"Should I call her family?"
Nonny's thin body was trembling. Flame put her arm around the woman and led her out of the kitchen to the more comfortable couch in the sitting room, mouthing the word tea over her shoulder to Gator. "No, I don't think that would be a very good idea. No one can know what we suspect until she's safe." She helped her to sit down and Gator put a cup of tea in front of her. "We'll do this. I promise you, we'll do this." Flame pushed the tea into her hands. "Will you be okay until we get back?"
"I'm fine, cher. Just a little shaken up to think this could happen here." She patted Flame's arm. "Don' worry about me. You just make sure Joy is safe."
Flame stood up, feeling tears burning behind her eyes and clogging her throat. Joy would never be the same again. She would be forever isolated, eventually smiling and talking and walking around with her friends and family, but deep inside, deep where it counted, she would be forever cold and scared and filled with rage.
She looked at Raoul because she couldn't stop herself. She knew he would see the shadows and the demons and she would feel even more vulnerable for turning to him for comfort, but she couldn't help it. Why did it always seem as if evil prevailed? Life wasn't anything like the fairy tales and just once, she'd like a damned happy ending.
Gator's heart nearly stopped when he saw Flame's expression. He pressed his hand to his chest to make certain it was still beating. She could knock his legs right out from under him when she looked so sad, so openly fragile. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her close to him, where nothing could ever hurt her. Flame was a woman who kept one hand on her knife and would scoff at his notion that he had to protect her, but that didn't stop his need to do so.
He flung his arm casually around her neck, drawing her to him, pretending not to see the tears so close, pretending her body didn't tremble against his. She'd kill him if she cried in front of the others, so he was walking a fine line, using his body to shelter her while taking care that he didn't trigger a flood of tears. "Let's go to work," he said gruffly. "I know where the Comeaux trapper cabin is located."
Flame walked close to him, allowing the brush of his hard body against her to give her control and focus. She'd never relied on anyone but herself and it was a strange feeling to allow herself to be comforted by a man. A GhostWalker. She tasted the word as she slid into the four-wheel-drive Jeep. Were they all ghosts, just as she was? She glanced around her at the other men. They all looked hard. Battle-scarred. And they all had shadows in their eyes. It didn't matter that Tucker Addison ate Nonny's food with gusto and was polite and gentle when he spoke to the older woman. Flame could see those same shadows, the light never quite reaching his eyes. Sharing something in common with them made her feel a little closer to them all.
The men murmured in low tones, developing a plan for making their way to the Comeaux trapper cabin. They would get as close as possible using the Jeep, take a pirogue the second part of the way and then go through the water. Wyatt would stand by with the airboat and when they signaled to him, he'd bring it in to remove Joy quickly.
None of the men protested when Gator said Flame would enter the cabin alone to check if Joy was there. She only half listened to them, knowing they were a team. She was odd man out. They had trained together and worked like a machine, each knowing what the other would do. Kadan was a shielder and he would make certain no one would hear or see them coming. Gator and Flame could silence any noise, adding extra protection.
The pirogue was flat-bottomed and made of cypress. Gator pushed the canoe through a sea of purple water hyacinths. Great egrets fed, walking through the water on stiltlike legs. A few fluttered their wings as the pirogue moved through them, but they didn't appear too disturbed. The boat passed groves of cypress draped in Spanish moss, tupelo gums and dramatic maples all turning shades of red or russet. It seemed a lost world with the tangle of brilliantly colored flowers on the swamp floor and the prairie grasses swaying gently with the slow flow of water. Flame had never been this far into the bayou and was astonished at the beauty of it all. It seemed obscene to her that somewhere a woman was held captive, drugged and tortured in the midst of so much splendor.
The skies darkened as another storm front moved over them. Gray clouds swept the blue from overhead and a fine drizzle began, turning the horizon into a silvery haze. Gator pushed the boat through the thick fields of fourchettes, using sheer strength to get through the marigold marsh. Flame silenced the alarms of the birds as the pirogue moved inland to shore.
