InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 6: Shameless ❯ Frantic ( Chapter 32 )

~~Chapter 32~~

~Frantic~

 

 

“Hold still.”

 

Jillian grimaced but did as she was told, closing her eyes in an effort to avoid seeing her hair falling around her like snow. Sure, it would grow back. She knew that. It didn't help the sick feeling that twisted her stomach in knots. Handcuffed to the chair in the abysmal hotel room just down the street from Helena Regional Airport, she'd been powerless to stop him. `Gavin,' she thought as she bit her cheek hard. `Gavin, help me . . .'

 

The eel-youkai unlocked her arm and jerked her to her feet, propelling her toward the bathroom before handing her a bottle of black hair dye. “If you'd be so kind,” he said, his voice mocking, his smile insincere.

 

Jillian shook her head slowly. “No . . .” she said slowly. “No . . .”

 

Pushing his black leather jacket aside, he rested his hand on his lean hip. Jillian grimaced at the flash of metal—the gun—holstered to his waist. “. . . Please,” she whispered.

 

Biting her lip, swallowing hard, she took the bottle and did as she was told. The starkness of the black hair was startling against her skin, washing out her tan and making her eyes seem even paler by comparison. There was a plain brown cotton dress carelessly dropped over the closed toilet. He grunted, nodding at the change in clothes, and Jillian didn't complain as she tugged off her sundress and donned the ugly clothes. A pair of smoky sunglasses completed the ensemble, and she stood by and watched helplessly as he dumped everything out of her purse into the trash can. “Here,” he said, slapping a plain black wallet into her hand along with her purse. “Your name is Mary Smith. Try anything cute, and you'll regret it.”

 

From there, he'd dragged her to the airport. He did most of the talking—hurrying to speak for her any time she was directly asked any questions. Panic was setting in thick, choking her and making her want to scream.

 

“And your name, ma'am?” the receptionist asked.

 

“Mary Smith,” the youkai said quickly, his claws digging into Jillian's elbow.

 

She leaned forward quickly, ducking her chin, peering over the rim of the sunglasses, giving the girl a look that Jillian could only hope that she would interpret correctly. “My friends call me `Rose',” she said quickly. “I was named after my mother, but I loved my Grandma Rose best.”

 

The woman didn't seem to understand the message that Jillian was trying to impart her.

 

“Now, Mary, you don't need to bore her with your life story,” the youkai growled in her ear. “Give her your ID card so we can get on the plane.”

 

Jillian did as she was told before he hurried her through security and up to the terminal where they'd boarded the plane bound for Denver.

 

`Rose,' Jillian thought wildly, hoping, praying, that Gavin could hear her. `Rose . . .'

 

Something was pulling her away from him; an invisible force that drew her back out of the realm of dreams. She didn't want to wake up. She didn't want to see where she was or who was waiting for her. Gavin's voice—now so far away—echoed to her, lent her strength. `Where are you, Jilli? I'll find you . . . just wait for me . . .'

 

Jillian lay on the uncomfortable gurney and stared through heavily-lidded eyes at the glinting silver circlets that wrapped around her wrist. There was one on her other wrist, too, she supposed. She was having trouble focusing her attention on any one thing; maybe a lingering effect of the dope they'd pumped into her when she'd first woken up . . .

 

`Where am I?' she asked herself, forcing her attention off the handcuff—she vaguely remembered someone telling her that they were the kind with Ofuda sealed inside to prevent her escape. The cold cinderblock walls were covered with a glossy coat of white industrial paint, and the long fluorescent bulbs that glowed high overhead gave a timeless sort of look to the surroundings. Devoid of windows, the room where she lay gave off a business-like aura that seeped into her very bones, made Montana seem so far away . . . `Gavin . . .'

 

The very mention of his name lent her a peaceful feeling that she desperately needed. It was enough to take the edges off her predicament. He'd come for her. He promised . . .

 

She could discern whispering voices coming from somewhere off to the left. Unable to make out any sentences and only able to make sense of a few scattered words, Jillian's head swam when she tried to concentrate on what any of them were saying. It took a few moments of intense concentration and enough effort to bring a sheen of sweat to her brow before she could manage to turn her head to look at the men—her captors.

 

“Need . . .”

 

“. . . Alive, but . . .”

