I guess I should feel relieved that I was escorted back to the first room by Mustache Man instead of Mr. Don't-Touch-My-Suit. His creeper vibe was through the roof and making my skin crawl. Not that being with his lackey was much better, but at least I didn't think I had to worry about him getting handsy with me before his boss had a chance.
Handsy, well, I guess technically I ought to be afraid. According to that wonderful security footage, I now knew what to expect from a monster like his boss and how he'd already been all over me.
My stomach turned at the thought of that creeper's sweaty hands gripping my chest and sliding down my thigh. I twitched as my body started dry heaving where I stood.
Mustache Man turned around to grab my arm, but I shied away from his touch and just used the non-mirrored wall to support myself.
He apparently didn't relish the idea of getting vomited on either so he held back and waited for my episode to pass.
Several heavy lumps hung in my throat even after my stomach stopped fighting back and my arms resembled a cactus with all the hairs on end.
"Let's go," Mustache Man finally said and clamped his hand around my wrist. He tugged me away from the wall.
If only my hairs would prick him like a thousand needles...
I refused to stumble into him or be dragged like some helpless child so even though my body wanted a break, I pushed it upright and shoved one foot in front of the other. This whole mess might be Ian's fault, but I would not rely on him to rescue me. He's done more than enough damage. Plus, who knew if I could really trust him not to eat me?
He did buy me after all.
I wonder when he was going to feel like bringing that up.
We stood before the door and I counted the seconds until he finally decided to open it. I considered pleading with him up until the moment I felt his hand slip behind my back and slide down to my butt. Then he pushed me inside the room.
"Knock if you need the bathroom," he said, staring after me with an obvious lustful eye. "And you may want to change your mind about telling us where Mr. Daniels lives. Mr. Blue will be back in a few hours to, uh, question you before this evening's appointments. If you still need further questioning, I'll offer up myself and my skills to get the answer he expects."
Then he slammed the door shut behind me.
"That's surprisingly kind of you," I muttered under my breath, partially afraid he'd come in if he caught wind of the snarky response. That was when the stench hit my nose. "Oh, shit. Nobody cleaned that up?"
The room was chilly so the smell could've been worse, but knowing I was going to be trapped in here for hours with that did not help reassure my stomach. If I was going to be honest with myself, nothing was reassuring to me other than I was definitely in the darkest time of my life.
Thanks Ian.
I should probably turn on the lights now. There was scheming to do and vomit to clean up and both of those are difficult to do when you can't see what's available to you.
With one hand covering my nose, I reached over and found the light switch. What a blessing! It worked. That was when I made my way over to the dresser. I half expected it to be filled with crack cocaine or something equally distressing and useless to me. But to my surprise, there was a collection of men's clothing, specifically collared shirts like what Mustache Man had on. A smile crept over my lips as I grabbed two of them and ran over to my smelly mess.
After wiping the area clean with those shirts and stuffing them back into the dresser, I felt vindicated as well as more clear-headed. Now I could try to find a way out of here and I had less than two hours to do it.
The room wasn't that large so scouring it for potential weapons and hiding places proved to be problematic. Problematic in that, there weren't any of either.
There was no chance of hiding underneath or behind the couch or dresser and the camera in the corner of the room basically made it impossible to do anything unnoticed. I had found a set of metal handcuffs and a ball-gag, but that kind of grossed me out and made me wonder how often they were washed. I also had no place to hide them really, unless I shoved them in the back of my pants like a gun and hoped no one would see them or that they wouldn't slid down further. It wouldn't benefit me to give anybody extra ideas when they came back.
I had no idea what time it was at this point. It couldn't have been that late because the dental office next door was still open. There was a possibility that this clinic had later hours to accommodate difficult work schedules.
"Okay, enough whatifs," I spoke aloud and then glanced around to make sure nobody actually heard me. Now was definitely not the time to talk myself through things. With a quick glare at the camera, my mouth clamped shut.
I needed to be smart. What were the positives? I was alive, relatively uninjured, smelly, and everyone hated me. Okay, that last part wasn't entirely positive. I also wasn't bound, though they could change that easily if I wasn't careful. Focus. What're my assets? A wooden dresser filled with vomit covered shirts and other garments, a couch that was heavier than it looked, the handcuffs and gag as gross as it was to consider touching them, and my shoes. It wasn't that big of a surprise that my purse was taken from me. When kidnapping someone it's not usually a good idea to allow them a cell phone.
With how all these interactions had occurred, I felt confident that everyone I'd met so far was human, as depressing as that was. It did mean that I was at least on a more level playing field so that was a plus. No supernaturals that can hear you pacing behind the door.
I paused, realizing that was exactly what I was doing. Crap, nervous habit. My eyes flicked up to the camera even though it didn't move. It continued to point in the same direction. Perhaps, this was the type that couldn't. That would be a plus if the room was bigger and I had something to get behind. If they didn't think I was twitchy before, they wouldn't question it now.
The camera was a huge distraction. I wanted to throw a shirt over it, one of the vomit covered ones so they'd have to clean it too, but then someone might come in to see what I was up to and I was not ready for that yet.