The men all stepped out of the boat and held the sides, politely waiting for her. Flame took a slow, careful look around, trying to see if there were any telltale bubbles or even the rigid eyeplates of an alligator marring the surface of the water. In the thick field of fourchettes, it was virtually impossible to tell. She hesitated only a second before stepping out of the boat into the knee-high water. Her heart pounded and she had to work at controlling her breathing. Gator glanced at her, obviously able to hear and, to her shame, Kadan did as well.
Automatic rifles were slung over the men's shoulders and Kadan held out a small revolver. "Would you like a gun? We should have asked. I'm armed to the teeth."
Flame shook her head. "I'm better with a knife."
Kadan nodded and gestured her to follow Gator, who led the way. The others fell in line, walking single file in the water, sometimes up to their waists as they wound around the shore of the islet. The marsh was thick with flowers, nettles, and stumps and it was slow going as they made the approach toward the Comeaux hunting camp.
Gator held up his hand and the line stopped. He gestured toward land and Ian immediately broke off from the group and waded through the thicker foliage to solid ground. Within minutes, Tucker and Kadan had taken to shore so they could approach the cabin from every direction, spreading out like a giant net to encompass the large area around the hunting camp.
Gator and Flame continued creeping through the water until she could see the rickety planks of wood that served as a deck and walkway to the cabin. Two cypress trees rose up through the deck and several cans of gasoline sat in front of one of them, just a few feet from a generator. A single plank led past the trees to the cabin. A crab pot lay tilted on its side near the trees and an airboat was tied to a pole between the deck and the cabin.
"Vicq Comeaux," Raoul said, keeping his voice only to her. "It started to rain so he decided to forget fishing."
"He's not alone with her," Flame said, her stomach beginning to knot up. She could hear inside the cabin now. The low cries of a female voice, the slap of something against flesh. The pleading and sobbing that followed. She quickened her pace. "I can hear other voices."
"Don' go getting yourself killed, cher. We want them all together. It will be easier that way." He caught her arm. "Someone's coming out."
The door to the cabin opened and Vicq Comeaux shoved James Parsons out. James teetered and nearly fell. "Get the hell out of here before you end up gator bait," Vicq yelled.
"You wouldn't even have her if it wasn't for me," James snapped.
Gator signaled Flame forward, out of the water and she went in low, allowing the water, even the shallows, to creep up to her neck so she slithered out on her belly. She began to crab crawl up the slope toward the side of the cabin using a slow, steady movement designed not to draw the eye or move the foliage around her too much.
She heard the call of a bird. A second one answered. A bullfrog croaked. The men were in place. It was up to her to get inside and protect Joy.
"You sniveling piece of city boy shit. You wouldn't have the balls to grab a woman. Carl took her, just like he took the last one. The only reason you were let in on it was to get your pappy offa Saunders's back. That's the only thing you're good for and we already got the tapes, so as far as I'm concerned if you turn up dead, nobody's gonna care one way or the other." Vicq took a step toward him and James backpedaled, misstepped and tumbled into the shallow water.
Gator immediatel
y sank beneath the surface of the water and headed toward James. Vicq burst out laughing, slapping his knee as he watched James trying to regain his footing in the soft muck on the bottom.
Flame crept up to the window. The cracked glass was coated with years of grime, making it nearly impossible to see into the room. An old piece of burlap hung inside, at one time intended perhaps to block the light, but it was ragged with age and torn almost in half. Moving around to the back of the cabin she discovered a much smaller window. One flimsy strip of board slashed across the open space at the back. There was no glass. It wasn't going to be easy with a broken arm, but she would endure anything to make it into that cabin and protect Joy.
Looking inside, Flame could see a bed directly under the window. Joy was standing, both hands tied above her head to a hook hanging from the ceiling. Her body was covered in bruises and welts.
"Don't look up, Joy." Flame sent her voice directly to the woman. "I'm a friend of Nonny Fontenot. She sent me here to get you out." She wiggled the board free, and tossed it behind her before jumping up to catch the windowsill with her good arm.
