Page 72 of Israel

Harrison just looked at him and shook his head.

Yeah. Like he probably wasn’t going to do that anyway. But they had to buy some time. This wasn’t some garden-variety serial killer here. He believed he had a relationship with Ashley, and as long as that fantasy was alive, he wouldn’t kill her. He just hoped that wherever she was, she was playing along.

“We need some kind of backup,” Harrison was arguing. “We don’t even know who this guy is, or where to start looking.”

“I know,” Israel said. “That’s why I’m calling in the troops.” He took out his phone and started dialing Silverlake.

Within minutes, they had the Silverlake team together in their command cabin, on conference call. Israel had explained the situation and his theory that the perp had impersonated a new hire who had already passed the background checks. He could hear keyboards clacking in the background as Jesse worked his computer magic.

“We can be there by morning,” Kane was saying. “All we need is a chopper.”

“There isn’t time,” Israel said, anxiety clawing at his stomach. “You know that. This guy is playing his own sick game here. If it’s escalated to kidnapping, then he’s in the endgame. And when she rejects him, it’s not going to be pretty.” His voice dropped. “He could be torturing her right now.”

He knew she was a dragon and could take a lot of punishment. Probably. But the binding made her human, for all intents and purposes. This fucker might be able to do enough damage to kill her.

And even if she survived, the thought of Ashley being tortured at the hands of that insane sonofabitch made him crazy. That motherfucker should never have been able to lay hands on her.

This was on him.

“Okay.” Jesse was back on again. “I got it. Original DMV photos for every male member of the road crew. Sending them to you now.”

The photos began coming up on Harrison’s computer screen. Harrison dismissed them one by one as they matched with current road crew members. Then a picture flashed up of a clean-cut blond guy with a cleft chin. “Hold on,” Harrison said. “Who the fuck is that?”

He clicked on the picture. Avery Rodham.

Avery. The bus driver.

“Shit,” Israel said. “Jesse, do a search for an Avery Rodham from Topeka, Kansas,” he said. “And see if you can figure out who the fuck this is.” Harrison pulled up his file on Avery and sent over the ID picture they had.

Avery. Fucking Avery, or whatever the hell his name was. He’d been driving the damn bus every night, only twenty feet from where Ashley was sleeping. And in his spare time he’d been lurking around, sending lilac letters and destroying her possessions and scaring the shit out of her.

And now he’d taken her away, because Israel had failed to protect her.

He started growling, pacing back and forth in the hotel room.

“Hey, tone it down,” Harrison said. “You losing it isn’t going to help Ashley. And the last thing I need in here is a fucked-up wolf thrashing around.”

Israel closed his eyes and talked to his wolf. Not yet, he said. Save it for when we find Ashley. Then we’ll fucking tear this asshole apart. And if he’s hurt her, we’ll tear him apart slower.

Slowly, his wolf receded until he could think. “I’m wondering if he picked this locale purposely,” he said. “We were assuming this was an emotional reaction to seeing Ashley and me together, but what if it wasn’t? What if the thing I ruined was not just his fantasy, but his special night?”

He said to Jesse, “Can you check locally for this guy? High school photos, DMV records, employment records? And Harrison, can you check your files for any applicants who applied to join the road crew from this area who were rejected? Maybe he applied under his own name first, and when that didn’t work, he replaced this poor sucker.”

There was immediate silence on both ends of the conference call, except for the clatter of keys. Israel started pacing again; he couldn’t help himself. Everything in him wanted to do something—not just sit here and gather information.

The thought of Avery touching Ashley’s perfect creamy skin made him want to tear furniture away from the wall and crush it.

Hold on, Ash, he said to himself. I’m coming.

Harrison was the first one to come up with something. “Okay, we got two rejects from this area. Thomas Johnson and Greg Malone.”

“Got that,” Jesse said. “Facial rec isn’t coming up with anything yet, so I’ll start running down these names.”

There was another wait filled with the rattling of keyboards. Israel let his claws come out and dug them into his own palms, the pain distracting him from his desperate impatience. He waited while the cuts healed up, then dug his claws in again. Harrison gave a sidelong glance at the blood dripping on the carpet, but he didn’t say anything.

Israel would pay for new fucking carpet when Ashley was safe. And if she was dead, he wouldn’t care about carpeting or anything else.

He’d probably turn wolf and run howling into the wilderness and never come back.