“Well, I don’t really care who you are, Mr. Harrington. I just want to know what happened to my prisoner.” Agent Trullio slid a photo across the table from the file in front of her. “Everything else is just a waste of my time. So tell me, did you see Ms. Lynd leave the cell?”
He studied the photo of Torrhent Lynd. Idly, he wondered how she’d escaped from Bedford. A woman with no apparent experience for stealth or strength would need help with such a risk. Taigen picked up the photo, hoping to get some kind of clue to who he was dealing with. “The news says she killed the leader of the underground MMA organization, but not how she did it.”
“Just answer my question, Mr. Harrington.” Agent Trullio took the photo from him, holding it in front of his face. “Did you see this woman leave her cell?”
“Yes.”
Trullio put the picture back in the file and picked up a pen. She wrote on the pad beside her then raised her eyes to his. “Did you see her attack the guard?”
“No.”
“And what were you doing there?”
Taigen inhaled slowly as he carefully weighed his options. He didn’t have much time to find Torrhent, certain she’d already tried to leave the city. Someone like her, with no training or skills in his line of work, would be easy to find. For anybody looking for her. Depending on the next few seconds, he’d either end up with a twin bullet in his chest, as a new resident in the county jail, or as a free man. “Because I’m the one who broke her out.”
Trullio stopped writing. “Excuse me?”
He motioned to her pen and pad. “I broke her out. Don’t you want to write that down?”
“Why?”
“Well, don’t you need it for evidence of something?”
“Why did you break her out?” Her voice grew hard as she dropped the pen. Her right hand went below the table, presumably for the 9mm holstered on her left side under her jacket. Trullio’s entire body tensed, but Taigen’s settled deeper into the chair.
He’d learned the trick to any lie was to include kernels of truth. The story he’d rehearsed left his lips easily, slivers of truth tinting the outright lie. “That guy you called Pelt was sent to kill her. I broke her out to prevent him accomplishing his goal. She climbed out the window when he came in.”
“You know Ms. Lynd then?”
“Not more than anyone else has seen on TV.”
“All right.” Agent Trullio sat back in her chair, arms across her chest. Her right hand remained close to her jacket’s opening, giving Taigen the impression yet again she was far more qualified than her age suggested. Her eyes narrowed. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the cold metal of the table. She dropped her voice. “Did her stepfather send you to finish the job?”
The second step of his plan began to slip into place. “If he did, do you think I’d admit to it?”
Trullio studied him long and hard, but Taigen refused to buckle under the pressure of her gaze. “You know, for the past twenty minutes I’ve been fighting the sense that you look familiar.”
“Really?” It was Taigen’s turn to lean over the table, and he wasn’t surprised when Agent Trullio remained in place. He’d hooked her, now to reel her in. “My name is Taigen Banvard, born August 17, 1981, in Las Vegas, Nevada, to Daniel Banvard and Amelia Blake. Mother dead. Father recently dead. Twin sister, convicted serial killer, Adelaide Banvard, escaped from Twin Towers Correctional two years ago.”
The last part nearly cost him his control. The interrogation room suddenly became too small. Heat licked up his neck, but he kept his breathing in check. Shame, guilt and even regret consumed him in an instant. As if a physical weight had been placed on his chest, Taigen couldn’t breathe. His sister had done horrible things. Torture. Murder. Mostly men. Guilty, but not all. He hadn’t been there for her when she needed him the most and he certainly hadn’t ever told anyone about her. He inhaled slowly to calm his racing heart as he leveled his eyes at Agent Trullio’s. “Does that help?”
Her sharp inhale indicated her fear and Taigen pushed back from the table. “Why would you tell me that?”
He shrugged, the bullet in his chest making it hard. “Maybe I’m tired of lying to everyone around me.”
Trullio nodded, her blonde hair slinking over her shoulder with the movement. “Adelaide Banvard is number one on the most wanted list. So what’s your angle here?”
