Falcon (Kindred, #5)

SEVEN-1

SEVEN

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Devon got her way. After waiting for an inordinate amount of time, she was shown to a bedroom on the floor above the dining room, which had the same view, suggesting to her that they didn’t want her to see more than she had to.

But it had a view and that was a step up from where she’d been before—she’d learned to be thankful for life’s small graces. While the furniture was sparse, she had a bed and a chair and a TV. Before this ordeal, she had never been one to watch a lot of TV, but when she found it was tuned to the movie channels, she enjoyed losing herself in fantasy for a couple of hours.

The bathroom attached to this room was larger than the last one and had a full bath. Throughout her day, she kept one eye on the door. After Bess had shown her the room, Devon checked that the door wasn’t locked. She’d been overjoyed to find it wasn’t, more so than any person should be about an opening door. The blue circle was present on the doorknob, but it must have been disabled because every time she checked the door it would open.

She never got much beyond opening it a couple of inches. Her room led to a mezzanine floor that overlooked the grand entryway. Either they’d put her here to taunt her with the possibility of an easy escape or those doors were unlocked and she could make a break for it. Maybe that was what they were waiting for and if they’d been truthful about where they were, they could use her attempt at escape to return her to her previous digs.

Whether they were expecting her to try to run or not, she couldn’t ignore the chance. She made a conscious choice to wait until nightfall, when it would be easier to hide from them outside, if she got that far, and it turned out that they weren’t isolated.

Devon had only the dress that Bess had given her and a nightgown like the one she’d had in her previous room. If rescuing women was something they did on a regular basis, she presumed they bought the basic cotton, oversized gowns in bulk.

Neither item of apparel was warm and she didn’t have shoes either. If she got lost outside then Raven was probably right that she’d freeze to death. All of this would be moot if she couldn’t find a way out of the building. So far all of the windows she’d seen were tall and narrow, at most only a foot or two wide. Her view also told her that this side of the house was raised. If she had to climb out of a window, she couldn’t do it here or she’d hit rocks.

The narrow strip of grass she’d seen the mysterious man running on earlier was thirty feet below her bedroom and only a few feet wide. She’d never be able to jump and aim for there, beyond were more rocks then the waves. No, she’d need a better plan than kamikazing herself just to make a point.

Anxiety reined as she formed her plan. No one came back into her bedroom, not even to offer her food, and she wondered at the plans they might be cooking up. Except Devon had to focus on herself.

Without a clock in the room, she couldn’t be exactly sure what time it was, so she waited until darkness fell and tried to occupy herself, hopefully giving the rest of the house time to drift off to sleep.

When she couldn’t take the waiting anymore, she tiptoed towards the door, telling herself that even if she didn’t get out tonight, she could gather valuable intelligence about where she was.

Turning the handle, so as not to make a sound, she pulled open the door just enough to allow herself to slip out. Taking one careful step out of the room, she hoped that the thump of her heart wouldn’t alert her captors to what she was doing. Looking left and then right, she checked for observers or flashing lights that might indicate she was being watched.

“Need something?”

The voice came from nowhere and she stumbled back, clambering to catch the thick doorframe that her back struck. Frantic in her search for the source of the voice, she couldn’t decipher any person until, to the left, in the shadow cast by one of the repeating arches that showcased the grand entryway below, a figure stepped out.

He didn’t come near enough to remove the darkness from his face, but she knew this wasn’t Raven, and Wren didn’t have the same formidable stature.

“Zave,” she whispered, unsure if it was a question or a statement.

“You were watching me.”

The only time she’d ever laid eyes on him was at lunch when she’d seen him outside. She didn’t know how he could have seen her. “And now you’re watching me,” she said. “What are you doing out here?”

“I live here.”

Stoic, the lack of intonation in his deep voice didn’t help her figure this man out. So intrigued by who he was and what motivated him, she forgot about her own escape plans for a minute. “That doesn’t explain what you’re doing standing outside my bedroom. Your aunt and your cousin think you have some kind of special interest in me.” Maybe saying something that might upset his equilibrium would help to put them on equal footing because her heart hadn’t slowed, in fact it was speeding up.

“Idle speculation entertains them,” he said. “Go to bed, Devon.”

When he slunk back into the darkness, she leaped forward. “Wait,” she said. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

He paused. “We each have our roles. Mine is to purchase. Conversation isn’t in my repertoire.”

Yet, he was clearly intelligent and not intimidated by her, so that wasn’t entirely true. “You’ve purchased other women before?”

His response didn’t come right away, but she waited. It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be. This conversation could take all night if that was what it took, but she would make progress with the man she believed had to be in charge. “Yes,” he said.

At least he wasn’t going to embarrass them both with denials. “But you have never spoken to one of them?”

“No.”

Knowing that this was a first for him made her a little more comfortable about being so out of her element. “Then why are you talking to me now?”

