“Forget about the car. Let’s go.”
“Tell me you didn’t shoot them. You just scared them off, right?”
The whites of her eyes flashed with anger and she smacked him alongside the head with the palm of her hand. “Those guys are the same kind of guys who killed Dad. Now get your ass on the bike.”
“Jesus, Kenzie.” Both his ears vibrated painfully under the too-tight helmet.
What the hell did this have to do with their father? He’d never seen his normally calm and sensible sister act like this. He couldn’t believe she actually hit him, he thought as he climbed on behind her.
“Hang on.” Dragging her inside foot, she cranked the throttle and leaned into a sharp turn. He did his best to lean with her.
Surprised to see the Jeep idling in the middle of the driveway, Corey could just make out a figure crouched over the steering wheel. And in that instant, he realized she did shoot them. Mackenzie actually fucking shot that guy.
“Don’t look, Corey. Keep your eyes straight ahead.”
Thank God, the guy was moving as they drove past. At least the dude wasn’t dead. They could go and figure out?—
Mackenzie’s back slammed into his chest and the bike skidded to a stop. What the hell? His head, heavy from the helmet, cracked against hers.
A dark figure dressed in an ankle-grazing trench coat filled the driveway in front of them. Mackenzie patted the pocket of her leather coat, but it was too late.
Without seeing him move, the man suddenly appeared next to the bike, towering over them. Corey couldn’t make out any of his features, but the dude’s breath—or maybe something on his clothes—smelled rank and coppery, like blood. Corey’s easily activated gag reflex made him choke, and he tasted barf in the back of his throat.
Mackenzie cranked the throttle, but the man grabbed the handlebars. The engine revved high in protest, the tires squealed on the pavement, but they remained immobile. No way. How was that even possible?
“Stupid bitch,” the man growled. “Think you’re clever with those silver bullets?” With one hand, he held the bike still and with the other, he twirled a gun, Mackenzie’s gun, on his forefinger.
In one swift movement, he snatched them off the bike and dragged them along the pavement to the Jeep as if they were rag dolls. Corey tried to keep his feet under him, but he ended up being dragged on his knees over the asphalt. By the time they reached the vehicle, both pant legs had ripped, and it felt as if a layer of his skin covered the driveway. His hands and knees stung with embedded bits of gravel.
Mackenzie hadn’t fared much better. From what he could see in the pale light, her hands were raw and bleeding, too. He half-expected to hear her whimpering, but that sister of his was tough.
Their captor threw them on the floor of the Jeep and handcuffed them to the back of the seat. Mackenzie shoved her body against his until he was jammed tightly against the side, as if to shield him. Corey heard the stomp of the man’s boots, a metallic click— shit! a knife?— and then a dull thud right before the man climbed into the Jeep alone. Shivering, Corey managed to pull off the helmet with his free hand.
“You okay?” she mouthed in his ear.
Not able to form any words, he simply nodded.
“I’m sorry, my love,” she whispered.
How bizarre, Corey thought. She’d never called him that before.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Mackenzie’s fear rushed through Dom like a flash flood. He stretched out his senses, trying to get something more from her—thoughts, a mental picture of what she was seeing, something concrete like he had before. But there was nothing. All he felt was her emotion. And even that was faint.
He roared out his frustration inside the armored SUV, pounding his fists on the dashboard. His enemies had her. She was frightened and scared. And here he was trapped on a goddamn ferry in the middle of Puget Sound. His only hope was that her attackers were taking her to the testing facility. That would buy him more time. If their intent was to drain her like they normally did...
By the time the ferry docked a half-hour later, a cold rage had settled into the marrow of his bones. He didn’t give a shit about protocol or laws—vampire or human. No matter what it took, he’d find Mackenzie and destroy everyone responsible for her capture with his bare hands.
He vaguely remembered hearing brakes screeching and horns honking as he raced through the Seattle streets to the old high school. But when he saw Corey’s car and the weak, almost-dead-battery glow of the headlights, his heart sank even deeper into the pit of his gut. With her motorcycle lying in the driveway, there went his last hope that she had escaped the Darkbloods and was simply hiding out somewhere.
Mackenzie, where are you?
He pressed his fingers to his temples and stilled his breath, worried he might miss the subtlest of signs. Faint chills of panic—her panic—coursed through him. Their bond was too weak to pick up anything more.
He grabbed his cell phone. “Lily, talk to me. Tell me you’ve heard something. They’ve definitely got Mackenzie.”
“Oh, Dom, I’m so sorry. I’ve been texting my contact to see if he knows anything more, but I haven’t heard back from him yet. Security within the Alliance is tight, but he promised to get ahold of me as soon as he heard something new. But that was days ago. And I’m worried, too, Dom. He’s…he’s risking his life. If they find out that he’s been a mole inside the Alliance for years, they’ll kill him.”
