by Maya Banks
The entire house had been ransacked. Not just ransacked, but completely and utterly destroyed as if the person responsible had been in a rage. Or they hadn’t found what they were looking for.
Was this what had happened after her parents had been murdered and Shea and Grace had fled? Or had this been done more recently? Had her parents been left to rot in the house or were their bodies disposed of to conceal the evidence of the crime committed?
“Jesus,” Nathan muttered. “Looks like a damn war zone.”
Shea froze when her gaze skittered across the monitor that had a view of the dining room. The carpet that had borne the bloodstains of her parents was gone. Someone had removed it. Why? But she still saw the pool of blood in her mind. Tears filled her eyes and she looked hastily away.
In her mind, an endless loop played and she saw her father valiantly trying to protect her mother. Heard the intruders demand to know where the girls were. She saw him gunned down when he refused to give them any information on his daughters’ whereabouts and then her mother throwing her body over her husband as she sobbed and pleaded for their lives.
She shut her eyes and viciously shoved the images from her head. She’d looked away then too, no longer able to bear to see what happened. Grace had called her a heartless bitch when Shea had dragged her toward the door and shoved her into the tunnel.
But she’d known there was nothing she and Grace could do and she’d made a vow that her parents wouldn’t sacrifice themselves for nothing. She’d keep Grace—and herself—safe. Her mom and dad wouldn’t die in vain.
Who had done this? They’d gone to great lengths to conceal the deaths, disposing of the bodies, removing the blood-soaked carpet. Yet they’d trashed the house and left it in shambles? It didn’t make sense, which was why she suspected that the house had been ransacked much more recently. Like when Grace had been here and had been frightened away by intruders.
When Nathan spoke, she jumped. She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard him move toward the door leading out of the panic room into the rest of the house.
“Same code?”
She nodded. Her heart jumped into overdrive and her hands shook so much that she wrapped both around the stock of the gun in an effort not to drop it.
The stock was slick and she took one hand away from it to wipe it down the leg of her jeans. Then she switched hands so she could rub the other one.
There had been no sign that anyone was in the house. No sign of Grace. Had the house been that way when Grace had arrived? Or had this been done by whoever had startled Grace?
Fear gripped her by the throat and threatened to choke her.
Where was Grace now? And was she okay? Why the hell wouldn’t she communicate with Shea? Or was she unable to?
That was what scared Shea the most. The thought of Grace hurt and unable to call for Shea was paralyzing.
“Let’s move. I don’t want to spend any more time here than necessary,” Nathan said when the lock released on the door.
She collected herself and moved into the hallway behind Nathan. Her gaze scanned each room, but what was she looking for? Everything was a complete and total mess. How would she even know if there was something missing?
Then she remembered the journal tucked into her jeans. She looked down and fingered the edge. She was convinced now that Grace must have dropped it. What Shea didn’t know was if it had been an accident or if Grace had intended for Shea to find it.
She forced her attention back to her surroundings. Nathan kept his head up as he crept from room to room. He toed through a few of the fallen items but quickly moved through the house.
When they reached the kitchen, Nathan glanced into the garage and then turned back to Shea. “Try to contact Grace again. Everything is quiet here. I don’t see any fresh blood, and it’s hard to tell if there was a struggle. Too big of a mess.”
Shea’s stomach dropped and she poured all of her energy into the effort to reach out to her sister.
Grace. Please, talk to me. I’m here at the house. Things are a mess here. I need to know you’re okay. Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you. I’m safe now. You can be too.
Only empty silence greeted her plea.
“She’s not there, damn it!”
Nathan touched her arm. “Don’t get worked up, Shea. You don’t know that anything has happened to her. I need you to stay calm and focused.”
She blew out her breath and battled tears of rage and frustration. How was she supposed to be calm and focused? She was standing in the place where her parents had been murdered. A place that her sister had come back to and from which she had now disappeared.
Glass exploded around them, sending slivers slicing over Shea’s neck and shoulders. Then she hit the floor as Nathan threw her down and covered her with his body.
“Cover your ears and close your eyes!” he yelled hoarsely.
She barely had time to close her eyes before a loud explosion registered and then splashes of color appeared in her vision even though her eyes were tightly shut. Her hands over her ears did little to buffer her from the concussion of sound.
Before she could collect herself, Nathan was dragging her toward the panic room. She stumbled as she got to her feet but promptly staggered. Her balance was off and her ears were ringing. Those damn patches of black still obscured her vision and no amount of blinking made them go away.
Behind her, more breaking glass and then the shattering of wood urged her forward.
The world spun so crazily around her that nausea rose sharply. Her head hurt. Her ears throbbed and she felt sick as a dog.
Finally Nathan hoisted her over his shoulder and ran the rest of the way toward the panic room. As soon as they were inside, he tossed her down, slammed the door and set the locks.
The gun. She’d dropped the damn gun.
She held her hands to her head and staggered upward, willing the room to stop spinning.
“What the hell was that?”
