Night Resurrected (19 page)

toward the Humvee. Staying in shadow,

taking her time, Remy nevertheless

moved quickly, and soon she was right

at the vehicle. It was hidden by a large

scrub of bushes in the shadow of the

building. She’d only seen it by chance

because of the way the moonlight hit the

metal.

She listened. Waited. Breathed.

She heard nothing. Crouching low,

she ran up to the truck and rose slowly

on her toes to look inside the windows.

It was dark, and hard to see for certain,

but she didn’t spy any shape that looked

human.

Once she was sure no one was about,

she carefully tried the door. It was

unlocked.

Heart beating nearly in her throat, she

eased it open, aware that an interior light

might come on but that she had to take

the chance. When the white light cut into

the darkness in what felt like a silent

explosion, she hardly winced. After

another quick look around, she climbed

inside and closed the door silently.

Blessedly, the light went out.

Hard to discern details in the dark,

but she saw that the front seats were

empty. On the floor in the rear, however

was a duffel bag. It could contain some

goodies—including a hint as to whether

this was Ian’s truck or not—but now

was not the time to dig through it. There

could even be a
gun
! Once she got away

from here . . .

Remy bent down to look under the

steering wheel well, where the secret

compartment with the ignition switch

had been located on Ian’s truck.

All at once the light went on and she

felt a waft of chill air over her back.

“Well. What do we have here?”

She froze. The woman’s voice

skittered over her skin like a thousand

spiders. She knew that voice. Very well.

Pulling out from her awkward

position, Remy found herself facing a

woman who was holding the gun she

coveted. Her white-blond hair was even

more silvery than usual thanks to the

moonlight, and the harsh shadows

highlighted her attractive but hard

features. Her thin lips were curled into

an unfriendly smile, red with color even

in the dead of night. She was tall,

slender, and wiry with muscle.

“Hello, Lacey,” Remy said, so tense

she felt ill.

“This must be my lucky day,

Goldwyn,” Lacey said, speaking to the

man who stood behind her. “Remington

Truth. In the flesh. Actually climbing

into my truck. As if she
wanted
to go

with me. How much better can it get?”

At

her

words,

Remy’s

heart

plummeted and her knees turned wobbly.

Oh God.
She knows my real name?

Lacey was nearly as powerful and

ruthless as Ian. Not only was she a

bounty hunter, but she’d been crystalled

by the Strangers as a reward for her

loyalty and hard work, which made her

immortal and that much more difficult to

kill. Her small blue crystal, embedded in

the soft skin just below her collarbone,

was displayed by a special hole cut into

her leather corset. Laced tightly, the

corset hugged the bounty hunter’s

slender, boyish figure, making her small

breasts appear larger. Her arms were

long and slender, corded with muscle

and decorated with leather wristbands.

But the blue crystal, smaller than Remy’s

missing gem, showed proudly through its

special opening, glowing in the night.

Remy had encountered Lacey when

she first met up with Ian, and several

other times after that. The woman hated

her on sight, partly because she was with

Ian—who was the best at what he did,

and whom Lacey wanted to partner with

—and partly because Lacey wanted to

be Ian’s partner in
every
way.

“I’ll shoot the signal flare,” Goldwyn

said, also holding a gun. Remy had only

met

him

once,

briefly,

but

she

remembered him well. He was an albino

with watery red eyes, and his chest was

as wide as the Humvee’s door, although

he wasn’t crystalled. Nevertheless,

getting away from either of them was

going to be pretty damn impossible.

“The fla—
No
, I don’t want you—”

But Lacey was too late; Goldwyn had

raised his gun and shot it into the air.

A brief arc of light curved above the

trees as Lacey turned on her partner.

“Not yet! You cocked it all up now,” she

said, gritting her teeth. “Damn.” She

turned to Remy, her features brittle.

“Well, we’ll have a little time before he

gets here.” Her smile became even more

unpleasant and Remy’s insides curdled.

“We have some catching up to do, don’t

we, my dear? Step out of the truck, nice

and slow now. Where’s that dog of

yours?” she asked, looking around

sharply.

Remy clamped her mouth shut. She

definitely wasn’t going to call Dantès

now. The bitch would probably shoot

him on sight.
Damn.
Now her best hope

was that Dantès would find Wyatt—no,

wait. Wyatt had double-crossed her.

He wasn’t going to be coming after

her if he’d taken the crystal, was he? She

was very confused. And very alone.

Remy felt a cold shock, as if a bucket

of water had just been dumped over her

head. What were they going to do with

her, now that they knew they had

Remington Truth? Bluffing was her only

option, so she said, “Remington Truth?

What are you talking about?”

Lacey backhanded her with her gun

hand, and Remy saw stars. Black waves

of nausea engulfed her and the pain sent

her spiraling into the dark memories of

her ordeal with Seattle. Her cheek hurt

and her head pounded, but she fought out

of the black vortex and forced her eyes

open. She made herself look at the

ground through her flashing, watery

vision, focusing on the shapes and the

reality of where she was . . . and the fury

she felt toward this woman.