If I went to the bathroom, would Mustache Man give me privacy or would he follow me inside? Would he use that opportunity to touch me in a place without cameras? It wouldn't have cameras, right? Would it be stalls or just a regular bathroom? Only part of this building seemed to fit the style you'd expect at a dentist's office. Unless they all had two-way mirrors or secret cameras...
I shook my head. I was losing focus. The point was I didn't trust going to the bathroom so this room was my only option for escaping. This sucked.
Sure, if I told them where Ian was that might make my life a bit easier, but probably not. It's not like I was holding out on them to protect him. I was protecting Roberta, George, Mackenzie...
Cocking my head to the side, I stared at the door. If they got to Lisa to get to me, why didn't she fess up about Ian? Surely, they would've asked since Mr. Blue Suit Man assumed we had been working together that night at the club.
Maybe they were still trying to break her, thinking she'd be easier to crack than I would be. Well, either way, I needed to get out of here. We didn't pass any other people when they took me there and back again, perhaps because of all the cameras they thought it wasn't really necessary.
Here's hoping.
I rushed over to the dresser and grabbed one of the only slightly dirty shirts. It wouldn't do me any good to slop chunks onto the floor and accidentally slip on them later in the soon-to-be scuffle. With a light toss, the shirt landed on top of the camera and I ran back over to the dresser for the handcuffs. Maybe I could attach him to the door so he couldn't go anywhere.
When I yanked at the drawer, the whole thing nearly came out. A smile appeared on my lips as I ripped it the rest of the way out and dumped all the contents onto the floor. The solid, wooden drawer was plenty heavy enough that if smashed against someone's head, it would definitely leave a mark.
The metal handcuffs clinked as they hit the ground. I lowered the drawer and stared at them. I needed everything I could get right now. If I got out of here, I'd bathe with bleach to make sure nothing got on me. Quickly bending over, my hand scooped up the tool and I shoved them into my pocket. No, it wasn't hidden, but I needed them handy, not hidden in case someone else got handsy.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Someone was already coming.
This was it. I lifted the drawer above my head and stood next to the door, listening and waiting.
Stupid heart, chill out. I could barely hear anything over your rapid pounding in my head. How will I be able to hear them coming if you don't shut up?
There was a nearly whispered conversation on the other side of the door that I unfortunately couldn't make out. Then more footsteps. It sounded like only one pair.
The door knob slowly started to turn before my eyes.
Here he was. Coming to question me. Stupid monster. Eat wood.
"Take it easy. I'm here to get you out," whoever the man was that was coming in whispered as the door eased open.
I froze, torn between the fool's hope of being rescued and the reality of it being a trap. Could it be this simple?
I drew back the drawer, preparing to smash anyone suspicious looking in the head.
For once, it was a man shorter than me, although not by much. He looked a little pudgy, but only just and had sandy blond hair swept back into a shorter mohawk. His golf-tee and jeans looked wrinkled, but clean.
It had to be too good to be true so I swung my arms forward with the drawer in hand.
The man noticed me at the last second and managed to duck so my swing slammed into the door.
"Shh! Are you trying to alert everyone?"
I stared at him, shocked. His eyes were a brilliant blue-green. They were mostly blue but had just a slight layer of green over top. The drawer lay on the floor by our feet. "What do you want?"
"I told you. I came here to get you." He pulled the door closed and pushed the drawer out of the way. "Unless you want to stay."
"No, I don't. I mean, who are you?" Had someone noticed me being carried in here unconscious and called someone? I didn't even know where here was. He seemed familiar somehow. "How did you find me?"
"I'm Detective Faulkner. I've been watching these guys for a while and when I saw you dragged in, I knew I had to act quickly," he said, then shot a glance up at the vomit-covered shirt covering the camera. "Nice touch. We need to go now."
"Thanks." I half-smiled, but shook my head, remembering myself and Lisa. "I can't leave yet. I have to find out where my, my friend is."
"Aren't you such a good neighbor." He clicked his tongue and turned to face me fully. "The other women are staying at my place. Come with me. You can ask questions later, any that you want, but we need to leave now."
Even with those dazzlingly bright eyes and him leaning against the door, he did look a little tense. Maybe, he really had come to save me. This was my one chance out of here. I had to take it. "Okay. Let's go."
He turned the doorknob and leaned a little out into the hallway. With a simple nod back to me, he threw the door open and walked casually down the hall, the same way I'd been taken earlier. It wasn't a particularly quiet or quick pace either. He was practically strutting.
What the hell was he doing? Shouldn't we run? Shouldn't we be trying to keep out of sight? What was he thinking?
As crazy as I thought he was, I still followed him into the conference room again and over to the door on the other side. No one appeared and questioned us. No one was even around at least on the sketchy side of the building.
Once we walked through that other door though, we were in another smaller hallway by the restrooms of the dental clinic. Nobody passed us. No one was here except the security guard at the front desk and he didn't even look up as we walked by.
The clock overhead read: 7:45 PM. Had everyone gone out for dinner together? Where were they? I was pleased when we finally stepped outside and that muggy, chill hit me. It kind of snapped me awake honestly.
