As if suddenly realizing that he was screaming, Cyril swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and took a calming breath. “Don’t you all see?” He scanned the crowd searching for support. “Laurel Rose was holding all of us back. The whole town of Salvation needs this development.” He straightened his jacket and drew himself up. “You all know I’m right.”

  “He sent Aaron and Clem out to kill her chickens and frighten her a little.” The crowd all turned as one and stared at the blond woman who stepped forward. Everyone recognized her immediately. As a waitress at the town’s only diner, Karen was well known by all the locals.

  Cyril was staring at her in disbelief, but Karen wasn’t finished. “When you’re a waitress, people seem to think you’re invisible.” She pointedly glared at the mayor before turning back to the crowd that was now shuffling with unease. They were good, honest folks, and while many of them thought Laurel Rose should sell her land, none of them would condone hurting either her or her property.

  “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” someone from the crowd yelled.

  Karen nodded as the crowd murmured. “That’s a fair question. I didn’t say anything because I really didn’t know this woman and I depended on that diner for my living. The mayor could have gotten me fired. His cousin owns the diner. But I’m leaving town soon and I really don’t care any longer. And Laurel Rose seems like a nice woman and she doesn’t deserve to have them harassing her.”

  Karen drew her coat tighter around her and tilted her chin up, as if daring anyone to disagree. “I know a lot of secrets about this town.” Her gaze panned the crowd, silencing it. “And I know that Aaron and Clem were heading out to the McCaffey place tonight to hurt someone. Those two can’t keep their mouths shut.” She turned to Stefan and his brothers. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”

  Stefan nodded at Karen, now more thankful than ever that he’d met her that first night in Salvation. Leaning down, he brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Thank you.”

  Turning away from her, Stefan growled as he advanced toward Cyril, but the man was beyond all common sense and fear. “So what if I sent Aaron and Clem out to kill her chickens and frighten her a little? The woman has no right to stay on that land. Her stepfather promised to sell it to me as soon as he wed her mama. I always knew that land would be worth a small fortune someday. But the son of a bitch died before he could make good on his promise. That land should have been mine years ago. Mine!” he screamed. “Laurel Rose is nothing but a witch.”

  Stefan grabbed the crazed man by the scruff of his neck and lifted him off his feet. Leaning down so only Cyril could hear him, he said, “If she dies, you won’t live the night.”

  Stefan sensed the exact moment the mayor realized what he’d done. He reeked of fear and desperation as he struggled in Stefan’s grasp. “Put me down,” Cyril gasped, trying to sound tough and unconcerned. But his façade of bravado slowly slipped away under Stefan’s dark glare.

  “Who has Laurel Rose?” Stefan’s eyes promised retribution as he glared at the man in his grasp. “Who?”

  “He won’t hurt her unless he has to.” The mayor’s words sounded false to Stefan’s ears. Cyril wasn’t so sure about his cohort. “At least, he won’t do anything until she signs the papers.”

  Stefan growled low in his throat as he plucked the name from Cyril’s mind. It took all his self-control not to just break the man’s neck and be done with him. The mayor didn’t care what happened to Laurel Rose so long as he got her land. Stefan’s fingers tightened convulsively. It would be so easy.

  His head snapped up suddenly and he listened intently, easily subduing the mayor’s struggles. It had been the faintest of sounds, but he’d heard it. He sensed his brothers both searching and scanning the night as if they’d heard it too. His name whispered on the wind and caressed his mind. He locked down hard on the source. Sending his own senses out searching, he followed the slight psychic trail. Now he knew where to find her.

  Opening his hand, he dropped the mayor, ignoring him as he fell to the ground. Cyril groaned and rolled to a sitting position, yelling as he saw two state police officers approaching. “Arrest him! He assaulted me.”

  One of the officers helped Cyril up before slapping a pair of cuffs on his wrists. “You have the right to remain silent.” The rest of what the officer said was lost as the mayor began to scream and struggle against the restraints.

