Part 29 (1/2)
”Yes, Jenson, get her out of here,” Bryn commanded him and walked out, waving Zach to follow him.
Mercutio bounded after them. Of course, he's going to play. That cat likes fighting entirely too much.
”We need to help them,” I said.
”Mr. Lyons is the most excellent strategist I have ever had the occasion to meet,” Jenson said, extending a hand to indicate that I should precede him from the room. ”If he feels that he and the officer can handle the difficulties, I'm sure they will be able to.”
”Then why do we have to get locked in a vault?” I asked, walking out of the room.
”The vault is a terrible idea,” Lennox Lyons said, appearing from around a corner in the hallway. ”And, as it happens, I am in need of Ms. Trask's a.s.sistance with another matter.” Lennox looked like he needed the teaspoon of sugar and lumberjack breakfast I'd started the day with. He was pale and sweaty and even from where I was standing I could see the dark spot on his black s.h.i.+rt. His wound was bleeding.
”Sir, there seems to be rather considerable trouble. It would be best if you joined us in the vault.”
Lennox looked like he was considering it, then stepped forward suddenly and clocked Jenson in the head. The elderly butler went down like a sinker in a pond.
”Oh!” I gasped, dropping to my knees. His pulse was steady in his throat. ”With the exception of some werewolves, I can't remember when I've ever disliked anybody as much as you,” I said, trying to keep myself from screaming curses at him.
Lennox grabbed my arm in a steely grip, making me wince. I was already bruised from the darn wolves.
”Let go of me,” I snapped, trying to yank free.
A second later, I was staring into the barrel of a gun. My mouth dropped open in surprise.
”I've got no patience left and no time. Come with me or I'll shoot you,” he said.
”What the heck are you talking about?”
”Let's go,” he said, waving the gun to emphasize that he was in a hurry. I stood, glancing around. I hoped Steve was catching all this on one of those security cameras because I was so going to press charges if I lived through it.
I went with Lennox deep into the house, then out a back door through a fabulous-smelling garden to a path where a golf cart waited for us.
”You'll drive,” Lennox said, sitting in the pa.s.senger seat.
”Does it interest you to know that your son needs help fighting werewolves right now?”
”He can take care of himself. I raised him,” Lennox said, his voice weary.
”You've lost a lot of blood, haven't you?”
”Just drive.”
My mind raced as I drove the cart down the cobbled path. Lennox had been sick before the witch's meeting. Maybe he hadn't gotten his bad wound that night. Maybe it was just covered up and had reopened during the fight there.
”Why did you kill Diego, the werewolf?” I asked, taking a stab.
He ignored me. I noticed he didn't deny it.
”Well? I have a right to know! I've nearly been witch tartare more than once, and now men I care about are going to be in a shootout over all this trouble you caused.”
”Quiet down, Nancy Shrew,” he said. ”We can talk after.”
”After what?”
”After I've washed this blood off, and you've helped me cast a spell.”
”What spell?” When he didn't speak up, I added, ”I want answers, and I want them right now.”
”To quote Jagger: 'You can't always get what you want.' ”
I pursed my lips together. Yep, I definitely hated him. I wished we were on the tor. Consequences be d.a.m.ned, I'd have made a crack in the earth and shoved him in it.
We parked the cart in front of the biggest pole barn I'd ever seen. Easily three thousand square feet. I followed him inside, stunned to see a huge aquarium full of murky water. The place stank of fish, and the tank took up two-thirds of the barn. It was incredible. The tank walls stretched up to about eight feet tall, and there were ladders leading to five-foot platforms. I wondered what in the world they needed such a big fish tank for.
Lennox hit a b.u.t.ton, and I heard gears turn, but couldn't tell what he'd done. He walked over to a ladder and pointed to it.
”Get in the tank.”
”I don't-”
He grabbed my arm roughly, giving me an impatient yank.
I hissed in pain and climbed up the ladder, looking down into the grayish water.
”Get in the water now.”
I pinched my nose and jumped in. The salt water stung my eyes, but it wasn't as cold as I'd expected. I treaded water, sputtering in aggravation.
A moment later, a set of bars slid overhead.
”What are you doing?” I screamed. He'd trapped me.
”I don't want you wandering off while I'm occupied.”
”Let me out!”
”You'll be fine. Just keep away from the bars.”
The bars were about three feet above my head. What the h.e.l.l did I look like? A porpoise?
I heard a splash and knew he'd gotten in some other part of the tank.
”What in the Sam Houston?” I mumbled, swimming toward the sound of him grunting in pain. I reached another set of bars. So the tank was part.i.tioned in sections, like underwater jail cells.
Something in the next part grabbed my leg, but I didn't have time to scream before it dragged me down. I thrashed and fought, but whatever had s.n.a.t.c.hed my leg yanked it partway through the bars.
My pulse hammered through me as the thing tried to pull my leg out of joint. My chest squeezed tight. I needed air, but I didn't have to worry about drowning. I was going to have a heart attack before that.
I pretended to relax, not thras.h.i.+ng, then I pressed my free foot against a bar and shoved with all my might. I guess all that Tae Bo three years ago really worked because I got free and broke through the surface of the water, sputtering and shrieking.
I treaded water, thinking that I was pretty d.a.m.n tired of having the life nearly scared out of me all the time. My legs cramped, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could stay above water.