The Great Below

The Protector

"'If she's your fiance,'" Nick repeated, for what must have been the fourth or fifth time that trip, "'I have to believe you won't hurt her.'"

"Stop it," Alex replied.

"I'm just wondering if you knew it was the dumbest thing you'd ever said at the time that you were saying it, or if that realization came later."

They were pushing ninety on the Interstate, Alex's knuckles waxy-white against the steering wheel as rain pounded the windshield. "I was trying to negotiate with a man who was holding the only bargaining chip. It was useless. How much farther to the car?"

"Well, that's the problem," Nick said, poking at his phone. "The signal keeps dropping in and out because of the storm. Also, he could have found the tracker, or he could have switched cars by now. Have you asked yourself what he's looking for?"

"If you're asking me to think like Victor, you're going to be disappointed."

Nick snickered, wiping condensation from his window and trying to squint through the rain at exit signs.

"What?" Alex asked.

"It's nothing. I was just thinking about that time when we tied Octavia up, kidnapped her and made her come live with us. And, you know, how morally superior we are."

Alex sputtered. "We saved her from him. And it's not like we threw her in the trunk. We put a seat belt on her, didn't we?"

"Yeah, of course. We're obviously way better than he is."

"Thanks. Thank you for that."

Nick watched his phone with renewed vigor. "Wait – I've got a signal about a mile up on the right. That could be it." Alex veered onto the exit ramp, sending both men struggling to lean into the turn. The speed could have easily caused the wheels to hydroplane, sending them both either over or through the metal railing. Conveniently, it already had a filthy silk flower arrangement strapped to it. "Take it easy," Nick warned him. "The signal looks stationary."

Alex brought the car to a halt at the top of the ramp, even though there was no stop sign. They looked out over what might have once been a main street through one of the multitude of faded, dwindling towns that dotted rural Illinois. Lights from the far side of the street gave a glimpse of what might have been a hotel or a restaurant. "It's probably stationary," Alex said, "because there's nothing here."

"Well, not nothing."

"There's no gas stations, no shops, and what's across the street – a motel? They'd be too keyed up to sleep."

Nick shot him another look. "Hotels aren't just for sleeping."

"Please stop talking."

Nick held his tongue, but only until the car was moving again, pulling them across and closer to the building and a row of cars that neither of them could recognize. "Victor thinks he got a raw deal bringing his fiance, and he hasn't seen her in weeks—"

"Hostage, Nick. You might as well say hostage, because she is not his fiance."

"I'm not arguing with you, I'm just saying that in Victor Logic Crazy-land, Dominic took something of his and he wants..."

And then they were both silent, because they'd reached the rear of the Stardust's parking lot and found themselves staring at a familiar black Mercedes.

"...a good night's sleep," Nick finished. "I hope."

#

When all of her clothes were gone, Victor moved in with the towels and carefully dried her. He squeezed at her hair and dabbed her face. It was almost loving. She shivered and hugged herself for warmth, but some of the fight had gone out of him and so she tried to relax the strain in her own muscles. Octavia looked around as he finished wiping the rain from her legs and feet, wondering what she would put on in the absence of wet clothes. Pajamas weren't hotel standard-issue, as far as she knew.