Author's notes: Thank you to those that reviewed the first chapter. I hope you'll continue to enjoy this bit of Halloween fancy.
Mirella - I agree, Danny and Martin are the best FBI pair ever and I'm glad you're enjoying the way I've protrayed them. I'll be adding a new chapter each week until the story is finished.
Cathy - I'm glad to hear that posting here makes it easier for you to find my stories. I'm not sure about a sequel . . . that might have to wait until next Halloween.
There was just something incredibly wrong about being tired out by an elevator ride. Damning his pride, Danny leaned back against the elevator wall and bit his lip to suppress a yawn. So much for his plans to jump into the investigation of Ryan's disappearance, at this rate he'd be lucky to make it down the hall to his apartment without passing out. Beside him, Martin was trying to look like he wasn't watching Danny, even though he obviously was. The exhausting trip home from the hospital hadn't ended Jack's insistence that Danny needed to be protected, at least until his attackers had been identified. An hour ago, he'd found Jack's assumption that he couldn't protect himself, a stinging insult. Now he was more than ready to swallow the hurt feelings if it meant getting to lay his head down somewhere. Dr. Hyde's warning that the blood loss would continue to make him tired was starting to look like the biggest underestimation ever made. When they reach the right floor, it took all of Danny's energy just to set one foot in front of the other. He didn't realize Martin had stopped until he stumbled into his back.
Suddenly Martin was grabbing his arm and pushing him protectively back against the wall. Martin pulled his gun; aiming at Danny's door with one hand while retrieving his cell phone with the other. Even with all those clues it still took Danny's muddled mind precious seconds to realize what was wrong. His apartment door was open. Not all of the way, just enough to make it obvious that someone had accessed it since last night.
"Jack, where are you?" demanded Martin in a harsh whisper. "Someone's been in Danny's apartment. They left the door open." There was a momentary pause. "Understood." Martin quietly folded the cell and slipped it into his pocket.
"Waiting for back-up?" guessed Danny, now that the adrenalin rush had woke him up. He knew that Jack probably wasn't too far away, since he'd promised to pick up Danny's abandoned car and bring it over. That Danny had lost his keys along with his memory didn't seem alter Jack's decision. Martin nodded to Danny's question, never shifting his aim from Danny's door. Several tense seconds passed. "It doesn't sound like anyone is in there," Danny whispered.
"They had plenty of time to come and go last night or this morning," agreed Martin, not relaxing in the least. "Still, Jack will be here in five minutes."
Just under four minutes later, the elevator chimed and Jack stepped out, his gun at the ready. Moving up alongside Danny, he nailed his subordinate with a sharp look. "Stay behind us!" Danny wasn't even inclined to argue. The adrenalin pulse of a few moments before was already fading.
Jack and Martin moved forward together, Jack opening the door while Martin stepped in to clear the room. It took them just moments to search the modest apartment for intruders. Finding none they walked back to the living room where Danny waited.
He barely noticed their return, his gaze locked on a round end table and the things it held. Danny's missing gun holster with his badge still clipped on. His keys anchored a piece of paper beside it.
"Let me," insisted Martin when Danny moved to pick up the note. Martin slipped on a pair of white gloves used to gather evidence. Picking up the paper he shot a hesitant look towards Danny as he started to read. "Daniel, You left these behind during your hasty exit last night. I've returned them to show that I harbor no ill will regarding your inappropriate behavior. In truth, I found your heroics to be delightfully entertaining. Rest assured, we'll be coming to reclaim you just as soon as Ryan has learned his place. I hope you're looking forward to our reunion as much as I. Eternal regards, Elizabeth."
"Okay, Danny you need to pack a bag so we can get out of here. You'll want enough for several days," ordered Jack.
"What?" Danny was still trying to absorb the letter and is ramifications.
"You can't stay here," Jack spelled it out. "She knows where you live and she had plenty of time to make duplicates of those keys. We need to move you to a safe house, right now." Jack grabbed Danny's arm and directed him to the bedroom. Over his shoulder he ordered Martin, "Get our lab people over here, they need to check everything."
