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If they had the phone, then they knew she’d been in contact with Olcan’s people. They’d be in a hurry to get her as far away from them as possible. She wondered what Olcan had in store for her. She’d be in a cargo hold on a plane or boat back to Ireland if he intended to deal with her himself, or he’d come here, do what he wanted to her and either end her or worse, sell her to people who’d do his dirty work for him after they’d had their fun.
Niamh knew how his business worked. Sean had told her, and that was the real reason he’d never let her just walk away. She realized that now. Even if she’d given him the McNallys on a silver plate, she knew too much to not be a threat to him. How she could have ever believed he had any intention of handing out her freedom was beyond her now. She should have started trying to run the moment she’d touched down in America.
She knew she wasn’t on the plane or boat yet from the way the floor beneath her shook and thumped. It definitely wasn’t a train, and there was no light coming through the holes above her. Even if it were a windowless van like the one the man had taken her in, there should be some light from the front, from the sun if it were still daylight and from traffic and such if it were night. She was guessing she was in the back of a transit vehicle, a pup truck, or a semi.
If that were the case, it likely meant that Sorley didn’t have her yet. She was in transit to him, but where? Was he here in the States or would she be traveling further? Did it really matter? She was headed toward a tough time, wherever she was going. She was surprised when less than three hours later, she felt the vehicle pulling off the road and stopping, some sort of gravel crunching beneath the wheels. She wondered if it was a pitstop or their destination but didn’t have to wonder long.
“Get her out and into the back entrance. Put her in the store room and get that lock off before he gets here. Hurry up,” a man said.
It wasn’t Sorley or any of his men. This man was American, and he wasn’t a bear, but he was something. She could smell it, not only from him, but from at least several of them, the same scent but with varying subtleties. They were shifters, just not bear shifters. The scent was familiar, but her fuzzy brain couldn’t quite place it. She could only assume they were some of Sorley’s American contacts.
“Can you hear me in there?” the man asked as they hauled her out of the back of the vehicle and began carrying her. She stayed quiet. She didn’t know who she was dealing with here and would much rather play dead to put them off their game. This was it. She prepared herself to shift the moment they opened that box, get the jump on them. They’d likely tear her apart, but if she was going to die, it might as well be fighting, and it might as well be today.
“I hope she’s still alive. He’s going to be pissed when he arrives if she’s not,” someone else said.
There was no reply. Instead, the box bounced up and down as they hurriedly carried it to wherever the storeroom they’d mentioned was located. She felt herself being set down on the floor and steeled herself for the opening of the box.
“Did you get the bolt cutters?” the first man asked.
“Yeah. Sid brought them over before we got here,” he said.
“All right, let’s open her up.”
Niamh gathered all her strength and waited for the right moment. She heard the loud metallic sound of the lock being cut and removed and then what sounded like latches being opened. The lid began to move. No more time to wait. She began shifting, literally bursting out of the box in bear form.
There were about six men standing around waiting, now all of them moved back and stared at her, but none attempted to shift into anything. Why? Why were they all just gawking at her? She hesitated, confused by their retreat. They didn’t appear afraid, just surprised, and as they accepted what she’d done, it seemed to be more amusement than it was any fear.
“That was quite a party trick,” one of them said, the rest laughing.
“Shifter version of a hot chick popping out of a cake,” someone else added.
“Show some respect, guys. Don’t forget who she is,” one of them barked at them. She was guessing he was the leader of their little party.
Niamh took a few steps toward them, growling. It didn’t exactly gather the response she expected. She heard a door open just outside the room they were in, and the man she’d heard speak earlier spoke from behind her, “We’re in here. You might want to hurry. She’s awake, and she’s, uh, angry.”