  Sam Cassidy, who’d been standing at the back of the crowd watching the scene unfold, stepped forward and nodded to Stefan. “I’ll help clean up the mess here and follow you. Where are you going?”

  Stefan inclined his head toward Cassidy in acknowledgment. “I’m going to church.” Turning, he stalked back through the crowd, which was still muttering and talking.

  Most were appalled by the mayor’s actions, but some said they always knew that Cyril Jenkins came from a bad family and blood would tell. Many were suddenly sympathetic toward Laurel Rose, recalling the numerous times her grandpa, and even Laurel Rose herself, had helped different members of the community.

  There was a small crowd gathered around Karen, talking all at once. Some were sympathetic toward her and were desperately trying to find out more of the gossip. Others were more interested in finding out why she was leaving town and where she was going.

  Stefan had no time or patience for their small-town gossip.

  The town would talk for years about this night, he knew. The story would grow to legendary proportions over time, but for now, the townspeople all quickly got out of the way of the three dark strangers as they strode back out of Salvation.

  The moment they were beyond the sight of the people, Stefan raced toward the white church on the outskirts of town. Laurel Rose was there and she was dying.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Laurel Rose groaned. Her bed felt hard tonight and she was so very cold. Shivering, she tried to roll over and grab the covers, but she couldn’t move. Frowning, she forced her eyes to open, but it was difficult to get them to stay that way. Her head throbbed and she squinted as the meager light from a single candle hurt her eyes.

  “Good. You’re awake. I was beginning to wonder if you would wake up. Not that it really matters, I suppose, but it is more fulfilling this way.” Jeremiah Stoner’s cool voice brushed her skin like an icy wind. It was then she realized she was naked.

  Her hands had been tied together, raised above her head, and securely bound to something. She tugged at the bindings, but her arms were almost numb because the ropes wrapped around them were so tight. She seemed to be spread over a low stone surface, much like an altar. “Where,” she began, stopping to lick her dry lips. “Where are we?”

  “This is my place. No one comes here but me.” She heard the sound of a match striking and then a candle flared to life just off to her right. It illuminated a room painted entirely in black. From what she could see, the room was mostly empty except for the slab of stone she was lying on. Turning her head, she glimpsed several long aquariums, but instead of fish they held poisonous snakes that hissed and slithered when the light hit them.

  Jeremiah continued around the room, lighting candles that sat atop tall black metal stands. When the room was ablaze with light, he stood beside her, staring down at her like some dark demon. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he stroked his hand along the side of her face. Laurel Rose jerked her head away, but he just laughed, dug his fingers into her cheeks, and turned her face back toward him. “There is no escape. You are mine to do with as I choose.”

  “You’re crazy.” The words slipped out of her mouth, but he just laughed. The maniacal sound echoed in the dark, almost empty chamber.

  “Perhaps. But perhaps not.” Giving her face one final squeeze, he allowed his hand to slip down the curve of her neck and onto her bare shoulder. Laurel Rose shivered with revulsion. His fingertips were icy against her flesh as he traced his hand over her breasts and then down across her belly. Her stomach roiled at his touch. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I have you.”

  Moving down toward her feet, he gripped her ankle in his hand. She tried to kick out, wanting to hurt him, but she was still so weak that all she did was hurt herself when her leg fell back against the stone.

  “Temper, temper.” He chuckled to himself. He wrapped a length of rope around her ankle, captured her other foot, and bound the two of them together before securing them to a large iron circle at the base of the table. When he was finished, he brushed his hands and stood back, staring at his handiwork. “There, that’s perfect.”

  “What do you want with me?” Laurel Rose still couldn’t believe that a man who purported to be a man of God would shoot out her tire, cause an accident, and then kidnap her. She’d always sensed that he was malevolent, but this was beyond her comprehension.