Joy frantically nodded her head toward the door several times, obviously fearful that Vicq and James would return.
Flame was grateful for her physical enhancements, which enabled her to pull herself up so she could wiggle through the small opening. She had to go in headfirst, but she landed on the bed and somersaulted onto the floor in a crouch, knife already drawn. A jolt of pain ran through her arm and crashed through her body. Breathing deep to ride it out, she took a quick sweep of the cabin, noting there was only the one door.
A butcher knife lay on the counter alongside several stacks of dirty dishes. Flame stepped over a long thick staff and reached up to cut through the leather ties binding Joy's hands to the hook.
Joy crumpled to the floor, her legs unable to support her. Flame reached down to her, grasping her shoulders when the cabin shook slightly, and she knew immediately Raoul was warning her.
Vicq Comeaux stepped inside and quietly closed the door, a huge grin spreading over his face. "Nothing I like better than to see two women on their knees in front of me. Go ahead and touch the bitch, everyone else does."
Flame's eyes widened. She started to stutter an apology, standing, backpedaling--drawing him to her. Vicq stalked her across the small room, toeing Joy out of his way to get to Flame. Flame went for the helpless look, cradling her broken arm, making herself look even smaller until Vicq reached out with one meaty hand, grabbed her breast, and yanked hard to bring her to him. She went, using his tremendous strength along with her own, burying the largest knife she owned as deep into his gut as she could get it and jumped back out of his reach.
Vicq roared with pain, both hands going to the hilt as he stared at her. "What have you done?"
"That one was for Joy. This one's for putting your filthy hands on me you son of a bitch." Flame pulled the second, smaller throwing knife from inside the cast on her arm, watching his eyes widen with the certain knowledge that she wasn't small and helpless. That she wasn't tied up. That he couldn't stop the inevitable. Even as he staggered toward her, she threw the knife with deadly accuracy, burying it in his throat.
Vicq went down hard, shaking the cabin as Joy tried to struggle to her feet. She began to sob quietly. "There are more of them. How are we going to get out of here?"
CHAPTER 17
Gator used the debris along the bottom to pull his body through the shallow water yet keep him submerged at the same time. He heard Vicq and James shouting at each other. Water churned around him as James lost his footing and fell, his butt landing inches from Gator's hand. Gator swept his knife free of his belt as the man scrambled to his feet, rushing out of the shallows up the slope toward the cabin.
Gator found the roots of the cypress trees growing through the deck and came up for air, keeping his gaze focused on the two men. James struggled up the slope, his hands curled into tight fists, his face flaming red, but he stopped just out of Vicq's reach.
"Go play with yourself," Vicq said. "If you come back inside I'm going to play with you. We'll see how you like being my bitch." He turned his back on Parsons, clearly unafraid of him.
Gator immediately bounced a sound wave through the cabin walls to warn Flame the man was returning. There was no call for help from inside so he kept his focus on James. The man was muttering to himself angrily as he stomped across the plank to the deck. Gator heard him dragging something. Before he could move into place to grab the man, he heard the sound of a boat coming toward them fast. He sank back into the water to assess the new threat.
"What the hell are you doing?" The shout came from the motorboat as Carl Raines swept into view.
James ignored the question, lodging a heavy piece of timber against the cabin door and picking up one of the cans of gasoline. He doused the walls of the cabin as quickly as possible, soaking the dry timber with gas.
"Are you crazy?" Carl tied up the boat and leapt into the shallow water to race up the slope.
James didn't even turn around, picking up the second can and methodically covering the side wall, walking around the building until he was out of sight.
Carl stumbled, sliding in the mud a bit, turning slightly in his effort to recover and found himself staring eye-to-eye with the man lying half in and half out of the water. Gator's face was streaked with mud and he blended into the shadows of the deck and roots, but Carl was nearly on top of him. As Raines pulled his gun, Gator shot him twice. The first bullet went between the eyes; the second went through his crotch. All around the hunting cabin, birds rose into the air, flapping wings and shrieking loudly.