“Don’t waste my time pretending. I

know who you are,” Lacey said. “And

you’re going to make me rich and

powerful. I won’t be hoboing it around

all the time anymore, once I get you back

to the Strangers at Mecca. I’ll be a

cocking
hero
.”

“I can’t imagine how that’s going to

happen,” Remy said, keeping her voice

strong with conviction. For now her only

option seemed to be to confuse and

delay.

Lacey’s eyes narrowed, and for a

moment Remy thought she was going to

hit her again. But Goldwyn put a hand on

Lacey’s arm and said, “Won’t help us if

she’s dead or messed up. Wait till he

gets here.”

“I’ll mess her up all right,” Lacey

promised. “Then we’ll see if he—” She

clamped her lips shut and glared at

Remy.

Her insides were a mess, her cheek

and jaw throbbed, and now Remy had

more questions: who was “he” and what

had Lacey been about to say? Possible

answers trammeled through her mind—

none of them pleasant. She felt as if

she’d been placed in the middle of a

nightmare and had no idea what was

going on.

“How long should we wait?”

Goldwyn asked. “He didn’t respond to

the signal flare. Maybe he’s out of

range.”

“Another ten minutes. Then we book.

In the meantime, bind her.” Lacey

gestured with her gun, and Goldwyn

grabbed Remy’s arms, forcing her hands

behind her back.

She felt him digging in his pocket,

then the strong, slender plastic the

bounty hunters favored for handcuffs

were twisted around her wrists. It was

painful and tight, cutting into her skin.

When Goldwyn finished, he smoothed

his hand up and down over the curve of

her rear, slowly and intimately.

“Very nice,” he breathed into her ear

before stepping away.

Remy swallowed hard and kept her

mind blank as black terror edged there.

This was not going to be like Seattle.

She couldn’t live through that again.

N o .
She struggled, fought back the

fear and the memories with every bit of

mental strength she had. If she let them

in, she’d be done. She wasn’t going to

think about anything but how to escape.

Not the future. Not about who was

coming. Not about Wyatt. Just now. And

here. How.

Lacey gave her a shove and Remy

bounced against the Humvee, her face

smashing into the metal edge of the door,

then away. Pain burst over her lip and

she tasted blood as she spun helplessly.

She caught herself before she fell to the

ground, tumbling instead onto the front

seat of the Humvee, barely missing the

steering wheel. She landed facedown,

her injured cheek and cut lip crushed

into the seat.
Bitch
.

The minute Lacey put her gun away,

Remy was going to whistle for Dantès. It

was her only chance. Once she got put in

the truck and driven off, she was done.

Lacey and Goldwyn conferred in low

voices and Remy tried to keep an eye on

them, waiting for them to let their guard

down. But Lacey still held the gun, and

the pain in Remy’s head made it hard to

focus. She had to fight to keep from

succumbing to the hovering darkness of

oblivion.

Then her captors stopped talking and

Remy heard the sound of someone

approaching. It took great effort, but she

dragged herself up and out of the truck,

wobbly on her feet, just in time to see

Ian Marck walk into the moonlight.

Chapter 10

R
emy’s first reaction was relief, which

immediately changed to uncertainty

when her captors greeted Ian readily.

She leaned against the truck, the only

thing keeping her upright. Blood dripped

from her lip and her head felt two sizes

too big.

“You found her,” Ian said as he

approached with long, easy strides.

When he barely glanced over, Remy’s

heart sank into her nauseated belly. The

fact that he didn’t sound surprised made

her feel even worse.

“You didn’t respond to the signal,”

Lacey told him.

“I saw no need. As you can see, I

was close enough to get here quickly.”

Now Ian turned to look at her. “Damn.

What the fuck happened to her?”

“She was mouthy,” Lacey said.

“Pissed me off.”

Remy didn’t have the energy to

speak, but she was certain he read the

sentiment in her murderous glare. Ian

shook his head and turned back to Lacey.

“She doesn’t have the crystal.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

Remy wondered the same thing.

“She didn’t tell you?” Ian said,

moving to stand next to her. “I was with

her for a while, then we had to scatter

when the zombies attacked. I thought I

lost her.” He gave Remy a tight, cold

smile, and it was all she could do not to

spit in his face. But she wasn’t stupid

enough to let her emotions get the best of

her. She had to remain calm and cool

and think about her next steps.

“She didn’t say nothing,” Goldwyn

replied. “You were with her?”

“Didn’t I say that?” Ian replied, his

tones unpleasant as he raked over Remy

with his eyes. “Watch her,” he ordered

the albino, gesturing to Remy. Then he

turned to Lacey and took her arm,

leading her far enough away that their

conversation was inaudible.

Still hoping for any opportunity to

escape, Remy eyed the two of them.

Lacey bristled as she faced Ian, speaking

intensely. But as Remy watched, Ian’s

body language changed: he relaxed,

eased closer to the silvery blond woman

in the sort of sexy slouch a man did

when he was interested in a female,

bringing his hips a little closer, head

tilting to the side as he looked down at