“Everyone else is asleep.”

Implying that this was a hardship didn’t wash, he had to be curious about her or he wouldn’t be here. Waking one of his houseguests if he wanted company wasn’t beyond him, not if he was happy to mislead her about who bought her, proving that he had no shame.

Now it was time to test if he’d defend that lie or admit it. “Why did you buy me? Why were you at the auction?”

“Women purchased at those auctions don’t last long, as most buyers are rich and depraved men who t*****e, r**e, and kill. I saved you from that fate.”

He had a way of answering her questions without actually answering them, which infuriated her. “And now I’m supposed to be grateful? So grateful that what? I should drop to my knees for you?”

Nothing shocked this man or invoked much of a reaction at all. “If you hadn’t thrown your fit, you and I would never have met. I’m not interested in your gratitude, your knees, or any other part of you.”

Then this whole mess made even less sense to her than it had before. “So what do you want from me? What’s your motive for doing this? Do you think you’re some kind of hero?”

“No. My motive is complicated and personal.”

There would be no other reason for him to be involved except if it was personal. Devon still wanted to know more. “I don’t understand any of this... How can I be sure you will let me go? I could go to the cops, get you into trouble—”

“We know who you are. We know we can trust you. We’re careful, Von, if we set the wrong woman loose, our mission could implode.”

Von. Why would he call her that? “Only my brother calls me that.”

The satisfaction in his response was dry. “I know.”

Oh, her stupid, ignorant, always-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-law brother knew these people. “You know him?”

“Raven does.”

“Did he send you after me?”

“We’re done.”

He thought he’d reassured her enough that he could go, but she wasn’t willing to let him turn his back on her yet. “What is your mission?”

“To take these people down.”

Admirable, but she still didn’t understand. “Why do you keep your identity secret?”

“You ask a lot of questions for a woman who won’t answer any.”

Devon didn’t understand the setup, but she was more confident that the situation wasn’t sinister. She might not be able to see this man, but he came across as sincere and that raised more questions for her, especially since she knew now that he knew her brother.

“By going to those auctions, you’re endangering yourself,” she said. “Do you understand how dangerous those men are?”

“I understand,” he said.

Choosing to walk into that scenario proved he had courage. “Why take the risk?”

“Someone has to.”

As simple as that? It couldn’t be. “So you do want to be a hero?”

“They trade in human flesh. What their victims go through is sickening.”

And from the way he spat out the words, she was convinced of his disgust. But again, he hadn’t answered her question, which forced her to speculate further. “You lost someone to them, didn’t you?” He didn’t respond. “It’s the only explanation for your conviction and why you take the risk to do what you do.”

“She wasn’t mine to lose,” he said.

Maybe it was because of the dark, or because she’d spent so long in an endless night that her other senses were keen, but she could read raw emotion in his tone even though his intonation didn’t change.

Intrigued, she stepped toward him, but that caused him to descend deeper into the darkness. “What are you hiding?”

“What does it matter?”

A hint of anger in his voice could have signaled his discomfort, but she chose not to be discouraged. “Just trying to figure you out.”

“Why?

It shouldn’t matter who he was or why he did this, but people fascinated her, and she wanted to understand what drove such an enigmatic figure so intent on secluding himself. “Bess is personable, she seems to like being social. Wren is a doctor, he spends his life helping people. But you...”

“What?”

Though he’d tried to back away before, he was staying put now, and his prompting questions made her wonder if he wanted her to figure him out. He could tell her to shut up, mind her own business, and then lock her up in the bedroom. But he didn’t, he encouraged her to keep talking by asking these open questions.

“You’re obviously the money, you carry some sense of personal guilt or responsibility, which is why you do this. But you take no glory, you admitted to never having had a conversation with the women you help, so I think you’re right. I don’t think you do want their gratitude.”

“What does that say about me?” he asked.

“Not as much as you coming to me in the dead of night while everyone else is asleep does.”

“I’m a night owl.”

Whether that was true or not, it wasn’t why he was here. “Is that it? Or are you using the night to keep hiding from me? Why would you do that? Will I recognize you? Or are you just that insecure that you can’t let me look you in the eye?”

“Being anonymous is in the nature of what I do.”

“And what is that?” He didn’t say anything, but she could sense him deliberating over his possible response. “Rescuing women from sick pigs like the cartels has to be a hobby, there’s no money in it and you need money to make the purchases, don’t you? So, it has to come from somewhere, you have to have a day job and a lucrative one too. Those guys don’t just let any john walk in off the street.”

“Auctions are by invitation only.”

Folding her arms, she tried to figure out how someone like Zave, who kept himself locked up all the time, would find himself invited to such a place. “So what do you do?”

“I build hardware innovations.”

Good. That was a direct answer and one she interpreted to mean that he was an inventor, which could be a solitary profession after all. “Alone at night in a small, dark room?” she asked. “You don’t like people?”