That was why she had to keep her head on straight and do what needed to be done before moving on. Regardless of if it hurt and despite her feelings, she couldn’t have Trey Veznor.
The price was too steep.
Chapter Twelve
Ava woke with a throbbing head and a dry mouth. She shifted her body, finding that doing so only intensified the pounding in her temples. A musky smell invaded her nose, the mattress beneath her lumpy and obviously old. She coughed when she got a full-on inhalation of the bedding, choking on the scents. If there was a downside to being bloodbonded, it was sensitivity to foul smells.
“Ava mine?” Diskant’s voice was loud in her head, his fear bleeding into the words.
She managed to direct a thought back to him despite her disorientation. “I’m here.”
“Where is here?” He was on the verge of a breakdown and she knew it. She remembered being snatched from the store, taken although she fought. Sadly, she had no idea where “here” was. After they’d put the cloth over her mouth the world had faded to black.
“I’m not sure. Give me a sec.”
“Ava…” He growled the word, no less threatening when using telepathy than he would be face-to-face.
“Don’t try to scare me, Neanderthal. I can’t tell you where I am until I know.”
A string of curses ran through her mind but she ignored them. If she wanted to get out of her predicament, she had to think smart. Since her hands were tied behind her back, she had to shimmy from the mattress. She remained as quiet as she could when her feet hit the ground. Anyone could be nearby, and she wanted to make it to the window a few feet away. Lights were shining, indicating she wasn’t far from civilization. She glided across the floor, keeping her footsteps light. When she made it to the window she shoved aside the curtains using her face and teeth, until she could see.
Her heart raced, echoing in her ears. She wasn’t far from home, only a few miles. She could see the sign from Becker’s glowing across the distance.
“You’re not going to believe this,” she thought, having a hard time believing it herself.
“Then make me a believer.”
“I’m near Becker’s. I can see the sign.”
Diskant didn’t respond for several seconds. Then he asked, “Are you facing the front or the back of the store?”
“The front.”
“What about Trey?”
She took a deep breath, steeling herself for a multitude of odors that would hit her nose. Hope quickly turned to despair when she didn’t find the smell she was searching for. Trey wasn’t in the room, and she couldn’t detect anything that indicated he was nearby.
“I don’t think he’s here.”
“I’m coming for you. Hold tight, baby. Hold tight.”
How could Shepherds be so stupid? Why would they bring her here? It didn’t make any sense. Fright gained hold of her senses and she inhaled again. Shepherds had used a bomb before. Would they do the same thing twice? She couldn’t detect anything out of the normal, which didn’t surprise her. Her sense of smell was still new and foreign. Even if there were components to make a bomb, she probably couldn’t identify them.
She tried to block her thoughts, to shield Diskant from her fear. The Omega had to be crawling the walls, furious and angry that his mate had been taken. He’d warned her to stay at home but she hadn’t listened, determined to live a normal life. Talk about something coming back to bite a person in the ass. She’d seen how he could be, how possessive he was. Losing her wasn’t something he’d survive. He’d rather die.
The thought brought her up short. She wouldn’t allow Diskant to sacrifice himself. Even if he was bossy, crude and arrogant, she loved him. So much that it hurt sometimes. They’d only started their lives together, and there was something important she had to tell him, something she’d hoped to share with him as soon as he arrived home from Kinsley’s.
Certainly things wouldn’t end like this?
Just as the thought formed, the bedroom door flew open and a man entered. He was young—in his twenties—and dressed like a normal New Yorker…aside from his cowboy boots and Stetson hat. He held a gun in his hand. When he lifted it, Ava froze. Panic consumed her, taking over rational thought.
“Diskant, there’s a man here with a gun. He’s pointing it at me.”
“Do whatever he tells you. We’re not far. It won’t take long to locate and track your scent. I will find you, Ava mine.” Diskant’s thought was a steady growl and she knew he’d tapped into her feelings. “When I do, they’re dead.”
“What do you want?’ she asked, her throat so dry her voice was a crackling rasp.
The man didn’t answer, advancing one step at a time. A dart hit her in the shoulder, followed by a sharp bite of pain. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the floor, thudding against the ground since she couldn’t brace herself. The man who’d shot her slid the gun into a holster at his side, walked over and picked her up. She struggled to stay awake as he carried her back to the bed and placed her on top of it.
“Sedating me,” she managed to think. “He’s putting me back to sleep. I have to tell you something. You need to know…”
“Sleep, Pinkie. When you open those beautiful blue eyes, I’ll be there. I promise.”
Despite the determination she felt in his statement, she also felt his worry, his fear. Yes, she was close by. But Shepherds could move her while she was unconscious and take her somewhere Diskant couldn’t find her. She blinked, trying to shake off the effects of the drug, and managed to get out one final thought before her eyes slid closed.
“Hurry.”
“Son of a bitch!”
Diskant’s outburst caught Emory and the rest of the pack members assembled in the Omega’s kitchen by surprise. He was gripping the counter, knuckles white, arm shaking. They’d all been waiting for his orders, aware that he’d finally established contact with his female.
“She’s close, somewhere near Becker’s. She was able to see the front of the building. She doesn’t think Trey is with her.” He let go of the counter and stomped to the kitchen table. “I want each of you to reacquaint yourself with Ava’s scent.” Diskant lifted random articles of clothing from the surface of the wood—all Ava’s—and tossed them around. “We have to hurry. I don’t know how long they’ll keep her in one place.”
“What about contacting the packs and working out a strategy of attack on the compounds?” Kinsley asked, his dark hair unkempt, his eyes a glowing grass green.
Emory might have thought Kinsley’s increased awareness was due to being the only feline shifter in the room but he knew better. Kinsley would remove the head of any shifter—cat or wolf—who crossed his path. His age and strength were not something anyone wanted to fuck with.
“If you’re going to make your move, it has to be now,” Kinsley cautioned. “Once Shepherds get wind of the map’s existence, they’ll pack up and move.”