She grimaced, but her courage never faltered.
He wished he could say the same.
Goddammit. He was tired of people wanting this woman dead. He’d give everything he possessed to grab her in his arms and flee as fast and as far as possible.
“Ask another question,” she commanded.
Fane waited until the icy blue gaze turned in his direction.
“Who are you?”
“A soldier.” A cold smile. “Like you.”
Fane curled his lips. “You’re nothing like me.”
“Release me and let’s see who is the better fighter.”
“Who hired you?”
“I don’t know his name.”
“Wrong answer,” Fane retorted, pulling the wire just hard enough to slice through the first layers of skin.
“Wait, Fane.” Serra halted his fun. “He really doesn’t know.”
Fane instantly sensed the tension in her voice. “What do you see?”
“He was contacted by a third party.”
“Name?”
Her brows drew together, as if she were struggling to get a clear image.
“The Dark Side.”
“That’s a name?” Fane asked in confusion.
“A place,” she corrected. “An empty factory . . . I think.” She abruptly stiffened, her breath hissing between her teeth. “Damn.”
“What’s wrong?”
“He was blindfolded when he was picked up from his apartment,” Serra explained her annoyance. “He has no idea where it is.”
Fane muttered a curse, but he refused to be outsmarted by some mysterious kidnapper. There had to be a way to get to the person responsible for taking Molly.
“How were you contacted?” he abruptly demanded.
“There was a man,” the stalker said. Then, without warning a smile curved the man’s lips as his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell backward, dead as a fucking doornail.
“Shit,” he rasped, kneeling beside the startled Serra.
She yanked back her hands, her expression baffled. “What happened?”
“The trigger we were worried about wasn’t magical,” he admitted, furious at his stupid oversight. Reaching down, he shoved the man’s mouth open, his nose curling at the foul stench. “He had poison hidden in a false tooth,” he said in disgust, giving a shake of his head.
“Poison?” She sent him a startled glance. “Who does that besides cheesy characters from action movies?”
“Obviously this guy,” Fane muttered. He couldn’t have known the man had a suicide tooth. But that didn’t keep him from being pissed the man was dead. “He must have taken the poison as soon as he realized he wasn’t going to escape.”
Serra’s expression became distracted as her mind picked up an approaching danger.
“Someone’s coming,” she whispered.
Fane rose to his feet, picking up the unmistakable vibe of high-bloods approaching from the parking lot.
“Sentinels,” he said, knowing it had to be the two goons sent by Bas. They must have realized they’d left the apartment building and had come looking for them. The last thing he wanted was to get caught with the stalker. Bas would know exactly what they’d been up to. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What about the . . .” Serra’s words broke off as she straightened and waved a hand toward the corpse.
“He’s no doubt triggered to self-destruct,” Fane reminded her.
She shuddered, heading toward the door. “Convenient.”
Fane gave a last glare at the idiot hit man who’d denied him the knowledge he needed to protect Serra.
“Not really.”
Chapter Twenty
Bas’s neck ached from the afternoon spent at his computer.
He was familiar with the big names in illegal arms, and the businesses they used to whitewash their ill-gotten gains. Still, he’d nearly missed the bank transfers to a particularly nasty dealer south of the border. They’d been shifted through more than one business and labeled as payment for medical supplies. It was only because the name of the corporation caught his eye that he pulled up the account for closer inspection.
“What the hell?” he muttered, clicking through the bank accounts as Kaede crossed the floor of his office to glance over his shoulder.
“Have you found something?”
“I’ve tracked all these bank transfers to one account in Kansas City.”
“Kansas City?”
“Girard Import and Export.” Bas frowned. “Where have I heard that name?”
“It is familiar,” Kaede agreed.
Bas pulled up the information on the corporation, his breathing hissing between clenched teeth at the list of stockholders.
“Damn.”
Kaede instinctively reached to palm the handgun holstered at his lower back.
“What’s wrong?”
“The Brotherhood,” he rasped, his voice laced with disgust.
Kaede made a sound of surprise. “Do you think it’s possible?”
Bas frowned in confusion.
Did he?
Nearly fifty years ago, he’d stumbled across the secret organization.
It wasn’t the usual hate group filled with norms who needed someone to blame for their shitty lives. Or the unstable high-bloods who hated the fact they were mutants.
This organization was well funded, dangerously armed, and, most disturbing of all, they seemed to have the means to actually sense high-bloods.
A toxic combination.
Bas kept informal tabs on those he’d identified as part of the group, but since they seemed more interested in their own nasty politics within the organization, he’d done nothing to alert Valhalla to their presence.
If they ever became too dangerous, he’d decided to take care of them on his own.
Now he had to wonder if they’d grown tired of their in-fighting and decided to strike against him and his people.
“They’ve made a pledge to destroy high-bloods, but I assumed their tactics would be far less subtle,” he said slowly.
