Before she could react, he wrapped an arm around her and pressed a cloth over her mouth.
She clawed and tried to scream, but it was muffled under the running sink water, and each gulp of air she drew in was tinged with something sharp and chemical.
Everything blurred, and her body turned even heavier until she sagged against his grip.
She turned her gaze toward the door, toward where she knew her alphas were waiting, but she couldn’t even call out for them. Eventually, even holding her eyes open became too difficult, and darkness overcame her.
Chapter Twenty
Trent rested his back against the wall outside the bathroom. “Do you think she’s sick?”
Kyle paced the hallway, being the type to move when nervous. “Just hormones and adrenaline, I bet.”
Anne’s body still rested in the room, Marshall waiting to see if she wanted to see it once more before they moved it.
The shit luck of it all wore on Trent. Alison had risked so much to try to save the girl, and it had all been in vain. According to the doctor, the girl’s wounds hadn’t all been recent. He doubted she’d have lived much longer regardless, meaning that even if Alison had managed to find her a little quicker, she might not have been able to save her.
Not that it would ease Alison’s mind. The women blamed herself for everything, as if she needed to be perfect to hold the entire world together.
He’d seen it in the way the other omegas had looked at Alison, like some guardian of theirs that they werealways in awe of. Alison took that to heart, put too much on her shoulders.
It was impossible to save everyone. That was a lesson Trent knew all too well, one of the reasons he’d gotten out of his work with the FBI. He’d seen too many people he couldn’t save, had grown tired of seeing them die pointless deaths.
That ground a person down, and watching Alison rush to the bathroom made Trent fear she’d reached her limit.
He rubbed his hands over his eyes, the water still running.
Was she crying? Using the sink as a way to mask the sounds? That seemed a lot like her stubborn ass to do. She didn’t care for anyone to see her weakness, even if they wanted to help her with that weight.
“How long are we going to wait?” Trent asked.
Daniel twisted his head, as if he could see through the door. “It’s been a while, I guess. She’s probably hiding.”
Kyle snorted before stopping his pacing and walking over to shove open the door.
Inside, the bathroom was empty.
Terror swamped Trent. Not anger, not frustration, just sheer terror. Had she run? Was she going to target the slavers on her own? He didn’t want to be back here to identify her body next.
“I swear, if she ran—” Daniel’s threat was cut off when they spied a white cloth on the floor.
Kyle knelt and picked it up. He brought it to his face and inhaled, his expression hardening. “Chloroform.”
Trent swallowed as he spied the other door, the one they hadn’t realized was there, that opened to the emergency exit staircase.
Alison had been abducted, this time for real…
* * * *
Alison rolled, her head pounding and her stomach revolting. She heaved, gagging, a horrible taste in her mouth and down her throat she couldn’t get rid of.
Nothing came up, but that didn’t stop the heaving.
It took a while for her to catch her breath, and when she did, when she sat up, she found herself on a bed she didn’t recognize.
The bathroom. The chloroform.It took another moment for her to realize what had happened, even she didn’t know exactly where she was.
On the desk, across from the bed, sat a silver letter opener. She bolted from the bed, wanting to wrap her fingers around the make-shift weapon.
