Chapter 17: Apology Not Accepted
Jack Wayne was still going over his pre-flight checklist when Fenton and Joe Hardy pulled up in his graveled parking lot. He waved to them from the cockpit window of his Cessna and continued to make his preparations for the flight to New Orleans.
"How long until we're ready to go?" Fenton asked as Jack popped the latch for the external luggage compartment on the small plane.
"Nice to see you too Fen." Said Jack without looking up from the instrument panel.
"Sorry Jack. Got a lot on my mind."
"I'm just messin' with you." The veteran pilot said as he checked the last few gauges on his list before signing off at the bottom of his clipboard. "About thirty minutes I'd say. I want to make sure I have everything locked up good before we leave since Judy's already gone for the day."
"Well thanks for taking us on such short notice. Joe tried to get us a commercial flight, but with the tropical storm rolling up the coast causing such long delays and layovers…"
"Say no more, I'm always happy to help a friend."
The sound of a diesel truck engine made Jack turn his head toward the parking lot. Phil got out and waved to Buddy who backed up and drove off.
"Is that the rest of your party?"
"Yes. I don't know if you've met, but that's Frank's fiancée."
"Er, yeah… Don't know if anyone's told you Fen, but your son has horrible taste in women." Fenton and Joe gave Jack a searing look but the pilot held up his hands in defense. "Joking, joking!"
"Dad! Why did you call Phil?" Joe asked his father in a hushed tone. It was to Joe's understanding that Frank had wanted Phil safe and tucked away in Bayport while he was at the convention. Knowing the overprotective fiancée would have dropped everything help with the search, Joe had felt it would be safer if he contacted Phil after he got to New Orleans and at least had some new information to give him. But the look on Phil's face when he spotted Joe told the younger Hardy that his good intentions had been grievously misguided.
"Phil said he wanted to help. And with his hacking skills, we can use all the help we can get!" Fenton defended as Phil approached with his suitcase and messenger bag.
"By-the-book Fenton Hardy enlisting the skills of a hacker?" Jack questioned Fenton.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures." Mr. Hardy said gravely then he turned to greet his future son-in-law.
"Thanks for letting me ride with you Mr. Hardy." Phil said while Fenton lifted the bags into the compartment.
"I've told you, call me Fenton. And thank you for offering to help. You can go ahead and board and get comfortable."
"Okay." Phil turned and glared at Joe before climbing into the plane. Joe followed him in and sat adjacent to him.
"Look Phil, I didn't call you because I thought Frank wanted you to stay safe! Frank told me when he was on the train that you were staying with Buddy out at the farm because of some lone wolf." Joe hissed quickly.
"That's all Frank told you?" Phil said, his stern look never wavering.
"Yes."
Phil sighed. He looked out of the window to see Fenton following Jack into the hangar, maybe he could explain quickly before the detective and pilot came back.
"It wasn't just any rogue Were. Some bastard call "The Nose", he's vicious and thinks mighty highly of himself from what I understand. He killed Stanley Wood's grandfather years ago in broad daylight. So he's not welcome to hunt in the wooded areas surrounding Bayport and out in the county. We weren't sure which of us he was targeting…"
"Wait, this is going to sound harsh, but why would a werewolf be after you?"
"Because of Eric. Amy thinks that as long as I'm alive Eric will see me as a threat."
"How… How does Eric figure in with this Were?"
"Biff followed the tracking software I put on his phone, it led him to the French Market and he not only found Frank's bracelet, but the old one as well." Phil could see Joe paling as he sat there listening. "I checked the tracking history on the old one, it's been all over the place, but the most damning thing is that it went down to Louisiana, then back to New York. The bracelet was in the area the same night Biff, Amy and Ezekiel found that tuft of werewolf hair belonging to The Nose. Amy thinks since her vow of protection prevents Eric from approaching Frank, that he may have asked another party to bring Frank to him."
Joe sat in silence running a hand through his hair as he processed this new information.
"He didn't bother to tell me any of this."
"Joe, I think he…"
"I know, I know. He just wanted to protect me."
…..
"Amy?"
The vampire's eyes flew open as the warm breath and quiet voice reached her ear. Amy sat up bolt straight in the bed and turned in the direction of the voice.
"Allen, what has happened?" She could tell just by the slight tremor in his voice and his pounding heart that something was not right.
"It's Frank…" Amy threw the covers back and went to the closet to get out a change of clothes.
"Keep talking!" Amy spat as she headed to her bathroom and turned on the water for a shower.
