The Firsts: Hard Days Night Part 8

He wanted to rip his hair out. Where the h.e.l.l was she? The pizza lay on the table cold and untouched, the beer too warm by far, and he was losing his mind.

Luka had found the note, contacted the local P.D. and followed her to the address they'd sent her to for a homicide an hour earlier. Not only was there no sign of Mal, there was no homicide vic, either.

Luka and the local officers had combed the area and found nothing on the empty stretch of beach.

"I thought there was a house right near here, but I guess I was wrong," Captain Smith had told Luka after they'd covered the entire area. "I would have sworn... Anyway, we'll stay on this. Do you want to bring in your own team from L.A. to help with the search?"

"Yeah," Luka had said, his attention fractured. How had this all gone so wrong? Canzone couldn't have known she was here, right? Who else could it have been?

When he finished a call with Captain Kordalis thirty minutes earlier, the Captain had rung off quickly. Four of his best detectives were en route, while he investigated Canzone and the unlikely possibility that he'd known where she and Luka had gone. He felt responsible.

Luka, being unreasonable, and he knew he was, agreed. Somehow, that a.s.shole Canzone must have known how to get to Mal. And even though the Captain couldn't have known how resourceful Canzone might be, Luka needed someone to blame. And Kordalis was it. He'd apologize later if it was necessary.

For now, only one thing mattered; they had to get Mal back safely.

The local deputies already had people combing through the town's security cameras which, except for at private residences, were too few. Apparently crime was very low in this small town where most of the residents were wealthy people and rarely there.

"We need to bring in the men who found the body. It was probably a plant to lure Mal," Luka insisted.

"Doesn't make sense, detective." Captain Smith had been a police officer for thirty-two years and had a good handle on criminal behavior. "This couldn't have been a set-up. It wasn't predictable that your detective would listen to our calls, that my team would be too busy to take the call, that she would respond to it herself. Alone. Nothing makes any sense here." He looked out at the waves, loud tonight because the wind had picked up and the moon was still fairly full. "It does seem as if I'm missing something though."

"We can't afford to miss something, sir," Luka insisted.

"I agree. Let's check the area once more, taking more care to watch for anything that seems out of the ordinary."

"We have to find her," Luka said, mostly to himself, but Captain Smith answered anyway.

"We'll find her, detective."

Luka nodded and headed out to the beach. He looked at the long span of sand that stretched hundreds of feet in either direction. There was a house within a hundred yards of the next one all along this stretch of the road, but not here. Why wasn't there a house here? He shrugged and began a meticulous search. If Mal had been abducted from here, she would have done everything she could to leave a clue for him. But it was like she just evaporated.

Nothing would stop him until he found her.

He slid his cell phone out and double-checked it for the third time. Whatever had happened, she hadn't even had a chance to try to contact him.

It was Canzone, it had to be. No matter what the Captain did, he probably wouldn't make any progress, because Canzone was smart and had incredible resources, so nothing he did would create any trail or evidence that led to Mal's whereabouts. The Captain would have to work within the law.

Luka wouldn't. There was no boundary he wouldn't cross to get Mal back safely where she belonged.

Captain Smith joined him and clicked his tongue.

"There just isn't any lead. I'm sorry, detective. We're finished here. You're welcome to stay. The sun will be up in about an hour and that might help. I've got to get home, though. My girls will be waking up and I'm the breakfast chef. Let me know if there is anything else we can do for you. My officers will bring in the ATV'ers tomorrow morning and we'll see what they have to say. Goodnight."

Luka couldn't speak, so he just nodded.

Yeah, he'd be out here at first light.

Mal was dreaming, and it was a really, really nice dream. It was night, the kind that had a billion brilliant stars sparkling in a black velour sky with a romantic crescent moon hanging low, glowing like a night-light.

She was dressed in a sheer ankle-length dress, her hair fuller than it had ever been cascaded down her back, and a perfect Adonis walked towards her on a beach, naked and heart-stopping. Her hand moved to her lower belly, the fingers caressing the sensitive skin, as she waited for the man who could not exist to arrive. That was okay, because in this dream, she was a woman who couldn't exist either.

This soft, sweet, sensual darling wasn't her. And a dress? How many years had it been since she wore one of those? She knew instantly, because it was etched in her mind; her mother's funeral, and that was fifteen years ago.

The real Mal was more of a s.e.xual animal, a predator, that stalked her prey when the mood struck, then leaped, caught the creature, s.e.xed herself on him, and then let him go. Yeah, catch and release, she liked the sound of that.

But this Mary Tyler Moore sweet woman with the flowing dress, it was nothing more than an illusion. As the dream man arrived and picked her up in strong, incredibly well cut arms, she moaned. Illusion worked for her, very well, for this moment.