Samantha tossed the printout back on her desk. Frustration had become a familiar companion to the FBI's Missing Persons Unit. In the three days since Danny's attack, their team had vigorously pursued every viable, as well as a few not so viable, leads. Yet they were no closer to finding Ryan Saluke or his kidnappers. That the Special Victims Unit seemed to be hitting the same dead ends on their related case was no consolation. Most of their potential witnesses were too afraid to speak about 'Elizabeth', though few could articulate why the mysterious redhead terrified them so. They wouldn't even know her last name if not for Harold Pembroke, the lone witness willing to volunteer information on their suspect. Martin had taken an unusual dislike to the man, but even he couldn't deny that everything Pembroke stated had panned out.
"So you saw two men and two women helping these men," Samantha slid photos of Danny and Ryan across the interrogation room table, "into a van?"
"Yeah, that was them. Though helping probably isn't the right word. Neither of these boys looked like they could stand on their own, they were practically being carried. I should have realized something was up when I saw Elizabeth was with them."
"And how do you know Elizabeth," demanded Martin sharply.
"I've known her for years. Back when she used to go by the name of Hastate, before she changed it to Bathory." Harold didn't seem offended by Martin's manor.
"She changed her name to Elizabeth Bathory, as in the Hungarian Countess who was walled up in her own chambers for torturing and killing as many as 600 girls, so she could drink and bathe in their blood?" asked Martin incredulously.
"So you've heard of her too. Even when she was still Lizzie Hastate she was never quite right in the head. Then a couple of years ago she decided that she was really Bathory reincarnated, and it was time to pick up where she had left off. I guess she's given up on girls and moved on to larger prey." Harold shook his head in distaste. "She's one nut job I'd definitely prefer to steer clear of."
"You do that, Mr. Pembroke. It will be better for everyone if you stay out of our way." Martin ignored the look Samantha shot him. Something about Pembroke set every one of his nerves on edge.
Samantha pulled copies of the two sketches Officer Verna had drawn of Danny's attackers. "Were these the men you saw with Ms. Bathory?"
Harold studied the drawings for a few seconds. "I don't recognize this guy," he said of the full sketch, then he tapped the partial image, "But this fellow is a Romanian that goes by the name of Petru. The woman that was with them is Lateesha Abyad. She's been following Elizabeth around for years."
"Do you know where we could find Ms. Bathory and her friends?" asked Samantha.
"Hell, I didn't even know she'd returned from Montreal until I saw her the other night. I suppose you could look at her father's old properties. I'd heard she inherited them when he died," offered Harold. "Not to be rude, but is this going to take much longer? I've got a business to run."
"I think we're finished for now. Thank you for coming in Mr. Pembroke. You've been very helpful," Samantha shook his hand.
When the same hand was offered to Martin he pointedly ignored it. "I'll have an agent escort you out of the building." Then he signaled to the agent waiting outside the door.
Once Pembroke was gone Samantha had to ask, "What were you doing antagonizing our only helpful witness."
"Pembroke wasn't giving us that information just to be a good citizen. He was playing us somehow, I know it," insisted Martin. Samantha just shook her head at Martin's sudden paranoia and left the room.
Verifying Harold's information told them that 'Elizabeth Bathory' had been born Elizabeth Hastate right here in New York, forty seven years ago. Sam was wondering what kind of surgery she'd undergone since she looked at least fifteen years younger than that. About sixteen years ago she'd taken up residence in Hungary and changed her name. She became something of a nomad, never staying in any one country for more than year. Speaking to the various law enforcement agencies of the countries she'd visited brought a familiar litany of suspicion. She was known to practice some heavy duty S&M, and was suspected to be involved in drugs. She was also the common denominator in dozens of missing persons cases spanning eight different countries. Samantha wasn't sure what had prompted Bathory to return to New York, she just wished the woman had left Danny out of her sick games.
Danny had returned to work the second day after his attack. On the surface he seemed to be bouncing back quickly. Jack had vetoed any fieldwork, so Danny had thrown himself into research, learning everything he could about the seventy-odd properties that Bathory had inherited from her father. Each hour that passed with no word on Ryan Saluke seemed to wear on Danny. He was also chafing at the protective custody Jack had set up. It was easy enough to ignore at work, but Danny hadn't liked staying at the safe house, which was really an apartment in China Town, or the forced quality time with his coworkers.
