Vision (17 page)

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Authors: Beth Elisa Harris

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BOOK: Vision
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

In a strange way being idle in the Branson
manor gave me some hope. Once they started moving me there may be
less chance of being found, I assumed, although I didn’t want to
underestimate StoneWall since they had managed to wire the manor at
one time.

Mom? Are you there?

Be with you in a minute.

While waiting on telepathic hold, I thought
more about Beatrice. The only way we could hear each other was if
she were a Clear. The Branson’s couldn’t know, unless they were
using her. Perhaps she was a spy, and they thought she was
Bane.

Okay, I’m here
, Mom said.

Do you know someone in the Clear world named
Beatrice?

No, but that means little since we can use
different names.

True. There is someone here employed by the
Branson’s as some sort of servant on steroids named Beatrice. She
brings me meals and things and communicated with me like a Clear ��
as if she wanted me to know she’s a Clear.

(silence)

You there, Mom?

Describe her.

Um…medium height, long blond hair she wears
in a tight pony, big round blue eyes, no anarchy tat.

Let me look into it.

Mom, you seem – barky…in a hurry.

Sorry, Layla, we’re kind of busy with this
mess.

They are delaying the trip for at least a
week. I’m stuck here.

Yes – but you’re safe.

The new bonding with Mom wasn’t making her
less irritating and secretive. She must be so accustomed to spy
work she held things back easily, or maybe she didn’t know what to
tell me yet. Pity to whoever tried to interrogate her – good luck
getting her to spill anything.

Darkness swept the room so I walked around
and switched on a few low lights, making sure each corner of the
huge space had its share of illumination. The dinner tray still sat
near the door where I left it, most of the food untouched.

I must be off my game due to the trauma of
being held hostage, because I didn’t see it before.

A note tucked under the plate.

They are moving you soon. Be ready. Burn
this.

Mom! They are moving me soon and I don’t know
when. Are you there?

She responded quickly.
They suspect we are
moving in. What do you know?

A note was under my plate. Beatrice must have
left it. It said be ready.

Layla, listen to me. They could come for you
anytime. Are you wearing your bracelet?

Um, that’s random…

Are you?

Yes, of course.

Good. She was relieved. One of the charms has
a GPS.

Which one?

The heart.

Dad gave me the heart before…

Exactly.

Can’t you break in while I’m here?

No. We can’t penetrate the perimeter of the
manor. Getting out of there will help us get to you.

You’ve been around here?

Several times.

You couldn’t throw a stone at the window?

(laughs) We can’t get closer than outside the
gate. The security is the best I’ve seen. Tougher than when we
bugged the place. Much tougher.

I burned the note then collapsed on the bed
with no memory of transitioning to sleep.

He lay down next to me, wrapping his arms
around me from behind, breath warm on my neck. Everything in me was
tingling, alive.

You came
, I moaned, keeping my eyes
closed fearing he would vanish if I looked at him.

This is…wow
. He said.

Without knowing how this all worked, one
thing was certain – he was really next to me, or real enough, and I
could feel him, taste him as if he would be there when I woke. But
he wouldn’t be, so I vowed to keep my eyes closed until they were
forced open.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

It wasn’t morning that woke me. And there was
no knock this time.

They were silent, moving stealth in the pitch
of night. Faces covered so I couldn’t recognize or identify, their
heads shut down in rigid discipline, impossible to read.

Stuart! They’ve come!

A big dude swung me over his shoulder like I
weighed close to nothing. Hustling me quickly through the house in
silence, the homogenous attire and movements of my abductors were
high precision.

When we reached the underground garage my
eyes were covered. I wouldn’t know which of the twenty vehicles we
would leave in.

Blindfolded. Leaving from garage.

Stay calm. We’re tracking you, he finally
responded.

One of the three guided me into my seat – the
person next to me buckled me in. It was a woman. Then I recognized
Genevieve’s scent. Opium. Very Eighties.

Two men, one woman. Woman’s first name is
Genevieve. One of the other names may be Klaus.

