Page 101 of Trap ’N’ Trace

“Angus!” She tore across the driveway, hitting the tree line at a dead run. Branches whipped at her face, slicing into her skin. Her heart hammered, and her pulse roared in her ears. The woods were nearly pitch black and she stumbled, righting herself before face-planting into a rock. She glanced to her right, gratified to see Angus keeping pace.

Crunching leaves and branches came from behind her. He’s coming.

She ran faster, pushed herself harder until her thighs and calves screamed in protest.

A sliver of light from a break in the clouds lit something ahead. Water. She veered around the puddle then tripped, forcing her to step into the water. Mud sucked at her foot and she went down on her knees. Mucky water splashed in her face, obscuring her vision.

Oh shit. Shit. She couldn’t see.

She drew in ragged breaths, swiping at the muck in her eyes while reaching out blindly to steady herself. Her hand made contact with the very thing she’d tripped over. At first, she couldn’t identify the object. A second later, she froze. Her throat constricted, and she nearly screamed. The thing she’d tripped over was—

A body. The clouds gave way just long enough for her to glimpse an embroidered nametag.

“Oh no.” She covered her mouth with her hand, swallowing hard to keep from vomiting the remnants of food in her stomach.

It was Manny—the flower delivery guy.

Angus whimpered. “Shhh,” she crooned. If he barked, he’d give away their location.

The puppy quieted, prancing nervously a few feet away.

She pushed with her hands, but the mud sucked her in deeper. More crunching. Closer this time. A burst of adrenaline refueled her determination. Stifling a cry of rage, she tugged first one foot free of the mud, then the other. One of her shoes came off as she pulled from the muck.

“Angus, let’s go,” she whispered, and they took off again.

She had no idea how far they’d run from the castle. Fifty yards. Eighty. A hundred…

Her chest heaved, her muscles ached, and the foot without a shoe was cut up from sharp branches and rocks and stung like a mother.

Another break in the clouds glinted off a building up ahead. The old document bunker. She hadn’t been inside the place for years. The thing was like a fortress, with concrete block walls and heavy, locking metal doors. If she could get there before he caught up to them, she’d be safe until help arrived.

Kat raced to the building and tugged on the handle. It didn’t budge. It should have been unlocked. They hadn’t stored anything there since the fire twenty years ago. Now all her family’s valuable documents were either stored in a bank vault or on hard drives.

Twigs snapped. She jerked her head around. “Open. Dear God, please open!”

She gritted her teeth, pulling harder on the handle. Her arm and shoulder muscles screamed from the strain. It still didn’t budge. The snapping of limbs behind her grew louder.

Kat planted her shoeless foot on the concrete wall beside the door. With another mighty heave, the door squeaked then opened. She fell backward on her ass, and a bolt of pain lanced up her spine.

A dark figure crashed through the trees.

Her pulse rate ramped higher. She pushed to her feet, opening the door just enough for her and Angus to slip inside. With a shaking hand, she fumbled for the light switch, praying the power hadn’t been cut off. Long, tubular bulbs flickered to life. She pulled the door shut and twisted the lock on the knob.

The handle jiggled and she jumped back, holding her breath. The handle jiggled again then went silent. Relief had her sagging to the point where she almost collapsed on the floor.

Her chest continued sawing as she sucked in damp, musty air. She turned to take in their surroundings. A charred desk in one corner. Burned remains of the old oak filing cabinets. A lone fire extinguisher, and—

A river of sweat trickled between her shoulder blades. The other door. She’d forgotten there were two doors to the repository. Was it locked?

She ran to it, reaching out to test the knob.

The door burst open, slamming into her forehead. She staggered back. The room spun as she fell to her knees.

A door slammed shut. When her vision cleared, she looked up…

…into the face of pure evil.

Chapter Twenty-Eight