  “It’s simple, really.” He strode around the table, studying her from every angle. She followed him as best she could, not wanting to take her eyes off him for a minute. Like the snakes against the wall, he was dangerous and deadly and preparing to strike. “I want your power.”

  She forced herself not to cringe when she felt him standing behind her head, but was unable to suppress the cry of distress that escaped her lips when he stroked her hair. The man was pure evil. She sensed it in every cell of his body. He was enjoying her fear and discomfort, getting perverse pleasure and drawing power from it. Laurel Rose bit her lip to smother her cries. She would not feed his ego or his enjoyment. Stefan would come.

  That thought helped clear the terror and the cobwebs from her mind. Surely it had to be dark by now. Stefan would have risen and would be searching for her. Opening up all her senses, she called out to him with her mind. She had no idea where she was, but she prayed the connection they had would help lead him to her.

  “What do you mean you want my power? And just where are we?” She needed to keep him talking. Anything to give Stefan more time to find her. And he would come. Of that she had absolutely no doubt. She just had to stay alive long enough for him to find her.

  “Why, we’re at church, Laurel Rose. It’s quite convenient for me and no one would think to look for you here. No one else knows that this room exists. I had it built specially, dug out below the church with a secret entrance only I know about. The poor builder had an unfortunate accident once the room was finished.” His footsteps echoed on the wooden floor as he walked around the altar to stand at her side once again. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared down at her with a benign expression on his face. It was the one he commonly wore—a placid mask that hid the monster beneath.

  Laurel Rose shuddered to think of what had become of that other man. She imagined that her fate would not be much different from his. But she wasn’t dead yet and she wasn’t about to give up. As unobtrusively as possible, she worked the ropes that were tied around her wrists, trying to loosen them enough so she might be able to free herself. “Very clever.” She sensed Jeremiah’s need to brag about his accomplishments, to have his ego stroked. She’d keep him talking all night if that’s what it took.

  Jeremiah inclined his head. “I thought so. The simple fools of this parish actually think I’m a priest. Pity they never checked out my credentials or they might have discovered that the original Jeremiah Stoner was a man in his late sixties. Such a shame he had to have an accident.”

  The man was absolutely insane. How many heinous crimes had this man perpetrated in order to feed his sick fantasies? Forcing herself to look suitably impressed, she inclined her head. “Very clever indeed.”

  Jeremiah smirked, the light from the candles giving a demonic glow to his soulless blue eyes. “Preach a sermon on Sunday and pretend to be concerned about all their petty little problems and you get to live for free with a salary. A pathetic lot really, but useful.”

  She froze as he reached out his hand and traced her lips with his fingers. Her heart was pounding hard against her chest, but there was no way to slow the rapid beat. She forced herself not to outwardly react to his touch. Even though the room was cool, a bead of sweat slid down her temple.

  “My father was a preacher. He beat the words of the Good Book into me. Quite useful, actually.” He continued his one-sided conversation, seemingly lost in his memories. “Too bad he didn’t live long enough to see me preach a sermon.” Goose bumps covered her flesh as he gently cupped her head and tugged her braid out from under her body. Holding it in his hand, he stared as if mesmerized by the long, dark hair. “Unfortunately for my father, I had need of his blood.”

  “His blood!” Laurel Rose was appalled. He’d actually killed his own father.

  “Hmm,” he absently agreed as he continued to finger her braid. She was hardly breathing now, afraid to do or say anything that might set him off or make him turn even more violent. She had to stay alive no matter what it took.

  He looked like a man in the throes of ecstasy as he smoothed the ends of the braid over his face and leaned even closer. “Too bad you’ve got such an ugly scar on your face.” He feathered the ends of hair down of the right side of her face, tracing the thin white line. “And your poor leg,” he murmured with false sympathy. “Such a shame for a young woman to be so scarred. I’ll bet your new boyfriend fucked you in the dark so he didn’t have to look at you.”

