“I think he’s okay. I don’t know if they took them, but I don’t think so. When we got here I heard them carry you out, and then they made me walk. I couldn’t hear anything that sounded like they were hauling a few hundred pounds of muscle. And you know Nick and Sam would have been fighting if they were awake. Or at least cursing.”
“You’re right.” Quinn sighed.
They sat in tension-thick silence for a few minutes. Riley prayed Sam was okay. Maybe Anson wouldn’t have reason to harm them. He’d been genuinely shocked by the idea that he might have hurt her family. He’d let Riley go, back in Atlanta, and he didn’t seem to like getting his hands dirty. He sure as hell hadn’t fought after Sam broke his nose.
But things had escalated with this abduction. He was working with other people now, men whose greed might far outweigh their squeamishness, and he had plenty of reasons to lash out at Sam. Riley stifled a sob. If he was hurt, it was her fault. She should never have let him go with her to Boston. Or never even have gone into his bar in the first place. He’d been her champion from beginning to end. How much was he going to suffer for that, because of her?
But she couldn’t honestly say she wished she had never gone to him for help. He was the most amazing man she’d ever met, and every moment she’d spent with him, even over distance, had made her fall harder. When they’d made love on the balcony, they’d been so close, so entwined in each other, that Riley couldn’t tell them apart. Not only in the romance novel sense but also in a power-centric one. His golden light and whatever made up her own essence had merged into a mentally blinding flash of not just ecstasy, but joy.
She didn’t know if Sam had felt it too. What if she fell in love with him, and all he needed from her was a way to balance himself with the power?
Quinn moaned and bent forward, her arms across her stomach.
“What’s wrong?” Riley got up and leaned closer. “What can I do?”
“Nothing,” Quinn whispered. After a moment she eased back against the wall again. “It’s the power.”
Riley tried not to panic. “What’s it doing?”
“Since I separated the strands, it doesn’t stop moving. It’s like Tanda’s is trying to get back to her—that’s the best way to describe it. Beth’s feels lost and sad, like grief, but it’s fading.”
Riley tried not to think of what the remnants were doing to Sam right now. And that wasn’t even the worst of what Quinn was dealing with. “And Marley’s?”
“Sick,” Quinn groaned before taking a deep breath.
“What’s it going to—”
Quinn cut her off. “I’ll deal with that when the time comes. When it’s all that’s left, I’ll figure out what needs to be done. I just need to get Tanda’s transferred.”
Before she was literally torn to pieces from the inside out.
Riley couldn’t fathom what it would do to Nick if they didn’t get out of here and Quinn died from this. And where would that leave Sam?
They had to get out of here.
The first step was to try to let the guys know where they were. Quinn wouldn’t be able to get very far without help, and Riley was afraid she wasn’t enough. “We need to figure out a way to talk to the guys.” She patted the pocket where her phone usually was, but it was flat and empty. Dammit, it must have fallen out somewhere. “Can I see your phone?”
“Of course.” Quinn passed it over, her hand shaking at its slight weight. “We don’t have a signal in here, though. I’ve tried.”
Riley didn’t know if her idea would work. Energy was energy, so she should be able to use what she tapped through metal to feed the phone, and if she did it right, maybe she could even increase its receiving ability.
She needed more metal than the ring on her thumb or the small things in her pocket. She turned and felt the bed, hoping to find some metal pieces, and to her surprise, she found that the whole frame was metal. Like something from a barracks. Were these guys stupid, or just hired guns who knew nothing about the women they’d kidnapped?
She closed her eyes and concentrated, her free hand curled around the metal bed frame. The faint hum in the phone increased after a minute or two, and it grew warm in her hand. She opened her eyes and checked the symbol. Four bars. “Awesome!”
“What?” Quinn asked.
“I boosted the signal.”
“Wow. Nicely done.”
“Thanks.” Riley held out the phone. “Do you want to call Nick?”
Quinn didn’t move. “As much as I want to hear his voice, no. If he hears mine, he’ll know how bad off I am.”
Riley tried speed-dial number one, smiling when Nick’s name flashed on the screen. But the four bars dropped to three, then two before bouncing back to three. Please let him answer. Please let them be okay.
The first ring cut off halfway through. “Hello,” Nick said warily, as if he didn’t trust the caller.
“Nick! It’s Riley, on Quinn’s phone. We’re okay, but we’re being held somewhere. Get Sam to trace this.” She rushed on when he started to ask a question. “Do it fast! I had to boost the signal magically, and it’s already fading.”
Nick’s orders to Sam were muffled, as if he’d moved the phone away. Sam argued, his voice sounding sweet to her despite the edge of desperation and anger in it. She drew in a relieved breath. He was okay, too.
Their voices cut in and out for a few seconds. “No no no no!” She pulled the phone from her ear and scowled at the single bar that remained. She tried to focus on it again, but it heated so fast against her palm she stopped, afraid it would stop working. “The signal’s fading already. They might not have time.”
“Got it!” shouted Nick, loud and clear before the phone beeped the dropped call.
“Can you boost it again?” Quinn asked, but Riley shook her head.
“I’m afraid the heat will damage the circuits or something. Hopefully they got the location. But unless they had already guessed what direction we were taken, they’ll still be a couple hours away.” She shifted into a more comfortable position and sighed. “You okay?”
Quinn didn’t answer.
…
Red and blue lights fuzzed into a flashing mess in Sam’s vision. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to them. “Cop ahead.”
“I don’t care,” Nick growled back.
“Getting pulled over will slow us down.”
“I won’t get pulled over.”
“You can’t be reckless. They need us.”
Nick ignored him, his glare practically burning a hole through the windshield, his hands uncompromising on the steering wheel, and when Sam checked, the gas pedal was mashed under his foot. But he drove smoothly, his reaction time keeping up with their speed. Sam knew he wouldn’t be reckless, per se, but he wondered what was going on in his friend’s head.
Fucking Anson Tournado. When he got his hands on him again…
None of what he’d fed them had sounded like bullshit. Sam suspected he was running multiple games, playing different groups off each other. He never would have pegged his old roommate as someone happy to work for someone else, but pretending to, if it would further his own goals? Totally.
He wished he’d been able to talk to Riley. Nick said she sounded okay, but he wanted to hear it for himself. He’d pinpointed their location in Boston right before the call dropped, but they got voice mail when they tried to call back. By the time they got up there, who knew what they’d have done to her? The car flew over a bad patch of highway, bouncing and sending Sam into the ceiling despite his seatbelt. “Ow! Come on!” He glared at Nick.
“Sorry.” He motioned to the glove box. “Get the map out, will you? I want the address marked on hard copy. We can’t carry your laptop around while we search.”