Wicked Deeds on a Winter’s Night (Immortals After Dark #4)(53)
Author: Kresley Cole

Not an animal. As she slowly stood and turned, she recognized that these weren’t locals. These were bad guys, three of them with machine guns aimed at her face.

In her present mood that equaled: Why, I believe I’ll turn them into frogs! Just as she reached for the mirror in her pocket, they cocked their weapons.

The oldest man was clearly the leader, and his tone was deadly when he said, "Your hands on your head – or I’ll put a bullet into it." He didn’t have a thick accent. These must be the international narco-terrorists, the ones who made the cartel look mild. So much for the mirror’s judgment.

Unless this was still better than Bowen.

Before she could even get close to working a spell, one soldier had a gun barrel shoved against her temple. She’d thought it would be cold, but it was uncomfortably warm.

Fear shivered through her, and she raised her hands. As the soldier bound them behind her with plastic ties like the ones the NOPD used, she said, "You have no idea what a mistake you’re making – there are people who will be a shade irate about this abduction."

"We have never heard that from a hostage," the second soldier said as they started away. With a rough grip on her upper arm, he hauled her from the water, yanking her uphill and then down the next rise. She struggled against him, trying to think of some way to convince them to free her.

"For all you know, I could be CIA or DEA," she said when she heard an engine idling. Their vehicle was near – which meant the road had been close.

"Too young," the first lackey said. "You look like a lost environmentalist."

When they arrived at their army green truck, she resisted getting in the back. "Why haven’t you asked me about my information?" she demanded. The man simply shoved her up into the truck bed, banging her knee so hard her eyes watered.

"Why would we?" the leader asked in an unctuous tone.

Her brows drew together as everything became clear. They weren’t going to ransom her – at least, not at first. They were going to keep her. The thought made her retch into her mouth. She had to get her hands free.

Once the truck started down rutted roads, she determined that they were taking her right back in MacRieve’s direction. "Listen to me, the only way you are going to live through the night is to release me this instant." She could already see the moon faint but full in the daytime sky. A portentous reminder. "You can’t even conceive of what you’re bringing down on yourself." They ignored her, having no idea that they were basically dragging bait back to their base.

She knew MacRieve would come for her, but that was the other half of the problem. She didn’t want to be a sitting duck tonight.

When they reached a camouflaged outpost, the three hauled her from the truck though she fought them. After dragging her inside, they forced her down deep into a bunker, leading her into tunnels in the earth. Cold and dark. Fancy that.

One tunnel had a line of cells, all with solid steel doors, as if bomb-proofed. In fact, everything in this place seemed to be so. One of the men punched a code into a keypad, and an adjoining door slid open. The other soldier shoved her into a barren cell, with only a cot and a toilet within. She inanely remembered Carrow calling jail two hots and a cot.

"You have to untie me."

"You’re in no position to make demands," the leader said. "Best accept your lot and prepare yourself for tonight."

"What’s my lot?"

"It’s very simple. We were out provisioning," he explained, raking her with his gaze, "and you are a provision." He turned to the doorway.

"Then there’s nothing I can do for you," she murmured. "I vow you won’t survive past midnight. And your last sight before you die will make you relieved to go."

One soldier laughed nervously. The second lackey scowled. The leader turned in a flash and backhanded her, his heavy ring catching her temple when she tried to duck. The force sent her spinning to the ground. Hands still bound behind her, she landed on her face.

Struggling to her knees, she wiped her temple on her shoulder. When she saw the blood, she cast him an evil smile. "You’re going to die extra bad for that."

At dusk, Bowe couldn’t resist the pull of his female any longer. Her scent was still in the jungle – she hadn’t made it to the city and a flight out. Though he fought with everything he was, he felt himself changing direction, retracing his earlier footfalls to her.

He’d never run so fast… no, there’d been one other time…

He shook off that memory. Mariketa’s tantalizing scent called to him and nothing else mattered. Acres of treacherous terrain passed effortlessly beneath his feet. Just a mile or so more till he found her. Closer. He could tell she was near… yards away now, directly up the stream bank.

He jerked to a stop when he reached her scent.

She wasn’t here.

He’d locked onto her bag, her clothes. So where in the hell was she? Her canteen lay off to the side – she’d never leave her boiled water. Other odors came to him – human males laden with aggression, gun oil, cigarettes. He sighted boot prints in the mud. Over the next rise were tire tracks. Soldiers had abducted her.

And Bowe knew why. His claws sank into his palms.

He barely detected another scent. Her fear.

– Punish them. –

They’d taken his female, frightened his vulnerable mate. Turning… already.

He would slaughter them, every one.

With a roar of fury, he let the beast free.

39

He’d come.

Mari knew when gunfire began to echo in the tunnels of the bunker. Men barked orders with authority, and machine guns popped in concentrated waves.

Yet soon the organized defense became erratic. The commands devolved into… screams.

These humans – along with herself – were trapped down in the earth with a monster. He’d begun to kill, and she could do nothing but wait with dread. With her hands still bound behind her, she rocked forward and back on the cot.

His onslaught of violence seemed to keep beat with the heavy drum of her heart. She heard hardened men yell out in terror before the sound gurgled from their slashed throats.

Had MacRieve used his teeth or claws?

Would she scream at the sight of him?

"Dios mío!" one soldier gritted out. Chills coursed through her when she heard another weeping – before being instantly silenced.

A split second after a wild clap of machine gun fire, an explosion sounded and the electricity flared. When the overhead light sparked and burst into fragments, she shrieked in the sudden blackness.

From somewhere out in the tunnels came his answering bellow of rage.

She swallowed with fear. Moments later red emergency lights hummed on. When she saw that chunks of glass had fallen out of the light cage above, she backed to the biggest piece, crouching down to collect it with her bound hands. Then she began clumsily sawing at the tie.