Trullio turned out to be highly more inquisitive than he’d planned. He had to get her out of the room. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know on one condition.”
“What is that?” Light danced behind her eyes and Taigen imagined all the possibilities running through her head. Surely, one with her abilities wanted a promotion. Perhaps the patriarchal design of the agency limited her from reaching it. With his sister in FBI custody, the director himself would extend a welcoming hand to her.
“Coffee.”
An exasperated sigh left her lips. “Fine,” she answered. Agent Trullio collected her file then rose. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
The door closed with a click behind her and Taigen discarded the cuffs they’d used to arrest him onto the floor. Dropping the mutilated paper clip from Trullio’s file onto the floor, he stood and walked directly toward the one-way glass. His reflection stared back at him, but segments of the room beyond filtered through with a working overhead light. Nobody on the other side.
Taigen raised his eyes to the top of the mirror then farther, to the ceiling. A single vent offered him freedom, but he’d have to work fast. Agent Trullio wasn’t one to fool around when it came to getting what she wanted.
The table had been bolted to the floor away from the vent, but the chairs hadn’t. The difference in height wouldn’t be a problem. Positioning Agent Trullio’s vacant chair beneath the vent, Taigen laced his fingers between the vent’s folds and pulled. The cover dropped open with a creak. He gripped the edges of the opening, jumping off the chair as he hoisted himself into the two-by-two hole with all his strength. Taigen exhaled loudly once he collapsed into the square metal tube, his muscles screaming from misuse. Carefully pulling the vent door closed, Taigen waited in silence as the interrogation room door swung open.
“Mr. Banvard, about Torrhent—” Agent Trullio dropped the coffee in her hands, swinging back into the hallway. “Lock down this building!”
Taigen pushed his body farther into the innards of the shafts. The floor plans he’d studied before stepping into the building had burned themselves into his mind. He followed his route closely, stopping every now and then when voices traveled to his ears from directly below.
All he needed was an empty office.
Footsteps echoed up into the vent as officers and administration alike searched for him. Two escapes in one day; not a good rate for LAPD. Taigen slithered on his belly like a snake toward another opening that blazed with artificial light. Bingo. Staring down into the office, he listened for a few seconds longer to ensure it had been abandoned.
He pushed the grate down and stuck his head through the opening. No sign of occupancy. His body followed, landing soundlessly on top of a hardwood desk. A few papers crumbled under his weight, but Taigen didn’t pay them much attention. He lowered himself onto the floor, keeping his attention on the closed door in case someone came back. He took a seat in front of the desktop computer and relief bubbled to the surface of his locked-down emotions. The owner of the computer hadn’t bothered to lock their computer on their way out.
Taigen pulled up the national database and typed in Rutler’s name. The photo on his New York driver’s license showed a man in his late forties. Hard expression, blue eyes, suit. Nothing more. Another page gave a little more information. Born in Detroit, Michigan. Both high school and college degrees. Mother and father both dead; murder-suicide. Married for sixteen years to wife, Charlie Lynd, now deceased over a year from a mugging in New York City.
He clicked through a handful of crime scene photos.
The profile didn’t say anything
about Rutler’s extracurricular activities in the underground MMA fighting ring, but if Taigen had been a betting man, he’d place his money on the wife’s murder as payback. The knife wounds on the late Mrs. Rutler’s body were delivered by a professional. The internal jugular had been punctured, effectively draining blood from the brain rather than the face. Quick, fifteen seconds tops, but not painless. They’d wanted her to suffer, to gasp for air through waves of her own blood.
She’d been found alone, but Taigen doubted a man such as Rutler would have let his wife wander the streets of New York by herself. Too many risks. No, he’d have assigned a bodyguard to her, maybe even his own personal bodyguard. Whoever it’d been, they’d failed, leaving Rutler without a wife and Torrhent Lynd without a mother.