  She cringed at his vile words and tried not to listen. She would not allow him to taint what she and Stefan had shared. His laughter scraped against her nerves. He dropped the braid, allowing it to fall across her chest. Turning away from her, he walked to a shrouded corner. Laurel Rose kept her eyes on him as she tugged at her bindings. She hoped it wasn’t only her imagination, but they seemed to be getting looser.

  “I, on the other hand, have no interest in your body. If I had more time, perhaps I would indulge, but I have waited long enough for you.” Jeremiah turned back from the corner and Laurel Rose’s blood ran cold. In one hand, he clasped a large silver chalice. In the other, a long-handled knife. The knife blade shone silver in the candlelight, the handle encrusted with what certainly looked like real rubies. “The silver in the blade and the chalice will enhance the potency of your blood.” He held it to the candle, inspecting it. “There are those of us who understand the power of blood.”

  “There are more of you?” Laurel Rose didn’t bother to hide her revulsion.

  “Oh, yes, my dear. Not many, I’ll grant you that. Just a select group who understand what true power is and who aren’t afraid to reach out and take it. I was lucky enough to meet such a man when I was younger. When the time came, I absorbed his own power into my body.” Jeremiah smiled, his handsome features a sharp contrast to the ugliness of his soul. “His blood was quite potent.” He licked his lips.

  “Devil worshipers?” She couldn’t fathom the depths of his depravity.

  “No, no.” He smiled. “We don’t believe in God or the Devil. There is only power. If you know how to get it and how to wield it, you can have anything your heart desires.”

  Laurel Rose shook her head. There would be no reasoning, no chance of reprieve from Jeremiah. He was beyond compassion, beyond redemption. She swallowed back the bile that threatened to choke her. All she could do was pray that Stefan would get to her in time.

  “Your blood will feed me, give me strength. I’ve had to make do with inferior blood for quite some time now. But you . . .” He stroked the ruby lovingly with his fingers. “You, Laurel Rose, will nourish me, empower me.”

  Setting the chalice on a ledge just below her bound hands, he examined her wrists and frowned. “You’ve been naughty, I see. You’ve made your wrists bleed—that’s a waste of good blood.”

  She didn’t see the blow coming in time to turn her head. Tethered as she was, there was no way to avoid it. His fist slammed against her temple, delivering a staggering blow. Darkness threatened but she fought it. If she passed out, she was dead. She tasted blood in her mouth.

  His hands wrapped around her throat, tightening with each word. “I will have your power, Laurel Rose. The townspeople call you a witch, but you have psychic powers that rival mine. The power is in the blood. Every culture since the beginning of time has known that. Warriors in ancient times ate the hearts of their enemies and drank their blood to ingest their power.”

  Her eyes bulged. She gasped and wheezed, struggling for a single breath of air. Her vision was getting dimmer until he released her and stepped back, grabbing for the silver blade. Coughing and choking, she tried to speak, but that was beyond her. He held the dagger high in the air above her and paused. “You will bleed for me, Laurel Rose. I will watch it drain into the chalice and as you lay dying, I will drink it, taking your power into me.” He smiled and brought the blade closer to her body.

  “You’re insane,” she whispered, tugging frantically on the ropes. But there was no escape. “Stefan.” She tried to scream his name, but her throat was raw and swollen and what came out was even less than a whisper. But Jeremiah heard it and laughed.

  “Your lover is most likely dead by now. He cannot save you. This is your destiny. I am your fate.” The razor-sharp blade sliced through her skin easily. At first she felt nothing. Then the pain struck and she cried out. Warm blood flowed down her bound hands to drain into the waiting chalice.

  Suddenly, the door to the chamber exploded inward, smashing into hundreds of tiny shards of wood. A sense of calm filled Laurel Rose in spite of her precarious situation. Stefan had arrived, he’d come for her just as she’d known he would. Jeremiah had jerked back at the explosion and, seeing that his attention was no longer on her, she continued to work at her bindings.