Kaede shrugged. “I agree. When I investigated them they seemed more interested in sweeping genocide rather than guerrilla warfare. Still, they’re one of the few groups crazy enough to sacrifice an innocent child.”
True. Bas had the sense that they were twisted enough to sacrifice their own mothers if they thought it would serve their greater purpose.
Morons.
Still, he remained unconvinced.
“But what would be the gain?”
Kaede considered for a long minute. “If they had control of Anna then they could prove to the world just how dangerous high-bloods are,” he at last suggested. “It could spark a civil war.”
Bas tapped a finger on his desk. “Maybe.”
“What?” Kaede prompted, clearly sensing Bas’s distraction.
“It doesn’t feel right.”
“Then maybe one of their members decided to go rogue,” Kaede offered.
“That’s a possibility,” Bas conceded. Greed was at the core of most atrocities committed by both norms and high-bloods. “Fanaticism might feed the soul, but it doesn’t buy you a Maserati.” Not a bad theory. So why did the doubt remain lodged in the center of his gut? He eventually hit on the obvious flaw. “But how would they know of Molly?”
Kaede straightened with a grimace. “A good question.”
There was a light tap on the door, interrupting their conversation.
Bas shut down the computer before pressing a button on the desk that released the lock.
“Enter,” he commanded.
The door was shoved open to reveal two Sentinels. The first to step into the room was Aldo, a large, bulky man with blond hair buzzed next to his skull and pale eyes that sparkled with more enthusiasm than intelligence. The second man, Damis, was Aldo’s exact opposite. A small man with a slender body and dark narrow face, he had black hair smoothed into a tail, and deep brown eyes that glowed with a ruthles
s intelligence.
They were both dressed in the standard uniform of jeans and T-shirts, but Damis had a diamond stud in one ear and a spider-web tat on the side of his neck.
“Well?” Bas demanded, rising to his feet.
“The psychic and her guardian have returned to the hotel,” Damis said.
Bas studied his warriors, knowing they wouldn’t have bothered to check in unless they had something to report.
“Did they discover anything?”
Damis spoke for both of them. Aldo wasn’t much for conversations. Not if they had to include more than grunts.
“They claim they didn’t.”
Bas moved around the desk. “But you suspect otherwise?”
“When we arrived at the first apartment building they disappeared for longer than it should have taken to search the place.”
Bas was instantly alert. Had they been meeting with someone from Valhalla?
“Did you follow them?”
“Of course.” Damis’s lips thinned. “We’d just tracked them to an abandoned shed when they took off in your car.”
“What happened?”
“We followed them until they’d searched the rest of the addresses and returned to the hotel.”
Bas wasn’t impressed. He paid his employees an obscene salary because he demanded complete loyalty and because they were very, very good at what they did.
“That’s it?” he demanded.
“No, we returned to the shed to see if we could find any clue as to why they’d been in there.”
Ah. Now they were getting somewhere.
“Did you find anything?”
The Sentinel reached into his back pocket to remove a shattered Taser.
“This.”
Bas held out his hand, allowing Damis to dump the pieces of plastic and electronics into his palm.
“What the hell?” He frowned as he realized his first impression had been wrong. This wasn’t a Taser. It was far, far more dangerous. He lifted his head to meet Damis’s dark gaze. “It’s a broken mind-stunner. How did it get in the shed?”
“We think the guardian and psychic must have followed someone in there and overpowered them,” Damis answered, although Aldo managed a nod of agreement. “Probably a hit man.”
“But why . . .” Bas snapped his teeth together. Shit. He didn’t have to ask why Fane would have wanted to get his hands on the hit man. And why he hadn’t wanted Bas to know that he’d spoken with the enemy. “That son of a bitch,” he growled, headed for the door. “Kaede, get the car.”
It hadn’t been Wolfe’s best day.
Driving a Jeep with the windows down along the dusty road in one hundred plus degree temperatures would be at the bottom of anyone’s list of fun things to do.
Add in his acute awareness that he had the safety of the leader of all high-bloods in his hands, and it wasn’t any wonder his head was beginning to ache.
Then again, it wasn’t his worst day.
He’d once spent an entire afternoon being skinned by his uncle who believed he had a demon inside him.
Hard to top that.
They’d traveled several hours in silence when Wolfe brought the vehicle to a halt, his senses on full alert.
“Here,” he murmured.
Lana peered out the open window, searching the flat, desolate ground with occasional corn fields and even more occasional groves of trees for some sign of danger.
“Do you sense something?”
Wolfe put the Jeep in park, then, leaning back in his seat, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the hot breeze swirling through the vehicle.
He ignored the familiar scents of dry grass and choking dust and the less familiar stench of a distant oil well. And even the occasional whiff of horse dung. Despite the fact it was the twenty-first century, there were still a surprising amount of local ranchers who not only bred and raised horses, but used them as their preferred form of transportation.
It was less difficult to ignore the intoxicating hint of vanilla that teased at his senses.
He had an almost irresistible urge to lean sideways so he could bury his face in the curve of his companion’s neck and suck in the delicate scent.