Dream man had long dark hair and eyes as dark as the night sky, and everything about him made her body thrum. She wrapped her legs around him and kissed him, his tongue moving in ways she never expected, exciting her as she'd never been before. He lowered her to the ground and when she reached for him, he pushed her back down and wrapped his hands around her ankles to hold her in place while he lowered his mouth to her. Mal's dream-head lifted to look down at him, his dark eyes the last thing she saw before his tongue dipped into her and she dropped her head back with a moan. She was accustomed to controlling everything around her, but this was one of times when you just give in and experience the moment.

Mal startled awake, and rolled onto her side. Ahhh, what a disappointment! The dream was just getting so good.

Stretching her arms over her head, she opened her eyes to meet nearly pitch blackness, no light at all coming from the French doors near the balcony. That wasn't right.

She sat up, her hands dropping to the surface below her to verify that she was in bed. Yeah, she was in bed, although she didn't remember satin sheets, but the darkness creeped her out.

"Don't remember falling asleep in a cave," she whispered, and started to push off the bed, when her hand struck a warm body.

What? Who the h.e.l.l was in bed with her?

Then memory crashed back. Oh, f.u.c.k, yeah, she'd been forcibly detained in a beach house with a man who was jack-s.h.i.+t crazy.

She released a low groan. Oh, f.u.c.k, yeah, and she'd had s.e.x with him!

Listening carefully, she decided he was asleep, so she slipped slowly from the other side of the bed, and felt around until she found something to put on. It wasn't hers, but that didn't matter, just anything to get her out of this house.

After she scooped up what felt like a s.h.i.+rt, she eased out of the dark room into a dark corridor, and since she was barefoot, it wasn't hard to make her way soundlessly up some stairs and finally out into a sunlit living room. All-white furniture curved around one of the biggest widescreen televisions she'd ever seen outside of a theatre.

But she didn't have time to linger. The s.h.i.+rt was a pale gray men's s.h.i.+rt, although on her it made a dress, so she slid it on and hurried to the sliding doors that led out of the back of the house. She unlatched the door to open it.

And just stood there. Her hand rested on the handle, and all she needed to do was push it back and leave. But she couldn't. Her hand and body locked in place, all she could do was look at the freedom beyond the gla.s.s doors.

He'd told her he could command her to do anything and she would comply without question and with no ability to resist the command. She'd already experienced it with the cell phone and following him to the bedroom, but this just blew her mind.

Mal stepped back away from the door. That she could do. She turned and walked back into the center of the room. Fine, not a problem. So she walked quickly back to the door and put her hand on it to slide it open. Once again, her body would not obey.

This was beyond anything she'd ever experienced and she could not imagine how he could do it.

Turning, she walked back to the center of the living room and threw herself down on the superplush sofa, the cus.h.i.+ons so overstuffed, she almost bounced back off.

Mal just sat there and looked at the door and the beach. Shaking her head, she made a decision that this could not, and would not, happen.

Hopping back off the sofa, she went into the kitchen, where another door led to the side of the house, and she threw herself against it, turning the lock and the handle. And that was all she could do.

"f.u.c.k me to the moon," Mal whispered.

Okay, was there a phone of any kind? A quiet, thorough search turned up nothing.

She was trapped. Somehow, some crazya.s.s way, she was trapped in here with the super-s.e.xy nutcase. Nothing she did would get her out of this house, or a way to contact help. She was a little scared again and a lot p.i.s.sed.

The only thing to do now was wait until he got out of bed. Since she hadn't had any dinner tonight, her stomach was grumbling, so she hoped the fruit-loop had some food in that huge refrigerator that took up most of the pint-sized kitchen. Opening the door, she was amazed. Was there food? Anything you could imagine, the thing was packed.

It took a few moments to make her selections, but once she had, Mal carried everything over to the fat sofa, and turned on the giant television. Even though she had no interest in the programs, she hoped it would distract her attention from her unexplainable imprisonment. A science fiction movie was playing and she let her eyes stay on the film while she bit into a sandwich she'd made by stacking several types of meat on some odd-looking bread and slathering it with a white sauce that looked like mayonnaise.

After the first bite, she paused and looked at the sandwich. She didn't know if she was just hypersensitive to everything right now, which she hoped explained why she'd had s.e.x with this man, but the flavors were extraordinary.

"Best sandwich ever," Mal whispered, as she took a second bite and rolled her eyes. Movement outside of the window drew here attention and she sat up.

Holy h.e.l.l! It was Luka! Outside of the house, near the waterline, he wandered into view of the sliding gla.s.s doors.

She exploded off the sofa and ran to the door. He couldn't be more than 20 yards away, so she began banging on the door, yelling as loud as she could. He was close enough, he should be able to hear her!

But he didn't look up. Why couldn't he hear her? She continued to wave and bang and yell, and although he moved even closer, he didn't act as if he heard anything at all. She was about to concede defeat when he looked up suddenly, right at the door.

"Luka! Luka! Over here! Luka!"

But he looked right at the door, right at her, and didn't notice her desperately banging on the door. How was this possible? Mal stood at the door, hands planted on the gla.s.s, eyes watering, because she knew this was her last hope, and just stared at her partner.

