“Well, that’s one way we ain’t related.”
Payne’s twin put his head into the room. “What the hell is that noise?” Like someone had decided to speak in tongues. Or maybe bust out some Justin Bieber.
Manny just shook his head. “It’s music.”
“Only if you say so.”
Manny rolled his eyes and retreated into a very dark, dangerous place in his mind. The reality that there was nothing he could do for his woman at the moment made him want to hurt something. And the fact that it appeared he had some vampire in him was exactly the kind of revelation he did not need on a day like today.
God, he felt like death.
“Pool, anyone?” he said numbly.
“Fuck, yeah.”
“Absolutely.”
Jane stepped in and gave him a quick hug. “Count me in.”
Guess he wasn’t the only one desperate for a distraction.
FIFTY-FIVE
As Payne sat on something padded with her hands in her lap, she surmised that she was in a car because the subtle vibrating sensation was similar to what she had felt when she had traveled beside Manuel in his Porsche. She could not visually confirm such, however, because just as the Bloodletter’s soldier had promised, she was blindfolded. The scent of the male in charge was beside her, however; although he was frozen in place, so someone else had to be piloting the vehicle.
Naught had happened to her in the intervening hours betwixt their confrontation and this ride now: She had passed the daylight time sitting on the leader’s bed, knees tucked in against her chest, both of the guns next to her on the rough blanket. No one had bothered her, however, so after a while she’d stopped prickling at each noise from above and relaxed some.
Thoughts of Manuel had soon commanded the majority of her attention, and she had played and replayed scenes from their tooshort time together until her heart ached from the agony. Before she’d known it, though, the leader came back down to her and asked her if she required a repast before they left.
No, she hadn’t wanted to eat.
Thereafter, he had blindfolded her with a pristine white cloth—one so clean and lovely that it made her wonder where he had come up with it. And then he took her elbow in a firm grip and led her slowly up the stairs he had carried her down previously.
It was hard to know exactly how long they had been in the car. Twenty minutes? Maybe a half hour?
“Here,” the leader said eventually.
Upon his command, whatever they were in slowed, then stopped, and a door was unlatched. As fresh, cool air wafted in, her elbow was taken once again and she was steadied as she stepped out. The door shut and there was a bang—as if a fist had been knocked on a part of the vehicle.
Spinning tires kicked up dirt onto her robe.
And then she was alone with the leader.
Although he was silent, she sensed him moving behind her, and the fabric about her head was loosened. As it fell free, her breath caught.
“I thought if you were to be released, it should be upon a view worthy of your pale eyes.”
The entire city of Caldwell was revealed down below them, its twinkling lights and streaming traffic a glorious feast for her vision. Indeed, they were upon the shoulders of a small mountain rise, with the city sprawling out at their veritable feet by the banks of the river.
“This is lovely,” she whispered, glancing over at the soldier.
As he stood a ways away, he was remote to the point of being removed, his disfigurement hidden in the shadows he had stepped back into. “Fare thee well, Chosen.”
“And you . . . I still know not your name.”
“True enough.” He gave her a half bow. “Good evening.”
With that he was gone, dematerializing away from her.