 

“. . . Simple process . . .”

 

“Eli said . . .”

 

“. . . Don't know . . .”

 

“. . . Chips . . .”

 

`Chips?' Jillian thought distractedly. `Hungry . . .'

 

The shortest of the youkai—they were all youkai—stood up on his tiptoes to glance over the shoulder of the squat man who had his back facing her. Noticing that Jillian was awake, he grimaced and cleared his throat as his ruddy complexion grew a little redder. “I'm going to talk to her,” he stated. “I'll see if I can get any answers.”

 

The other three seemed rather irritated at the man's statement. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped away from the group and cautiously walked over to the gurney. “Can you say your name?” he asked.

 

She blinked at the odd question. “Yes,” she replied slowly, careful not to slur her words. “Jillian. Who . . . are . . . you?”

 

He ignored her. “Do you know why you're here?”

 

She shook her head. At least, she thought she did. She wasn't certain, though, because the man continued to stare at her, his watery brown eyes wide. “No,” she forced herself to say out loud.

 

“Does the name `Kennedy' mean anything to you?” he went on, “or `Liza'?”

 

“N-n-n,” she half-moaned.

 

He looked a little crestfallen. “I see . . .”

 

She wanted to ask questions of her own, but she couldn't. Her brain was too foggy; it was too difficult to form coherent thoughts let alone form questions.

 

“Bring me the hand scanner,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the youkai who were still talking in hushed tones that Jillian couldn't discern.

 

“Who . . .? Ken . . .nedy . . . Liza . . .?”

 

The man—a doctor?—carefully inserted the end of a needle into a little glass jar and turned it upside down, drawing clear liquid into the syringe. “Go back to sleep. This'll be much simpler if you do.”

 

Where was she? Where was this place?

 

She tried to pull away from the man as he grasped her arm and poked her with the needle. She tried to tell him to stop, but she couldn't . . .

 

Her eyelids felt heavy, leaden, and though she struggled to stay awake, she couldn't. Gavin's face floated before her, and in her mind, she could hear him whispering to her. She couldn't tell if she was dreaming or awake. Gavin wasn't there, was he? Yet he was there; right there. He reached out to touch her hand, to stroke her cheek with tender fingers. `Hold on, Jilli . . . I'm on my way . . .'

 

`G-Gavin . . .?'

 

`Jilli?'

 

`You got my message? Rose . . .?'

 

He smiled, nodded. `Yeah, I got that. Smart girl.'

 

`I . . . I thought you'd recognize your grandmother's name . . .'

 

`I did,' he assured her. `Of course I did.'

 

`Gavin . . . I want to go home . . .'

 

He grimaced but nodded. `I know . . . where are you? Do you know?'

 

`I don't know . . . He took me to a hotel after we got to Denver, and he gave me a shot. Then I fell asleep . . . I think I'm still asleep . . .'

 

`Oh, God . . . He hasn't . . . he didn't . . .'

 

`He said they need me, Gavvie . . . but I just want to go home . . .'

 

`Okay, Jilli . . . just hold on. I'm on my way. I promise . . .'

 

`. . . O-okay . . .'

 

`Jilli?'

 

`Hmm?'

 

`Don't cry, and don't worry, all right?'

 

`. . . All . . . right . . .'

 

`Hold on, Jilli . . . Just a little longer . . .'

 

She could do that, couldn't she? She could hold on and be brave for Gavin . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Cain sat back with a heavy sigh and fastened his seat belt. The last thing he wanted to be doing was enduring a two hour flight with InuYasha Izayoi, of all people, but wouldn't you know that the only available seats were situated side by side?

 

He sighed. It was nearly four in the morning. His cell phone rang, and with a grimace, he checked the caller ID. “Hello?” he said after turning the device on.

 

Ben grunted. “Any word, Zelig?”

 

“It looks like whoever took her is headed to Denver. Gavin and Evan already flew out, and we just got off the ground a little while ago. Anything there?”

 

“Nope. Bas and Gunnar are flying in, but it was a bit of a pain to find two flights,” he explained. “Sebastian's flying into Helena; Gunnar's coming into Billings.”

 

Cain nodded and rubbed his eyes. “What the hell happened? Mickey B. confessed, damn it . . .”

