Page 24 of Wanted 2
“No,” I gasped, finally succeeding in wrenching myself away. “Jeremy. What have you done with him?”
“Nothing. Yet,” he chuckled.
Don laughing was never a good sign. Then, something pricked my arm and I looked down to see Don holding a syringe.
“What the hell?” I gasped. I never did needles. Never.
“Good ‘ol Oxycodone,” he replied as he let me go. “You’re gonna feel reaaal good in about twenty minutes, so you better get back. I’ll follow. Just to make sure you get there in one piece. Can’t have you missing all the excitement now, can we? And anyway, you’ve got a job to do.”
I stared at him.
“Excitement?” I repeated hoarsely.
“I’ll just get your keys, and then you’re free to go.” He paused at the door and looked back. “And don’t think of detouring anywhere else. You want Jeremy? He’s at the mansion. For now, anyway.”
His words tore right through me. “What have you done?”
“Better trot on back to the Count and find out, huh?” he challenged. Then, he was out the door and I heard the click of the lock.
I lurched forward. I had to get to my phone. I must have left it in the car. I had to call Jeremy, warn him to stay hidden until I could get back.
“Let me go,” a voice hissed from the mountain of clothing to my left.
I paused. God, what was it with me and clothing? Was I going to see them all start rising from the floor to dance around the room now?
I shook my head to clear it, the effects of the liquor and drugs already making my mind muddy.
“Here. I’m here.”
Accompanied by the chinking of chains, a small, wizened creature, about three feet high, emerged from the mound of material. He looked old, grizzled, with a scrawny neck and a tuft of white hair that reminded me of those big-eyed troll dolls. His eyes were huge, too, much too large for his face.
“Let me go.” The creature held up his hands, and at first, the only thing I could see was just how disproportionately large his hands were compared to the rest of his body. Then, he shook his wrists and I saw the manacles, big, iron ones, that bit into his flesh.
“What are you?” I whispered, unable to believe my eyes and quite convinced Don laced that drink or syringe with something hallucinogenic.
“A Bog Troll,” he replied. “And I’ll grant you a wish, anything you please, if you help me.”
“A troll? Trolls don’t grant wishes.” Man, twenty minutes? I was already tripping.
“And how many trolls have you met?” the wizened creature challenged.
I snorted, pointed at him, and then blew imaginary smoke from my finger as if it were a gun. “You got me there.” I chuckled. I felt strangely relaxed.
“Please,” the bog troll whispered.
“Sure, I’ll let you go.” I met him halfway, expecting him to vanish, but he didn’t. He sure felt solid, as did his manacles. “Yeah, these aren’t budging,” I said, giving them a yank. “You need a key.”
The bog troll wilted.
“It’s ok,” I patted him on the head. “You’ll vanish soon enough and then you’ll be free.” I smiled at my own cleverness and then frowned. God, I was losing control. Jeremy. I had to focus but it was… So. Freaking. Hard.
The doorknob jiggled, signaling Don’s return.
“Tell the Count I’m here,” the troll hissed and then scurried back into the clothes pile.
“Sure thing,” I agreed. I was feeling pretty good. Relaxed. I could still outwit Don. I just had to drive home, pick up Jeremy and skedaddle to Canada. Easy Peasy.
Don appeared out of nowhere. “Here are your keys.”