Page 16 of Devil's Retribution

Emma

My dreams went strange on me—deep, vivid, and completely nonsensical. Odd smells and fog. A sensation like drowning or being smothered. Motion.

Nick was in bed with me, curled up against me like he did whenever he came in after a nightmare. But the bed was wheeled and moving, and had escaped the house, rolling off with us down the street while the fog parted for it.

I could almost hear deep voices talking. I caught a whiff of familiar cologne. Felt a hand smooth my hair. Then I was back to drifting along a road on my bed, which was picking up speed until it hurtled along into the unknown dark.

The feeling of being half-smothered, of being helplessly moved, faded finally as I started to wake up. My head was foggy, my eyesight blurred. Nick was cuddled up next to me, sleeping peacefully. It reassured me some, but everything still seemed strange. Out of place.

I opened my eyes.

We were out of place.

The bright, pretty, white-walled, blue-curtained room we were lying in, the big four-poster bed with its patchwork comforter cover and white iron frame… the new hotel-quality pillows under our heads… none of it was familiar. We had been moved.

I drew in a huge gasp of air that burned in my lungs like cold smog as adrenaline shocked me all the way awake. I sat up in panic, beside me, Nick stirred and rolled over but didn’t open his eyes. Maybe that was good. I didn’t have to deal with his fear and my own at the same time.

I got up gingerly and looked around. The room was twice the size of my bedroom back home and high-ceilinged, with an ensuite bathroom, an empty closet, and a closed door with no doorknob or lock on our side. Just above it, a security camera peered at us, and it suddenly became clear.

Oh God. We’ve been kidnapped!

My breath hitched and my eyes stung as I fought the breakdown that was threatening to engulf me. I didn’t want to show weakness in sight of whatever prick was on the other end of that camera.

Instead, I put all that adrenaline into searching the place. I was still in my pajamas, same as Nick. The thick carpeting felt almost pleasant under my bare feet, but I barely noticed. I was shaking. Every hair on my body stood up as I struggled with my fear. You can do this, I told myself firmly. You have to handle this situation and not fall apart. Nick needs you.

I soon realized that every single piece of furniture in the room was built into the floor or walls. The bed was bolted to the floor. The table was a long counter. The chairs were bolted down too. The shelves were built-ins. There was a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, but it sat inside a clear box of armored glass to keep anyone from tampering with it. Even the remote was fastened to my bedside table.

The bathroom had soap, shampoo, towels, a change of clothes for each of us that included socks but no shoes, a comb, toothbrushes, and toothpaste—enough of the usual supplies to keep us going for a few days. Somehow the sight of my white jeans and fluffy gauze blouse was both comforting and infuriating at the same time.

Someone had taken us, locked us into this suite, gone through our belongings, maybe done other things, and yet left us with a change of clothes and toiletries like a thoughtful host. The dissonance confused me. What was the point of taking us? Who would do that, and yet worry about hospitality at the same time?

This has something to do with Uncle Charles. The thought popped into my head as I poked through the softcover books lined up on one shelf of the built-ins. This room had been carefully prepared to hold us, to keep us contained but safe and well cared for. If the kidnapper wants us both alive and healthy, that means…

A kidnapping for ransom.

It was one of the things that Uncle Charles had always feared would happen to one of us. Probably one of the reasons why he had us watched. Certainly, it was part of why he’d never wanted me to leave his penthouse and go live on my own.

I thought he was trying to clip my wings. Control me—keep me from living a normal life around normal people. But he knew, didn’t he? He knew. Oh God, he was right after all…

I heard a whimper escape my throat and covered my mouth with my hand. No. Don’t you start crying. Don’t do it. If Nick woke up and saw me crying, he would be even more scared.

Okay. Okay. Think. Be smart. If it’s a ransom they’re after, we’ll be out of here soon. Between his fortune and what he inherited from my dad, Uncle Charles is richer than God. He’ll write a check that probably won’t even put a dent in that, we’ll go home, everything will be fine.

I hoped.

I finished my sweep of the room. There was no way out. Nothing that could be used as a weapon. Disturbingly, behind the curtain were windows that looked out onto nothing. The glass was frosted and very thick, letting in a diffuse white light that reminded me of grow lights. I pressed my ear to the glass and couldn’t hear any traffic noises. Not even the sound of the wind. Did the windows actually lead to the outside, or were we in a room within a room?

As I was listening, I heard a rustle behind me. I turned and saw Nick roll over and blink up at me with bleary eyes. Then he noticed the room and slowly sat up.

“What’s happening?” he mumbled. “Where are we?”

I moved to him quickly, putting my arms around him. “Shush, sweetie, try to keep calm. I woke up a few minutes ago and found us here. I think we’ve been kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped!” He blinked up at me in open-mouthed horror. “That’s when they steal people!”

“Yeah,” I murmured, stroking his hair soothingly as he started to tremble. “It is. It looks like we got stolen. But don’t you worry—”

Too late. The poor kid was too young to understand. All he knew about kidnapping came from everything I’d taught him to keep him from getting grabbed at school or during a playdate. I’d never taught him how to cope with actually being kidnapped. I had never expected the situation to come up.