Scarlet Nights (Edilean 3)

“Your …?”

She saw anger flash across his face and knew she’d made a mistake. He hated it when she used words he didn’t know—and that look reminded her how she’d lived with his constantly changing moods. One second he’d be fine and the next he’d be in a rage—and it was always Sara’s fault. All his bad moods—never the good ones—were, according to Greg, caused by Sara.

She pretended she hadn’t seen his anger. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said and made herself kiss his neck. “Did you miss me?” When you were with your wife? Or in jail? she wanted to ask.

“Sara, I don’t have time for this right now.” He pulled her arms from around his neck and stepped away, but she saw the flicker in his eyes. She had no idea if he knew about her marriage to Mike or not, but one thing was clear: He wanted sex. And she needed time. “There’s an old summerhouse near here,” she said softly. “Just behind those hedges.”

“I …”

She began to back away from him. “Bet you can’t catch me,” she said in as enticing a manner as she could manage, then she took off running toward the summerhouse. But she’d seen the anger flit across Greg’s eyes, and she knew that it wouldn’t be long before he released his rage. As she ran, the image in her mind was of seeing Mr. Lang put the wire across the doorway of the old summerhouse and attaching the arrows just inside the entrance.

At the time, she’d visualized what would have happened if Mike or she had stepped into the pretty little building after the trap had been set. But Sara couldn’t think of that as she ran across lawns, then around the tall hedge that protected the structure’s privacy.

She headed straight into the building, jumping as she went through the doorway. At the other side she stood there with her back against the wall, and she could see Mr. Lang’s four arrows affixed just inside the entrance. There was no way out.

Greg stopped outside the door. “Sara!” he ordered. “Come out here this minute.”

“I’d rather you came to me,” she whispered even though her heart

was pounding in her ears.

When she disobeyed him, his wrath was released. “You little bitch!” he said as he lunged for her.

Everything happened at once. Greg drew his gun and took a step toward her—and she heard the click of the wire.

Greg saw her expression and knew something had happened. “Damn Lang and his traps!” he yelled as he pointed his gun at her. Instinctively, Sara dropped to the floor, her hands over her head.

Just as the gun went off, the arrows were released.

Stefan Vandlo, aka Greg Anders, aka several other names, was shot by four steel-tipped arrows—and he was silenced forever.

Sara was so horrified at what happened—at what she had caused—that she only managed to stand upright. Greg’s blood was splattered on her face and clothes. To get out, she would have had to move Greg’s body from where it was pinioned across the doorway, and she couldn’t do that. She stayed where she was, her back against the summerhouse wall.

It took Mike quite a while to untangle himself from the agents who came to the call he made after they’d heard the shots. Within about four minutes the old farm was flooded with vehicles and men and they all had information to impart.

While they easily found Mitzi, Stefan eluded them. Emergency vehicles, including a helicopter, and many people were everywhere. The hunt for Stefan Vandlo was intense.

But Mike’s only concern was Sara. He’d had to push his way through the crowd to get to Ariel. When she told him she and Sara had come together, he nearly panicked. He’d thought she was safe back at the fair.

Frantic, Mike began running. There was one place on Merlin’s Farm that searchers could walk past and not see.

When Mike finally found Sara, she was at the back of the old summerhouse and Stefan Vandlo’s lifeless body was strung across the doorway. Mr. Lang’s arrows had pierced his body in four places, one of them being his heart.

Mike had no qualms as he pulled out the arrows and dropped the body to the ground. He went to Sara, took her into his arms, and held her tightly. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.” He held her head on his shoulder so she couldn’t see Stefan’s body as EMTs carried it away. When it was clear, he led her outside, picked her up in his arms, and carried her back to the house. A fire truck and an ambulance were in the drive, a helicopter on the lawn.

Someone draped a blanket over Sara as Mike held her, and she saw Ariel leaning against the back of the fire truck. She had a fireman’s coat over her shoulders, but her long, lean legs were bare, and at least a dozen men surrounded her. She gave a little salute to Sara as Mike carried her away.

He took her into the kitchen of the house and set her on the worn-out Formica countertop. After opening a couple of drawers, he found a stack of clean dish towels and wet one as he began to wipe at Sara’s face. The cloths came away bloody. Greg’s blood.

She touched the bruise by Mike’s right eye, and there was a cut under the other one. He’d washed away most of the blood on his face, but she still remembered seeing it. Suddenly, she remembered how they got there. “Mitzi! We brought her here in your car but we heard gunshots! I think she—”

Mike kissed her gently. “It’s all right. Mitzi got out, but she tripped on one of Lang’s traps. We found her hanging from a tree in a net.”

“She okay?” asked a voice at the door.

Sara turned to see the man Mike had been fighting with, the one who’d bloodied his face—the man who was working for Greg. “You did this to him,” she half shouted. “I saw you hit him!” Her fists were clenched as though she meant to attack him.

“You’re not her favorite person right now,” Mike said. “Sara, my warrior princess, meet Frank Thiessen. I told you about him, and he’s my oldest friend.”