The Upside of Death

The Kidnapping. Part 1

The best thing about a spirit guide is that he warns you when your future looks ugly. The worst thing is, well, sometimes he doesn’t.

Keera realized this when the front door opened by itself. A big man grabbed her hand, door keys still in it, and yanked her inside like a paper doll.

“Welcome home,” he said, the accent thick and slurry. East European, she recognized. Probably Russian. Blue eyes probing hers, not disguising their carnal message. An Animal.

He kicked the door shut and pulled her into the living room, her heart thumping hard enough to split in half. 

Two other men, dressed also in jeans and black leather were waiting.

“Miss Keera Miles,” one of them said. Jet-black hair touching his shoulders, his height the same as hers. The Animal dropped her hand; Longhair took it up and kissed it, old-world courtesy and fake as a plastic tiara. His hand fleshy and devoid of pressure. Keera said nothing, her mind spinning when it needed calm. 

Who are these people? she asked Bardo silently. What do they want?

They want you, you’re valuable to them.  Her guide’s tone was chiding, almost scolding her for not staying alert, not using her natural born abilities.

A third man stood by the window. Thin, blond and watchful. He didn’t speak, his eyes slippery, avoiding contact. 

She turned back to the Animal. He was over two hundred pounds, most of it his upper body and none of it hair. He stood a clenched fist over six feet and gazed at her with forensic appreciation. That he was the most danger to her, she got like it was being broadcast.

She looked around the living room, taking her time, showing them she wasn’t frightened. Which was a lie. 

The men had been waiting a while. Three carry-on bags lay on the floor. Scuff-marks scarred the mahogany coffee table. Two bottles of Stolichnaya vodka sat on the mantel piece. Her shot glasses, a gift from a field trip to Russia long ago, that had spent their lives resting in the cabinet, now enjoyed full employment.

“Please,” Longhair said, and touched her arm to indicate she sit with him. The Animal moved to the mantel and unscrewed a bottle. The tinny splash of liquid in glasses announcing more bad news: these home invaders liked to drink on the job. She lowered her handbag and briefcase beside her feet and sat. 

“Allow me to introduce ourselves,” Longhair said. “We’re your caregivers for the next few days.” His manner unhurried, his voice gravelly as a creek bed.

She soaked up every detail she could about the three men. Like she would be asked searching questions later. If there was a later. Right now her senses were too trampled upon, too disrupted to supply her with guidance.

The blond picked up a glass from the coffee table and threw the contents down his throat. The Animal’s gaze tracked over her body before resting on her breasts. She folded her arms without thinking then unfolded them again, clasped her hands on her lap. Thank God she had thrown a denim jacket over her summer dress that morning.

“How did you get in here?” Keera found a voice, it was squeakier than normal. “I’m going to call the police if you don’t leave now.”

“You won’t call anybody we don’t want you to,” Longhair replied. “We are the only people you need.” 

“How did you get in?” she repeated. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Locks, household locks.” He shrugged. “What man can make, man can unmake.”