by Susan Stoker
Arrow and the others would subdue anyone who tried to stop them, and he’d take care of Allye. It was how it should’ve been from the moment she’d approached him about wanting to come back to California, but he’d been pigheaded and an ass about it.
So far, they hadn’t encountered any resistance. Meat had somehow hacked into the security system around the refuge and turned off the alarms. All they’d had to do was break the lock on the back fence, and they were inside.
There were animal noises all around, but Gray barely heard them. No one knew what to expect when they breached the doors, but they were ready for anything. They’d been on enough rescue missions to know what they found would be either really good or absolutely horrifying.
Gray was betting on the latter.
The five men slipped into a dark hallway as if they were nothing but shadows. Meat’s voice in their ears kept them updated on everything going on at the refuge around them via the compound’s own security monitors, keeping an eye out for anyone who might come in from behind.
There wasn’t even one footstep to be heard as the mercenaries made their way down the hall, toward the music they heard coming from a door at the very end.
As they passed a window, Arrow paused and stared inside. A small light was on in the ceiling, and the team could see a diminutive woman on the other side of the glass. Gray thought she was dead until she blinked. Her mouth opened, and she said something, but the glass was so thick, no one could hear her. Either that, or she wasn’t making any sound.
Her tiny finger came up, and she pointed in the direction they were headed. Ball put his finger to his lips, and she nodded.
Gray dreaded seeing what was inside the next room as they approached the window. It was another woman. She was pacing back and forth angrily. The second she saw them, she pounced at the glass, and her mouth opened as if she were screaming.
“Bloody hell,” Ro swore almost silently, taking an involuntarily step backward. They all saw that not only was every inch of the woman’s skin tattooed, so was her tongue and inner lips.
The group kept walking and barely glanced into the last two rooms. They’d seen enough. Nightingale was going down, and these women would be freed if it was the last thing they did.
As they approached the door at the end of the hall, the music got louder.
Black put his hand on Gray’s shoulder. “You in control?” he asked. “You ready to face whatever’s behind that door?”
“Allye’s behind that door,” Gray said almost tonelessly. “I’d face down the devil himself to get to her.”
“You just might have to,” Ball interjected before nodding at Ro.
Instead of busting through the door as if the hounds of hell were entering, Ro reached out and silently turned the knob, then pushed against the door. It moved inward, and Gray smiled.
They’d learned during one of their very first missions together that sometimes it was more effective to sneak into where you wanted to go, and to always check to see if the door was unlocked before busting it down.
Watching Ro push the door slowly, hoping against hope it didn’t squeak, Gray and the other Mountain Mercenaries entered the room, and prepared to take down the most notorious sex trader they’d ever encountered.
“Higher!” Nightingale barked when the pirouette Allye had just performed didn’t meet his expectations.
“I’m doing the best I can,” she protested, breathing hard and wincing as another splinter gouged into the ball of her foot.
Without a word, Nightingale placed the tip of the knife he was holding against Robin’s arm and drew it downward, a line of red welling up in its wake.
“Don’t argue with me, pet,” Nightingale said. “You’re killing her.”
She wanting to yell at him that she wasn’t the one killing Robin, who looked pale and weak on her knees in front of him—he was. But Allye kept her mouth shut and went back to her position on the stage to start where she’d left off.
She’d been dancing for a while now—she had no idea how long—but she couldn’t seem to do anything right. Probably because her feet were bleeding from the coarse floor, and every time she stumbled, Nightingale hurt Robin.
Allye was in the middle of a spin when she thought she saw something in the back of the dark room. There was a spotlight on her, and the rest of the room was dark. She held her breath and continued dancing, praying that what she’d seen was help coming for her and Robin.
She’d been concentrating so hard on the back of the room, Allye had forgotten to spot as she spun. As a result, when she stopped, she was so dizzy that she staggered and fell to her knees.