Elena was with him at the apartment right now. The two had left work about three hours ago, after Danny had knocked a chair over in frustration at yet another dead end. Fearing one of the computers might be next, Jack had ordered Danny to leave, get some food and try to relax. Martin had called in a little while ago to report that the search of yet another of Bathory's properties had turn up no new leads. Hearing about Danny's mini-meltdown, he'd decided to head straight to the apartment to relieve Elena, so she could have at least a little time with her daughter before putting her to bed.
"Hey, Samantha," called Vivian from her own desk. "Are you having any luck with the phone records?"
"No, I can't find a phone, not a land line or cell, listed in her name. I've been trying to check phones connected to her properties, but with so many it's like looking for a needle in a haystack," admitted Sam.
"Well, I finally got her financials for the last couple of days. There aren't any store purchases that we can track her with, but she has been withdrawing sizable amounts of cash from several ATMs in the TriBeCa area," shared Vivian.
"The alley where Danny was found was in TriBeCa," remembered Samantha.
"Do we know how many of Bathory's properties are in the same area?" asked Vivian.
Samantha walked over to Martin's desk. A map of Manhattan was cluttered with colorful stickpins, but Sam was only interested in the ones stuck in TriBeCa. "There are eleven properties that Bathory either owns or has a financial interest in. The two closest to the alley were checked by Martin today, which leaves nine strong possibilities." A small wave of relief lifted Samantha's spirits a bit. Finally, they seemed to be on to something.
"Let's start focusing on those nine," suggested Vivian. "I'll update Jack."
Martin parked his car along the curb, waiting for traffic to clear before trying to exit. Moving up the stairs to the apartment building, he passed two police officers. Getting an idea, he made an about face and approached the officers. "Hang on guys. Have you got a minute?"
The officers stopped. The veteran female looked inquiringly at Martin, while the younger black male regarded him with mild suspicion.
Martin pulled out his credentials. "If you've got the time, I was hoping you could help me out with something?" When there were no immediate objections Martin pressed on in a quieter done. "I've got a partner upstairs, who's on his third day of being in protective custody. He's going stir crazy, and I wanted to smuggle him out to the gym for an hour or two. The problem is if the other agent upstairs shadows us there, she's going to miss tucking her daughter into bed for the third night in a row. If there's any way you could just follow us there?" Martin entreated.
The younger man's suspicion had eased as Martin spoke. The veteran asked, "Are you planning to take him to Shamansky's?" It was a favorite gym with many in law enforcement.
"Yeah, I thought giving him a little time on a bag might prevent him from putting his fist through a wall," explained Martin. "He's just up on the fourth floor. I can be back down here with him in maybe five minutes."
"You've got your escort then," agreed the veteran. "Assuming we don't get other orders before you get back down here."
A grin lit Martin's face. "Thanks. I'll be back before you know it." He was jogging up the stairs before he'd finished speaking. The younger officer leaned back against the patrol car to wait. Three minutes had passed when gunfire erupted from within the building, one bullet breaking through a window.
"Shots fired at Remington Apartments, fourth floor. Requesting immediate backup. FBI agents may be involved," radioed the veteran as she and her partner raced to help.
"So what's that song you keep humming?" asked Danny. Once he'd settled down a bit Danny had to admit, if only to himself, that he'd been acting like a jerk today. Ryan's case was looking more and more hopeless. On top of that Danny could barely think through the guilt of having left Ryan behind, which is what had to have happened even if Martin didn't think so. Still, none of that was the team's fault. Well, Jack could be blamed for insisting upon the smothering protection. But it wasn't fair to make the rest of the team suffer for Jack's decision.
"Humming?" Elena hadn't even realized that she'd been doing it.
"Yeah, something like . . ." Danny did his best imitation of the tune Elena seemed to have stuck in her head.
Elena looked a tad embarrassed when she recognized the song. "My daughter has a small part in the school play. She's so excited she keeps singing her solo over and over again. 'I'm the littlest pumpkin in the patch, but I'm proud of what I am.'"
Danny chuckled, "I suppose there are worse things to get stuck in your head. When is the play?"
"A week from Friday," replied Elena. "My mother was supposed to finish her costume today, so I'll likely get a preview of the performance when I get home."
"Sounds cute. At least you'll be getting some entertainment tonight." Danny winced at the bitter undertone in his own words.
"I don't think I'll be the only one," countered Elena. "Martin said he had something planned for tonight, when he called earlier."
"Probably greasy cheese burgers and cold fries," discounted Danny. "Martin has no concept of good food."
