Almost where? I wonder.
“We’re lucky we had practice fucking with those cameras. Couldn’t just work the batteries out like we did before, but I’m hoping that other trick did the job.”
I force myself not to open my eyes. They can’t know I’m awake.
I shift subtly, rolling against my pocket, and find out fast I’m missing my phone.
Lovely.
Of course they’ve taken it.
What now?
Quinn probably doesn’t even know I’m gone.
And Owl—what happened to him? Did they hurt him? Did they—
Oh, God.
My entire body jerks from the roughness of the road and the fear chewing through me. I bite back an anguished moan.
From what I can tell, I’m in the cramped back seat of a pickup truck, with my hands tied behind my back.
“Is she awake?” one of the thugs asks. “Like fully conscious?”
A hand grips my upper arm and shakes me.
I force myself not to react.
“Hm, don’t think so, still feels like a rag doll. She must’ve just been whining in her sleep. Nightmares or somethin’. Go figure.”
The unwelcome hand releases my arm, and I let the air I’m holding in slowly seep out of my lungs.
“Damn weird how the dog disappeared, wasn’t it?” Thing One asks his fellow minion. “I expected it to attack us, or at least bark like hell and wake up Faulkner.”
“I know. I didn’t expect her to come outside tonight, either. Figured we’d be sitting behind that barn half the night figuring out a diversion, a fire or something to flush them out.”
The other guy laughs. “Lucky us. This sure worked better than trying to steal one of those stupid goats for bait. Now we just round up Faulkner and call it a day. Coast should be clear for Bat’s guy to plant whatever the fuck he needs to there. Word is he’s a dirty cop.”
“Yeah. Never, ever fuck with that type,” his buddy says.
Well, now I know why poor Hellboy was tangled up in rope.
Rage courses through my veins.
“I told Pickett we’d find a better way to get her.”
They continue talking about Pickett, money, and dick-size compensating sports cars I’m sure they’re planning to buy with their ill-gotten gains.
My mind is stuck on Owl.
He wouldn’t desert me when I need him the most.
That means one thing: something awful happened to him, and it’s my fault.
If only we hadn’t gotten into that stupid effing fight, I would’ve went to bed with Quinn, and they would’ve never breached the property. He’d have known it right away with the cameras and his own good sense the nanosecond these savages started messing around. Especially if they had to light a fire to get his attention.
The truck stops a short time later, jerking to a halt and interrupting my self-pity.
I stay limp when the back door opens and someone grabs my legs. A heavyset man reaches inside, grabs around roughly, and tosses me over his shoulder like a feed sack.
I’m lifting an eye to see if I can make out where we are when a bearish snarl rips through the night.
My eyes fly open, just in time to see Owl leaping out of the back of the truck.
Holy hell. He’s been hiding the whole time!
The man fumbles and drops me as Owl slams into him headfirst, knocking him down.
I hit the ground hard, rolling out of the way as shouts, growls, and furious barks fill the air.
Between the darkness and the tall grass around me, I can’t see anything.
But I can hear people roaring, running, and then louder noises that stop my heart.
Gunshots.
At first, I flinch, afraid to call out, but I’m more scared for Owl, afraid he’ll get killed.
“Round up! Round up!” I scream into the inky sky.
It’s the only command I know that he’ll listen to no matter what.
I wonder if he even hears me over the chaos, the blackness exploding like a battlefield.
Someone grabs me by the arms and lifts me off the ground.
There’s another shot that echoes, a loud skittering sound, and then nothing but the merciless drumming of my own heart.
Upright again, I stumble around, no thanks to my arms being pinned behind my back.
My wrists are still tied and it hurts—hurts—but I barely keep my balance as they shove me forward.
It’s so dark out here, except for a sliver of moon shining down.
I see trucks, a couple old buildings in the distance. And…is that water?
I hear it a second before I smell it. A damp, musty odor rolls up my nose.
Definitely algae water.
We must be near a good-sized lake, meaning this has to be the abandoned Maddock farm on the other end of Big Fish Lake.
Swallowing my panic, I tell myself it’ll be okay. It has to be.
Quinn will—
No, he won’t. It’s the middle of the night. He’s in bed, probably still pissed at me, or busy talking to whoever called so late.
I have no clue whatsoever if the thugs made enough noise to wake him. And if they were quick to disable the cameras, and smart enough to stay hidden from the others on the barn roof…