“I hope you’re not transmitting, Layla.”
Genevieve said.

“No,” I quickly responded.

The car paused while the gate opened, and I
waited to see what direction we turned on the main road.

Did I dare ask where they were taking me? It
was doubtful I would get a response. My heart raced and the nerves
pulsing in my stomach made me want to retch. I decided to curb any
recalcitrant behavior until necessary. “Choose your battles,” Dad
always said.

We turned left on the main road, I think. I
hoped Liz or Stuart heard me.

We drove for a few minutes until the car
slowed down, veering to the side of the road before reaching a
complete stop.

“Let’s go,” the woman’s voice was light but
commanding.

“Go where?” I asked.

No one responded. It was worth a shot.

Oh my god, we’ve stopped. I’m dead.

We were out of the car, and they were leading
me somewhere, but we were still walking on the road. A car door
opened and I was gently pushed inside, feeling for the solid space
of a seat.

Switching cars.

Genevieve was still and silent, while one of
the men drove and one sat in the passenger seat, occasionally
mumbling either yes or no from the passenger seat into a cell
phone. I wondered if Jasper was on the other end, choreographing
the caper, designing my future.

Genevieve shifted slightly, and with two
fingers applied extreme pressure at the base of my neck causing me
to pass out.

When I came to the car had stopped, and I had
no idea how much time had passed.

Layla, don’t respond. I can see you. Keep a
poker face. I’m here.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The sound of helicopter blades whipping the
air around was distinct, the rush of wind stirring everything
around it.

And then it stopped, and my blindfold was
removed.

Jasper stood in front of me, Andre standing
slightly back, unable to meet my eyes.

“Layla, good to see you.” He said in his
usual smug tone. “Sorry for the extreme transport measures but we
can’t take chances. Your – mother and her friends at StoneWall are
– clever.”

I stood glaring, loathing the sight of him
and dreading the possibility of a long future in his company.

Where was Stuart? He said he was here.

“Are we ready?” Genevieve removed her hooded
cap.

“Yes. Please escort Ms. Stone to the
helicopter.” She gave me a gentle nudge as a signal to start
walking while Jasper and the boys had a powwow.

They’re taking me up. Please hurry.

(nothing)

Anyone there?

(nothing)

Great. I’m screwed.

Once aboard the chopper, Jasper waved the
pilot to take off and Genevieve tied the blindfold back around my
eyes. Arms wrapped around my chest, the cold temperatures made me
shiver as we rose slowly into the sky. Genevieve nudged me and
said, “Coat. Here.” With some effort, she helped me into what
seemed to be an oversized army jacket, which after zipping and
snapping shut made the cold more bearable.

Up, up and away. Up in the air.
Blindfolded.

(nothing)

“So, Genevieve, how does a girl like you
submit an application for this line of work?” I couldn’t see but my
mouth worked just fine.

(Thud)

Something hit the side of the metal machine.
A large bird? Those casualties were probably a common occurrence up
here.

(Thud)

Two birds?

“Shit,” Genevieve shouted to the pilot. “We
have company.”

Oh, duh, of course.

Since I wasn’t otherwise restrained I lifted
the blindfold. The door swung open, and my boyfriend flew in.
Genevieve instantly threw a punch that Stuart blocked with ease. In
return, he grabbed her collar and made a proposal. “Small space to
fight in. One of us needs to go.”

Genevieve put a swift knee in his groin,
causing him to double over. The pilot tilted the copter slightly.
With Stuart nearest to the door, I figured the goal was to dump him
out but he sacrificed holding his aching crotch from the pain for
bracing himself.

In the meantime Genevieve had produced a
long-barreled silver revolver now pointed at Stuart’s head. But in
a flash quicker than my mind could register, she was gone. With
little effort, my Guardian had retrieved her gun and threw her out
into the moist early morning sky. I looked down briefly and watched
her fall. It was far enough down to be fatal, and I opted to avoid
watching the impact.

