Kate Allenton (3 page)

strong. Who the hell were these guys? He grabbed
her
arm, and as if a light bulb had turned on, she
finally recalled the training she’d learned. She turned, using her elbow and coming down hard and
quick on her assailant’s wrist. The sound of bone cracking didn’t deter her, and she didn’t waste any
time celebrating. She used her palm and shoved
it up
under the guy’s nose. An oozing spray of
blood gushed out. She chanced a glance at the other
two;
neither had moved. While the guy with the
gun cupped his face, she jerked
her knee up into his groin.

    
He doubled over. His face turned red. He took a deep breath. “Samuel, get her under control.”

    
Jonah struggled against his captor, to no avail. The other guy who’d been watching raised his
gun and pulled the trigger. Her life flashed before her eyes. The visions of Ethan, Gracie, and Tara
were short-lived. Her body jarred when it was struck. She was expecting it to hurt worse. She’d been
expecting blood to be oozing out of her chest and for the impact to take her to the floor. She

glanced down at the bee like sting. It hadn’t been a bullet. It was a projectile that had a liquid in it
and a needle on the end. The needle was embedded and protruding from her chest just above her
heart. The bastard had shot her with a damn dart. “Son of a bitch.”

    
Her vision blurred as Samuel stepped closer to her. She could almost feel her immune system
going to work to fight the foreign fluid as it coursed through her veins. She might go down, but she
wouldn’t be down long…thanks to her supergene that kept her healthy. She stumbled, her heavy
limbs much harder to control. Her legs collapsed, unable to hold her weight. She felt herself falling
and yet couldn’t brace herself for impact. Strong arms wrapped around her. Her eyes closed, unable
to hold them open any longer.

    
“You could have just cooperated,” the man she’d been fighting with whispered in her ear
before the darkness sucked her under.

                                                 
Chapter
2

    
Cathy dozed in and out of consciousness. Her
heavy
lids wouldn’t open no matter how much
she willed it. Her whole body felt heavy, as though
a
boulder or something big held her down. Her
head was hazy, and her mind a jumbled mess. The
smell
of leather drifted to her nose, leather and
coffee. Men were talking nearby, the same men
whose
voices she recognized from her condo. The
same jerks who had drugged her and knocked her
out.
Even though their voices registered just
above a whisper over the hum of the plane engines,
she
would have recognized them anywhere.
Every one of her nerves was on high alert. Her
body was
steadily fighting the liquid, whatever the
hell it had been. The dose
of whatever had been in the vial wasn’t enough to
keep her down. She
was already starting to wake.

    
“He’s going to rip out your throat,” one of the unidentified men said.

    
“He’ll understand,” another unfamiliar voice replied. “I still can’t believe she got the drop on
you.”

    
A deep menacing growl pierced the air before a long exhale.

    
“He warned me. But, after seeing her for myself, I didn’t believe him. Hell, she looks like a
stupid blonde bimbo. He didn’t tell me she was a fighter?” Now that was a voice she recognized. It
was the man whose ass she’d kicked. “Don’t worry. I won’t underestimate her again. She’ll be putty
in my hands before the end of the week.”

    
Like hell. That stupid blonde bimbo remark just begged for retaliation…again.

    
She felt fingers brush back a lock of hair on her forehead.

    
“It’s a shame what fate has in store for her. She really is a looker.”

    
She used all of her strength to stir her body to cooperate, though she’d probably only moved an
inch and still couldn’t open her eyes.

    
“She’s waking,” one of them said.

     
“Not yet she isn’t.” She felt a prick in her arm. If she ever got her hands on a gun, she was
going to shoot the bastard. He was going to die a slow, agonizing death; maybe she’d inject him with
his own drugs before she killed him. That last thought had barely entered her mind before the

darkness sucked her back under.

                                                      
****

     
Unsure how much time had passed, Cathy pushed through the thick fog clouding her brain. She
slowly blinked her eyes open and tried to focus
her
vision. Standing at a table across the room was a
man. The same man who had shown up at her house;
the
same man she’d kicked in the balls.

He hovered over the dining room table running
his
fingers along the papers on the surface.
From her angle, she couldn’t make out what he
was
looking at. But if she had to guess from his
facial features, he seemed pretty amused. Her gaze travelled around the unfamiliar room. The walls
were beige and non-descript. There was a coffee
table in
front of her and a muted television across
the room that danced with images of an old western.
Had
she landed in hell? Was watching old
westerns a form of torture her captors were going
to use?
Just shoot her now. She tried to move her
arm to push herself up, but she came up short.
She
glanced down; an IV was inserted into her arm
and the line ran up to a bag full of clear liquid which
was
hanging from a medical stand.

     
Cathy reached for the
IV, to pull it out. Her movement was stilled when a
large hairy hand
landed on top of hers. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

     
She glanced up at the man but didn’t say anything. How had he moved from across the room
so quickly? She hadn’t heard him make a sound. His hand was unmoved over hers. The placement a
bit intimate for a man whose ass she planned to kick again.

     
“It’s just a saline drip. It’s helping to flush the tranquilizer out of your system.”

     
“The one you put there.” She’d meant her words to come out as an accusation, but they came
out scratchy and thick with sleep.