Nightingale was furious. “No, pet, no! My Mystic doesn’t fall over! Stupid! So stupid!”
Allye saw him reach for Robin again, and she’d had enough. She was done playing his games. Done being the reason he hurt her friend and mentor. She couldn’t do it anymore.
“I’m done!” she said firmly. “No more.”
Nightingale looked at her with such evilness and pleasure at her refusal, she shivered. “No? So you’re okay with me killing her right here in front of you?”
Allye opened her mouth to respond, but Robin got there first.
“Do it, asshole,” she slurred. “You’re going to kill me anyway. Just do it already.”
“The only one dying here tonight is you, Nightingale.”
The deep voice with the British accent came from the darkness, and Allye had never heard anything so beautiful in all her life.
Without thinking, she ran toward the sound of the voice.
Before she’d taken more than three steps, however, Nightingale jumped on the stage and snagged her arm. She screeched and tried to yank herself out of his grip, with no luck. Nightingale jerked her toward him and wrapped an arm around her chest. He pressed the knife against her jaw above the leather collar and pulled them both upstage.
Three black shapes moved closer to the stage and surrounded it, while a fourth helped Robin stand and moved her back toward the door.
“Who are you? How’d you get in here?” Nightingale shouted, shuffling backward, practically carrying Allye with him.
“Who we are doesn’t matter. All that matters is you letting her go.”
Allye didn’t know who spoke, but it didn’t make a difference. They were here. They’d found her.
From the side, someone jumped onto the stage and held his hands up as he approached, indicating he was unarmed.
“Let her go.”
Allye almost stopped breathing.
Gray. That was Gray. He was here!
She frantically tried to see him, but his back was to the spotlight, and all she saw was his silhouette.
“Come closer and she dies!” Nightingale said, turning to fully face the new threat, putting pressure on the bloody knife he held to her neck.
She tried not to react, but couldn’t help the small whimper when the tip pressed into her skin. It was excruciatingly painful. Now this was exactly what Gray had tried to tell her would happen. That he wouldn’t be able to bear it if she was being used to get him to do something. Just like when he was in Afghanistan.
But no. This wasn’t the Middle East, and she wasn’t a helpless victim. Gray wasn’t tied up, and he had his badass friends at his back. Between all of them, they could surely outsmart the man holding her hostage. Couldn’t they?
She couldn’t see Gray’s face. Couldn’t tell if he was sending her any signals or not, so she’d have to be the one to send him some sort of signal. But what? Nightingale was holding her too tightly for her to be able to go limp and hope he dropped her. The knife he was holding to her neck was extremely sharp, and he’d easily be able to hurt her badly if Gray jumped him.
So what could she do?
“Master?” she said softly, the word seeming loud in its obscenity.
“What’d you say?” he asked, squeezing his arm around her chest tighter.
“Master,” Allye repeated, “you’re hurting me
. I can’t dance if you hurt me.”
His grip loosened a fraction. “You’re mine,” Nightingale said. “I bought you . . . you’re mine.”
“Yours,” Allye said, staring at Gray. “I’m yours to do with as you please.”
“Your eyes were what drew me. I knew I had to have you,” Nightingale rambled. “And your hair, so pretty, that white streak . . . I want to have babies with eyes just like yours and with that white streak in their hair.”
“I want that too,” Allye told him, all the while still looking in Gray’s direction.
“Will you dance for me, Mystic? All I ever wanted was to collect beauty. And you’re the most beautiful addition to my collection yet.”
“Yes, Master,” Allye dutifully told him. “I’ll dance for you. I’ll stay here and do whatever you want me to.”
“You’re lying!” he growled, tightening his hold on her and bringing the knife up to her face. He ran the flat edge up her cheek and paused with the tip just under her eye. “Maybe I’ll cut out your eyes and put them in a jar. That way I can look at them whenever I want without having to deal with back talk and you betraying me. Women always lie. They always promise one thing and then take it away.”
