PART TEN
Chloe woke with a gasp. Her eyes popped open, and she caught a glimpse of a
high, sun-speckled ceiling before the bright light forced her to close them
again.
With a soft groan, she put a hand to the back of her head. She wasn't in pain
now. Being Immortal had its advantages. There was no swollen lump for her to
feel. Her hair wasn't stiff with dried blood. But the memory of pain, still
fresh, made her grimace.
As other memories came flooding back, Chloe's heart raced. She remembered
waking up way too early for a Saturday morning. She said good-bye to her dad as
he left for Metropolis. ("Be careful," he'd said as he closed the door.) A few
minutes later, she left herself, on her way to the Kents' for that chocolate chip waffle
breakfast.
She never made it. As she opened her car door, she caught a glimpse of movement
in the driver's-side window. And, before she could react, she was hit in the
head by something hard and heavy.
Chloe wondered what she'd gotten mixed up in this time. Had one of her
investigations made someone nervous? Had she asked the wrong person the wrong
question?
Chloe's heart thudded in her chest, and the first stirrings of panic made her
stomach clench. Someone snuck up behind her and snatched her from her own
driveway. She had no idea where she was, or why she was here. There was a
chance someone knew she was missing by now. But, even if they did, they
wouldn't know where to look for her.
Oh, my God! she thought. A shiver raced up her
spine, and goose bumps prickled her skin. What if her captor was in the room
with her? They could be watching her right now!
Feeling suddenly vulnerable lying flat on her back with her eyes shut, she
quickly sat up. Her frantic, too-wide gaze took stock of her surroundings in an
instant. She was in some kind of storage room. Or a room
being used for storage. It was filled with old desks, boxes, chairs. A
broom stood in the corner, a dirty sheet and some empty paint cans right next
to it. Windows at two of the four walls flooded the room with sunlight.
In the next instant, she realized she wasn't. But the room's other
occupant wasn't some thug-type with a menacing scar, towering over her as he
waved a gun in her face. He was lying a few yards away, in a position similar
to the one she'd been in. And he was very familiar.
"Oh, my God," Chloe gasped. "Lex!"
*****
Someone was shaking him.
Lex frowned, displeased that his sleep had been disturbed. He wanted to push
the intrusive hands away, but he couldn't. His body felt heavy, his arms and
legs weighted down. His mind felt sluggish, unusual since he usually woke fully
alert. Or, at least, closer to it than this.
"Lex?" a voice called. It sounded faint, muffled and far away. "Lex?"
Lex turned his head towards the voice, and a shaft of pain shot through his
head. It was so sharp, so intense, he couldn't stop
the soft moan that escaped his lips.
"Lex!" The voice was excited now. "Can you hear me?"
Teeth gritted, Lex waited for the pain to pass. As it faded into a dull, faint
ache, so did some of the cobwebs that clouded his mind. As he became more
alert, he realized he was lying on something hard, unyielding. It lacked the
soft luxury of his bed.
"Lex! Are you awake?"
And, suddenly, the voice was too loud. Wincing, Lex took a deep breath. Seconds
later, he forced his eyes open. There was someone leaning over him. At first
they were a blur, and all he could really make out was a mass of golden blond
hair. But, slowly, the figure came into focus.
"Chloe?" he said, his voice hoarse and thick. Waking to find Chloe Sullivan
staring down at him was not what he'd expected.
The young woman in question let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God! I've been
trying to wake you up for at least five minutes."
And Lex realized this wasn't his bedroom. He was lying on the floor, in a room
he'd never seen before.
"Where are we?" he asked, his voice thick and hoarse.
"I have no idea." Chloe looked around the room. "I'm guessing it's an abandoned
office building. Maybe an old factory or warehouse."
Lex frowned. "And how did we get here?"
"I don't know that either. I just woke up myself. And, before you ask, I
haven't seen our hosts, either. So, I'm as much in the dark as you are."
Lex studied her with sharp blue eyes. He saw fear in her eyes, but not as much
as he'd expect. Then again, she'd been abducted almost as many times as he had.
She also seemed to be in better condition than he was. Maybe she'd escaped the
conk on the head he'd been subjected to. So, how had she been subdued. Chloroform, perhaps?
