Someone was calling him from her phone!
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Da,” Anatoly answered the phone, ignoring the quizzical look he received from Markov. “Who is calling? Where is Maggie?” He knew it was too much to hope for that it was her on the other end, not given the scene at the police station.
The voice that came through the other line sent a chill down the vampire’s spine and made his hackles raise. “Straight to the point, how disappointing… I had hoped we would spend a little time with foreplay, Mr. Brusilev.”
Anatoly growled. He didn’t have time for games. “Where is she?” he repeated.
“Tsk, she was rather impatient as well. I suppose it’s good for couples to have things in common,” the voice said again, low and sinister.
Across the desk, Markov was frowning, but he seemed interested for the first time. He signaled to Anatoly to put the call on speaker phone and then began clacking away at the laptop in front of him.
Anatoly complied, his decision to work with the criminal having been made for him. He had already been prepared to pay the cost.
“Keep him talking for me,” Markov whispered in Russian and Anatoly nodded.
“Ah, ah,” the voice tutted. “English please, Mr. Markov. There’s no need for secrets amongst friends now is there?”
At that Anatoly’s temper flared and he struggled to keep from snapping at the man on the phone. “Friends do not abduct loved ones,” he pointed out through gritted teeth. “Release Maggie. Now.”
“Or what, you’ll sic your pet werewolf on me?”
Markov glowered at that, but resumed his work a second later.
“Nyet, I will come for you myself,” Anatoly promised. “If so much as hair is out of place?—”
The speaker sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and then laughed. “A former priest is threatening me, I hadn’t expected that. I suppose that’s your vampiric nature getting the better of you. Not to worry, Mr. Brusilev, I can forgive you for being angry.”
Anatoly was taken aback, unsure how to handle this man and wanting nothing more than to be reassured that Maggie was alive and well. His emotions were getting the better of him and he needed to rein them in. He couldn’t help Maggie if he lost his temper.
“What is purpose? Why take Maggie?” He tried a different angle, hoping to get some sort of answer he could use.
At that, the voice purred happily. “Now you’re thinking. Good.” There was a pause and then he explained, “I want to set the record straight.”
Markov snapped his fingers then, drawing Anatoly’s attention. When he looked over, the werewolf spun the laptop around and indicated an address on the screen. It took everything in Anatoly not to sprint out of the room in that direction, but the voice on the phone was still speaking.
“Did Mr. Markov finally narrow down my location with his nifty stolen technology?” the man mused. “How intriguing. Now the question you have to answer… is she here with me or did I stash her somewhere else?”
Anatoly ground his teeth together and growled. “Enough games. What do you want?”
“Aww, but I do so enjoy playing games, Mr. Brusilev.” There was a pause and then a sigh. “Oh, very well, I’d hate for you to lose your temper after all…”
“Temper is in check,” Anatoly insisted, his jaw clenching and his hand so tight on the phone it was a wonder the screen didn’t crack. “What do you want from me?”
“Oh, that’s simple. As I said, I want to set the record straight. Miss Boone’s arrest was botched by the police and credit was given to a low life for my years of hard work.” The voice, that had sounded almost bored until now, finally revealed a trace of irritation. “Is that enough for you to follow or must I spell it out for you more completely?”
Anatoly shook his head even though the speaker couldn’t see him. “I understand. You are serial killer,” he said with disdain. “You are the vampire we have been hunting.”
“Precisely, yes.” Pleasure dripped from the voice now. “Everett Reed at your service, Mr. Brusilev.”
He scoffed at that, exchanging a glance with Markov who was still watching the exchange with mild interest. “If you are truly at service, then release Maggie and I promise not to end you.”
Reed laughed at that, his voice rich with mirth as it cackled through the cellphone. “As a former priest I expected more decorum and less violence. You must truly care for this woman.” He said it mockingly.
Anatoly only growled, feeling on the verge of losing his temper again. He didn’t like being mocked, didn’t like the reality that Maggie was scared and alone and he could do nothing to comfort her. He had vowed never to let her go through hardship alone again, and he felt as though he were letting her down. It settled a pit in his stomach that was firmly lodged into place.
“If you want her back, Mr. Brusilev, then you will do as I say,” Reed was speaking again. “Is that clear?”