     
He removed his hand and gently lifted her head before grabbing a cup from a nearby table. He
held it up to her lips. “Drink this first, and then you can yell at me.”

     
Cathy glanced down into the cup and pressed her lips tight. She might be blonde, but she was
far from stupid. No matter how parched her throat was. She wouldn’t be sipping the unknown
liquid that could potentially kill her.

     
His gaze moved over her face before briefly landing on her lips. He grinned and looked deep
into her eyes as he sipped from the cup and swallowed. “It’s only water, honey. I promise.”

Cathy’s gaze moved from the water to the man’s shoulder. She held in her grin. This was far
from over. She’d seen the gun strapped in his shoulder holster. She parted her lips for him to tilt the
cup. His green inviting gaze held hers. It was almost hypnotizing, almost memorizing… almost. She
pressed her palm against the cushion to hold herself
up,
leaning closer into the stranger’s embrace.
She drank the cool liquid that was, indeed, water.
She slowly
moved her other hand until her fingers
felt the cold metal. It was still too soon to breathe
her
first breath of relief. She yanked the gun out
of his holster, cocked the hammer, and pointed
it at the
stranger’s head. The man stiffened, sloshing
the remaining water down her shirt. “Don’t try anything stupid, or I’ll blow your brains out.”

    
The stranger put the cup down on the table
and held
up his hands in surrender. “Easy, doll, you
don’t understand.”

    
She motioned with the barrel back over to
the table.
“Step back.”

    
He stood and took several steps backward with
his
hands in the air. “Let me explain.”

    
Cathy held the gun steady in her right hand.
She
lifted her left arm and used her teeth to pull off
the tape holding the needle secured in her arm.
“You can
start by telling me who the hell you are
and what you did with Jonah.”

    
The drugs in her system were churning. The
gun in
her hand was getting heavier by the second.
The stranger stepped toward
her. She lowered the gun to the floor and shot
between his feet.

Anyone in the house or wherever the heck she was would have heard the noise. They’d be coming.
She staggered across the room on clumsy feet so her back wasn’t exposed to the door. “That was
your only warning. Stay the fuck back and tell me who you are.”

    
“My name is Edward Palomeres.”

    
“Where the hell is Jonah?”

    
Edward started to lower his hands, and she raised the gun higher. The move had its intended
effect. Like magic, his hands moved higher with the gun. This guy wasn’t stupid. Well, maybe he
was. He had called her dumb blonde bimbo. “I’m only going to ask you one more time. Where. The.
Hell. Is. Jonah!”

    
“He’s in the next apartment.”

    
Cathy circled toward the table. She narrowed her eyes when she realized what he’d been looking
at when she’d woken up. It was her map. The map with the GPS coordinates of Ethan’s last known
location. The sticky note was still attached.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
If these guys were the bad guys, she might
as well have put up a billboard with blinking lights that read,
Here’s where you can find Ethan.

    
She returned her gaze to Edward. “What do you want with me, Ed?”

    
Edward cleared his throat. “My name is Edward, not Ed. I’m under strict orders to keep you
secure until further notice.”

    
“Well, Eddie…that’s going to be a little hard to do.” She waved the gun. “Seeing as how I have
your gun, and I have no intention of staying.”

    
“Ms. Fleming…”

    
“Save it.” Cathy scanned the room. The evil
syringes
were lying on the table next to the map.
He’d probably meant to knock her out again. She motioned for him to move back to the couch.
“Do you always take stuff that doesn’t belong to
you?”

    
He cocked his brow. “I’m actually surprised
you had
the coordinates. I thought he’d be more
careful than that.”

    
Cathy raised her brow as she picked up two
syringes
and pocketed them in her jacket. She
waved the gun toward the door. “Start walking.”

    
Edward grinned before moving to the door
and
pulling it open. Cathy stayed five steps behind
him, out of reach. “Where would you like to go?
Would
you like a tour of my facilities?”

    
Facilities….well, hell. “You’re taking me to
Jonah,
and then you’re our ticket out.” She waved
the gun again toward the door. “Nice and slow,
Ed.”

    
Edward moved two doors
down and pushed the door open. “You might
want to put the gun
down now. The others will see you as a threat and act accordingly.”

    
Others. She pulled one of the syringes out of her pocket, popped the lid, and held it in her grip.
“Thanks for the warning.”

    
Edwards smile slipped into a frown, and he raised both brows. “So be it. You can’t say I didn’t
warn you.”

    
She reached out with her senses and felt Jonah was inside. She sensed the familiarity of his gift
immediately. She wasn’t getting her hopes up. The fact that she felt his gift meant he was still alive,
but it didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt. Her nerves tingled against the other nervous energy licking her
skin. Whoever else was in that room was nervous, and not only that, they had special gifts too. She
took a deep breath, using the gift she hated to use on others, well, until now. Now she was thankful
for the ability. She inhaled long and deep, draining away the powers and potency of whatever gifts
she sensed from the occupants on the other side of the door. Not working at full capacity and still
groggy from the tranquilizer, she did the best she could. They might not be completely drained, but
she’d be damned if they’d have the upper hand. The extra energy surged through her and raised the
hair on her arms. Her body strummed to life, forcefully awaking every cell and negating the