Now she sat on the floor with her back against the wall. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the concrete wall. Loneliness and fear made her want to reach out to Cain just to talk, but she didn’t want to drive him nuts with idle chatter.
You talk a good game, Ridley, but inside you’re a coward.
She plucked at one of the wireless signals floating through the air. While she couldn’t see them, she could sense them there, and, more importantly, hear them. Tapping into them had taken a ton of practice. She used the signal now to check the time. Almost seven at night, just a few more minutes and she’d check in with Cain. She’d been here two days, every second eternal, but she’d caught a conversation on a walkie-talkie which led her to believe tonight or tomorrow they’d take her to a boat to be shipped to their longer-term holding facility in the islands.
Anticipation stirred as she mentally composed her text, using her Telecommunication ability to convert it into the digital signal which would travel a cellular signal she’d hooked into—a signal which she couldn’t see or touch, but she could hear it and speak to it. The noises that came out of her reminded her of the clicks dolphins made to communicate. Cameras throughout the area caught her making the noises, but no one would understand her. However, she tried not to do it too often. Better to not draw extra attention.
—Checking in. I believe they’ll take me and several others to the islands in the next day or so.—
She waited for Cain’s reply. “Bet five bucks he asks for my location,” she muttered, smiling to herself.
—This is Max. Keep an eye out for Cain.—
With a jerk, Quinn sat forward abruptly.
—What do you mean?—
—He’s joining you. They took him an hour ago.—
Quinn forced herself to relax back against the wall, acutely aware of the cameras, when what she wanted to do was pace. Of all the stupid, idiotic… Don’t be a hero, he told her. What about him? She should’ve made him promise the same darn thing.
—What if they don’t bring him here? Or put him in a different cell and I don’t know where he is?—
—His call, Quinn.—
Which told her Max wasn’t any happier about it than she was. He didn’t tell her that Cain wouldn’t be in this situation if she would’ve just shared her location. But she was thinking it. A frantic sensation clawed at her insides. She had to find him.
—Transmitting my coordinates now.—
—Received.—
And now she waited. Not passively, though. Quinn methodically started checking every transmission and digital communication out of the area where she was held, listening for any sign of Cain.
Nine hours later, exhaustion dragged at her eyelids, but she forced herself to stay alert, searching for the man whom she trusted above all others. A few weeks of constant contact and she found she craved his presence, his voice, the odd sense of calm his rare touches brought her. Her nightmares, a nightly occurrence for six years, had ceased completely with him in her bed. She hadn’t wanted to examine why too closely before, but now she had nothing but time and her thoughts. And the knowledge that she was falling for Daniel Cain. Hard.
The clank of the metal door at the end of the chamber dragged her from her telepathic stupor. She gave a slow blink as footsteps echoed down the hallway, preceding the figure of a man too lean to be Cain or any of the others on his team. She straightened as she recognized the man who brought her food and a fresh piss bucket every day. Only he carried neither.
Key in hand, he stared at her through the bars with a blank expression and the eerily beautiful pale blue eyes of a demon. “Stand up, turn around, hands on the wall.” He spoke in broken English.
“Where are you taking me?” Quinn used Sumerian, the language she’d overheard the islanders speaking weeks ago. She didn’t need to fake the fear which lent a wobble to her voice.
His eyes widened, but he didn’t answer, merely repeated his instructions in perfect Sumerian. Yup. Demon.
She did as he asked as quickly as muscles weakened from two days of minimal food and water and limited movement would allow. That she couldn’t control the shaking of her body irritated her.
He unlocked the cell door with a metallic click, then took her hands and bound them behind her with industrial zip ties. A blindfold came next. That part didn’t worry Quinn too much. Immediately, she sent a signal to Cain’s cell phone, confident Max would receive it. Using a tracking app, she allowed him to watch on a map as she was led out of the cell, down the hall, and out the heavy metal door. After that, she would’ve lost track of the twists and turns through the building if not for her own signal.
A blast of humid air, followed by the sound of water lapping against a shore, and she was outside the building. Were they at a dock?
Her footing changed, and they were walking uphill. A gangplank? Had to be. She was grateful she’d worn running shoes when the demons took her because the stilettos she sported at work would’ve been crap at negotiating the slatted metal flooring she was walked along once inside what she assumed was a large boat. Finally, they stopped and a door was opened with a rusty creak. She winced as the demon cut her zip ties off, nicking her skin with his knife. Her blindfold was whipped off, and she stumbled as he shoved her roughly inside before he slammed the door closed.
Wherever he’d put her had no window and no light. Quinn felt her way through the pitch dark, glad her previous experience hadn’t resulted in claustrophobia or a fear of the dark. Otherwise, she’d be wigging about now. Encountering smooth metal walls, she explored the space by touch alone.
“Ow! Son of a—” She bit off the expletive and rubbed her shin before bending down to feel for what she’d walked into. Pleasant surprise washed through her when she discovered a bed with a mattress in the corner. Even better, more exploration and a couple more bruises revealed a toilet and sink as well. Better than her little cell in what must’ve been a dock-side warehouse.
With a resigned sigh, she plunked down on the bed. Max had her location. He’d be coming. She just hoped he found Cain, too. Her own searching had turned up nothing. How long would it take before Max came anyway?
Despite the fact that she strained her ears for any sound of a fight, of rescue, she had zero warning when her door jerked open. A broad-shouldered man stood silhouetted in the doorway and memory slammed through her. In a split second, she mentally transported back to the prison in Alaska when her rescuer had opened her door.
Quinn gasped, but before she could do more, the man in her doorway was shoved roughly inside, and the door slammed closed behind him. The lock turned with a thunk.
“Quinn?”
One syllable, but she’d know his voice anywhere.
“Daniel,” she choked as she threw herself in his general direction.
The dark hampered them both, and she managed to slam into a wall of muscled man and bump his chin with her forehead. His strong arms closed around her, and calm descended over her body. She was safe as long as he was near.
Without thinking it through, she went up on her tiptoes and pulled him down to place her lips over his. The kiss was sweet and hot, zinging through her nerves in a delightful way. After a shocked second of hesitation, he pulled her closer and took over, claiming her lips with his and stoking the fires inside her.