by Anna Lowe
“And how are you going to get this fox off the island?” Burman asked after a minute ticked by.
Ella flicked her ears, holding her breath.
Goode snorted. “Have I taught you nothing? It’s just a slight change of plan. All I need is a private jet. She’ll more than earn back the cost once I make her available to my customers. But first things first.” Ella flinched as his hand landed on her leg again, this time above her knee. “We use our bait to pull in McBride and finish him. Then we can move on to our next target. And the next, and the next, until that entire unit gets what they deserve.”
She froze. Jake? What did he want with Jake?
“Like Hoover?” Burman snorted. “We can take him out any time. No problem.”
Goode gave her hip an affectionate pat and finally left her alone. “They deserve it for fucking up my delivery, and they’re going to pay. The second we finish off that unit, we can get back to business. With a new asset, no less.”
Ella had often been referred to as a tactical asset. But Goode’s tone hinted at something completely different. Something that made her sick.
She forced her eyes open. At first, everything was blurry. Then two lumpy forms and a slice of light took shape — the front seats of the SUV. She had been thrown across the back seat. Peering down, she saw a thick cord of rope wrapped around her ankles. Her dress had ridden up, and she flinched, instinctively moving her hands to yank the hem down. But her hands were bound behind her back, and the motion only made pain flare through her shoulders.
Fuck. How could she have let this happen?
She thought it over, kicking herself for letting her guard down. Silas’s speech had gone right to her heart, and all she could think of was Jake.
It’s time to think about survival, she ordered herself.
But, damn. Even now, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. The pull of her mate was that powerful, that all-consuming…
Get your head in the game, Kitt, she barked.
A phone chimed, and the man in the passenger seat clicked it on. “Hello? Yes, all set.” He checked his watch. “ETA approximately thirty minutes.”
Ella twisted her wrists, but it was no use. Whoever had tied those knots knew what he was doing, and movement only made the rope chafe deeper into her skin. Shifting into fox form wouldn’t help her, not with her arms pinned behind her back. She would dislocate both shoulders if she tried. Shifter healing was fast, but not instantaneous. She’d be more helpless than she was now.
She gnashed her teeth. She didn’t do helpless. She didn’t do victim. She was a warrior, dammit.
So, think, she chided herself. Think fast.
She wiggled along the seat, trying to gain some sense of where the car was heading and how long she had been unconscious. A peek between the front seats gave her a glimpse of the clock on the dashboard. It was 3:18, so she hadn’t blacked out for long. The roll of tires was fast enough to indicate they were on the highway. The sun flashed between trees, creating a strobe-like effect that made the nausea worse.
Weapons. Communications. Ammo? She made a quick mental check of what she had. Which was pretty much zilch. She had dropped her phone somewhere along the line, and the only weapon her honeymooner role allowed was the knife strapped to her thigh. She rolled slowly to the left until the hilt pressed into her thigh. At least she had that. The question was how to get to it.
Goode readjusted the rearview mirror to look at her, and — too late — she flicked her eyes away.
“Ah. Miss Kitt. So nice to see you again.”
“Speak for yourself, asshole.”
He grinned. “I hate to have pulled you away from that touching occasion. Nothing more beautiful than a couple of shifters finding eternal love.” His voice dripped sarcasm.
The man in the passenger seat snorted, and Ella found herself wanting to punch them both. Love wasn’t something to mock. It was a treasure, as Georgia Mae had always said.
“What do you want?”
Goode chuckled. “I want a lot of things. But it’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you after.”
She narrowed her eyes, wishing she could read his thoughts. After what?
Goode readjusted the rearview mirror, checking the road behind him, and Burman swiveled around to do the same. “No sign of him yet.”
Ella’s stomach sank. No sign of whom? Jake? But why?
“Maybe you should slow down a little,” Burman murmured.
They wanted to be followed? Who the hell did that?
Ella closed her eyes and reached out to her shifter friends. Boone. Kai.
No answer.