"He went on to breakfast this morning, I was still… tired… from last night, so I was going to meet up with him later…"
"You fell asleep, he left without you. You cannot lie to me Allen, I can hear your heart pound faster when you do." She called from under the running shower.
Biff continued with his story as Amy finished up in the bathroom and returned to the bedroom, naked as the day she was born. Biff turned his head away shyly but she ignored him and dressed. She glanced at the clock and stopped midway of fastening her bra.
"It is still daylight."
"Joe, Phil and Frank's dad will be here soon and I needed to wake you up to meet them. And Mr. Hardy doesn't know you're a vampire."
"Of course he does not. He will soon."
"Ugh!" Biff flopped back onto the bed, exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally. Losing Frank, telling Joe, running around the French Quarter with detectives he hardly knew, breaking the news to Phil, and knowing that in a matter of hours Fenton Hardy was going to become aware of a world he would never in his wildest dreams imagine could really exist.
"Shh… Slow down your breathing, you are going to hyperventilate if you continue." Amy sat next to Biff's head and ran her cool fingers through his short hair.
"This is my fault Amy." She did not try to correct him. The entire point of their accompanying Frank to the convention was to stay alert and keep him safe.
"I am to blame too. I kept you from getting your rest so that you could go with him. We have both failed Frank." Biff winced at the truth of the statement. "But Frank is not entirely innocent in this. He should have not trekked out alone."
"He's a bit hard headed if you hadn't noticed already." Biff fought to keep his eyes open, but they grew heavier as he was soothed by the soft fingers massaging his scalp.
"True. And we could look back and pass around the blame all day. But ultimately the fault lies with those who took him." Amy got up and turned off the bedside light that Biff had turned on while she was still sleeping. "Rest now Allen. We have a busy night ahead of us."
…..
Mozelle Ledet went about the rest of her work day smiling easily at the customers who entered La Fleur Minérale for custom blended fragrances, soaps and lotions. On the outside she was the embodiment of southern hospitality with "Sugar" and "Ya'll", and an intimate confidant, telling her patrons "Honey, just a little of this on your pulse points will drive your man wild!" followed by a sly wink. On the inside the woman's nerves were strung tighter than a tick on a beagle.
Emile was as smooth as a snake charmer with his French accent and genteel ways. Mozelle had her talents as a witch and had inherited her father's trait as a shape-shifter. Together, they had pulled off many a scam as a side business to the perfume shop. Professionally, Emile had an exquisite talent for pairing essences and oils into exotic combinations, he definitely earned his nickname. Mozelle had her education in science and training in brewing potions to create the intoxicating perfumes their customers desired.
They were a good fit as business partners. Of course over time that partnership extended to the bedroom, but Mozelle had been hurt and abused one too many times by other men to allow herself to fall in love with the charming and cunning Emile. It was just as well, because if she had fallen in love with the old wolf, she would never have been able to share him, especially with the pretty boys he had a hankering for at times. And she would never have been able to enjoy those pretty boys for herself. Yes, this was indeed a partnership with benefits.
The revelation of the circuitry inside the bracelets had put her on edge though. A young detective goes missing in a city full of detectives from all over the country… This was not one of Emile's most well thought out plans. The old fool took too much pleasure from games and setting up interesting traps. Now his newest venture was going to bite them in the butt. Yet there was so much to gain if they did manage to pull this off.
Emile returned from his dinner break and found Mozelle standing behind the counter tapping her high-heeled shoe nervously.
"What bothers you mon cher?" He asked as he placed a flirtatious hand on her bottom. The bottle-blonde huffed and turned to the man.
"You realize by morning they can put a missing person report in effect. The law could come in here asking questions again."
"Oui, so Monsieur Hardy should make a few appearances, should he not? What is that term you use sometime? Send them on a wild goose chase?" Mozelle raised a curious eyebrow as he leaned closer to her ear. "I think there is a bar in Baton Rogue that our little friend may want to visit. I hear a lot of very good looking men can be found there." Mozelle smiled, finally cottoning on to Emile's suggestion.
"I saw the way you looked him over, Emile. Tsk! Such a dirty old man." He gave her bottom a squeeze in response. "You want to tap that don't you?"
"Tap that?"
"You'll figure it out." Mozelle said as she strode to the back office.
…..
Frank opened his eyes to find himself still surrounded by utter darkness. He tried to raise his hand to rub his eyes, only to find it and his other arm heavily weighed down. A cold shiver ran through his body as the memory of that morning, the café, the disorienting walk through the square, the perfume shop, the woman who transformed before his eyes, the man with the silver hair…
When he finally managed to get his shackled feet over the side of the bed and sit up, he felt dizzy and weak. Frank felt the rough metallic cuffs on his wrists and even though he couldn't see, he'd give a good guess that they were iron. A painful moan brought his attention away from his own troubles.
