He had a point. Protecting herself was a sure way to keep from ever having a relationship with him. On the other hand, if he was right about her, and she was a threat to him and his people, what would be the point of even trying again? That didn’t make sense. She was just setting both of them up for more heartache.
Brad was clearly relieved to get her back, and she quickly caught up with her customers. The fierce rush didn’t seem to slow down even as the end of the night approached and they were nearing last call. Although the crowd had thinned somewhat and the chaos wasn’t nearly as bad and the bouncers had managed to shut down any arguments quickly before they’d turned into full-blown fights, Rory had begun to feel a dark shadowy threat looming close. She scanned the bar over and over but couldn’t find it.
There was no one she could identify fitting with that malevolent shadow directed toward her. Customers exited as the closing hour drew near. Brad announced last call. Rory paid even closerattention, but no one left in the bar seemed to be a threat. Once everyone was gone, her radar continued to tell her she was in trouble, but she couldn’t tell where the threat was coming from.
She helped close with Lydia, the two waitresses, the barbacks and Brad. They made short work of it.
Gideon, we’re leaving the bar now. I think something is wrong. Lydia and I are going out the back way, and we’ll take the shortcut home.
Lydia opened the back door leading into the parking lot as Rory pulled on her jacket.
Javier and I will come to escort you home. Wait for us.
That sounds like a good idea.
“Wait for me, Lydia,” she called. “I need to use my inhaler before we go.”
The moment she stepped outside the bar to call Lydia back in, she felt the terrible premonition of danger surrounding her. A car pulled up beside Lydia, and two men leapt out, masks covering their faces. One caught at Lydia, jerking her toward the vehicle.
Rory ripped Lydia away from him, kicking the man in his belly, driving him back. She spun Lydia around and thrust her back toward the open door of the bar.
“Run. Get inside now. Run.” She pushed authority into her voice as well as compulsion. “Lock the door.”Gideon.She ran after Lydia back toward the bar.
Something crashed down hard against the back of her head, and everything went black.
18
Red? Baby, you need to answer me. I know you can hear me. Open your eyes. You aren’t breathing right.
Gideon had to find her fast. His entire team was waiting. They’d spread out looking for her, trying to track her, but they’d come up with nothing. Rory had shoved Lydia back into the bar before she’d been taken, and Lydia had only seen three men in masks. She couldn’t even identify the car that Rory had been shoved into.
The men had attempted to take Lydia, but Rory had ripped her right out of her captor’s hands, kicked one in the belly and thrust her toward the bar, putting her body between them. Lydia had done exactly what Rory had told her to do, although she hadn’t slammed and locked the door until she saw Rory go down, blood all over the back of her head.
Gideon had been sharing Rory’s mind, and he’d felt that crushing blow, blinding pain, and everything had gone black. He’d put birds in the air, but he had no idea what to look for. She was gonethat fast. No direction. Javier and the others had spread out while Gideon had searched from the air, trying to find her.
Throughout the next few hours, he would feel faint stirrings as if she struggled to come to. Pain. Icy shivers. Moments when she was semilucid and someone was asking her questions. Repeating the same question over and over. There was something over her head, restricting her sight, her ability to breathe. She hadn’t used her inhaler before leaving the bar, and now, with the covering over her head, it was nearly impossible for her to breathe. She struggled to follow what was being asked of her.
The voices were too muffled. He was certain she had a concussion. She couldn’t understand what they were saying, so he couldn’t understand. He forced himself to be patient. To be alert when she showed the slightest sign of consciousness.
Red, tell me where you are.Gideon spoke very firmly, making it a command, trying to get past the haze in her mind.
Don’t know. Can’t see.
Impressions.
Echoes. Pipes. Dripping water.
Her breathing was rough. She was gasping. Wheezing.
Baby, slow your breathing. Try to match mine.Deliberately, he drew air into his lungs, sending her the image. In. Out. Trying to get her to follow him.
Something hard smashed into her stomach, driving the air out of her. Out of him. Another blow landed on her left cheek. Then her right one. The blows rained down on her, one after another, until, once again, everything faded away.
Gideon swore, the dark shadows in him spreading until he felt as if he were being consumed. He stood on his rooftop, the sun pouring down, directing his spies to every part of the wharf. The car couldn’t have gone far. He’d been too close. He should havebeen able to track her even after they’d knocked her out. They’d disappeared too fast. That meant they hadn’t been on the street long enough for his birds to spot them.
The men had taken her somewhere close and concealed her. They were interrogating her. At one point, he’d felt the slice of a knife going into her skin over and over. They were torturing her. Was it Whitney’s men? Was he angry because she hadn’t done the job he’d sent her out to do? It would be like Whitney to keep her from breathing properly.
“Anything?” Javier demanded.
