Page 26 of Relentless Touch

The kitchen had been clean. Exceptionally cleaned. Even the baseboards had been scrubbed. He smelled the citrus-scented of floor cleaner, and the lingering remnants of tonight’s special—roasted chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and yeast from the dinner rolls Rio always made from scratch.

Kevin had eaten two helpings, chatting with the kitchen staff, and pitching in to help before anyone asked. The entire time Rio had been in the room with Kevin, his mate had worn a happy little smile.

So where were Kevin and Kenai? Rio tried to call his mate, but it went straight to voicemail. The same happened with Kenai’s.

Both dish racks sat dry, and empty. The towel Kenai always left flopped over the faucet was gone, and so were the half-spoiled sodas he used to bribe new hires. Even the energy drink can Kenai had been raving about was missing, and if he’d left the building without it, that meant something had thrown him.

Rio performed a quick check of the dining area and bar. Empty. Chairs turned up on tables, the bar dark, nothing out of place.

Pivoting, Rio headed back toward the kitchen, slowing when he noticed the side door slightly ajar.

As he reached for the handle, a scent curled up from under the door. Wolf.

Underneath, just at the edge of it, a faint trace of impala.

Rio’s hands clenched.

A quick check of the side lot told him nothing. Night air breezed past him and slipped through the trees behind restaurant. Kenai’s car was parked toward the back, Rio’s truck two spaces down.

He circled once, searching for any sign of movement. No laughter. No shouting. Just more silence.

Rio pivoted, returning to the restaurant, then took the back stairs up to the office two at a time.

Security cameras. There had to be something. He jabbed the screen and pulled up four angles installed in the exits and the alley.

The screen flickered. The first view showed an empty kitchen. He switched to another camera, moving slowly through the footage.

There.

Motion in the alley. A tall silhouette, bigger than Rio, moving with intent. The figure kept to the shadows, just outside the streetlight’s reach. Then he turned and leaned against the van. For a brief second, the camera angle caught the bastard’s face.

Ameer.

That unhurried tilt to his head. The way he glanced at the camera and smiled, all teeth and cockiness. He looked amused, as if abducting people at midnight was his favorite pastime.

Rio’s pulse hammered in his ears.

He watched, helpless to do anything about it. Two minutes passed. The side door of the van eased open. Kenai stepped into the alley, keys in one hand and that usual can in the other. Kevin followed, hoodie zipped high despite the warm night.

Ameer lunged, catching Kenai by the neck and yanking him backward out of the cameras frame. Kevin spun around, clearly panicked. Another split second passed, and then Kevin vanished, too, dragged to the right by an arm that looked thick enough to bend pipes.

Rio gritted his teeth. The rest was over in seconds. The doors had slammed, and the van had peeled away. Then nothing but empty pavement where two people he cared deeply for had been standing.

A burning pulse of anger wound through Rio’s gut.

He could watch the footage on a loop, but it wouldn’t change anything. His mate had been thrown into a van by a psycho who’d walked into Glass Oak just hours before.

The urge to shift and hunt was so fierce he nearly gave in.

Instead, Rio dialed the alpha while releasing a breath.

Zeppelin answered in less than a ring. “What’s going on?”

“They’re gone. Kenai and Kevin. Grabbed in the lot behind Glass Oak. Ameer has them. It was fast. I’ve got it on footage.”

A low growl. “You sure it was Ameer?”

“Camera captured his face. He wanted me to know it was him.”