"Hello?" Another moan.
"Is someone there? Are you hurt?" he called out.
"Frank?"
The voice was tremulous, yet familiar. There were notes of fear and panic. Frank stood and shuffled blindly. Frank pushed on through a darkness so black he could not see his hands in front of his face, looking for the voice's owner.
"Frank! Help me!"
"I can't see! It's too dark, keep talking!" Frank yelled out to the darkness. This felt so surreal, like he had experienced all of this before. He felt around, trying to find a wall, a light switch, anything.
"Frank, you're finally here. Oh thank G-d! I thought I'd never see you again." The voice was closer now, so he must be heading in the right direction. He could feel the texture of wallpaper under his finger tips, it was old and peeling. Finally Frank's hand ran into something hard and round. There was a button in the middle. He pressed the button and the room filled with light from the lone incandescent bulb. Frank turned from the wall, eyes squinting as he adjusted to the glaring light. When he turned to see who was in the room with him, Frank threw himself against the wall, wishing he could claw his way through and get the hell out.
Eric sat there, huddled in the corner, naked. He was marked with stripes of angry, thin, red whelps, and his eyes were black from hunger. He didn't move from his spot on the single iron post bed, except to reach out to Frank. He was loosely bound with a thin, silvery chain attached to silver studded dog collar, but it was just enough to subdue him.
"Frank, please…" Eric begged in a pained, gravelly voice.
Frank's head swam and his ears began to ring as he sank to the cold cement floor, petrified. No, how could this be? The nightmare from the other week, this was it, it was happening…
"Frank, did they hurt you?" Wide eyed, Frank began to scoot back to the protection of his own bed. Eric stood up from his bed and stumbled before getting his footing back and standing to approach Frank.
"Stay away from me! Stay the fuck away!" Frank screamed.
Eric got a little more than halfway across the room before he stopped, reaching the end of his tether. Frank began to panic when he thought of Amy's protection enchantment. Eric couldn't approach Frank, but since Frank had come near him first… Oh G-d this was bad, more than bad…He was naked and vulnerable and locked in the same room as his rapist and torturer…
"Good, you're okay…" Eric said with relief and he gave the brunette a small smile.
"Okay? Okay?" Hellfire suddenly ran through Frank's blood as he stood, enraged at the man in middle of the room. "No! I am not fucking okay you son of a bitch!"
Frank charged forward, using his waning strength to ball up his fist and struck the redheaded vampire across the face. Eric's head snapped back and Frank felt his like his hand had exploded as fire and pain shot up from his knuckles up through his arm.
"Gaaah!" Frank shouted and dropped to the floor, cradling is injured hand. Eric had stumbled back and lost his footing, landing smack on his bare ass He looked up at Frank, surprised at his former boyfriend's strength.
"How'd you… You're fortifying, aren't you?"
"Fuck off!" Frank seethed through clenched teeth.
"Frank, I didn't mean for any of this to happen. Emile, he was going to help me look for you. We had everything worked out so that you and I could be together again. And then last night, I don't know what got into him but he went nuts! Started flogging me with this silver chain-whip and then Mozelle got me from behind with the collar and chain…"
"Shut up! I don't give a rat's ass about your sex life!" Frank crawled back over to his bed and sat down, thankful Eric could not reach him there. He looked down at his hand which was rapidly swelling. Damn it! Why'd he have to lose it? Now he's added an injury to his situation. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
"Let me look and see if you broke it. If… if you're taking vampire blood, it'll heal up pretty quick, but you don't want it to heal the wrong way. I can see if I can straighten…"
"What part of shut up don't you understand?" Frank spat. He finally managed to wiggle his fingers and work his thumb, just a little, but oh damn it hurt.
"I'm sorry." Eric went back to his bed and looked at Frank. Anger bubbled up inside of Frank again.
"Not sorry enough. You have no idea, none, of what I've been through these last eight months because of you!" Frank stood on wobbly legs, still shaking with anger and pain.
"You left! Magnus was going to kill my brother! He almost killed Amy!" Frank pointed to his scarred leg. "Two surgeries! I'm still taking physical therapy! I have nightmares about what you did to me, what you took from me! And I have to take medication so that my body does not reject the fucking metal rod in my leg that will be there the rest of my life!" Frank stopped to take a breath. "And you're sorry."