Dead By Nightfall by Beverly Barton Read Free Book Online Page B

Nic could rule out being in Mexico or Central America? Yes? No? Maybe? Not necessarily?
    Because she suspected that Lina’s native tongue was a bastardized version of other languages, Nic’s gut instinct told her that she was in the Caribbean, on one of the islands where some type of either French patois or Creole Papia-mento was spoken. Then again, Lina could have been transported from her original home and might even be a captive forced into servitude.
    Did it really matter where she was? For all she knew, they could be on an uncharted, private island or in the jungles of Central America somewhere. Her suppositions could be wrong. Besides, what made her think she would ever get the chance to talk to Griff and manage to send him a coded message concerning her whereabouts?
     
    “Raphael ... my sweet boy ...” Yvette murmured the words in her half-awake, half-asleep state.
    She sensed his presence as if he were nearby, close enough to reach out and touch him. But he wasn’t there beside her. She had dreamed about him, her dream a memory of long ago. Choosing not to open her eyes, she allowed the image of his face to appear inside her thoughts, the face of an angelic boy, the face of a teenage Raphael, not the transformed face of the twenty-year-old who had emerged from the London hospital.
    If only we could have done more to help you. We offered to take you with us, but you refused. We knew what you intended to do and neither Griff nor Sanders nor I tried to stop you. Would it have done any good if we had tried harder?
    The first time she had held the frightened boy in her arms, she had known how pure and sweet and innocent he was. She had felt the goodness inside him, the gentle spirit that struggled to stay alive, and the kind heart that refused to die despite the torment he endured every day. He had tried to be strong and brave, to show no fear and survive without losing his own humanity.
    In the beginning, he had been unable to hide his thoughts and feelings from her, his very soul an open book, easily read. And from the very beginning, she had not told Malcolm the complete truth about Raphael, knowing the truth would help her husband destroy the boy. In time Malcolm had become obsessed with Raphael and took particular pleasure in torturing him. His physical beauty lured two of Malcolm’s frequent guests on Amara to ask specifically for Raphael whenever they visited, men who preferred boys in their teens to adult males or females of any age.
    Why are you tormenting me, Rafe?
    In her heart, Yvette knew that Raphael no longer existed. Although his body had survived and escaped, his heart and soul had died on Amara. Rafe Byrne existed, out there somewhere, a man on a mission, a heartless, soulless creature.
    Yvette opened her eyes to see a concerned Blythe Renshaw hovering over her. Blythe, sparkling with an effervescent loveliness that went beyond her physical appearance to encompass every aspect of her being, smiled warmly when she saw that Yvette was awake.
    “How do you feel?” Blythe asked.
    “Tired. But that is quite normal.” She held out her hand. “Please, help me to sit up.”
    Blythe grasped Yvette’s hand and assisted her. “Are you hungry? Ms. Hughes said to let her know when you woke up and she’d bring something for you.”
    Slightly woozy, Yvette gripped the edge of the mattress as she slid her legs around and settled both feet on the floor. “I’m not hungry.”
    “Do you need anything? What can I do to—?”
    “Stop fussing,” Yvette said. “Sit back down. I’m fine. Really.” She looked directly at her protégée, one of six gifted young people who possessed special psychic talents and had come to her for understanding and guidance. “Blythe, did I talk in my sleep? Did I say something, anything you could understand?”
    “You mumbled, but I couldn’t understand most of what you were saying. Only a few words.”
    “And those words were?”
    “A name. You called out a name several