Silas! Hunter?
One after another, she tried reaching each one.
Cruz… Tessa… Dawn? Anyone!
Usually, it took a moment or two to establish the kind of mental connection needed to push her thoughts into her friends’ minds. But she was still dizzy, and something else was going on. Something chaotic that had Kai, Hunter, and the others throwing orders at each other. Shit. Had there been some kind of attack?
“We could not have asked for a better diversion.” Burman laughed.
Goode nodded. “Yeah — and a better insurance policy.” He glanced back at Ella. “I have an extra man standing by. Any trouble from you and those babies are dead.”
She froze. Nina’s babies? “What kind of monster are you?”
Goode just laughed and tossed one hand up. “You know how it is. Life is cheap. It comes, it goes.”
Her jaw went slack. Those were babies, for goodness’ sake. “If you touch them…”
“Don’t make that necessary, and I won’t. You understand?”
She was tempted to call his bluff, because no one was getting past Boone, Hunter, and the others to threaten those babies. But, hell. She wasn’t about to gamble with innocent lives.
Holding perfectly still, she closed her eyes and tried reaching out to her friends again. The nausea was subsiding, but the chaos on their end went on, making it impossible to break through with a plea for help. Which she loathed to do anyway. She didn’t call for the cavalry. She was the cavalry.
Except right now. She was trussed up like a goddamn goose instead of getting ready to blaze in for a rescue with her guns blazing.
Jake, her fox whispered.
She closed her eyes and pictured his face, doing her best to tap into his mind. But humans weren’t trained in the fine art of opening their minds to the thoughts of others, and all she sensed was a vague cloud of anxiety and concern.
God, what could she do? She needed help, but Jake couldn’t take on two shifters. As a human, he stood no chance.
Goode twisted to look back then flicked his eyes down to Ella. His eyes swept over her body, undressing her, and he grinned. Grinned, like she was going to smile back or something. When he reached out, she wiggled backward, but there was nowhere to go. All she could do was clamp her legs firmly together while Goode dragged a finger from her hip to her knee. Then he held his finger under his nose, sniffed deeply, and scowled.
“McBride,” he grunted, displeased.
Ella gritted her teeth. Of course, a shifter could pick up on the little bit of Jake’s scent lingering on her body. Even a shower couldn’t erase that after all they’d done.
“I told you.” Burman laughed.
“Lucky man,” Goode conceded. “He must have enjoyed a hell of a night. But I suppose it’s tradition to grant a condemned man his last wish.”
Ella thrashed at the back of Goode’s seat. “You leave him alone!”
“You think I came all the way to Maui just to say hi and goodbye?” Goode sneered. “I came to cut his throat, and I will do it. A man who fucks with another man’s business deal – a deal worth millions – doesn’t get to walk away.”
Ella’s heart hammered away. Jake was a good soldier. A good man. But Goode — Jesus, the man was insane.
Goode checked his watch and motioned to Burman. “Get me that jet. I want it ready by six. Seven at the
latest.”
“Might be hard to arrange at this short notice,” Burman warned.
“Just do it,” Goode roared, turning red. The man had a fuse about a quarter of an inch long. “And when you’re done, get Norris on the line. I want to tell him the good news.” Goode grinned, swinging through another sharp mood shift and looking back at her.
Ella’s skin crawled. The man was out of his mind.
“Oh, I won’t kill you, sweetheart,” he said, misreading her expression. “You’re much more valuable to me alive. But that human isn’t worth anything. In fact, he owes me five million dollars. And since I doubt that country boy has that much in his account, he’ll pay with his life, as they all have.”
“Except Hoover,” the other guy pointed out. “And the other four—”
“To hell with Hoover!” Goode exploded, making Burman jump. A second later, Goode straightened his collar and went on in a measured voice. “I might not even kill Hoover. I couldn’t pay someone to be as useful as he’s turned out to be. It’s almost been fun to watch him make everyone paranoid.”