“Flash grenade. Can you see? I need your help here. Do you know anything about the surveillance system?”
She shook her head to rid herself of the residual effects. Nathan sounded like he was a mile away but at least her vision was slowly ridding itself of the spots. Her head hurt like a son of a bitch.
“What do you want to do? I know a little. Just what my dad showed me and Grace when he set everything up.”
Nathan pointed to the monitor that showed two men stealthily moving into the kitchen from the garage door. She gasped, her mind becoming sharper as she stared at the guns they held.
“I need to get this surveillance to my brothers. Do you have the passwords to the computer system? We have to be quick. I want to upload the footage of these jokers so we find out what we can about them.”
For a moment she blanked.
“Come on, Shea. Think. We have to get out of here. These aren’t your average baddies here. Your high-tech security system won’t withstand a grenade. They’ll just blow a hole in the damn wall.”
“It’s—it’s DLGSP.”
“That’s it?”
“No. No, just give me a second.”
“We don’t have a second, Shea. Give me the rest of it, damn it.”
She closed her eyes and replayed inputting the password. The first letter of each family member’s name in order of age. Then the number of members.
“It’s 4. The number 4 and then Peterson spelled back- ward. All uppercase. NOSRETEP. The entire password is DLGSP4NOSRETEP.”
Nathan typed in the letters and then entered a series of commands. He watched one of the monitors and zoomed in one of the men, who moved slowly down the hallway toward the panic room. He took a series of still shots and then captured a thirty-second video.
Shea surged forward. “Oh my God, Nathan. The cameras would have caught Grace when she was here! We’d know what happened to her!”
Nathan cursed and muttered under his breath as his fingers flew across the keyb
oard. “I’ll have to start the upload of that entire day and just hope it doesn’t get interrupted if they blow this place. We don’t have time to babysit it.”
“They’re coming down the hall,” she said urgently. She frowned and leaned forward as one of the men began attaching something to the wall. “What are they doing?”
“They’re preparing to blow their way in here.”
She glanced frantically around, cursing again that she’d dropped the gun when the flash grenade had gone off. She reached for the pistol tucked into Nathan’s back waistband, pulled it out and pointed it toward the wall.
“Come on, come on,” Nathan murmured as he hunched over the keyboard. He pounded a key and then reached for Shea. “Let’s go.”
He pushed her ahead of him and into the tunnel. After they’d gone just a few steps, another explosion rocked the pathway. The walls shuddered and she stumbled.
“Run!” Nathan urged.
They fled down the passageway. She hit the bottom rung of the ladder and started to scramble up, but Nathan grabbed her ankle.
“Get your gun up. I’ll cover you from behind. Don’t hesitate to shoot. I’ll be right behind you.”
She gripped the pistol tighter and then hauled herself up the rungs. At the top she only hesitated a moment before she leaped through the opening and rolled rapidly away, her gun up.
Seeing no one, she called down to Nathan, “All clear!” But he was already pulling himself over the edge.
“Get to the jeep. They won’t be far behind.”
She got up and ran.
When they got to where Nathan had parked the jeep, to her surprise, he directed her toward the driver’s seat. “How are you behind the wheel?”
“I can drive.”
“You’ll know the area better than I do. Get us the hell out of here and I’ll try to keep any heat off us.”
She jumped into the driver’s seat, still holding the pistol in her left hand. She keyed the ignition and roared onto the bumpy path leading back to the highway.
“Any particular destination?” she yelled.
“Just keep off the main roads and get us as far from here as possible. We’ll figure out the rest later.”
She spun gravel and dirt in a wide arc when she turned onto the highway. She pressed the accelerator to the floor and checked her rearview mirror for any sign they were being followed.
As they approached the driveway to her parents’ house, a black SUV shot forward to block the road. She slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel to the left to avoid a collision.
She hit the ditch on the opposite side and nearly flipped. The jeep went up on two wheels and she wrestled for control. The jeep came down with enough force to jar her teeth and she rammed her foot to the floor once more.
Nathan jerked around in his seat, leaned out the window and fired off several rounds. Glass shattered in one of the SUV’s windows and a tire blew as the vehicle attempted to execute a turn around to pursue them.
“Nice shot,” Shea yelled.
“Keep driving. I’m sure they have more than one vehicle.”
She glanced in the rearview mirror to see yet another SUV barreling up on them. “Yeah. I’d say you’re right about that.”
She rounded a sharp corner and did a double take when a Suburban crossed the center lane, then veered into her lane before easing back over just enough to straddle the dotted line.
“I’ve always sucked at chicken.”
“Huh?” Nathan said without turning around. He squeezed off another set of rounds.
Shea gripped the pistol in one hand, leaned as far to the left as she could while still maintaining control of the jeep and began firing at the oncoming SUV.
That got Nathan’s attention. He jerked around just as the windshield exploded on the SUV and it veered wildly to the right after one of the front tires came apart, tossing pieces of rubber in all directions.
Shea passed on the left after yelling at Nathan to duck. Surprisingly, he didn’t offer a single argument. Once they were past, he rose cautiously back up and glanced over at her, a glimmer of a smile curving his lips.
