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I must’ve been sleeping for an hour when I was woken up by a noise coming from the front door. My first thought was that Mason was back, so I pulled the blanket to my chin and dozed back off. Heavy footsteps rang through the house, which again, wasn’t too suspicious, because Mason was someone one could hear from miles away. But then they rushed into the living room,and the urgency made me poke my head over the back of the couch to see what was going on.
There were two men, big and dressed in black from head to toe. Their faces were covered. I screamed and scrambled off the couch, falling and slamming my shoulder into the coffee table.
“No,” I said. “No, not again.”
The two men closed in on me before I could properly get up. They grabbed me, and one of them held me as the other pressed a funny-smelling cloth to my mouth and nose.
I was getting flashbacks.
A third man entered the living room. He was dressed in a tailored suit, and I recognized him immediately. Dr. Malcolm Harlow.
“Surprised?” he asked me sarcastically. “You shouldn’t be, Miss Lucas. You know how valuable the blood that runs through your veins is.”
I blacked out.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mason
I saw the black sedan pull out of Maya’s driveway as I was coming from the other direction. I stopped the truck and watched, allowing some distance between us, then followed it with my lights turned off. My glowing eyes helped me see in the dark. My vision wasn’t as good as a shapeshifter’s, but it was better than a human’s. I hung back and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, which was not an easy feat, seeing how my truck was huge. It was late, and there wasn’t much traffic. With my sharp sight, I was able to follow the black sedan even when two, then three cars separated us.
Our destination seemed to be the port. When I figured it out, I felt sick to my stomach. The fire in my belly started burning, and I felt equally angry and anxious. I had to get to Maya in time, or they were going to ship her off somewhere. I knew the black sedan belonged to Dr. Malcolm Harlow. I’d just seen it a few hours ago, though the plates were different. Who else could it have been? No, I was certain it was him. And when he’d come inside my brother’s house to ask me about Lockwood, he’d actually wanted to see Maya up close.
It was all crystal clear to me now. Lockwood had hired me to guard the door to the basement, not because Maya might’ve escaped, but because someone else might’ve come and taken her from him. His old friend, Harlow.
The closer we got to the port, the sparser the traffic. I hung way back. I didn’t want to spook Maya’s kidnappers, because I had something serious in store for them. It started with “d” and ended with “eath”. I’d made a promise – to protect my mate at all times and no matter the cost. I’d turned my back for two hours, maybe less, and another bastard had kidnapped her a second time.
I saw the black sedan stop. I parked my car behind a building and got out in time to see two men carrying Maya to a shipping container. I grit my teeth and forced my fire to settle down. I had to be careful. These guys could’ve been armed. They most likely were. And I was too far away to save Maya if they decided to hurt her. I couldn’t let them see me until it was too late for them.
A third man got out of the car. He had blond hair that shined in the moonlight. Dr. Malcolm Harlow. I hadn’t spared his friend, so I wasn’t going to spare him.
It looked like Maya was sedated. She didn’t move and didn’t make a sound. When the two men placed her in the container, walked out and locked her in, she didn’t bang on the door. Harlow said something to them, then turned away and started talking on the phone.
I saw no reason to wait. I moved closer, making sure my massive frame was at least somewhat obscured by the containers lined up, waiting to be hauled onto a ship. I breathed in and out steadily, pushing my fire down, down, down. If I let it burn now, I would be like a walking torch, which would take away the advantage I had. Slowly, carefully, without a sound, I got as close as I could.
One of the guys heard me and turned, pulling out a gun. I stepped out from behind the container and stood in front of him, hands on my hips, finally letting my fire take over. The guy shot me a few times, then the other guy joined him. Nothing happened. The bullets bounced off my stone body. They weren’t the right ones.
It wasn’t that golems were invincible. We weren’t. But it took a certain kind of metal that was treated in a certain kind of way – and magic was involved too, though some preferred to call it chemistry – to penetrate our bodies. My brother had been unlucky enough to deal with people who were prepared for him.
These guys were not prepared for anything. I hoped they were prepared to die.
I needed to move fast, because Harlow saw me, and as his men kept shooting at me, he ran to his car. I couldn’t let him get away, which meant I had to get rid of his goons quick.
I let my fire rage, turning into a torch so massive and bright that half of the port became illuminated. I ran toward the two men in black, and they realized too late what was about to happen. One of them pulled off his mask, but I didn’t care about his identity. I slammed into them and wrapped one arm around each, effectively setting them on fire.
My fire was powerful and all-consuming. Once I set something ablaze, there was no going back. Had the firefighters gotten to the Lockwood mansion in time, they wouldn’t have been able to put out the fire. But that was not something that was common knowledge. Golems didn’t share these tidbits with just anyone.
I dropped the two burning bodies and turned to Harlow, who had started the car and was driving away. I ran, and when I was close enough to the tail of the car, I took a jump and landed right in front of it. Harlow slammed into me, which smooshed the front of the car like a pancake.
He was in shock. The airbag had deployed, and he fought it while trying to get the car door to open. It was stuck. Unhurriedly, I walked to the driver’s side and pulled the door out of its hinges. Harlow looked at me with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “We can talk. This is only business, nothing personal. And I’m good at doing business. Just name your price.”
“My price is your life,” I said as I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the car.
I heard and felt his arm pop out of its socket. Harlow screamed in pain, but I didn’t care. I threw him onto the ground and stood over him, my fire burning menacingly.
“What were you going to do with Maya?” I asked.