Ella gulped. It sure wasn’t fun watching Goode. What a madman.
The SUV slowed for the next light and came to a stop beside a truck. Ella looked up, desperately signaling the driver with her eyes. But the windows on Goode’s vehicle were tinted, so no one could see her — and just as well. What good would it do to drag a human into this?
Her stomach turned. Jake was a human, too.
The vehicle accelerated and she listened in as Burman murmured into his phone. “A four-seater would be fine. By seven o’clock. Yes, Houston.” He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and looked at Goode. “Changing in LA?”
Goode shook his head, looking positively lethal. “Do better, Burman.”
Burman hurried back to whomever he had on the line. “The boss wants a direct flight. Do it.” He listened for a while, then nodded. “Right. And tell our supplier we’re bringing in a new asset to join the other girls.”
Ella’s jaw fell open. Where these madmen running some kind of sex ring?
Goode glanced at her, all smiles again. “I can already see what they’ll pay for you.”
Ella kicked his seat and bared her teeth. If they were thinking of selling her as a sex slave, they had another thing coming. Like having their balls ripped off.
But Goode just laughed. “A feisty female shifter. A fox, no less.”
Her eyes shot daggers at him, but Goode just went on.
“Perfect look. Keep that up. My customers love a woman who can put up a good fight. It makes them feel more accomplished when they finally get what they want.” His eyes glowed with arousal as if he could picture the scene. Worse — as if he could picture himself in that scene.
Ella cringed. She was a capable fighter, for sure. But Goode had taken her by surprise, and if he kept her tied up, there was little she could do. Her mind spun for some means of escape. He would have to let her out of the SUV at some point, and if she was quick…
Escape isn’t enough, her fox cut in. I want revenge.
No kidding. The second Ella got loose – somehow – she would turn on Goode with her claws unsheathed. Goode might have a size advantage in human and shifter form, but she knew tricks to work around that.
She took a deep breath. Realistically, whatever chance she got would be brief, and she would have to act fast. She played out a dozen different scenarios in her mind, most starting with reaching her knife. She would yank it from its sheath, plunge it deep into Goode’s heart and twist, making sure he bled out fast enough to render his shifter healing powers ineffectual. Then she would have to shift to fox form to attack the second man. A plan with too many ifs, but what else could she do?
She swung her feet to the floor and tensed her stomach muscles, heaving through the equivalent of an abdominal crunch to sit up in the back seat.
Goode nodded ahead. “Nice view, eh?”
Her eyes darted around, trying to establish her bearings. Goode drove straight past the airport and continued on Highway 350 – the road to Hana. Almost immediately, the road narrowed and curved with every contour of the dramatic coastline. The road home.
Ella frowned. Home. It had been bad enough to see Goode step foot on her property before. To have him bring her there like a trussed-up trophy was hard to bear.
“Home sweet home, little fox,” Goode said, confirming her fears. “That piece of shit property is the perfect place for what I have in mind.”
Her mouth hung open. Why was he taking her to Pu’u Pu’eo? The off-the-beaten-track homestead might be a good place to keep a hostage hidden for a week or two, but Goode had been talking about a flight. So what was he up to?
Jake, her fox cried. He wants to kill Jake there.
Her blood ran cold. All the factors that made the homestead the ideal shifter home — the remote location, thick forest, and absence of neighbors — also made it the ideal place for a shifter fight. No human would stumble across them there.
Kai! Hunter! she called through her mind. She boiled down the situation to its basics and tried to communicate it to them through images of the property they’d all grown up on. Sooner or later, Kai and Hunter would pick up on that, and—
Later might be too late, her fox barked.
“Almost there…” Goode murmured, taking a sharp turn.
Sitting up made her feel less like a sack of potatoes, but it hurt like hell, what with her arms tied behind her back. Every time Goode swung the SUV around a left curve, she bumped into the right-side door and wrenched her shoulders. When Goode swung the vehicle right, she threatened to topple over.