Voices in the hall tore Taigen’s gaze from the computer, but something in the back of his mind told him Rutler was looking to upgrade his personal security. Adelaide made a formidable bodyguard, as Christian Wren discovered. Nobody could get past her, but it was only a matter of time before Adelaide’s inner monster turned her employers into targets.
* * *
A ripple of fear shimmered up her spine and lingered at the base of her neck. Torrhent felt as if dozens of eyes were on her, looking for the best way to take her by surprise. Or it could just be her paranoia.
She’d landed safe and sound from the third floor of the county jail, no thanks to Harrington, but the bodies surrounding her made it hard to relax. They didn’t move, weren’t dangerous, but her gut told her she’d been wrong to stay here. She should have gotten out of LA hours ago, but the fact remained someone had come for her back at the jail. Despite her original plan to use Harrington for her own purposes, she obviously needed him. She studied each and every one of the homeless, trying to figure out what had changed. Old men huddled beneath torn jackets, women and children slept near barrel fires they’d made and mangy dogs sulked around in hopes of not being eaten. All appeared normal.
She huddled deeper into the jacket she’d found, effectively covering her face. The cement column at her back protected her from behind, but she found herself automatically searching for the knife she kept. It wasn’t there. The police had taken it. Torrhent strained to listen for a threat, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. Staying in one place had been a bad idea.
Scouring the ground, she found the piece of glass that had nicked her when she’d sat down. A new kind of scent, unlike the smoke from the fire or the putrid smell of the homeless, assaulted her nose. Cologne. Expensive. Nobody down here would have the money or need to fulfill such whimsical desires. Somebody down here didn’t belong.
Slowly leveraging her weight against the column, Torrhent stood, leaving the jacket and moldy blankets behind. It was dark under the overpass, but she could use it to her advantage.
She had no reason to believe they’d found her already, but she refused to take any chances. Sliding between a Dumpster and the chain-link fence, she waited. With her fellow residents fast asleep, only the pops and crackles of the barrel fires filled the silence. Her instincts were right. Less than two minutes after relocating, Torrhent saw him.
Muscular with short, buzzed hair, he uncovered piles of rags as he moved closer to her position. Neither ruffling clothing nor careful footsteps reached her ears. Whoever intended to find her had skill. A professional.
Keeping her gaze on the figure, she moved when he moved, backing herself around another column as he came upon her bed for the night. She watched as he riffled through the blanket. She took another step forward.
Suddenly freezing in place, the man radiated hostility.
Shit.
He’d noticed her.
Torrhent stretched up, pressing the sharp side of the glass against his throat as he straightened. He tensed under her touch and she had him right where she wanted him. “What do you want?”
“I expected you’d be out of the city by now, Torrhent,” Harrington said, his hands rising in surrender.
Torrhent nudged him face-first into the cement column with a free hand. “Hug the column.” He did. “How’d you find me?” she asked.
“It’s not hard when you know what to look for. People start noticing suspicious behavior when you make it look like you’re trying to hide from someone. We’ll work on that.”
“Spread your feet and don’t move.” She kept the glass close to his throat, biting back her scream as the edges cut through her calloused skin. As best as she could manage, she patted the length of his shirt and pants for weapons, then straightened. He was clean.
Harrington turned his head slightly, glancing over his shoulder at her. “I’ll have to teach you how to frisk someone properly, too.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
An elbow hit her face, knocking Torrhent on her back. When she opened her eyes, Harrington knelt over her. The campfire reflected its light through the piece of colored glass in his hand as he studied her. “Looks like you’ll need some training if we’re going to work together.”
His voice sounded distant as blood trickled from her nose in a sloppy wet line to her mouth. She turned, spitting it out, but even the sight of her own blood made her sick. Her vision blurred, the weight of her nausea pulling her down. She fought to speak, her head spinning more out of control. “Work . . . together?”
Massive fingers clenched into her flannel shirt, pulling her upright. It was too much to handle. Her knees buckled, the sight of blood on her hands disappearing as she fell into darkness.