My stomach started growling. My breathing seemed to be more rapid than a minute ago. Little goosebumps ran down my arms and legs and had me shuddering. Maybe this was shock. I was free and it'd been so oddly simple. It had been real, right? Surely, it hadn't just been some big prank on me.
"I can't believe it was so easy," I finally burst out with. This mix of confusion and panic and joy was killing my nerves. My hands were twitching at my sides until I drew them up and rubbed them along my forearms to smooth out my hairs and sudden nervousness. "I can actually go home or well, somewhere."
He smiled at me. It really was a sharp smile, reaching up to his bright eyes, but something about it seemed off. "You need to come with me first. I need to talk to you and sort a few essential things out."
I sighed, the severity of my kidnapping hitting me again. "Will I need to stay at a safehouse until those guys are arrested?"
"You won't have to be there too long, I imagine. With the other guy working on this case, they'll be done for by the end of the night."
He looked almost too happy about that and the way he said it, I felt my heart-rate start rising again. My stomach began to churn again, but not from hunger this time. "Could I borrow a phone to call someone and tell them I'm safe? Mine was taken while I was unconscious."
"Certainly," he said, producing one from his pocket and offering it to me. "Although, I'm not sure who you'd want to call at this point."
The phone in his hand looked just like mine, dangling keychains and all. I glanced up at him and swallowed nervously as I reached for it. The closer my fingers got, the more my nightmare came to life. When they were close enough to brush his skin, I knew. It was cool, cooler than any human's touch. "You're not really a detective."
He let me take the phone and I turned it over in my hand. It was mine and it was off. His hands reached up to his eyes as if to poke them, but then I realized what he was actually doing.
He was taking out lens.
It really had been just a thin layer of green over top of that terrifyingly familiar, bright blue.
Flicking them into some case he pulled from his pocket, he blinked a few more times and then locked eyes with me, petrifying me on the spot.
"Hello again, Beautiful. I told you I'd see you soon."
I stared, eyes stretched as far as possible and my mouth hung open at the creeper who approached me after my Indian dinner with Tiffany. My hand closed around my phone. "But... your hair? You didn't have a beard then."
"Didn't you know that when a vampire drinks fresh blood it practically brings us back to life. Our nails and hair start growing. Our skin warms up some and returns to a more natural color. If we dine on the fresh stuff consistently enough, we can even stomach real food." He looked down at his analog watch. "Speaking of which, you must be starving. You didn't get a chance to eat lunch before everything happened, did you?"
I remained silent as my fingers tightened over the power button on my phone. Please, let it be silent as it woke.
"I'll have someone order Mexican for you. I know that's your favorite." He clicked his teeth and finally stared back at me. "I put his number in there, by the way, if you want to call him for help."
"Why do you know so much about me? Why do you care?" My voice trembled as I did the rest of my body. Running would do me no good. I'd tried that once before and almost ended up with a set of fangs in my neck.
"I don't really, but when you're asked to find someone and bring them someplace, it helps to know their schedule and lifestyle. Particularly when they're resistant to certain abilities." He stepped closer and watched as my phone finished booting up. "I'll have to test that more later."
"I won't call him and he won't come. Sorry to burst your bubble. You'll actually be doing him a favor by making me disappear." I held the phone back out to him with my chin stuck out, trying to form some sense of pride or courage. I was not going to be the bait.
"Keep it. You may change your mind later." He flashed that predatory smile and tucked a stray hair behind my ear.
It took all of my will not to flinch away from this monster's reach, but he wanted me to be afraid. He probably wanted me to snap and call Ian to have him come running. That wouldn't happen though, either one.
"Our ride's here," he said as a bright teal sedan pulled up next to us. I knew that car even though the windows were now tinted black. "Get in, unless you want to be responsible for her corpse lying on the ground and you driving us back?"
I walked over to the rear passenger door and opened it. "Lisa? Are you okay?"
She glanced up at me in the rearview mirror. "I'm doing fine, Nicole. Are you ready to head back? I've already put in a delivery order for Mexican so if we don't hurry, it'll beat us there."
Why was she so natural? No weird tone. No blank stare. I reached forward and touched her cheek. It wasn't cold. What was happening?
He popped open the passenger door and made himself comfortable. "Hurry up. I want to see how it all plays out."
I sat down and buckled myself in, pulling the door shut behind me. "What did you do to her?"
"I see Ian's still a bumbling fool when it comes to hypnosis. This is what it looks like when you actually know what you're doing and are properly fed. Lisa, do you want to do everything I say?"
"Of course, I do." She smiled warmly at him, finally looking away from the road even though she had parked to let us in.
"Good, now drive us back. I'm getting excited for my plan and I don't want our loitering around here to ruin it."
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Honest Question: Did the blue-green eyes make it too obvious?
Thanks for your patience while I hammer out the rest of this!
~~A Shout out to @Shadowsafterglow for the winning music suggestion. Thanks for your support!~~
To everyone else who offered some suggestions, I very much appreciate it. Thanks again!