Not pinned.
He stepped inside the room to look at the door.
Holy shit.
Everything in Seth hardened and freaked out at the same time.
Thanks to his training, he kept the freakout internal. A knife had been thrust into the door, pinning a photo to it. In the photo, Mara lay bound and gagged, with the knife point stabbed through her throat.
Scrawled on the bottom of the picture, someone had written. “Her turn to die. Your turn to suffer.”
Seth’s head swam as fear, anger, and panic rushed their way through his system.
Someone had Mara.
They wanted to kill her so that Seth would suffer.
“Seth? You find anything?”
He took a deep breath before he could answer. “In here, Claus.”
His tone alerted his buddy. He heard Gray tell Amber to wait, and told Boomer to Guard before he entered the bathroom.
He followed Seth’s gaze and swore. “Who the hell would do that?”
Seth shook his head. “And where the hell is she?”
Amber spoke through the door. “What is it? Should I call the others? Should I call Marcus?”
He heard the fear in her voice. It echoed the fear raging through his system. Gray answered her in the affirmative. He told her to tell everyone that Mara had been taken and that they were organizing a search.
Seth wanted to run after Mara, but he didn’t have a clue who had her or why.
Who the hell would want him to suffer like that?
Maki? Could it be connected to Maki?
He reached for the photo, but Gray stopped him. “Take a picture, we’ll leave it there for evidence for Marcus.”
Nodding, Seth steadied his hands enough to zoom in and take several pictures. It was a close-up shot, but maybe they’d find something in the background.
If he focused on the task, maybe he wouldn’t simply explode from fear.
Gray touched his shoulder. “Babs. Focus. Everyone’s meeting in the kitchen. We’ll get her.”
Because not getting her wasn’t an option.
Chapter 21
Last Night Of The World
Mara winced as she woke up. Why was she so sore?
Sure, her body had enjoyed more sexual adventures in the last few days than she’d had in a lifetime, but that shouldn’t mean pain.
The worst was in her shoulders and wrists. Rolling out dough? It would take hundreds of batches to make her feel this bad.
As her brain cleared, Mara tried to squirm deeper into the pillows. Maybe if she fell back asleep, she’d wake up feeling better.
