Page 68 of Red Dragon’s Heart

He glanced over at her, wanting to comfort her, and afraid she was so angry she’d shake off his touch.

But he could see her biting her lips, feel the fear and anger sizzling through her. He had to do something, so he tentatively put a hand on her shoulder, and she moved into the circle of his arm as they walked.

He heaved a quiet sigh of relief. He might have fucked up—somehow—but at least her anger wasn’t directed at him.

Cazbek had gone on ahead, and was just ending another communicator call when they got to the office. He finished just in time for Zak to get up in his face. “What the hell happened? Your guys are supposed to be the best!”

“They are the best,” Caz said with a sigh. “This was a well-planned op. They set it up to look like they were going to try to hijack Troy Fox’s medical transport when he left the hospital. While the majority of our guys were dealing with that, they had another team disguised as medical personnel inside. They hit both Fox and his remaining guard with tranquilizer darts, then stuck Fox on a gurney and wheeled him out into a fake medical transport van.”

“Dammit!” Zak slammed his fist down on the table, and turned to Maddie. “We’ll get him back. I swear.”

She had been pacing back and forth by the window, but now she stopped. “Where’s the data?” she demanded of Emon. “That’s what he wants, isn’t it?”

Cazbek and Emon exchanged glances, and Caz shook his head.

“The kidnappers haven’t contacted us yet,” Emon said. “But I think it’s safe to assume that’s the point of this.” He took the communication ball from Cazbek. “I’m calling in Thorne Greystone.”

Zak snatched the ball out of his hand without thinking. “We do not need the Shifter Council in on this.”

Emon gave a little growl, and held his hand out. “We may need Thorne, though.” He was right. Thorne was a hugely powerful dragon sorcerer, and had powerful friends. Zak reluctantly returned the communicator.

While Emon called Thorne, Zak went over to stand near Maddie, in case she needed him. She was still pacing, like it was impossible for her to stand still, and it was a measure of how upset she was that she didn’t even ask how the damn communication balls worked.

Thorne answered the call, and Emon told him what was going on. “This is not an official report to the Council,” he added.

“Of course it isn’t,” Thorne said. “One of these days I’m going to fall off that tightrope you keep me on, between you and the Council.”

Emon bared his teeth in a not-quite-smile. “Good thing you can fly.”

Thorne wasn’t at his lair, where there was a permanent portal to the castle, but he promised to be there within the hour. After that there was nothing to do but wait.

Zak had never felt so helpless in his life. He tried to get Maddie to sit down, stop pacing, have a fucking cup of tea, but it was like she could barely hear him. Her whole being was focused on her brother and what might be happening to him.

It seemed like hours, but it was only forty-five minutes before Thorne arrived. He was barely in the room before a video call came through on Emon’s computer, once more from the security office.

Chisholm had contacted them only moments ago, with a photo of Troy Fox tied to a chair, in front of a blank background that gave no clues to their whereabouts. The picture appeared on the computer screen.

Maddie gave a little moan and reached out toward it involuntarily.

The security team supervisor said, “I’ll forward a recording of the call. Short version, they want to do an exchange.”

“Troy Fox for the data,” Emon said.

There was a pause. “Not exactly,” the supervisor said. “They want the data, Madeleine Fox—” Zak growled. “—and Zakerek.”

The room went silent. His tone carefully neutral, the supervisor added, “They’re giving us twenty-four hours. Then they’re going to start cutting off pieces.”

This time it was Maddie who growled. Cazbek said, “For fuck’s sake, man. You’re on speaker, and his sister’s in the room.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the man said.

Maddie had moved over to the desk, her fingertips touching Troy’s image on the screen, as if she could somehow will her brother back through the connection.

She asked, “Did he at least finish his dialysis before they took him? If he didn’t, he could die.”

“Yes, ma’am, he finished,” the supervisor said. “He was on his way out.”

Zak saw her exhale. “Then he’ll be okay for a few days,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.