 

“Keh!” InuYasha snorted, arms folded and expression blank other than the tell-tale glowing of his golden eyes. “`Cause there's two of them, baka,” he snarled. “Pretty damn stupid for a tai-fucking-youkai, if you ask me—that damn Mickey B. ain't smart enough to find his way out of a cardboard box let alone kidnap Jillian, even if he wasn't in jail right now.”

 

Cain shot InuYasha a quelling glance that would have been much more effective had the hanyou been looking at him. “And you know this?” he asked instead.

 

“Stands to reason,” InuYasha pointed out. “He copped to everything but the shit down in Mexico.”

 

“Which makes sense since he'd be in a lot more trouble for murder than he will be for stalking,” Cain ground out.

 

“Actually, Zelig, what InuYasha says does make sense,” Ben cut in.

 

If Ben were there in front of him, Cain would have had to refrain from giving into the urge to smack his best friend and general, more for having agreed with InuYasha than anything else.

 

“God,” Cain sighed. “What the hell does he want with Jillian?”

 

Neither InuYasha nor Ben responded to that.

 

“If you figure out anything, call me back,” Cain finally said.

 

“Zelig . . .”

 

“What?”

 

Ben sighed. “Just be careful, will you? Not one of you took a weapon . . . It could be that Jillian isn't their target, at all.”

 

“What do you mean? Of course she's their target. They—”

 

“Like it or not, youkai know who you are. To dismiss the idea that they're just trying to get to you through your daughter is completely short-sighted. Don't be a fool.”

 

“Don't be ridiculous!” Cain growled. “No one would dare.”

 

Ben uttered a little chuckle completely devoid of humor. “You should know better than anyone that targeting the tai-youkai's family is something that has been done in the past and could be done in the future.”

 

That gave Cain pause, and he sighed. “All right,” he said. “I'll be careful. Just keep me posted if you hear anything.”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

The line went dead, and Cain scowled at the device for a moment before dropping it into his pocket again.

 

“If my granddaughter is in danger because of you, I swear to kami, I'll sharpen my claws on you,” InuYasha growled.

 

Cain snorted. “Pfft! Why did you come along, anyway?”

 

That earned him a doleful glower. “Why else? To make sure you didn't fuck it all up.”

 

“Come again?”

 

“Keh! You were taking care of this business, weren't you? Did a piss-poor job of it, too.”

 

“We did everything we could do, given the information we had,” Cain ground out.

 

“The hell you did!” InuYasha snarled, earning him strange looks from the surrounding passengers. He ignored them. “If you'd sent someone down to Mexico in the beginning, you'd have known that you were barking up the wrong fucking tree!”

 

Cain held his breath for all of a minute before he dared open his mouth to speak to InuYasha again. When he did, his tone was clipped, calculated, and he dug his claws into the armrest to keep his spiking temper in check. “I did send someone down there to check things out. Trouble was, just like in New York, there'd been so many human authorities in and out of the area around the crash site that there was nothing we could do. There was no lingering scent. There was no trace evidence. Every bit of evidence that might have helped us in locating this guy blew up with the car. Don't tell me what I am and am not doing, damn it. I'm doing the best I can.”

 

“And when it's your pup in trouble, you do more,” InuYasha insisted, bearing his fangs at Cain.

 

“I'm worried about her, too,” Cain gritted out. “Let's just find her, all right? You can take potshots at my parenting skills later.”

 

“Fine by me,” InuYasha growled.

 

“Good.”

 

“Good.”

 

That said, Cain leaned back and closed his eyes, set on ignoring his father-in-law, even if he had to die in the doing. Now if they could just catch a break when they touched down in Denver, they'd be one step ahead of the game.

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Jillian moaned softly as she tried to force herself to open her eyes. `Where . . . am I . . .?'

 

It took a moment for her cloudy mind to comprehend the idea that she was still being held against her will. She was still cuffed to the gurney, but she was inside some sort of cylindrical containment unit. A long red beam was slowly tracking down her body, and while it didn't hurt, it did make her uneasy. Just what were they doing to her? And why?

 

A soft whimper escaped her as a vicious pang erupted deep inside. `Gavvie . . .? Gavvie, where are you?'