"He can't see you."

Mal twirled.

Ahmose stood in the hallway, sheltered from direct daylight.

"Why can't he see me? And why can't I leave?"

"Mal, I told you. I have abilities you will have trouble understanding. He can't see you because I've spelled this house to be unnoticed by anyone other than first bloods. He is looking right at it, but he can't see it. For him, it doesn't exist. And you already know why you can't leave. I've asked you not to leave the house using compulsion, so it isn't possible until I release you. I'm sorry, little detective. As soon as night comes, I will feed again to finish my healing, and I will let you go."

"Why are you standing in the f.u.c.king hallway?"

"Daylight. Ultraviolet light is very dangerous for vampires."

"Stop that! There's no such thing as vampires. I don't know how you're doing the s.h.i.+t you're doing, but vampires do not exist."

"All right. Go out that door."

Mal looked through the gla.s.s wall as Luka disappeared from view. She turned back to face Ahmose, who leaned comfortably, naked, against the wall of the hallway. She told herself he was dangerous and crazy, but she couldn't take her eyes off of his big, ridiculously gorgeous body. She shook her head.

"You know I can't. And even if I don't understand any of this, I still don't believe you're the walking dead."

"I'm not. Vampires are not dead. Would you like to come over here and feel my body again to see how warm and alive I am?" His hand slipped down to slide under his c.o.c.k, which was beginning to harden. "I feel very awake right now."

In response, her own body betrayed her and she wanted to do exactly what he suggested.

"f.u.c.k you," she said, instead, and stayed by the well-lit door. Just in case.

Ahmose smiled. "That was the plan."

"You know how I meant it."

He pushed off the wall, and her eyes dropped to where his fingers now curved over and over around the head of his p.e.n.i.s. Sighing, his eyes caught hers again. "If you change your mind..."

"Don't hold your breath!"

"No. But you know where to find me if you do. Otherwise, I'll see you in a few hours."

He was gone.

Mal stood by the door for the next ten minutes, unmoving, her mind racing, moist between her legs, and wondered how this was happening and how it would all turn out in the end.

"We're done here. There's just nothing here to lead us to what happened to your partner," Captain Smith told Luka as he opened his car door.

Luka nodded because it was true. If Mal had been here, there was no trace. He needed to head back to L.A. because he believed Canzone had to be the one who had her.

Offering his hand with a smile, Luka then left Captain Smith, got into Mal's car, and reached for his cell phone.

"Have you found anything?" he asked abruptly when Captain Kordalis answered his call.

"Nothing. I've a team watching Canzone and Jinx. IT is combing through anything that might offer a lead or a location he might have taken her, if he's the one who did."

"He is. He has to be, who else? I'm going for him."

"Detective Huerta. You are off-duty. If you show up anywhere near Canzone or his a.s.sociates, your career is over. I'm serious, Luka. Not only will you endanger yourself, you'll endanger our efforts to find Mal and get her back safely. Say 'I understand and will comply.'" The Captain paused. "Luka?"

"I can't, sir. You wouldn't be able to either. You didn't hear how Mal spoke about this man. She was terrified of him. We don't have time to play this by the book. I don't give a f.u.c.k about the law."

"I get that. But he's so wealthy and so powerful, if we let him know we are looking, he'll take her so far underground, we won't find her no matter how long or hard we try. And if you go looking, you'll just become another hostage. Or a gruesome message. Don't do it, detective. Give me a few days to find out what we can."

Luka slammed his fist into the dashboard of Mal's car, the silly rubber monkey she hung from the rearview mirror bounced frantically on an elastic cord. He swallowed hard.

"Twenty-four hours, sir. Twenty-four," he finally said, and pushed the end b.u.t.ton with finality.

Twenty-four hours? Might as well be two thousand.

IN A DOWNTOWN L.A. PENTHOUSE APARTMENT.

The party would go all night. When Canzone threw a party, no one left until they were forced to because he only threw two per year, and they were the only place to be in the city when the doors opened to Canzone's high-end apartment for the event.

Canzone was laughing to a very non-funny joke by a celebrity he found boring, but useful, so he coughed up a hearty guffaw. Upending his gla.s.s, he sucked down the extra-strong whisky sour in his hand as he lifted his eyes and saw Jinx standing near the bar trying to gain his attention.

f.u.c.k! He should have already killed that weasel. It wasn't like he got much of anything right. It wasn't like he didn't get the easiest a.s.signments of anyone. All he usually had to do was off someone within the parameters of an exact plan.

Canzone choked down the rest of his drink.

"Excuse me, Carlisle, I'll be back in just a few," he said to the man gesturing wildly in front of him while he tried to convey a story of some weird-a.s.s s.e.xcapade. The man was already bombed, and Canzone felt safe to leave his dull company without repercussions.

Beaming a bright smile at his guests as he pa.s.sed them, Canzone walked past the bar, past Jinx, and entered a room behind a panel that held a coded keypad.