“You’re such a badass. I like that about you.”
“They off our tail?”
“Yes, ma’am. All clear, at least for now. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
She glanced sideways at him. “You got a plan?”
“Yeah. It’s time to call in reinforcements.”
CHAPTER 22
SHEA drove steadily east, keeping to smaller roads as Nathan had directed. It had been hard for her not to hit the interstate at the first opportunity. Wouldn’t their pursuers expect them to stick to rural roads? Wouldn’t it be safer on the interstate where there were more cars?
Trying to psychoanalyze a faceless enemy had left her exhausted and on edge. She kept constant look out the rearview mirror until her neck ached from all the back and forth.
“Pull over,” Nathan said.
Startled, she glanced over at him.
He pointed to the sign for an upcoming gas station. “Pull in there so we can get gas, but first, we’ll switch so that I’m driving. I want you to stay in the passenger seat and pretend to be asleep. There’s a blanket and a cap. Pull it low over your face and cover up with the blanket. You’ve got cuts from the glass. I don’t want to raise any suspicions, nor do I want anyone to get a good look at you.”
She pulled to the side of the road and they hurriedly rotated. He handed her the blanket and arranged the cap over her hair, pulling it low so her eyes weren’t visible. After he was satisfied that she was sufficiently covered, he pulled back on the highway.
A few moments later, the jeep slowed.
“We’re pulling in. Keep still and pretend you’re asleep. I’ll pay the guy in cash so I don’t have to get out.”
Though she remained still as he’d directed, she kept watch from half-lidded eyes as an attendant walked over to pump their gas. Nathan rolled the window down, put a finger to his lips and then handed the man some money.
Nathan rolled the window back up and settled back in his seat. To anyone else, he looked relaxed, but Shea knew better. His eyes were in constant motion, looking left, right, ahead, and then checking all the mirrors.
His hands gripped the lower portion of the steering wheel and even his feet were in position in case he needed to drive away fast.
A few minutes later, the attendant appeared at the window holding the receipt. Nathan waved him off and eased away from the pump.
Still, Shea waited until they were on the road and Nathan reached over to touch her arm.
“You can sit up now.”
“Where will we go?” she asked as she pushed the blanket down her legs.
“I want to turn south and head back toward Crescent City. The jet is hangared at the airport there and is the most expedient method of travel, not to mention the safest if we can manage to get there in one piece.”
“We can’t leave yet! We don’t know if Grace is here. Or where she is. We need to be able to watch that surveillance footage.”
“I said I want us there so we have that option,” he said calmly. “I’m going to call my brothers in. I sent the footage to Donovan. I just hope to hell it was all uploaded before they blew the shit out of that room.”
“Who were they, Nathan? I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of it. No normal people come into a house and blow a hole in the wall. They looked…military.”
His expression tightened. His face darkened into a cloud and his eyes took on a brooding heat. “They certainly looked professional.”
“I’m scared. If these people are military, what chance do we have against them?”
Nathan dropped one hand from the wheel and reached for Shea’s hand. Her fingers trembled against his palm and he squeezed, unsure of what to say to reassure her.
Hell yes, they’d looked military. Black ops. Off the books. Just like KGI. Who knew who was running the show, but they damn sure meant bu
siness.
Shea stiffened as if just remembering something and then pulled out the small leather journal that she’d found in the tunnel. She ran her finger over the surface, a mixture of grief and uncertainly in her eyes.
“You can turn the light on. It won’t bother me,” he said softly. It was getting dark enough that he doubted she’d be able to read for long in the fading light.
She let out a sigh that was tinged with sadness. “I don’t want to draw that much notice. I’ll read it when we get to wherever we’re going.” Then she glanced up. “Are we getting a room? What are we doing exactly?”
“I’ll get us a room. Not the same place as before. Then I’m going to call my brothers. After we talk, you and I will decide—together—what our next step will be.”
She stared at him in a way that made him want to pull the jeep over, forget the danger they were in and haul her into his arms.
It was like he hung the damn moon, and all he could think was that he’d damn near gotten her killed because he hadn’t listened to his first instinct, which was to get her as far away as possible and lock her in the deepest, most secure vault he could find.
“Thank you,” she said in a sweet, husky voice. “It means a lot when you say we. It makes me feel like I’m not quite so alone. It makes me not quite so afraid.”
A possessive snarl rose to his lips. He had to swallow it back. This caveman reaction he had around her was baffling. It took over his senses and rendered him incapable of rational thought where she was concerned.
Getting so crazy over a woman simply wasn’t him. He liked—no, he loved—women. He mostly understood them or at least he knew the right things to say and when to keep his mouth shut.
He never had a shortage of women friends or even sexual partners. At least before his captivity. But none ever commanded this overwhelming insanity that seemed to grip him when he was with her. Hell, not even with her. All he had to do was think about her.
“It’s going to be we from now on,” he bit out. “There is no you. No me. Only us.”