“B-baby doll?” My voiced cracked as my legs wobbled. For once, luck was on my fucking side.
A shudder came through the line. “Fuck! I thought I would never hear your voice again,” Layla cried.
That hole in my heart mended as I held the phone with a shaky hand. “Baby doll? Are you hurt? Are the babies? Where are you? Talk to me.” My knees were knocking together, so I sat on the bench. Dead, suffering silence ensued as I fixated on the phone, waiting. “Layla, are you there?”
“S-Sam!” Her voice came and in out.
“I’m here,” I responded, my heart in my throat. There were four bars, indicating the bad connection wasn’t on my end.
“If you can hear me, hold on,” Layla said in a frantic voice.
Jordyn gnawed on a fingernail. Dane crossed his arms over his chest as they both hovered around me.
“Sam, can you hear me now?” Layla asked.
I sighed. “Yes, baby doll. Are you hurt? Are the babies? Where are you?” I repeated.
Layla sniffled. “I’m okay. Tired, sore, and I need blood, Sam. I haven’t had any since I was taken.” She heaved a breath. “I’m worried for the babies.”
It was heart-fucking gut-wrenching to hear the despair in her tone as I tried to think of a solution.
“Layla, this is Dane,” he said, stepping in, probably because he could see panic on my face. “Where are you?”
“I’m at a cabin in the mountains of West Virginia,” she said. “The van I was in crashed. The two men who kidnapped me are dead.”
That snapped me out of my funk. “West Virginia. Crash. Are you sure you’re not hurt?” Dane, Jordyn, and I swapped worried looks.
Painful silence stretched through the line once again.
“Layla,” Jordyn snapped. “Answer us. Did we lose you?”
“Sorry, a storm is coming. I’m fine,” Layla said in a distressed tone.
She wasn’t, but she was alive, and for the moment, I could breathe. “Jordyn, have Sawyer trace the call. I’ll be right behind you.” I flicked my head at a retreating Jordyn. “Dane, can you go with her? Fill Webb and Tripp in on your brother.” I needed a moment alone with Layla and to calm my nerves before I bolted out of here.
He held up his hand. “I will, but, Layla, are you still with those dead men? If so, you can try their blood.”
“I’m not. I’m with a shifter who’s helping me. Hold on a sec. I’ll put you on speaker.”
Again, Dane and I worewhat-the-fuckexpressions. Had the shifter escaped from Intech’s clutches?
Once she had us on speaker, Layla said, “I’m with Sergeant Rebekah Whyte. We’re using her sat phone.”
How the fuck did Layla meet a military shifter? I didn’t believe in coincidences. Maybe they were after the same people we were. I’d heard of an elite group of shifters in the army. Special Forces, if I wasn’t mistaken. Their role was similar to ours—counterterrorism, manhunts, hostage rescue, and essentially to take down criminals in the supernatural community, like Roman Brown.
“Hi, guys. I’m a medic in the Army Special Forces,” Rebekah said. “You might have heard of the Scorpion Angels. If not, I’m sure your father has, Sam. Anyway, we don’t have much time. I’m worried someone can trace this phone. We’re heading to the ranger’s station. In the event that we’re separated or something happens to us, my captain’s name is Leo Paulson out of Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Layla and I are in the West Virginia mountains south of Morgantown. I’ll text the coordinates to this number.” She talked as if she was on speed.
Silence stretched over the line for a split second.
“Okay, you’re not on speaker anymore,” Layla said. “Rebekah is gathering her gear. There’s a storm coming. Sam, you—”
The line went dead.
Motherfucker. My growl shook the mirrors on the wall. I tapped in the number of the most recent call. The line rang and rang. Another growl flew from my mouth.
“I’ll meet you in the command center,” Dane said before he darted out.
I was about to pull a Dane and throw the phone against the wall, but then it rang. I fumbled to answer. “Layla?”
