Chances Are(29)

It had taken little effort to obtain her name and address. After subduing the store clerk and tying him up, in minutes he had accessed the paid accounts. His Dark Angel’s name was Angela Delvecchio. Then came the realization of her gift to him. Because of their phenomenal connection, she was already making his life easier without his even asking. She had known he needed to leave London and was simply leading him to a new home.

The most time-consuming aspect had been making a major move in such a short amount of time. Used to traveling with large quantities of wardrobe changes, hiding a young woman in a secret compartment was child’s play. No one paid attention to an elderly man struggling with giant trunks other than offers of assistance. He loved that there were still polite people in the world. Courtesy often seemed to be a lost art.

Now he had the blonde woman with him and would soon introduce her to his new companion. He didn’t question why he had to take his Dark Angel now, at this very moment. It was a compulsion and he’d learned over the years never to deny his needs. When he was younger, he had warred with himself over satisfying his desires. He had been content because he’d had all he needed. Then when he had lost everything, the door to those long-suppressed desires became unchained. The needs that had been simmering for years were unfettered, set free from their bonds. This was his calling. Since coming to that realization, he had taken what he wanted and was a happier man for it.

The reward for his hard work was almost at hand. He had found a place in Reims, about four hours outside Paris. The mansion was old but well preserved, the atmosphere perfect for his needs. Everything was coming together as if destiny had taken over.

And now for the plat de résistance.

He approached her quietly. “Pardon moi,” he said meekly, friendly.

His Dark Angel turned; eyes the color of decadent, dark chocolate widened with surprise. Oh yes…she was even more exquisite up close. Any remaining doubts that this was ‘the one’ disappeared.

Holding her hand to her chest, she gasped. “Oh, you startled me. I had no idea anyone was around.”

He was pleased that she spoke English. His knowledge of French was modest at best. Not being able to communicate his needs would have hindered their relationship. And her voice…it was even better than he could have anticipated. Rich, cultured, with a husky timbre. It would take almost no effort to train her.

His smile timid, he said, “I do apologize. I just moved in two doors down and can’t get my phone to work. Do you have a cellphone I could use to call the telephone company?”

“Of course.” Her head bent, she rummaged around in her purse. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

She was wearing the perfect apparel for what he needed. Her jacket, though modest, covered a beautiful low-necked blouse and gave him access to the smooth, creamy area between her neck and shoulder. He struck swiftly, jabbing the hypodermic needle deep into the muscle.

She yelped and jumped back. “What did you…?” In seconds, her eyes glazed and she stumbled backward, away from him.

He reached for her, expecting a brief, futile struggle as the drug took hold. Designed to disorient but not cause unconsciousness, his Dark Angel would be pliable and open to his suggestions within a couple of minutes. To his dismay she put up no struggle at all. Her arms went limp and her purse and grocery bag fell to the floor.

In the voice many had called beautiful and mesmerizing, he commanded, “Come with me,” and held out his hand. Once more, his Dark Angel proved that she was meant to be with him as, like magic, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her down the hallway and to the stairwell.

Anyone who saw them would believe they were a couple in love, going out for a stroll. Someday that’s how it would be. Someday very soon, she would no longer need the drugs. She would be his and he would be hers.

Opening the back of the van, he helped her inside and then uncovered the flooring where the blonde woman lay in her trunk. He felt his Dark Angel stiffen. “Don’t worry, my love. This is just a temporary home for you.”

He pushed her to her knees. She went willingly, just as he knew she would. Since the hiding space was small, he quickly removed her jacket along with any superfluous apparel. Shoving her forward, she fell on top of the blonde woman, who screeched at the intrusion. The sounds muffled by the tape covering her mouth.

He replaced the lid and then the flooring, covering the two very different looking but equally important women. One would be the culmination of his recent work and the other would be his salvation.



With every ounce of her strength, Angela fought to cling to reality while whatever drug he had injected her with worked just as hard to distort her thinking. As soon as he’d plunged the needle into her, she had begun reciting three things in her mind, repeatedly: My name is Angela Delvecchio. I work for Last Chance Rescue. LCR is tracking me—I am not alone.

If she had any chance of success, maintaining hold of this information was imperative.

Though what she wanted most to do was just drift in this euphoric wonderland the drug had created, she forced her mind to focus on tangibles. Someone was beneath her, wiggling. The compartment was filled with an impenetrable darkness and almost no additional space to move, but she managed to shift slightly, giving the woman beneath her an opportunity to breath. Smothering the victim she was supposed to rescue was probably against LCR regulations.

Rescue? Yes, she was here on a rescue mission. She had been drugged and the woman beneath her had been abducted. It was up to Angela and Jake to save her.

Jake. She focused on him, pictured his face, imagined his voice. Remembered his wonderful strength. He was her partner, her friend…her lover. She was not alone.

The body beneath her made muffled noises and it took several seconds of wondering before Angela figured out that the woman’s mouth was covered with something. Lifting a lethargic, uncooperative arm, Angela raised her hand to where the noise was located and felt something—tape. Tugging and pulling, she managed to uncover half of her mouth.

Of all the things she expected the woman to say, it wasn’t, “Oh please, get your knee out of my stomach.”

“Sorry,” Angela mumbled.

Focusing with all her might, she told her leg to shift and figured she had been successful when the woman blew out a relieved sigh, which turned into a rush of words. “My name is Clarissa Eaton. Who are you? Why has he taken us? What’s he going to do? Who is he? Why did—”

“Hold on.” Angela swallowed. The drug clawed at her mind, pulling her deeper and deeper into a sluggish daze. Her tongue thick and dry, she swallowed again and said slowly, thickly, “My name is Angela. I work for…” Ah, dammit, who did she work for? Squeezing her eyes tight, she said, “I work for a company…we’ll help you.”

“A company? What do you mean?”

Shit. She had to get her focus back. Biting her lip till she tasted blood, the pain jerked her into reality once more. “My name is Angela Delvecchio. I work for Last Chance Rescue. We’re not alone.”

There, she’d said it. For some reason, the woman stayed frozen. Why wasn’t she reassured by her declaration?

Angela tried again. “Jake, my lover.” She shook her head. “I mean my partner…is tracking us.”

“I don’t understand. Why is your lover tracking you?”

With all of her faculties in tact, explaining her complicated relationship with Jake would be difficult. Drugged and jammed into a compartment barely large enough for one person, much less two, Angela knew a lucid, succinct response was impossible. She settled for “Forget the other stuff. Bottom-line, help is on the way.”

“Who is this man that’s taken us? Do you know?”

“Don’t know his name. He’s been killing women in London.”

“What?” Clarissa screeched.

“Shh. Keep your voice down.” Being blunt was probably a side effect of the drug. Any other time, Angela was almost sure she would have broken the news that they had been abducted by a serial killer in a more tactful way.

Soft sobs of despair came from Clarissa.

Grinding her teeth together to keep from falling into a drugged abyss, Angela said carefully, slowly, “We will escape. Promise. Keep calm. K?”

“Yes…all right.”

“Can you tell me where you’ve been…what’s happened since he took you?”

“Some things are hazy. I remember a policeman came to my house and told me an emergency call had come from my residence. I had my television up too loud and I went to turn it off so I could explain that the call hadn’t come from me. I turned around and there he was, behind me. I don’t remember much after that…he must have drugged me.

“When I came to, I was lying on some kind of table. He removed my clothes. He kept saying the reason he took me would soon be revealed. Since then, I think he’s transported me to various places. I remember the sound of an engine and the feeling of movement beneath me.”