“Resnick’s boys were behind the break-in at Shea’s house,” Donovan said grimly. “The bastard has been tightlipped with us because he’s behind it or at least he has a big hand in it. He must have loved me coming to him for information. Fuck me. I all but gave him a detailed map of how to find her. I’m going to kill him.”
Nathan tried to clear the haze of rage and confusion that was clouding his mind. “Wait a minute. Resnick has her?”
“Yeah, or at least he knows who does,” Sam said. “Come on. We’ve got a house call to make. That little son of a bitch is going to regret this.”
“If he so much as touches a hair on her head, I’m going to gut him and leave him for the vultures,” Nathan hissed.
“And we won’t do a goddamn thing to stop you,” Garrett promised. “Now let’s go. We left Ethan and Swanny with Steele and his team, and they’re likely having a kitten for wanting to blow something up. Looks like they’re going to get their chance.”
SHEA came to awareness but was careful not to convey that she’d regained consciousness. She was no longer in a helicopter. She knew that much at least. Nor was she moving. She was lying on a couch. A couch? As tempted as she was to open her eyes, she forced herself to have discipline and carefully determine what she could without any noticeable change in her breathing.
It was silent. She strained to listen for any sign that she wasn’t alone. But all she heard was the light hum of a central air-conditioning system.
She allowed one slit in her left eye, and when she didn’t immediately see anyone else in the room, she opened both eyes and quickly examined her surroundings.
Seeing no one, she shot to her feet and then nearly went down and face-planted on the floor. Holy hell, but whatever they’d given her must work for elephants too. She sank back onto the edge of the couch and shook her head, trying to clear the muzziness that surrounded her like fog.
There were two ways out of the room. A door and a large window. She had no idea where the door led, but she was going to check out the window first. It was already dark, which meant she’d been out for hours.
Shea, goddamn it. Where are you? Talk to me. Just talk to me. Let me know you’re okay. Let me know where to find you. We’re coming for you, baby.
She dropped to her knees, holding her head in agony. Each word sent splinters into her brain until she moaned and closed her eyes. She rocked back and forth, so shaken and in so much pain that her stomach was a tight ball of nausea.
Nathan.
As soon as she tried to reach out to him, pain speared through her skull and down her spine. Overwhelmed, she leaned forward and vomited. It took her several long moments to regain her composure and for her to stop the violent heaving of her stomach.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder, and she reacted on instinct. She turned and lashed out, first with her hand, landing the heel of her palm on the bridge of her captor’s nose. She was on her feet in an instant and followed up with a vicious kick to his balls.
He doubled over with a grunt and she nailed him with a right hook to the jaw. Not leaving anything to chance, she snapped her foot into the side of his head and sent him reeling to the floor.
The dull gleam of a pistol secured in his shoulder harness sent her scrambling to yank it free. First she hit him on the back of the head with the butt and then she quickly frisked him for extra clips.
She felt like doing a double fist pump when she found not only two extra clips, but a smaller Sig Sauer secured to an ankle holster. She pocketed it and the knife from his pocket and then ran for the door.
She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. Maybe some underground compound. A top-secret government facility in some cave. Or maybe even a basement in some underground Washington D.C. test facility. Whatever she’d been expecting, this wasn’t it.
She was in a freaking house. A normal-looking house that from all appearances someone lived in. Damn it. She hadn’t thought to frisk the dude for keys to a vehicle. They had to have gotten her here someway.
She crouched down in the hallway when she heard voices in the next room. The stock of the pistol was slick in her hand and her pulse raced. She didn’t want to have to kill anyone. She wasn’t saying she wouldn’t do it. But it didn’t mean she was ready to start pumping people full of lead.
On the other hand, these assholes had scared her to death, they’d drugged her and they’d jumped off a cliff into a helicopter. And whatever they’d given her had affected her ability to use her telepathy.
Yeah, she was just pissed off enough to shoot and get the hell out of this place. Wherever this place was.
She ducked into one of the other rooms, realizing it was a guest bedroom. For God’s sake. Were they in suburbia? This was getting more bizarre by the moment.
Footsteps passed in the hallway and she knew she only had moments before it was discovered she’d escaped. She ran to the window and forwent trying to be stealthy.
She kicked out the glass, making a big enough hole that she could get out without being cut to shreds. Then she ducked through and stepped into empty space.
She barely had time to utter a foul curse before she hit the ground with a painful thump. All the air left her and she couldn’t draw in a single breath. It hurt too much.
Hell, she’d never even considered that she was in a two-story house. It was dark. She was still disoriented from the drugs. She just wanted to get the hell out of that creepy place.
Gasping painfully, she rolled and pushed herself to her knees.
“Damn it, Shea, what the hell are you trying to do, kill yourself?”
She grabbed the pistol and shot to her feet, backing away from the man who stood a short distance away.
He held his hands up and took a step forward. “I’m not going to hurt you. Put the gun down so we can talk.”
She shook her head. “Too late, asshole. This whole ordeal has been anything but a cakewalk. If it’s all the same to you, I’m getting the hell out of here.”
He frowned and then lunged toward her. She squeezed the trigger, and a moment later, he dropped to his knees holding his arm and wearing a bewildered expression.
“You shot me.”
“Well, duh.” Moron.
She turned and fled, making damn sure she kept a tight hold on the gun.
“Shea, wait! Don’t go!”
The man was insane. She was tempted to shoot him again, but the rest of his goons would be after her. She turned and sprinted down the street wondering where she was and how the hell she was going to get back to Nathan.
CHAPTER 35
THEY surrounded the house in the darkness. Nathan was on edge, his unease growing with every minute he was separated from Shea. He worried that his continued efforts to reach her would only weaken her, so he’d controlled the urge to continually call out to her.
Donovan had gone on a rampage and called in every favor ever owed to him in an effort to track Resnick down.
Steele and his team were in position. P.J. and Cole were in two of the oak trees on the edge of the property with their sniper rifles. Swanny, Nathan and his brothers were taking the front. Steele and the remainder of his team were taking the back.
It took all of Nathan’s restraint and military training to sit back and wait for the command to go in. Everything inside screamed at him that his woman was in danger. That these assholes had her. That he should go in and take down everything in his path until he had her back.
Joe put a hand on his shoulder, a silent gesture of support. Nathan stood there in the dark, seething, readying himself to kill.