“I’m not lying,” Allye said, knowing she’d seriously underestimated this man.
“You are . . . but that’s okay,” Nightingale said. “Because I’m going to fuck you, keep you alive long enough to have my pup, then stuff your body so I can look at your eyes anytime I want.”
Allye opened her mouth to respond—but didn’t get the chance.
The second Nightingale turned to face Gray—probably to taunt him some more—and moved the knife away from her face, he was ripped away from her. He was on the ground with Black and Arrow on top of him, before she could say a word. They’d moved in from behind while his attention was focused on threatening her and avoiding Gray’s advance.
Then Gray was there. He wrapped his arms around her, picking her up so her feet weren’t touching the rough wood planks anymore, and jumped off the stage with Allye still in his arms. He backed down the aisle until they reached Robin. Without a word, he eased Allye to the ground. He looked at the padlock on the collar around her throat, and his jaw ticked. He ran his thumb over the small scratch on her jaw from the knife Nightingale had threatened her with, then nodded at Ro, who had followed him up the aisle.
He stalked back down the aisle toward his teammates—and the loudly protesting and fighting Nightingale.
“Look away if you don’t want to watch him die,” Ro told Allye and Robin in a tone of voice he might have used when discussing the weather.
Allye couldn’t. She wanted to see the man die. Needed to.
She couldn’t hear what the men were saying, but it was obvious Black, Arrow, and Gray were getting information from him any way they could. They turned him onto his back and, using the same knife he’d used to hurt Robin and Allye, held it to his neck.
Allye finally looked away when Nightingale screamed and his feet started pounding on the rough wood of the stage.
She hoped the terrible man who had hurt so many was suffering as much as possible.
As if in confirmation, Nightingale’s next scream was high-pitched and anguished.
She was about to look back when Ro said quietly, “Not yet, love.”
So Allye kept her eyes on Robin. She eased over to her friend and took her hand in her own, squeezing it tightly, happy that the woman was still alive after everything she’d been through. She was relieved when Robin had the strength to return the pressure.
Nightingale screamed again, this one sounding a bit gurgled, but Allye still didn’t look toward the stage. She heard him protesting one more time, pleading for his life, then he grunted.
And that was that.
“Is it over?”
“It’s over,” Ro confirmed.
“Are you guys going to get in trouble?”
The big Brit looked down at her and smiled then. “Trouble? Hardly. I think the city might just give us a medal.”
Then Gray was there once more. His lips were drawn into a hard, thin line, and he didn’t speak as he leaned over and picked her up again. Ro scooped up Robin, and they left the big, eerie room.
Allye looked over Gray’s shoulder as they left. The spotlight was still shining on the stage. Nightingale’s dead body lay in the middle of the wood planks, his blood staining the boards under him. His legs were spread open, his arms at his sides, and he was staring up at nothing.
Allye closed her eyes and felt only relief. It was over. Yes, there were other men to track down, and there were still hundreds of missing women Nightingale had orchestrated the sales of, but her life could return to normal.
Why she wasn’t happier about that, Allye didn’t know.
Yes, she did. Gray. She had no idea where they stood and what he’d want.
She laid her head on Gray’s shoulder and sighed. She’d think about it later. Much later.
Chapter Seventeen
Allye lay in the hospital bed, antsy and ready to leave. They’d walked out of the bunker under the San Rafael Exotic Animals Refuge well after midnight the previous evening, into a sea of emergency lights. Rex had contacted the local police, and they’d descended in swarms.
The men Allye had seen helping Nightingale with his torture were in custody, and the women he’d been holding hostage were taken to the hospital.
Ball, Black, and Arrow had managed to sneak off without being questioned by the police, but since Ro and Gray had been carrying Robin and herself, they’d been detained.
Gray had actually kissed her on the forehead before nodding at the paramedics in the ambulance to shut the doors. She wanted to protest. Wanted to say that she wasn’t going anywhere without him, but she still didn’t know how he felt. He was there, yes, but he hadn’t spoken more than two words to her since he’d rescued her.