Thankfully, he wasn’t in the mood to be hit by some nasty spell that might give him boils in sensitive places or make him think he was the Queen of England.
Two things quite possible when you ticked off a witch.
Finally locating the scent that had first caught his attention, he concentrated on the swiftly fading clues.
“There was more than one high-blood in this area.”
“How do you know?” Lana demanded.
He opened his eyes, glancing at her with his usual arrogance.
“I’m a Sentinel.”
“Hmm.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you want to get out?”
“Yes.”
Together they climbed out of the Jeep, Wolfe following the footprints toward a circle of rocks while the Mave studied the hazy horizon. Her natural telepathy allowed her to detect if there were any human minds within a mile or two radius.
She was better than any scout he could have brought with him, although he’d be damned if he’d admit it.
Confident when she remained silent that there weren’t any hidden enemies, Wolfe concentrated on the distinct signs of recent activities.
Circling the rocks, he squatted down to touch the scorched earth.
“There was someone camped here.”
Lana made one last mental sweep of the empty landscape before turning to join him.
“How recent?”
“Within hours.”
She nodded, her brows pulling together as she held up a hand. Wolfe straightened, sensing her sudden tension.
“What is it?”
A faint shiver shook her body. “Magic.”
Wolfe pulled his gun. Not that it would do a damn thing against magic. But he felt better with it in his hands.
“A trap?” he asked.
“No.” She lowered her hand, but the frown remained. “Residue.”
Wolfe had heard that there were a few spells that contained enough magic to linger long after the caster had released them. The thought had always sent a chill down his spine.
“And you can still feel it?”
She nodded. “It was a powerful spell.”
Wolfe straightened, glancing around the remote area. There couldn’t be many reasons for a group of high-bloods to be here. And even fewer reasons for a witch to waste her energy on a spell that was powerful enough it could linger for hours.
“Can you recognize what it was?”
“A binding spell.”
Wolfe studied her pale, beautiful face in confusion. “To hold someone against their will?”
“Or to keep them in stasis.”
Ah. That made sense if Anna had been with them.
“You believe it might be the high-blood we’re searching for?” he asked.
She grimaced. “I’m afraid it might be.”
Wolfe swallowed a sigh of resignation. Of course the blackout had to be caused by a high-blood who had the potential to destroy the entire electrical grid.
It couldn’t possibly have been the result of a squirrel getting into the transformer.
He shoved away the inane thought. Nothing mattered now but locating Anna and halting whatever nefarious scheme Bas had going.
“Why would they come to this location?”
Lana glanced in his direction, but her expression remained distracted.
“What do you mean?”
Wolfe waved a hand toward the emptiness that surrounded them. There was an unmistakable beauty in the stark landscape, but it wasn’t prime terrorist territory.
“There’s no nuclear power plants in the area,” he said. “No multimillion-dollar bank. No large airport. What would be the target?”
“I don’t know.”
Wolfe paced toward the edge of the road, feeling oddly restless. Was it the lingering
spell? Or just an unwanted premonition of bad things to come?
“If Bas is behind this he has to have a reason for bringing Anna here,” he pointed out.
Lana made a sound of disgust. “The only thing that motivates him is power.”
Okay. So what the hell would a megalomaniac gain by bringing a potential time bomb to this place at this time?
He was shifting through the various possibilities while his gaze studied the footprints that remained clearly outlined in the loose dust.
Abruptly he realized that there had been more people at the campsite than he’d originally suspected. As well as a heavy wagon being pulled by at least two horses.
“There are at least four separate footprints here,” he muttered, wondering if there was more to Anna’s reappearance in the world after so many years of being hidden. “Is it possible she was stolen from Bas?”
“I suppose so.” The Mave sounded even less convinced by his suggestion than he felt.
Wolfe grimaced, trying to imagine himself as the kidnapper with a priceless treasure he’d just stolen. It wasn’t hard. He’d been one of the most feared criminals in the Middle East before he’d been taken in by the monks.
It didn’t take long to pinpoint a major flaw in his theory.
“But if they’re on the run, why would they expose their location by knocking out the power for a fifty-mile radius?”
“It could have been accidental.”
Caught off guard by Lana’s soft words, he turned to face her. “Accidental?”
“They must have been stopped here for several hours if I can feel the residue of the spell,” she explained. “Without a stable cell around Anna, she would have swiftly started causing damage.”
He met her steady gaze. “So this particular spot might just have been a pit stop?”
“Yes.”
Which meant they weren’t any closer to knowing who had Anna or why she was being used to black out small towns in the middle of nowhere.
“Great.”
Lana remained as cool and unflappable as ever, but the pale green eyes held a concern she couldn’t entirely disguise.
“Can you track them?”
If anyone else had asked the question Wolfe would have slugged them for doubting his skills. He was one of the finest trackers in the world.
Lana, however, wasn’t insulting his talent as a Sentinel.
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