He strode to the fire alarm boxed in the far corner of the room. A twinkle overhead caught his attention. Sighing in regret, he gifted the Artur’ak chandelier a wistful eye. He hesitated, cocked his head, considering, before admitting defeat. “Alas, our beautiful dream must part here.” Feeling a tad weepy inside, he pulled the alarm cord.
A shrill, obnoxious noise instantly filled the air. He was relieved to note that none of the sprinklers activated. Thinking of all the priceless oil paintings in the downstairs hall getting soaked was enough to give him an ulcer.
He booked it back across the room and leapt into the elevator. His fingers flying faster than he could type, he keyed in Francesca’s pass code. The conveyance ascended and a few seconds later deposited him at the penthouse. Wincing at the musical ping that preceded the docking of the conveyance, he tensed, his gaze peeled to the brass doors. They slid open, and he steeled himself for the possible setback awaiting him on the other side.
Scantily lit only by the spotlights centered on the jade screen, the front room hosted no visitor other than himself. Hushed silence added another layer of paint to the picture of stillness. Still, he knew better than most that looks could be deceiving. He systematically swept the entire apartment. Once he was satisfied it was clear of any intruder beyond himself, he halted in front of the lone steel door at the end of the hall. The solitary lock was almost an affront to his skills. Within seconds the tumblers gave way beneath the persuasion of his pick, and he tugged the door open. Judging from the whine of its hinges, he’d be the first to enter since Casper’s passing.
He flicked on the overhead tubes, casting the small lab in a stark glow of white light. A long table contained beakers and various other paraphernalia he couldn’t begin to recognize much less name. Bypassing that, he strode to the workstation centered in the room. The desk was a disaster area with papers and folders scattered everywhere. Casper might have been a scientist, but he sure as hell hadn’t believed in neat order.
“Bloody fantastic.” Shaking his head, Jerrick re-synced his timer, setting it for fifteen minutes. If he couldn’t narrow down his search within that time frame, he’d just take everything and figure it out later.
He began with the folders first. Assuming the research he was after was the only thing Casper had been working on prior to his death, the color-coded files would be the logical starting point. There were countless papers, all handwritten. Even if he’d known what he was looking at, Casper’s illegible scrawl made deciphering them an impossible task. Shuffling everything back in place, he made a pile near the door. Next he started on the desk drawers. In the upper one he located a book-sized black case. Springing the tabs, he eyed the syringes inside. Probably shouldn’t leave them behind.
His original plan of taking everything looking likelier than ever, he stashed the case with the folders and set about disconnecting the hard drives from the compu-mainframe. The portable tabs he could take with him. Checking the status of his timer, he quickened his pace.
Deciding enough time had passed for Avi to send up the dolly, he vacated the lab and strode into the main room. No dolly or elevator.
He glanced at his timer again. Shit. Something was wrong. She should have been able to send it up by now. Maybe she’d been waylaid by someone. Or she’d been spotted and forced to evacuate with the others before she could make it to the kitchen.
Pulse thudding, he punched the call button for the conveyance. A damn eternity passed before the chime announced its arrival. The doors pinged open. He started forward, only to slam to a stop when he noticed Avi with the dolly.
A growl slipped from his throat. “Goddamn it, I told you—” The remaining angry words dried on his tongue when he spotted Lex behind Avi. He frowned. “Tarker, what in the bloody fuck are you doing here?”
Lex pushed Avi out of the way. “Collecting my property.” Raising the electrolizer gun in his hand, he volleyed off a single, excruciating shot.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Avi jerked from the murky morass of unconsciousness with a painful jolt. Vision swimming, she scanned her surroundings, trying to make sense of the weird whomp whomp whomp noise humming in the distance. Maybe it was her brain slowly melting. It’d explain her horrible headache.
A nearby blur slowly morphed into a face. It took a moment to recognize it as belonging to the man who’d abducted her outside Club Rapture’s kitchen. She would have thought it a kind, completely harmless face, only she knew better now. Too bad she’d fallen for the illusion the first time around when he’d stopped her with a nervous profession of being lost and unable to find the emergency exit. Gods, what an idiot she’d been to fall for that one.
“Apologies. I’m afraid you bore some of the electrolizer’s scattershot. Its effects should wear off shortly.”
She glared at him weakly. “You shot Jerrick.” Her heart wept at the words. Was he dead? No, he couldn’t be. He’d promised to watch over her for a lifetime. He couldn’t do that from the grave.
Misery welled in her throat, threatening to cut off her air supply.
“It was a necessary evil. I couldn’t have him fouling up my plans any more than they’ve already been.”
Her memory was gradually coming back in fits and bursts. After this man grabbed her and the dolly outside the kitchen, he’d shaken that scary weapon in her face and demanded she take him to Jerrick. She’d held him off as long as possible, but then the elevator had the disastrous misfortune of showing up and wresting the upper hand from her.
Head still throbbing, she stared at the man a little harder, a niggle of déjà vu taking shape. There was something familiar about his face, but also something missing. She squinted, trying to name it. Her fingers closed on her lens frame and slid it along the bridge of her nose. That’s when it fell in place with a resounding click. Eyeglasses.
Once she had that figured out, the recollection spun into her brain. This was the same man she’d seen with Jerrick that first day in her store. The one who’d said something about her being Jerrick’s bitch.
Oh gods. He’d known about the club, and now he was suddenly here, a part of all this. The coincidence was too heavy to be discounted. “Who are you? And don’t tell me a friend of Jerrick’s, because friends don’t shoot each other.”
The man gave her a despicable smile. “Something tells me that the friends in your boyfriend’s world think nothing of pulling guns on each other.”
Before she could question him further, another fierce rattle joggled her bones. Startled out of her wits, she jerked her focus to her surroundings. Her wooziness had worn off enough that she had no problem identifying the fact that she and her captor were strapped into matching white leather bucket seats. A bank of portholes across from them revealed the fluffy tops of dense cloud cover.
They were in a hover jet? Okay, that explained the odd shaking. Turbulence.
Her captor keyed a button embedded in his armrest. “Damn it, you imbecile. I pay you good money not to wreck my personal aircraft. Live up to your fucking paygrade.”
An amused snort wafted through the central speaker. “Yes, Mr. Kiantu.”
Moments later, the craft touched down with a shuddery wobble. Confused fear getting the better of her, she whipped her gaze toward her captor. “Where are we?”
“You’ll discover soon enough.”
Not the least comforted by that cryptic statement, she returned her stare to the door across from her. Just as she was debating the wisdom of making a dash for it, the fiberglass slider whooshed open. A brisk rush of air assaulted her seconds before big burly arms entered her line of vision, unstrapping her and hauling her from her seat. She was too weak to do anything beyond cuss the offender’s ear off as he tossed her over his shoulder and hustled from the jet. She had enough time to make out the words Kiantu Industries in bold lettering on the side of the sleek craft before she was whisked inside a steel-sided structure.