He’d been so angry with her in Colorado. And she’d snuck out of his house like she was in the wrong. Maybe he’d just felt a sense of responsibility for her. And now that he’d rescued her—again—he was done.
The thought made the pesky tears spring to the surface once more, but Allye held them back by sheer force of will.
She’d been poked and prodded by several doctors. They’d pulled the splinters from her feet, given her an IV because she was dehydrated, and kept her overnight for observation. Now it was midmorning, and they hadn’t discharged her yet. She didn’t know what they were waiting for, and was contemplating getting up and simply walking out when she heard a disturbance in the hallway outside her room.
A woman was arguing with someone that she was going to see her son’s fiancée, and nobody and nothing was going to stop her.
Allye grinned. She could just imagine some little old lady shaking her finger in a doctor’s face and giving him hell.
She was still grinning when the door to her room opened, and a woman she’d never seen before stood there. A nurse was right behind her.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Martin. This woman says she’s related to your fiancé and won’t take no for an answer. Just say the word, and I’ll call security and have her removed.”
Allye stared at the woman in the doorway. She was tall; she had to be almost six feet, in Allye’s estimate. She was slender and wearing a knee-length skirt, a designer blouse, and three-inch Jimmy Choo shoes. She carried a Louis Vuitton bag big enough to hold plenty of clothes for Allye to survive on for a week.
“Hello, Allye,” the woman said, stepping into the room with a wide grin.
“Ms. Martin, should I call security?” the nurse asked nervously.
Allye’s eyes went from the woman to the nurse, and she shook her head. “No, it’s fine.”
“Just use the call button if you need me,” the nurse said.
Before she left, Allye asked, “You were going to check on my discharge . . . Have you found the doctor yet?”
“Oh, right. I’ll see what I can do,” the nurse m
umbled as she left the room, leaving Allye with the stranger.
The woman put her bag on the floor and stepped closer to the bed. Her silver hair was in an elaborate updo, and her brown eyes twinkled as she smiled at her. Her makeup was flawless, and she honestly looked like a model to Allye. But she was probably around sixty, so her being a model was probably unlikely.
She hovered near the side of the bed, but didn’t come close enough for Allye to feel threatened in any way.
“My name is Pene Rogers, dear,” the woman said. “And my son has said nothing but good things about you. I’m so glad to finally meet you, I’m only sorry it’s in a situation like this.”
Allye stared at the woman. This was Gray’s mother? She’d pictured someone completely different. Not this . . . beautiful, fashionable goddess. It made Allye even more uneasy to meet her.
“Uh . . . hi. Do you know where your son is?”
She waved her hand in the air breezily. “Oh, he’s taking care of something. Don’t you worry. He’ll be here before you know it.”
That’s what Allye was afraid of. “What are you doing here?”
“Gray called early last night and said he needed me. He’d left me a message that said you’d be here, so I came straight to the hospital from the airport.”
Allye was confused. Early last night, she’d still been in Nightingale’s clutches. How did Gray know he’d find her? Or that she’d be okay?
Pene patted her hand. “Don’t think about it too hard. Grayson has always seemed to know things before they happened. Did he tell you about the time I got in a car accident and was badly wounded? He was stationed overseas and called the Red Cross before they could get in touch with him. I was fine, but he somehow knew I’d been hurt.”
Allye stared at Gray’s mom, not knowing exactly what to say.
But she didn’t seem to notice or care. She pulled up a chair and began a mostly one-sided conversation as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“I feel as if I already know you. I looked you up online, you know. You dance beautifully. I’ve read all your interviews too. I think you’ll have your work cut out for you if you want Grayson to turn into a vegetarian, but it’s good for him to eat healthier. He eats too much red meat as it is. But honestly, it’s no wonder my son loves you so much. You’re gracious, beautiful, and talented.”