The darkness was her enemy and her friend. It made it difficult to see, difficult to avoid the low-hanging branches that smacked at her face, the vines that reached out like greedy hands to grab her legs.
She could only hope it made seeing her as difficult for Eugenia and the men.
She tripped and was compelled to look back even though she knew it would slow her down. It did her no good. She couldn’t see a thing. She could only hear the rush of footsteps somewhere behind her, the patter of shoes against fallen leaves, an occasional shout as one of her pursuers called out to the others.
Finally, her lungs burning, she looked for a place to hide. She didn’t know how much stamina Eugenia, Jean-Philip, and Herve had, but it was probably more than she had, with her arms tied and her brain still muddled. The rope on her wrists felt looser than it had before. Maybe if she stopped running she could free her hands.
She spotted a possibility in a large oak, its branches stretching toward the night sky. The tree itself offered minimal coverage, but there were a few large, moss-covered rocks near its base.
Her legs were tired, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stepped over the wildflower bush growing around it. The biggest rock stood about two feet from the base of the tree. Claire dropped to the ground, resting her back against the tree’s massive trunk and lowering her head below the top of the rock. From her vantage point, all she could see was the flowering bush that surrounded her. She would have to hope the same was true from the other side.
She couldn’t hear Eugenia and the others. She used the time to test the confines of the rope around her wrists, wondering if it had been her imagination that it wasn’t as tight.
But no. The rope was looser. She wriggled her hands back and forth, feeling the rope give a little more with each movement. A couple minutes later it dropped off her hands. She almost shouted with relief as she rubbed her wrists where the rope had cut into her skin.
Finally free, she attempted to quiet her raspy breathing as she listened for the sound of her pursuers in the distance. She was shaking, her teeth almost rattling, from fear. If her breathing didn’t give her away, her chattering teeth just might.
Stop it, she ordered herself. If you want to get out of this alive, you have to pull yourself together.
A few seconds later, she heard them coming, their footsteps rustling through the undergrowth. Their approach seemed to grow more careful as they neared, and Claire froze, wondering if she’d left some kind of evidence that she was in the vicinity, if they could somehow see her behind the rock.
Someone crashed through the trees to her right, stopping a few feet in front of the oak tree, close enough that Claire could hear the person breathing. She peered through the bushes, catching sight of a pair of athletic shoes. Had to be Jean-Philip or Herve. Eugenia was wearing sandals.
She let her eyes roam the ground without turning her head, afraid to make even the slightest sound. With one of her pursuers standing in front of her, she needed to get a lock on the other two. If she was spotted, she would have to make a run for it, and she didn’t want to crash into them on her way out.
Finally, she caught sight of Eugenia, standing in a patch of moonlight to the left of the person she now realized was Jean-Philip. Both were very still, their heads tipped, eyes alert as if they sensed her nearby.
Two down, one to go.
Claire swept her gaze across the area in front of her. Where was Herve? Had he stayed at the car? Or was he lurking somewhere nearby?
She wondered if he was behind her, if maybe he was watching her at that very minute. She tried to resist the urge to look, but the longer she sat, Eugenia and Jean-Philip still only feet away, the more convinced she became that there was someone watching her.
When she couldn’t stand it a second more, she turned her head, shifting slightly to see behind her. A twig snapped under her body. She froze, hoping it hadn’t been as loud as it had seemed. But when she swiveled her head back around, Eugenia was already moving forward, her eyes locked on Claire’s, even through the darkness.
Claire rose to a standing position, stumbling over the rock as she moved away from the tree. She looked back. Eugenia and Jean-Philip were only steps away.
Pushing herself up off the ground, she moved around the tree and made a run for it. She could still get away. Still find another hiding place.
She only got a few steps when she came up against something hard and unmoving.
A vise-like grip came down around her left arm. She only had a minute to look into Herve’s eyes, devoid of any emotion, before something came down over head.
THIRTY
She didn’t know what covered her face. It might have been a jacket or a bag. Whatever it was, it blocked out any and all light.
No one said a word after Herve grabbed her. He held her arm tightly, forcing her to move through the forest quickly, the darkness disorienting and terrifying. She stumbled and fell more than once. Each time, Herve yanked her to her feet, hauling her through the forest like she was nothing but a rag doll.
She smelled the road before they came to it. Hot asphalt and motor oil.
Then they were climbing up the embankment she had slid down when she’d made her escape. She knew they’d reached the top when her bare feet came down not on dirt and twigs and leaves but on the warm smooth surface of road.
Tears stung the backs of her eyelids as her terror grew. She wanted her mother with her sure voice and soft hands. Her father with his easy smile. Xander, who would never let anything bad happen to her if it was within his power to stop it. Sasha and even Allegra, who made her realize she wasn’t as alone as she’d once thought.
They were almost back to the car. Once they had her inside, the doors locked, she was as good as dead.
A car door opened, and a second later she was shoved carelessly forward, her face and knees hitting the leather seat before she was able to right herself. She caught a whiff of familiar cologne as Herve scooted in next to her, his grip tight on her arm.
The car doors shut, and the engine roared to life. There was a moment of silence before Eugenia’s voice drifted through the blackness.
“That was stupid.” Her voice was terrifyingly calm. “We could have made it less painful for you, you know.”
The car lurched forward.
Claire lost all sense of time while they drove. Herve’s hand remained around her arm, the covering still on her head. She was dimly aware that it was some kind of psychological ploy to head off another attempt at escape.
Keeping her disoriented and in the dark made her more complacent.
After a while—it could have been minutes or an hour—the car began to slow. Claire heard it in the engine, a subtle easing off of the gas.
They seemed to veer to the left, and the car left the asphalt, the tires crunching over gravel or rocky dirt. The ground was bumpy. Claire had to use her free hand to keep her body from hitting the door or ceiling of the car.
She was starting to feel motion sick when the car slowed to a stop. The engine was turned off and a second later, Eugenia spoke.
“Take off the hood.”
It was instinct to shrink away from the hands that grazed her shoulders, despite the fact that she wanted to be able to see. The covering on her face was ripped off with a harsh tug.
Claire blinked, looking around rapidly, trying to get her bearings.
Eugenia was staring at her from the front seat, Herve still beside her in the back. She could see the back of Jean-Philip’s head in the front passenger seat. He didn’t bother turning around.