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“We need to call 911.” Aiden started to rise.

Emmaline opened her eyes and clutched Aiden’s hand. “I’m fine.” Her voice came out in a croak. “But he has Dana.”

Fury and fear duked it out in Aiden’s gut. He stared at Jace over Emmaline’s head. “We’ve got to figure out where Morgan might have taken her.”

“Morgan? I thought his name was Tony.”

Aiden dipped his focus to Emmaline. “Who are you talking about?”

“Tony. Dana’s assistant.” Emmaline struggled to a sitting position. “He’s the one who put this bump on my noggin, after he shot the suit up on the hill.”

Her pronouncement sent shock and dread racing along Aiden’s spine. He glanced toward Jace. “Why don’t you go check things on the hill while I get her to the car?”

Jace took off and Aiden braced his arm on Emmaline’s back, helping her stand. She wobbled slightly but managed the walk to the Navigator fine. By the time he assisted her into the passenger seat Jace came tearing back down the hill. Aiden took one look at his brother’s greenish pallor and knew whatever Jace had witnessed wasn’t a pretty sight.

“It’s Morgan.”

“Dead?”

“As a doornail.”

Under the circumstances, Aiden couldn’t find it in himself to feel any sadness over Morgan Kinnit’s passing. He buckled Emmaline into the seat belt and inspected the status of her wound. “Bleeding seems to be slowing down.”

Emmaline made a snorting sound. “No little gash is going to do me in. I’m too hardheaded. Runs in the family.” She reached up and squeezed Aiden’s hand. “My niece has finally seen the light about what’s important. Don’t let it be too late.”

“We’ll find her.” Forcing bravado he didn’t feel, he slammed the door shut.

Dana wiggled against the backseat of Tony’s station wagon, trying not to wince at the rough scrape of the thick ropes binding her wrists and ankles to the bar beneath her back. Tony released one hand from the steering wheel and swung his arm in her direction. She froze. He dug a scruffy ball cap from the mesh sack strapped to the rear of his seat and slapped it onto his head. The breath she’d been holding trickled free.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to get you away by yourself?”

“I, uh, didn’t think I was your type.”

He frowned at her in the rearview mirror. Apparently getting the gist of her meaning, he chuckled. “Oh, you still think I’m gay. Sometimes I forget what a great role player I am. Best in the west, baby.”

What the hell was he talking about?

“And I tell you what, investing in that GPS tracker I affixed to your hunk-a-junk was the best decision I ever made. Worth every penny.”

So that’s how he’d known she was at the cemetery. Little weasel. “Pretty hypocritical making fun of POC when you’re driving around in this rust bucket.”

“Dolph is not a rust bucket! He’s a classic ’72 Pinto station wagon. You should feel privileged to ride in him.”

Dolph? “Yeah, me and the family of rats living under this seat are overjoyed.”

“Shut up, bitch.”

His crude language only infuriated her more, and planted a seed of suspicion in her mind. “You’re the vandal, aren’t you?”

“Ding, ding, ding. Give that woman a prize.”

She glared at the back of Tony’s head. “I liked you better when you were gay.”

He slammed on the brake suddenly and she hit the metal bar with a hard bounce. Biting back a moan, she listened to his tuneless whistle as he climbed from the car and yanked open the door facing her. Outside, she spotted trees and pretty much nothing else. Tony walked away and she worked her fingers over the knot around the bar. The sound of something being wheeled across gravel drifted to her ears and she redoubled her efforts. Tony reappeared and grabbed her legs. She tried kicking him off but the bindings made it impossible. He loosened the ties anchoring her to the bar. Hefting her from the seat like a sack of potatoes, he scooted sideways and dropped her inside a wheelbarrow. She sneezed at the dust stirring up.

Tony grabbed the wheelbarrow handles and carted her toward a small, dilapidated shack nestled in the woods. Her heart thundering at what he planned to do to her, she scanned the surroundings, looking for an escape route.

“I wouldn’t if I were you. I’ve got traps set all over these woods. Don’t think you’d enjoy getting your leg snapped in two.”

“You’re a real sick fucker.”

“Nah. Just protecting my investment.”

“Enough with the cryptic comments. Tell me why I’m here.”

“Patience. You’ll discover the true scope of my genius in due time.”

“Oh man, you really are a walking advertisement for electroshock therapy, aren’t ya?”

Tony halted outside the shack. He swung open the rickety door and propped it open with a rock before coming back for the wheelbarrow. Battery-powered lights hung from the rafters of the shack, illuminating the gloomy interior. Tony wheeled her toward a beanbag chair wedged in the corner and dumped her onto it in an unceremonious heap. Grabbing her bound wrists, he secured her to the shackle affixed to the wall. He straightened and strode back to the doorway.

She stared after him, her heart pounding like a runaway freight train. “W-what are you going to do to me?”

“I told you, you’ll find out soon enough.” His hand closed on the door handle and he turned to give her a chilling smile. “I’ll come back and get you when it’s show time.”

He shut the door, and the slide of a bolt announced he’d locked her in with only her terrified thoughts for company.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Aiden’s boots rang across the gallery’s floor as he hoofed it to Dana’s office. Careening around her desk, he wrenched the drawer open and pawed through the papers, hoping against hope he’d find some record of Tony’s address. A few minutes later, Jace and Emmaline entered the office.

“Anything?” Aiden demanded. They shook their heads and the anchor suspended to his heart hit bottom. He’d known the chances of finding anything were slim. According to Emmaline, Dana had only taken Tony on as her assistant two weeks ago, and to complicate matters more, he worked as an intern. Meaning no luck finding a paycheck stub with an address.

“What’s the deal with this dude anyway?” Jace paced in front of the desk. “Has he developed a twisted obsession with Dana or is he after us?”

“I vote for him being a hunter,” Emmaline said with a decisive nod that made her wince. Patting her bandage, she continued. “That boy had one hell of a fancy rifle and he took out the dragon in the suit from probably several hundred yards away.” She shivered. “It’s a miracle neither Dana nor I got caught in the crossfire.”

The potential of that happening drove a cold spike of fury through Aiden’s stomach. He shoved away from the desk. A shrill ring came from the phone resting near one of the stacks of papers he’d rifled through. They all froze.

Breaking from his stupor, Aiden grabbed for the phone. “Hello?”

“Didn’t have much luck finding my address?”

Aiden gripped the handle of the phone in a vise hold. “If you hurt her, so help me God you’ll pray for me to kill you fast.”

“Will you?”

“What do you think?” Aiden’s tone dripped with silky menace.

“I knew you’d be the perfect opponent.”

“This isn’t a fucking game.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. It’s the biggest game of all.” Tony chortled like an excited schoolboy. “Let’s see how smart of a player you are. There’s something waiting for you at the Purple Pelican, room 11. Better hurry.”