Chapter 8
Did Kane have some sort of skeleton in his closet? Not talking about himself much and his frequent attempts to ask Perdita for help when he didn’t really need it. Was it all a ploy to get something from her?
Kane arrived a little before noon running lithely down the steps leading from the street onto the tiny, cobbled path. Then firmly planted a kiss on Prue’s sultry, red lips. Prue took a step back in astonishment. She hadn’t been expecting such a warm greeting. Not so soon anyway.
“Come with me.” Kane boomed. “I want to show you something I think will be of interest to you.”
“I thought we were going to eat. I’m starving! (and not just for food either!)” Prue placed her hand on Kane’s arm.
A second later and she would have missed it. Perdita turned the corner to see Kane swiftly manoeuvre Prue down the street into a dark alley. She couldn’t tell if her arms were bound or not otherwise Prue could have fought him off with her powers, unless she was a willing captive.
What was he up to now and why had Prue willingly gone with him; it was beyond logic but then again she was besotted with him. Kane turned around and Perdita quickly jumped behind a large, stony column.
Now her suspicions had been confirmed. This rogue was up to no good. Not only had he lied to her about having to cancel their conference, but he was now having a secret rendezvous with Prue Halliwell of all women! This woman who had envied her from the outset. Who’d given her the cold shoulder when Phoebe introduced them. Scoffing the mere mention of the word family or cousin when it was said they could be related.
Perdita recalled the conversation. How Prue had met Phoebe’s news with blue-eyed, defenseless silence. Then she let it rip when Perdita tried to warn her about Kane and his secret, wildly, wicked side. A destructive, brutal arrogance which could only lead to recklessness and folly.
She’d even gone so far as to accuse her of being jealous when she mentioned Kane had asked her out. Almost vampingly, Prue said she wasn’t the least bit interested in what she or anyone else had to say about Kane.
Here was Kane embarking on a secret conference all of his own. Prue had given Perdita an icy stare ignoring her warnings about Kane. Not only that, she was sure envy played a part in this picture too. But she was unsure as to why. After all they hardly knew each other.
Perdita would see where Kane was going and then she’d go back for help. Find Prue’s sisters. Especially Phoebe, with whom she felt a ‘bond’. She liked Piper who was down to earth and approachable. The sensible one. Phoebe was a fellow kindred spirit.
When she arrived at the very spot where Kane and Prue had been only two seconds earlier, she was shocked to discover there weren’t any entrances or trap doors anywhere. All the windows were locked so where did they disappear? Was Kane a ghost or a floating spirit that he could walk through walls and what of Prue?
Kane hadn’t disappeared into any buildings or houses with Prue. There was a car waiting for them at the other end of the street. A broken down, beige VW Beetle.
Prue heard noises. The general hustle, bustle of city life.
“Taxi.” A grim, sharp voice had shouted nearby. She heard cars sloshing by on the drenched streets. They made the sound of ice being shaken in a drink… She turned around and saw a man huddled in a dark raincoat. His face partially covered with a striped scarf and a slate black Trilby squarely perched on his head. He was stocky and short. Not much taller than Prue herself. Though she could hardly see him in the shadowy gloom of the tall, faceless, radiating buildings around her in the alley, she noticed him squint his eyes.
“Where are we going?” Questioned Prue furtively.
“Don’t ask so many questions.” Kane crossed. Tightening his grip on Prue’s left arm.
“You’re hurting me.” She screamed. Attempting to break free and nod her head to use her powers. Her movements were fruitless.
The Beetle pulled up from behind Prue and blocked her in between the large, grey wheelie bins and the wall. Kane followed hastily, forever keeping his tight reign on her arm. The left passenger door of the car flew open in front of her. The rumbling, groaning of the engine masked the sharp, menacing voice. Kane threw her into the car. Prue twisted and turned trying to gyrate out of his hold but he was so amazingly strong. Hitting her head against the metal rim of the door she gave out a lingering yell.
In an instant the car’s engine was revved and they started moving. Prue was bound with coarse rope. The stocky man grimaced a lot and had a distinct tattoo of a snake on his right wrist. Green, red and slimy with a slithering, forked tongue. She relived the smell of sweat and aftershave. The same as the taxi driver they hailed at the airport. This man too was partial to smoking. Could it have been the same man? So much for her insult about his body odour. But he was taking a grudge too far. This wasn’t like the taxi ride through London’s history she’d taken with Kane at Madame Tussaud’s, called ‘The Spirit of London’, this was a vast, slimy ride into today’s reality.
Prue felt blood running down her cheek. Kane pulled out a smelly, reeking rag and placed it to her nose and mouth. She turned her head from side to side and tried in vain not to breathe the caressing chemical fumes from the ether. Prue eventually passed out.
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