She twisted to look around. The trunk was empty except for two travel duffels. No weapons of torture, no automatic guns. Goode looked ready for a quick departure, and soon.
Right after, he’d said.
As in, after Jake’s death. She was sure of it now.
Not letting that happen, her inner fox vowed.
The car swung through another few turns, each as familiar to her as the back of her hand. There was Peahi, where a couple of dozen surfers bobbed offshore, waiting for a perfect wave. On the right, vegetation tangled the hills, forming a thick wall of tropical forest she had explored as a kid. They passed a twin-forked waterfall where a tour bus stopped for passengers to snap pictures. When the SUV slowed and bumped off the paved road, her inner alarms clanged harder. The gears groaned and the chassis squeaked as Goode put the SUV in four-wheel drive and headed uphill. Jesus, he really was bringing her home.
Our home turf, her fox growled. Our advantage.
Sure — if she could move around. She twisted her wrists harder, ignoring the burning pain.
“You know what would be poetic justice?” Burman chuckled to Goode. “If you actually bought this place.”
Goode laughed. “No, piece of shit shacks are not my thing. It’s not even worth half the asking price.”
Ella strained at her bonds, vowing to throttle them both. It was ridiculous to allow a madman’s words to sting her so deeply, but they did. That little cottage meant more to her than she could ever explain — something Jake had understood and respected right away. It didn’t matter that she had always pined for the desert Southwest. She knew to appreciate Maui for all it had given her. A loving home. A stable life. A family that accepted her as she was.
But Goode didn’t respect anything, and having him step foot on the property felt as wrong to Ella as a slap in Georgia Mae’s honest, hardworking face.
“Patel,” Goode called in greeting to a tall man with long, fair hair waiting beside the gate.
When Goode stopped outside the car, Burman slid out of the SUV, gave the chain a quick yank, and shoved the gate open. He held up the broken chain with a grin that said, See my power? See what I can do?
Ella rolled her eyes. She had shifter powers too. And that chain was rusty. He’d have to do a lot more to impress her.
A second later, the door to the SUV was flung open. Goode grab
bed her ankle, hauled her out like a reluctant fish, and threw her over his shoulder with a firm pat on her ass. “Don’t test me, honey. Believe me, you don’t want to see me get mad.”
A deep, burning hate warmed her blood, and it took everything she had to stay still. Inside, she vowed revenge. The second she had her chance, Goode would be dead.
There was a certain amount of bravado in the thought, she knew, considering Goode’s size. But if she didn’t believe in herself, she was surrendering herself to a horrible fate, and she’d never give in. Never.
The familiar scents of home washed over her, but it all felt so wrong, and not just due to her upside-down view. Patel, the third man, stole off to one side, stomping through the remnants of Georgia Mae’s herb garden. Burman kicked over the wooden tiki Hunter had carved when he was fourteen and then walked ahead. “You want her on the porch where he can see her?”
“Nah. I’ll put her inside. On the bed, where she belongs.”
If Ella’s hands had been free, she would have gouged his eyes out. But all she could do was bump along, steeling herself to make a move the moment Goode put her down.
But Goode, dammit, anticipated as much. He stomped up the stairs, strode through the small house, and kicked open a door. Then he threw her on Georgia Mae’s creaky bed and pinned her down. He leaned over her, coming to within an inch of her face, grinning madly.
“You want to escape, sweetheart? You want to play?”
She could sense his inner shifter growling, itching for a hunt. The man was a monster. Terrifying.
“Some game,” she muttered, turning her face to the side.
Goode grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him. His foul breath washed over her, and his hands tightened over her shoulders. “Oh, a chase will be fun. I promise you.”
“You’re sick.”
Goode grinned and put a hand on her stomach. “Maybe I’ll have a different kind of fun with you first. My customers like fresh meat, but I reckon you’ll have some fight left over—”
He snapped his head up at the sound of tires scattering gravel. Distant and so faint, only sensitive shifter ears could catch the sound, but definitely headed toward the homestead.