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Then he heard someone shout. It was Sam. Jesse’s heart plummeted as Sam was thrown back onto the chaise. There was a red spot on his cheek where he’d either been hit or his face had hit an object.
“No, no, no,” Fletch said with a snarl. “They just cut his auction time in half.”
A growl ripped from Jesse’s throat. “Then you better work faster. You have less than three hours to find him, Fletch.”
That sounded like plenty of time, but one, they had no clue where Sam was behind held. Jesse had been unconscious for three hours, giving them plenty of time to transport Sam far from them. Two, from the time it was taking Fletch to locate the IP address, the men who’d taken Sam were computer savvy. They could keep Fletch chasing his tail until the clock ran out.
“I’m trying,” Fletch said. “I’m backtracking their signal, eliminating the places it’s bouncing from. I just need time to triangulate their true location.”
Time they might not have.
* * * *
“This is not what I paid your firm for,” Malcolm snarled, leaning over the desk.
Ian sat quietly, letting the man rage. He understood the demon’s emotions. His offspring had been taken, and Malcolm wanted him back.
“Samuel was supposed to stay safe with your man, Mr. Driscoll. How in the fuck was he taken?”
“I’m still working out those details.” Total lie. There wasn’t a move his men made without Ian knowing about it. Knox Ashford had called Ian when it was revealed that Samuel was Jesse’s mate. Although it complicated things, there was nothing anyone could do about that.
Mates were a rare find, and when he or she was found, nothing was going to stand in a nonhuman’s way. Jesse could no more fight against the pull than he could stop breathing.
Ian had also been called when Jesse had left the safehouse with Samuel. Now that really pissed him off. Jesse had broken protocol, but until he spoke with the man, Ian wasn’t telling Malcolm that. The guy already looked as if he was barely containing his anger.
“Work faster,” Malcolm growled, and then his features crumpled and he dropped into his chair. “A fucking sex website.” He cradled his face in his hands. “I’ve been exhausting resources trying to figure out which enemy of mine was after him. But this…” He dropped his hands. “I could have dealt with a ransom. That’s expected in my line of work. I’m rich, powerful, and have deep connections. But a sex slave auction?”
“That was unexpected.” Ian nodded. “My men are working hard to trace that link.”
“But why Jesse Hart?” Malcolm asked. “Why wasn’t the link sent to me instead? If they wanted to torture someone, I’m the logical choice. I’m Samuel’s father. Why would they care about sending that link to his bodyguard?”
It wasn’t Ian’s place to tell Malcolm about the two. That decision was up to Samuel and Jesse. “To taunt him with the fact that he’d failed at protecting your son.”
“I guess.” Malcolm sat back. “Just tell me what you need from me, Mr. Driscoll. What can I do to help get my son back?”
Ian was a bit surprised at Malcolm’s compliance. He’d expected to waste time trying to calm down the demon, to have to reel him in before they reached this point. He was glad it hadn’t come to that. Knox had texted him to tell him about the incident and how the timer had been cut in half. Ian didn’t have time to waste.
“Do you have anyone in a position of power who owes you a favor?”
Malcolm studied him with a cool calmness. Rational. That was what Ian needed Malcolm to be right now. “What are you asking for?”
“Anyone who can give you satellite time. If we’re to find Samuel, we need all the help we can get.”
“Let me make a call.” He gave Ian a steely glare. “When I find out who’s behind this, they’ll wish for death long before I give it to them.”
Ian expected nothing less but had a feeling Malcolm would have to get in line behind Jesse.
Chapter Ten
The red light on the camcorder clicked off, as did the studio light. Sam was thrown into darkness. He sat up gingerly on the chaise. He’d had the crap beaten out of him for his attempted escape and promised worse if he tried again.
He’d sat there for hours, hunkered over, trying his best to cover his body. He finally grew tired and lay down, giving his back to the camcorder. He’d just turned over when everything shut down.
He heard the footsteps approaching, but there was nowhere for Sam to hide. He thought about grabbing the tripod and smashing it over whoever walked in, but his ribs were killing him from the last encounter with his captors.
The door opened, and light spilled into the room, but the person was shadowy with the hallway light behind them. “Time’s up, Sammy.”
Sammy. Only one person called him that. Gloria. But the person speaking was male. When the man drew closer, and Sam’s eyes finally adjusted, he recognized the man in front of him.