Lex sighed. Exasperated by the lack of information, he closed his eyes. Even in
his current state—with his thoughts fuzzy around the edges—his brain couldn't
be still. His mind sifted, searched, tried to find the pieces and figure out
the puzzle. And, when he looked in one dark corners of his memory, it all came
flooding back.
The flat tire. Reaching into the
trunk for the spare. Then, pain and darkness.
"Damn it," Lex softly cursed. Not again?
"Yep, it looks like we've been kidnapped," Chloe agreed, almost as if she'd
read his mind.
Lex shook his head, and felt another stab of pain. He could think of several
reasons why he might be kidnapped. Money was the most obvious, of course.
(Although anyone who expected Lionel Luthor to pay any kind of a ransom to get
his son back, they were in for a rude awakening.) And there was always revenge.
Both Luthors had their share of enemies. Angry business rivals. Disgruntled employees. Dissatisfied
allies.
But none of those options explained what Chloe was doing here.
"How do you feel?" the young woman asked.
"Fine," Lex replied as he tried to sit up. The faint, dull headache became an
insistent throbbing.
"Hey, don't move!" Chloe commanded. She placed her hands on his shoulders. "We
don't know how badly you're hurt."
Moaning softly, Lex allowed himself to be pushed back down. It felt like there
was a weight pressing against his skull, pounding against his temples.
Nodding with satisfaction, Chloe sat back on her heels. "I was just about to
look for a way out of…"
She was interrupted by a noise, a clattering sound coming from the door.
Lips pressed into a grim line, Lex pushed up onto his elbows. Before Chloe
could push him back down again, he said, "Help me stand up."
"What?" the young reporter frowned. "No! You're…"
"Help me up," Lex repeated, his voice soft but firm. It they were about to come
face-to-face with their kidnappers, he didn't want to do it from a position of
vulnerability. Of weakness.
Maybe she could read his mind. Chloe stared at him for one long moment.
Then, as understanding lit her eyes, she took his arm and helped him stagger to
his feet.
Lex's head pounded. He felt dizzy. Nausea assaulted his stomach. But he
clenched his teeth, balled his hand into fists, and forced himself to stand
tall and steady. To appear strong, in control.
The room held its breath as the door swung open. The man who stepped through it
wasn't what Lex expected.
Their captor was young, about mid-20s. He was tall, and had the build of
someone who worked out. His sandy blond hair had a stylish, trendy cut. His clothes, were well made, top of the line. He was handsome,
except for a slightly pouty sneer. And Lex suspected the hand holding the gun
sported a professional manicured.
Without giving it a thought, Lex stepped forward and to the side, so that Chloe
was partially hidden behind him.
"Well, look at you!" A small, mean-spirited smile twisted their captor's lips. "All gallant and chivalrous." He shook his head in mock
surprise. "Who knew you had it in you?"
A knot of anger took shape in Lex's chest. It urged him to cross the room and
wipe the smile off of that handsome, pouty face. But he'd learned well how to
control his emotions. Control your emotions, and you could control almost any
situation.
"Who are you?" Lex asked, his voice calm. "And what do
you want?"
Their abductor ignored the question. "I'm glad you're both awake already. I
wasn't sure you would be."
"You know, your concern is sweet, and all," Chloe said. Her voice dripped with
sarcasm. "But I'd really like to know why I'm here."
Looking away from Lex for the first time, the kidnapper glanced at Chloe.
"Well, to tell the truth, you were kind of a whim. I saw you and this guy
chatting it up at that coffee house, and I got this great idea." Leaning
forward, he grinned a little. "Don't worry. I'll explain later."
Lex didn't have to look to know Chloe was pissed.
Eyes narrowed, Lex sized up the slightly older man. There was anger there, just
beneath the cruel smiles and taunting humor. Anger so intense, the other man
almost seemed to vibrate with it. And, just like that, Lex knew this wasn't
about a ransom. This was personal.
Only, Lex also knew he'd never laid eyes on the man before.
Lex took a sudden step forward. Startled, the kidnapper took a quick step back,
eyes widening a fraction. The gun raised a few inches
higher. Lex forced himself not to flinch as he looked down the barrel.
"Who are you?" Lex asked again, his voice demanding an answer.
All signs of humor were gone now. The taunting smile was replaced by anger. The
eyes glaring at Lex burned with hatred.
"My name is Steven Blakewell. And you're going to pay for killing my sister."
(TO BE CONTINUED)
