The Ripple Effect (Rhiannon's Law #3)(37)

“Deena!” I gazed around wildly when I reached the dressing area. The dancers in the back were getting ready to go home, putting away their stage clothing and rearranging their vanities. “Deena!”

“She’s already left,” Destiny interrupted my outburst, shrugging out of her robe. “She has a date.”

I didn’t just rush then, I ran, footing it down the hallway to the door at the end. If I made a total idiot of myself, fine. I’d rather look a fool than to be right and find a dead friend waiting for me in the alley when I finished up and left for home.

The metal door made the ear churning sound I detested when I threw it open. I ignored that, listening to my ragged inhales, the heavy stomping of my feet. Anyone within a close proximity would hear me, which was precisely what I wanted. I rounded the corner and came to the side of another building when I heard a muffled squeal.

Deena.

I hate, hate, hated being right sometimes.

I followed the sounds, running toward an alley a few buildings over. When I made it to my destination, I found who I was looking for.

The big blond bastard from the club had Deena pressed against the wall of the alley, a dark gloved hand holding a silvery blade that shined wickedly in the moonlight. I took a step forward, combat mode kicking into high gear. I knew the f*cker heard me. He knew I was watching but he didn’t seem to care.

I knew why when I was pummeled across the back of the head.

The concrete didn’t give way to my knees, causing me to cry out. I had to use my hands to keep from eating dirty asphalt. The ground was cold, but I was burning hot. Anger rose, and this time it was my own. There was no amulet to feed it, nothing to increase the throbbing in my ears or the pounding in my chest. This was just me, trying to be as strong on my own as Goose believed I was.

I hoped the faith he placed in me wasn’t misguided.

“Wrong place at the wrong time, girlie.” A large, ungloved hand pushed on the back of my neck, trying to force me to the ground.

The dumb f*cker had just messed with the wrong woman. “You can say that again.”

It was his turn to cry out when I snatched his wrist with my free hand and squeezed. I wasn’t strong enough to break bone, but it would leave one hell of a bruise. When cool air caressed my neck, informing me his hand was gone, I was on my feet. I should have been surprised when two men joined the third that’d knocked me down. An average person would have. Someone like me, understandably, found it incredibly ironic.

The one who’d sent me to my knees was tall, with dark hair that fell to his shoulders. A quick glance at the ground and I saw his shoes. I didn’t know if they were Prada, but the width and length seemed about right. The other two were blond, their hair much shorter. The bravado I felt without the amulet ebbed. They were huge and they were strong. I could defend myself, and I’d recently drank Disco’s blood which gave me additional strength. But one woman against the three of them? The odds weren’t stacked in my favor.

Then something else came to me, a realization that made my skin crawl. I remembered the crime scenes and my curiosity about how the killer had managed to flee covered in blood. Now I knew how he pulled it off, how he managed to kill someone and vanish into thin air. He had an entourage waiting to drive him away, to make sure no one saw anything.


“You’re all in on it.”


I wish I could have taken the words back when they homed their gazes on me. What greeted me was something I knew from years of childhood neglect: predators staring down their prey, looking for weaknesses they could exploit. I wasn’t sure if they’d created some macabre killing club for kicks, if they were out of their minds, or they were curious about death, rape, and other horrifying things.

“Rhiannon—”

Whatever Deena wanted to say was cut short. No more wasting time. I decided to go for the * who had her pined, since he could very well kill her while I tried to fight off his friends. The men in front of me cursed in chorus as I spun around and ran at the man who’d already stabbed Deena at least once. Blood bloomed at her side, spreading in a crimson stain.

Shit.

I went directly for the *’s kneecap. Standing at his side meant that when I landed the blow the joint would give, break, and f*ck him up for the rest of his life. As expected, when the heel of my boot made contact and pushed through, his knee bent inward, causing his leg to curve at an awkward angle. Pain—being the motivator I’d come to love—made sure he dropped the woman trapped against the wall. The need to see if Deena was all right was so hard to deny, but deny it I did. One rapist and killer was at my feet, but the other three quickly rushed my back.

I went to the cold, hard cement as they tackled me. I was stronger because of the vampire blood, but I wasn’t Superman. As their combined weight smashed me into the ground, I struggled and thrashed. As anticipated, I felt my muscles throb as fear became something I could use to break away, fight or flight was a wonderful thing.

“Take this one, John,” one of the men said.

“I didn’t pick her,” a deep voice complained.

“Tough shit. This is getting too risky. You want to know what it’s like? Then take advantage of the situation.”

“It’s his fault! We all agreed to pick dancers, not employees. He f*cked it up by changing the rules at the last minute.”

“Shut the f*ck up and do it. This has to end. Tonight. Before we all get caught.”