Stuart made saving lives look easy, and I
wondered if that was the first fatality suffered at his hands. He
ended someone’s life in front of my eyes, but I didn’t care. I felt
like I should have cared, or felt remorse, or shock, but nothing in
me changed. A Bane died in the line of duty; someone who could
easily kill me, or Stuart, or anyone. Did she have kids, a husband,
a girlfriend? Would someone mourn for her besides Jasper?

There was no time left to think about
Genevieve. Now we were three and unless Stuart could pilot the
thing, we were at the mercy of the man in the driver’s seat.

“Hello, love.” He kissed me quick, still
sending charged volts to my toes, even in the face of death. He
reached over and closed the door then stepped up to the empty
co-pilot seat. “You will need to let me take over, mate.”

Yes, Stuart could pilot the thing. Why would
I ever doubt?

The pilot with short, spiked brown hair
grinned through his dark aviator glasses and said nothing.

“Suit yourself,” Stuart said in response to
the pilot’s non-answer.

I kept missing his movements. They were like
fast-action stunts you would need to rewind to examine if this were
a movie. Somehow, Stuart and the pilot had switched seats, the
pilot looked as bewildered as I felt, and his mouth hung open in a
more humble demeanor now.

And Stuart piloted the helicopter. My
boyfriend the aviator, one of the many talents he probably
collected over the centuries that he never mentioned.

But the pilot quickly returned to his senses
– he was Bane after all – and lunged at me. Stuart left his station
to pull him off, clutching his throat and making a promise. “Touch
her again and die.”

This was the second episode where I watched
Stuart in a violent confrontation. Colonsay was more of a rescue,
but I recognized the familiar contained rage from the night he
pinned Andre to the car. When Stuart was…Stuart, he was a
delectable, kind, gentle creature man-boy, and anyone would loose a
bet to think this side of him existed.

But it did.

And it was very real.

He returned to the front of the helicopter
after throwing the pilot hard against the closed door. It was
growing crowded in the tight space. Sitting still was
claustrophobic enough without all the activity. Stuart stopped the
copter from wobbling out of control. While the pilot leaned against
the door panting slightly, his phone rang.

“Don’t answer that.” Stuart ordered from the
front, but pilot guy ignored him.

I knew it was Jasper.

They spoke another language. German? Some
other eastern European dialect?

“I fucking speak Croatian asshole. Hang up!”
He shouted, looking way too young to navigate the giant
machine.

Oh sure, Croatian.

The pilot grinned again, reached behind the
seat, pulled out a backpack, opened the door, and jumped.

Stuart stood, quickly closed the door then
returned to his pilot duties.

“Sit up front with me.” I sat next to him,
utterly astonished, glancing over as he expertly flipped switches
and steered the bird calmly through the air. I couldn’t contain
myself, and my hysterical laughter seemed appropriate in the
moment. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh my god, oh my god.” Tears streamed down
my face. “When did you, how can you…Croatian? Pilot? How long will
it take before I know all there is to know about you? And are you
just flying through the air now, landing on helicopters…oh my god…”
Tears streamed down my face, while his turned serious.

“Adrenaline is a great motivator,” he said.
“Hang on.”

We were headed down and fast. Stuart had put
on the headset and obviously heard transmission.

My laughing stopped. “Crap! They have Mom,
don’t they? They have Mom, Colin, and they are demanding we
land…”

“Yes,” he solemnly replied. “Down there.”

There was enough dim winter sunlight to see a
group of people standing below but I couldn’t make out individual
faces yet.

Mom?

I’m here, Layla. There’s a gun to my
head.

“Shit!” I screamed. “They’re holding a gun to
Mom’s head. Hurry!”

Stuart’s unchanged expression told me he was
thinking. After many long moments, he finally spoke. “Listen. We
may need to play this by ear. Just stay locked into me mentally and
go with it, okay?”

“Is there another choice?”

We landed a few yards away from the group.
Jasper, Andre, pilot guy who apparently landed safe, two big thugs,
Mom and Colin, sans Genevieve stood waiting, guns pulled, not
looking terribly happy.

The two lynch men broke from the group and
were headed toward us, presumably to provide a proper escort for
us.

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