* * *
“You kidnapped me!” Bottomless gray eyes burned straight into his soul.
The brutal intensity took Taigen by surprise. “Try to see it as more of a business arrangement than a kidnapping. You need my help and I need yours.”
Taigen relaxed back into the recliner, imagining he could hear her heartbeat race across the room. From the look on her face, Torrhent Lynd wasn’t about to give anything up without cause. “Agree to help me and I won’t beat the information out of you.”
The visual he got from the statement made his chest ache. She didn’t deserve an interrogation, but time had worn thin already. “Consider this a friendly gesture.”
“I don’t need any more friends,” she said, tilting her head up as he stood. Strong muscles bunched in her biceps and forearms, as if she’d tensed for battle. Her attention darted to the numerous exits in the apartment.
She was planning her escape.
He admired that. “If you think you can fight Rutler yourself, you’re living in a fairy tale.” Taigen stared down at her. “It’s like you don’t even know him.”
She met his gaze, her neck craned upward to keep him in her sights.
The realization hit hard.
“You really don’t know, do you?” He shook his head. Running his hands over his short hair, he tried to plan the next move. “We can’t stay here. If Rutler’s as connected as I think he is, then he already knows where you are and who you’re with. He’ll send someone here soon.” He turned his back on her, making a mental list of supplies. “We need to go off the grid.”
“My head is spinning.” Her soft voice slithered across his skin like a lover’s touch. “Do you have anything to eat?”
“Help yourself.” He gestured toward the small kitchen. “But make it fast.”
Torrhent kept her distance as she passed him, her eyes flickering toward the bandage on his left arm. “What is that from? You didn’t have it earlier.”
“Bullet. Won’t be a problem if that’s what you’re worried about.” The truth was, the bullet in his chest hurt far greater than the fresh hole in his arm, and Torrhent seemed to be the cause. She quickened his heartbeat with just a glance, made him inhale sharply when her scent hit his nostrils. Not entirely unpleasant either. Despite their differences, Taigen imagined he could get used to the type of excitement she elicited from him. Or was it just because she could lead him to his sister?
He strode into the bedroom to pack, burying th
e ideas popping into his head. They needed supplies for an extended trip. He didn’t know how long it would take to find Adelaide or how heavily trained the men were who had her. They might even know he was coming for them.
But none of it mattered.
She’d kill them all herself if he didn’t get to her first.
A hand landed on his shoulder. “Hey—”
Taigen’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest as he pushed the intruder up against the wall automatically. His training took over and he destabilized the threat with a quick sweep of their legs. Slamming against the floor, his victim exhaled in a rush, warm, sweet breath filling his lungs. A knife found home in his left hand and he pressed it against her throat. He hadn’t noticed she’d followed him in, too consumed with his bloodlust.
Torrhent’s eyes widened, fear shimmering in those gray depths.
After a few breaths, his thoughts cleared. It took him a second to realize he’d wrapped his fingers around her throat, and he pulled back quickly. Disgust slithered beneath his skin as he turned his back on her. He dropped the knife on the bed. Even after two years, his mind had kicked into old habits. He turned his attention back to the duffle bag on the bed. What the hell had he been thinking? “What do you need?”
“Wo-would it be okay if I shower?” She sidled into his peripheral vision.
Her movements suggested she rubbed at her throat and another pang of regret fluttered in his chest. Taigen only nodded in response. He didn’t trust his voice enough to answer, anxiety clawing its way up his throat. This girl held information he needed, but years of experience told him she wouldn’t give it up willingly. He had to be patient. Hell, he’d wine and dine her if it got her talking. From what he could surmise, however, she only needed a chance to feel human. She’d only demanded a shower thus far.
Disappearing into the bathroom, she closed the door behind her.
The sound of water hitting the bathtub filled his ears and the bathroom door lock clicked into place. A locked door wouldn’t keep him out, but Taigen needed her trust. He’d let her shower and get herself together. He’d let her eat. A woman her age appreciated things like that.
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