 

Her brain hurt. Still groggy from the drugs they'd been pumping into her—who knew how much they'd injected into her when she was out of it?—she couldn't seem to form any real coherent thoughts. Everything seemed surreal, distorted. The only thing that was concrete to her was the desperate need to escape, to find Gavin. He'd protect her. He was her hero, and the hero always protected the damsel in distress . . . She could feel the edges of hysteria creeping up on her, and she moaned again as a single tear slipped down her temple into her hair.

 

Her senses were dulled, too. She'd always wondered what the others had meant when they'd had their human nights—at least, until Bas and Evan were old enough that they stopped having those completely. Evan had told her once that it felt like he was swimming underwater. He couldn't smell, couldn't see, couldn't hear as well as he normally did. It was a sensation that he hadn't liked, and Jillian hadn't really grasped that. Being a water-youkai, she supposed, she hadn't really noticed that sort of discomfort underwater. Now, though . . . maybe she did know what he'd been saying before . . .

 

The top of the unit opened with a hiss of a hydraulic lever, and Jillian blinked as the harsh light of the fluorescent bulbs bore down on her. The doctor stood beside the machine, and after checking her pulse, he reached over, tinkering with something that Jillian couldn't see. A soft beep sounded in her ears, and with another hiss, the end of the containment unit opened up.

 

He walked away only to reappear by the opened end at the foot of the gurney. Pulling her out of the cylinder, he carefully maneuvered her toward the elevator on the far side of the room.

 

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice husky, her words a little slurred. “What do you want with me?”

 

The man didn't look at her. Staring at her feet, it seemed, he scowled and pushed the button on the control panel beside the metal doors.

 

“M-maybe I can help you,” she went on, struggling to keep her brain focused. “If you tell me what you want . . .”

 

Pushing her into the elevator, he remained silent.

 

`Don't panic, Jilli . . . don't panic . . .'

 

Wise words, she figured. Too bad she wasn't positive she could heed the advice.

 

The elevator lurched unpleasantly, and Jillian had to bite back the dizzying waves of nausea that hit her hard. She'd never liked the contraptions, and being chained to a gurney on one was even worse, in her opinion.

 

She just wanted to go home; wanted to be surrounded by people who loved her. She was supposed to be getting married, wasn't she? Just how long had she been here so far? How long did they intend to keep her here?

 

The elevator jerked to a stop, and the doors slid open. Finding herself back in the room that she recognized vaguely from the last time she'd woke up, Jillian bit her lip when the man wheeled her out of the elevator and walked around the gurney, pausing at each corner to secure the wheels.

 

“Are you thirsty?”

 

Jillian blinked at the conversational tone in the man's voice.

 

“Wh-what?”

 

He shrugged, his gaze meeting hers for a moment before skittering away to the side. “Are you thirsty?”

 

Nodding slowly, Jillian watched as the doctor filled a Styrofoam cup with water from a pitcher on the small stand nearby and stuck a clear straw in it. Holding the cup, he eased the straw between her lips and held it for her while she sipped. “Thank you,” she said, turning her head away to show that she was finished.

 

He set the cup aside and picked up a clinical white phone. “Bring me the Zyrtoph . . . broken? What happened to it . . . ?” He heaved a sigh, shaking his head slowly as he rubbed his cheek. “You do that,” he barked. “Hurry up.”

 

Jillian grimaced when the youkai slammed the phone down and snatched a syringe and bottle of the drugs off the stand. “Incompetent . . . of all the . . . What was he doing? Playing with it? It's not a toy, damn it! Broke it . . . stupid . . .” he mumbled as he filled the syringe and dropped the bottle onto the stand once more.

 

“No,” Jillian whispered as the doctor turned her arm efficiently but not meanly. “Please—”

 

“It's better this way,” he said in a voice that was much gentler than the angry glint in his eyes would have let her believe were possible.

 

She couldn't suppress the whimper that escaped as he pricked her arm with the needle again. “Why . . .?”

 

He didn't reply. Jillian tried to fight the effects of the drugs, but she couldn't help it, either. Her eyes started to close of their own accord, or so it seemed. As desperately as she wanted to stay awake, she just couldn't. `Gavin . . . help . . . me . . .'

 

“You look just like your mother, Jillian . . .” the doctor murmured.

 

`Mama . . .?' she wondered vaguely as she drifted off to sleep. `He . . . knows . . . Mama . . .? But I don't . . . not really . . .'