Gator came up out of the water, his rifle to his shoulder as he emerged. James couldn't have failed to hear the shots or the alarm of the birds and neither would Vicq, if he were still alive. Gator kept his mind firmly from dwelling on that possibility. His job was to clear the outside of any threat. Flame would do her job, which was to protect Joy. He ran up the slope to circle the cabin.
The smell of the gasoline combined with the whoosh of the fire as it ignited was overpowering. Anyone have a bead on that bastard? I have to get Flame and Joy out of the cabin. He sent the call immediately even as he raced around the side of the building to get to the front.
You're covered. The sound of a rifle shot reverberated through the swamp and set the birds off a second time. Gator removed the large plank propped against the door just as the fire raced over the cabin, quickly engulfing it, the intense heat driving him back. He tossed the plank and then his rifle and ammunition aside. His clothing and hair were already soaked from lying in the water so he didn't waste time, kicking hard at the front door with his boot, so that it sagged on the rusty hinges. A second kick took it all the way out, but flames licked along the floor from the wood splintering. Black smoke rolled into the cabin in waves.
Gator leapt through the ring of fire to Flame's side. She'd already rolled Joy in a wet sheet and awkwardly hefted the woman onto her back in a fireman's carry--difficult to do with one arm, even enhanced. The other woman appeared to be too weak, or too drugged, to stand on her own. She sobbed uncontrollably but clung tightly to Flame, even when Gator tried to remove her.
"Joy! You know me. Let me take you so we can get out of here." His eyes met Flame's as he hoisted Joy to his own shoulders. She looked frightened, but calm. Both looked at the doorway. The flames were hot and greedy, pieces of wood falling off. "You ready?"
She nodded.
"You stay right behind me." Without hesitation, Gator rushed the ring of fire, leaping over the flames on the floor and through to the outside. The wind generated by his body made the flames flare as he leapt over them.
Flame followed him through. She jumped, drawing her knees up to her chest, uncaring of the landing so much as not getting burned. She landed in a crouch and somersaulted down the slope nearly into the water, landing facedown in the mud. She lay there, listening to the crackle of the fire, the lapping of the wate
r, and her own heartbeat. Mostly, she felt the pain crashing through her broken arm, sending shock waves through her body.
Gator's hands were gentle as he helped her up. He wiped mud from her face. "You're always such a mess."
"I don't like you very much." She pushed his hand away and sat on the slope waiting for her strength to return.
"You're crazy about me."
She scrubbed her hand over her face. "I'm just crazy."
"I know, but that's what I find so attractive." He leaned in close and brushed his mouth gently against hers. "Joy's in bad shape. Wyatt's bringing the airboat, but she's in shock. She won't talk or look at me and she can't stop shaking. I know you're hurt." He touched her arm gently and brushed his fingers against hers.
"It's not that bad. I'll stay with her while you all do whatever it is you do to secure the place." She allowed Raoul to help her up, mostly because she was suddenly so exhausted she wanted to crawl into a bed and sleep for hours. She even leaned on him as he walked her to a small clearing away from the burning cabin. She recognized it from the photographs that Joy had taken.
She sat down beside the woman and put a steadying hand on her shoulder, mouthing to Gator to go away. "They can't hurt you anymore, Joy," she said. "Everyone's been looking for you. No one gave up hope."
There was a small silence while the wind fanned the flames. Overhead the gray clouds began to drizzle rain on them again. "I did," Joy said. "I gave up hope."
"Wyatt Fontenot sent for his brother to come find you. Raoul took a personal leave from the military and has spent weeks tracking you down."
"What am I going to do?" Joy shuddered visibly. "How can I ever rebuild my life? I'll never be the same."
"No, but you'll be stronger. You're a survivor. You think you gave up, but you were right there, trying to fight Vicq Comeaux right along with me." Deliberately she used his name. "I saw you try to grab his ankle when he came at me. That's a fighter, Joy. They had to keep you drugged because they couldn't break you. Whatever you did in that room with those men, you did to survive. That's all. You came out of it alive."