Ceremony in Death (In Death #5)(100)

“Yes, you’re right.” But she’d have been there for Mavis, he thought as he slipped into the corner. And for him.

When her ‘link went unanswered, he bypassed security and called through her communicator. There was a humming buzz that indicated it was on standby, but it went unanswered.

“Something’s wrong,” he said when he stepped back up to Peabody. “She isn’t picking up.”

“Let me get my bag, try her communicator.”

“I already tried it,” he said shortly. “She isn’t picking up. She was staking out Spirit Quest?”

“Yeah, she wanted to talk to Isis… let me get out of this costume. We’ll go check it out.”

“I can’t wait for you.” He pushed his way through the crowd as Peabody shuffled and looked for Feeney.

She thought it was a dream at first when she woke, groggy and hot. Her head spun, and when she tried to lift a hand to it, she found she couldn’t move.

Panic rushed in first. Her hands were bound. He’d often tied her hands when she was a child. Tied her to the bed, clamped a hand over her mouth to hold in her screams when he raped her.

She pulled at them, felt the vague, faraway pain of the straps cutting into her wrists. Her breath sobbed out as she struggled. Her legs were secured as well, tied down at the ankles so that her thighs were spread.

She whipsawed her head, trying to see. Shadows shifted through the room, chased by the flickering lights of dozens of candles. She could see herself in a mirror, a wall of black glass that reflected images and light.

She wasn’t a child, and it wasn’t her father who had tied her.

She forced down the panic. It wouldn’t help. It never did. She’d been drugged, she told herself. She’d been brought here, stripped naked, and tied to a marble slab like a piece of meat.

Selina Cross meant to kill her, and maybe worse, unless she could keep her mind clear and fight back. She continued to work at her wrist straps, twisting, tugging, while she forced her mind to focus.

Where was she? In the apartment, most likely, though she couldn’t quite remember. The club would have been too dangerous, full of people. It was more private here, in this room. This room where Alice had seen a child sacrificed.

What time was it? God, how long had she been out? Roarke was going to be pissed. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood to hold back the bubble of hysteria.

They would miss her, wonder about her. Peabody knew her last location, and they would check it out.

And what good would that do her?

Eve closed her eyes to wait for calm. She was on her own, she told herself. And she meant to survive.

The mirrored wall slid open and Selina, draped in an open black robe, slipped through. “Ah, you’re awake. I wanted you awake and aware before we started.”

Alban stepped in behind her. He wore a similar robe and the fierce, toothed mask of a boar. Saying nothing, he picked up a thick candle, set it between Eve’s thighs. He stepped back, lifted an ivory-handled athame from a black pillow, then held it aloft.

“Now, we begin.”

Roarke opened the door of his car when his pocket ‘link beeped. He whipped it out. “Eve?”

“It’s Jamie. I know where she is. They’ve got her. You have to hurry.”

“Where is she?” As he spoke, Roarke climbed behind the wheel.

“That Cross bitch. They’ve got her inside the apartment. Or I think they do. I lost transmission when they got her out of the car.”

Roarke didn’t wait, but pushed the accelerator and flew through traffic. “What transmission?”

“I bugged her car. I wanted to know what was going on. I planted a transmitter. I heard stuff tonight. Cross told her to put the car on auto, go to the apartment. Dallas must’ve been drugged or something, because she sounded weird. And Cross said how she’d killed my grandfather and Alice.” His voice flooded with tears. “She killed them both. And kids. And Christ…”

“Where are you?”

“I’m right outside their place. I’m going in.”

“Stay out. Goddamn it, you listen to me. Stay out. I’ll be there in two minutes. Call the cops. Report a break-in, a fire, anything, but get them there. Understand me?”

“She killed my sister.” Jamie’s voice was suddenly calm and cold. “And I’m going to kill her.”

“Stay out,” Roarke repeated, swearing as the transmission ended. Digging for control, he called Mavis’s, snapped out a demand for Peabody when the call was answered with wild laughter.

He was already pulling up at Selina’s building when Peabody answered. “Roarke. Feeney and I are heading to Spirit Quest right — “

“She’s not there. Cross has her, most likely in the apartment building. I’m there now, and I’m going in.”

“Jesus, don’t do anything crazy. I’ll call for a cruiser. Feeney and I are on our way.”

“There’s a young boy in there, too. You’d better hurry.”

With no weapon but his wits and his will, he rushed the door.

They were chanting over her. Alban had lighted a fire in a black cauldron and the smoke was thick and overly sweet. Selina had discarded her robe and was now slowly rubbing glistening oil over her body.

“Ever been raped by a woman? I’m going to hurt you when I do it. So will he. And we won’t kill you quickly, the way we did Lobar, the way we told Mirium to kill Trivane. It’s going to be slow and unspeakably painful.”