 

`Unless,' another voice whispered in her mind—her youkai voice, `unless he means . . . your biological mother . . .'

 

The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was the man's voice: “Just like Liza . . .”

 

`Li . . . za . . .?'

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Gavin stood on the street, breathing deep as he tried to catch a lingering trace of Jillian's scent. He could almost discern it, though to be completely honest, he wasn't certain whether or not he really did smell it or if he simply wanted to so badly that he thought he did. “Damn it,” he muttered, clenching his fists tight. “Damn it!”

 

Evan pushed out of the airport and scanned the semi-circle drop-off area with a narrow-eyed gaze. “None of the receptionists remembered her,” he said without preamble. “Not surprising. They've probably changed shifts since then . . .”

 

Stepping off the curb into the path of a yellow taxi, Gavin ignored the yelled curses from the harried driver as he was forced to lie on the brakes to avoid hitting Gavin.

 

Dawn was just breaking over the skyline of the city, and with every moment that the light grew brighter, he could feel the surging panic creeping higher. Jillian had been in their control for almost twenty-four hours. Gavin would be damned if she'd stay with them for another twenty-four . . .

 

`Jilli! Where are you?'

 

There was no answer.

 

He grimaced. `Jilli . . .'

 

A sudden warmth shot through him. Akin to the feeling of her youki brushing over his, he snapped his head to the side, eyes widening as he glanced around the city. She was that way: to the north. Without bothering to speak to Evan, he sprinted through the parking lot and around the high rise parking garage. In the alley, he vaulted onto the low roof of the car rental building.

 

“Oi! Jillian's scent went the other way!” Evan hollered as he landed on the building and dashed after Gavin.

 

“Don't care,” Gavin growled as he sped up.

 

“What do you mean, you don't care?” Evan demanded.

 

Gavin glanced over his shoulder and snorted. “She's this way, Evan. I can feel her.”

 

“Yeah? You're sure?”

 

Gavin nodded. “I'm sure.”

 

“Gotcha.”

 

With every step he took, he could feel the pull of her growing steadily stronger, and that was enough to lend him a sense of reluctant reassurance. He might not know exactly where she was, but he knew that she wasn't too far, and that was enough.

 

`Gavin?'

 

He faltered for a moment but managed to keep his footing as the instant flood of relief crashed over him and nearly brought him to his knees. `Jilli!'

 

`Gavin . . .'

 

`Where are you? Did you figure anything out?'

 

`No . . . they keep giving me shots . . .'

 

`Don't worry, okay? I'm coming for you . . . can you feel me? I can . . . I can feel you . . . I'll be there . . .'

 

`He said I look like my mother . . . how would he know that, Gavin? How?'

 

Gavin grimaced as he vaulted over the rooftops, over the wide streets below. Somewhere it registered in his mind that what he was doing was dangerous; that he shouldn't be running around in broad daylight like this where humans could see him. He didn't care. Jillian was more important. She was scared, she was worried, and he just didn't give a damn whether humans saw him or not. Evan was fast on his heels, though, and he wasn't commenting on the impropriety of it, either . . .

 

`I don't know, Jilli . . . just hang on, okay? We'll be there . . .'

 

`What if you can't find me?' she wailed, the fear in her voice goading him faster.

 

`I'll find you; I promise. I'll be there as soon as I can.'

 

`Hurry, Gavin? Please hurry . . .'

 

He winced but kept running. `I'm sorry, Jilli . . . I never should have let you go alone. I'm sorry; so sorry . . .'

 

`You'll save me, right? Be my hero . . .?'

 

`Yes. God, yes . . . I'll be there before you know it.'

 

`And we'll still get married?'

 

`Whatever you want, Jilli. Anything you want . . .'

 

`I . . . I just want to go home . . .'

 

`Okay . . . I'll take you home; I swear.'

 

`Gavin . . .?'

 

`Yeah?'

 

`I love you . . .'

 

Swallowing hard, blinking back the sheen of moisture that clouded his vision, Gavin raced on. `I . . . I love you, too, Jilli.'

 

 

~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~ =~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~*~=~

A/N:

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Final Thought fromJillian:

What the heck is a Zyrtoph …?

==========

Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Shameless): I do not claim any rights to InuYashaor the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

 

~Sue~