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. "Speak of the Devil. Maybe you can start his culinary lessons," she teased.
"Right," dismissed Danny, looking back at the files he'd insisted on bringing from the office. He didn't notice Elena check the door's peephole, or see her try to step back and pull her gun.
Elena barely got out a warning, "Danny!" before the apartment door slammed into her knocking her into the wall.
Danny was on his feet and diving for the gun he'd left on the counter even before he identified the men he'd struggled with in the alley. A flying tackle knocked him to the floor before he could reach his weapon. Danny struggled against the weight pinning him to the floor. His whole body bucked, knocking the attacker off him. The respite was short lived as a booted foot kicked him in the side repeatedly until he collapsed in agony. Feeling someone grasp his arms and pull them behind him, Danny tried to flip over and dislodge his assailant. His adversary was unfazed by this, twisting Danny's arms until the pain screamed through him, forcing him to stop his struggles. Danny sucked in deep breaths of air to replace the oxygen already spent in the fight. Even that was used against him as a gag was shoved into his open mouth. He shook his head to little effect. Just like everything else of late, his efforts fell short. A thin band around his wrists and a familiar zip told him that he'd just been bound with plastic ties.
One of the men from the alley roughly pulled Danny to his feet, turning him about to face the rest of his captors. Three of them were men, including the one still holding his arm, hadn't Sam said his name was Petru? One of the other two was the other man from the alley but the third man Danny didn't recognize. There were also two women. A beautiful and coolly sophisticated redhead that Danny just knew was Ryan's 'Queen Hell Bitch' Elizabeth; and a tall, dusky skinned woman that hovered at her Elizabeth's elbow. Danny's eyes continued to search the room until they landed on Elena's form slumped on the floor near the now closed front door.
"Surprised to see me? Surely you didn't think I'd forget about you. After all, it's not every day a girl like me gets to meet a genuine hero." Elizabeth let her fingers trail possessively across Danny's chest, and then they darted to his forehead, her touch bringing a sting. "Looks like you have a bit of a scratch." Elizabeth showed Danny the small smudge of blood on her fingertips. Seconds later the fingertips entered her mouth where she sucked the blood away like it was melted chocolate.
"My lady," spoke up the man Danny didn't recognize. "What do you want to do with this one?" he asked as he knelt down next to Elena. "Kill her, leave her or bring her along?" The man lifted Elena's head by her hair revealing a bruised temple and a split lip. "You have to admit she looks like she'd make a tasty morsel," encouraged the man, one hand snaking down to grope Elena's breasts.
Danny reflexively jerked against his restraints, cursing though his gag. Not that it helped Elena any. Looking at Danny, Elizabeth smiled again. "Buckingham, you are such a predictable hedonist, but in this case I think you're right. I do believe our new friend would be quite upset if we left the girl behind. Make sure she doesn't wake up and move her down to our van."
Buckingham pulled a syringe out of his pocket, injecting Elena with its contents. Danny's hopes dwindled. Elena likely already had a concussion; God only knew how the poison they were injecting her with would complicate things. She might never wake up. Buckingham then slung Elena's limp body over his shoulder and carried her out the door.
Elizabeth placed her hand on Danny's chin, forcing him to turn away from the door Elena had disappeared through with a surprisingly strong grip. "How much she suffers depends entirely upon you. Give me what I want, Daniel, and I'll let her go," she promised.
The gag prevented him from calling her the liar he knew she was, but the rage in his eyes easily telegraphed his distrust.
The low hum of a vibrating cell interrupted Elizabeth's lies. "Yes? Really? Allow him up." Closing the cell Elizabeth smiled at Danny again. "If you won't cooperate for Elena's sake, perhaps you will for Martin's."
She may have well have punched Danny in the gut. He barely noticed being forced to his knees, but he couldn't ignore the blade Elizabeth placed at his neck, as Petru and the other man from the alley moved close to the door to ambush Martin. Danny sought frantically for some way to give a warning. Elena was already captured because of him; he couldn't let it happen to Martin too. The blade at his throat cut the skin, as Elizabeth seemed to read his intentions. Not that it mattered. Even without the blade he couldn't shout a warning, bound and gagged as he was. The utter silence in the room made it easy to hear the distant ping of the elevator, and the steady footfalls coming ever closer. In desperation Danny threw his whole body to the side. The painful sting in his neck was worth it when he heard the satisfying shatter of the two glasses that fell off the end table.
Elizabeth yanked Danny back under control. Her hands threading through his hair to pull his head back so he was forced to look up at her. The blade was once again at his neck, this time sitting on his jugular. "Sooner or later you will stop fighting me, hero," she vowed.
For the second time the front door crashed in. "FBI! Drop your weapons and surrender!" Hearing Martin's voice brought a mixture of hope and fear. The noise had been enough to let Martin know there was trouble, but Martin's quick response told him that Martin hadn't called for backup.
The man from the alley rushed at Martin and promptly received two bullets for his trouble. Petru came at Martin from his other side before he could adjust his aim. As the two struggled for control of the gun it went off again shooting through the ceiling into the apartment above. Martin fought with everything he had, but Petru was slowly gaining the edge in their battle. Slammed into the wall, Martin lost his footing. It was enough for Petru to swing Martin into the counter, hammering his wrists into the edge with numbing impact. The third such blow was followed by the clatter of a falling gun. Martin was quick enough to kick the gun out of Petru's reach, but Petru was more interested in immobilizing Martin. Within seconds the FBI agent was on his stomach being secured by his own handcuffs.
Pulled up to his knees, Martin quickly locked eyes with Danny. Danny was bound and gagged, the blood on his face and neck telling of the struggle he'd given. Danny's eyes seemed to be apologizing to Martin for their circumstances, but Martin couldn't afford the time it would take to reassure Danny, especially when he didn't know how this would end. Elena was conspicuously missing, but even concerns for her had to wait. The only option left to Martin was to stall for time. "Your friend's going to bleed to death if you don't get him to a hospital soon." Martin nodded at the attacker he'd shot.
"An excellent point, Martin," replied Elizabeth agreeably. "Lateesha, would you help Carl down to the van?" The silent, slender woman that had melded into the shadows stepped forward, picking up Carl like he was nothing more than a jug of milk. "Do you have any other helpful suggestions?"
"Yeah, I suggest you surrender. The police are already on the premises," Martin warned. Elizabeth chuckled and hoisted Danny to his feet before shoving him carelessly into Petru's waiting arms. Petru turned the battered agent around and forced him down next to Martin. Martin offered what support he could as Danny listed against him. "Are you alright, man?" Danny nodded weakly, his eyes swimming with guilt. Martin knew that Danny felt responsible for not finding Ryan yet. It looked as though he now felt responsible for Martin and probably whatever had happened to Elena, too. "This isn't your fault," Martin tried to convince his friend. "The only one responsible for what's happening is the 'Hell Bitch'," swore Martin.
"Such defiance, you're just like Daniel." Elizabeth strolled calmly across the floor to bend over Martin. "Even if the police are in the building right now, there is no way for them to reach us," she declared. Elizabeth crouched down to examine Martin more closely. She reached out to caress Martin's cheek and gasped in surprise. "More alike than I realized," she murmured to herself, taking Martin's jaw in an iron grip, she stared into his eyes.
"Elizabeth? What's wrong, my Lady?" The silent muscleman, Petru spoke for the first time, his Romanian accent clear to Martin.
"Can't you feel it?" demanded Elizabeth. "Martin is Chosen just like Daniel. They both are! This is no coincidence; this is destiny. I see what I'm meant to do now." Elizabeth's eyes took on a fervent glow. "Fate has gifted me with their transformation. And transform them I will; into the most glorious creatures this world has ever seen."
Martin had no idea what Elizabeth meant by transform, but he was starting to understand why this woman had been haunting Danny's nightmares since the night he was first taken. He was absolutely certain that he and Danny didn't want to be 'transformed' into anything that Elizabeth would consider glorious. "You're insane."
"Perhaps," conceded Elizabeth, "But soon enough you'll be begging to join me in my insanity." Elizabeth took Martin's mouth in a brutal kiss. When he refused to part his lips beneath her assault she bit, tearing his lower lip. Pulling back she licked his blood off her lips with a seductive smile. "Until you're ready, I think it's best if you slept."
Danny began to struggle beside him. Martin realized why when he saw the syringes. The jab in his arm was followed almost immediately by fuzzy vision and a weakness invading his limbs, seconds later the world drifted away.