Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 534(@250wpm)___ 445(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 534(@250wpm)___ 445(@300wpm)
The voices were too muffled. He was certain she had a concussion. She couldn’t understand what they were saying, so he couldn’t understand. He forced himself to be patient. To be alert when she showed the slightest sign of consciousness.
Red, tell me where you are. Gideon spoke very firmly, making it a command, trying to get past the haze in her mind.
Don’t know. Can’t see.
Impressions.
Echoes. Pipes. Dripping water.
Her breathing was rough. She was gasping. Wheezing.
Baby, slow your breathing. Try to match mine. Deliberately, he drew air into his lungs, sending her the image. In. Out. Trying to get her to follow him.
Something hard smashed into her stomach, driving the air out of her. Out of him. Another blow landed on her left cheek. Then her right one. The blows rained down on her, one after another, until, once again, everything faded away.
Gideon swore, the dark shadows in him spreading until he felt as if he were being consumed. He stood on his rooftop, the sun pouring down, directing his spies to every part of the wharf. The car couldn’t have gone far. He’d been too close. He should have been able to track her even after they’d knocked her out. They’d disappeared too fast. That meant they hadn’t been on the street long enough for his birds to spot them.
The men had taken her somewhere close and concealed her. They were interrogating her. At one point, he’d felt the slice of a knife going into her skin over and over. They were torturing her. Was it Whitney’s men? Was he angry because she hadn’t done the job he’d sent her out to do? It would be like Whitney to keep her from breathing properly.
“Anything?” Javier demanded.
Gideon shook his head. He didn’t speak. He knew he was in the same state he’d been in when he’d gone after Elio Barone’s empire and taken it down. He just needed a direction. A hint of one. The brief, distorted glimpses Rory had given him were all over the place. He had to wait.
The GhostWalkers had swarmed all over the wharf, the parking garages, apartments and anywhere there might be places with pipes and dripping water. He continued to wait—counting the seconds, the minutes, the next hour—until he felt that faint stirring in his mind again.
Pain exploded in his head. His lungs felt raw. Burned. So did his throat. His body ached. He was afraid to move.
Red. Breathe. Take a breath.
Can’t.
She had to.
Where are you? Give me a direction.
It could be him.
Gideon felt his heart stutter. Her breath came in shudders. She was struggling. Really struggling. It doesn’t matter.
It does. A pause.
More struggling against the mask to draw in air. He thought she drew in strands of material, or maybe it was plastic. Now his heart was pounding. Could they have covered her mouth and nose with plastic?
Think it’s him.
Rory, listen to me. It doesn’t matter who it is. I just need a direction. Give that to me.
If she gave him more than a short burst of consciousness, without her brain being so confused and chaotic, he could track her. One tiny clue and he’d find her.
They’re coming back.
The fear in her mind was overshadowed by her determination to keep him safe. To keep Sebastian safe. Whoever was questioning her would get nothing from her. She was willing to die to save Gideon and the little boy.
Rory, I want a direction from you now. He poured command into his voice. Few could resist his compulsion. So far, he’d never known anyone who could.
The problem with being paired with Rory—and he was certain Whitney had paired them—was that usually meant she would be the one person who could resist his voice. In order for them to be compatible, they had to be able to work together as partners.
He heard footsteps. His scalp hurt as someone caught at her hair where she’d been struck. They yanked her head back and started yelling something at her. He couldn’t make out the words. The words were muffled by the covering over her head, roaring in her ears and the terrible wheezing.
“She’s not going to make it.”
He heard that voice much clearer.
“She dies and he’s going to be pissed.”
“This is bullshit. Torturing her isn’t going to get answers. We never should have taken her in the first place. She can’t breathe.”
Gideon heard that very distinctly. The voice belonged to a man. He was in a mask, that much he could tell because there was a slight distortion, but the speaker was close to Rory. Suddenly, someone pulled the covering from her head. She didn’t lift her head or look around.
Red. Open your eyes for me. Just open your eyes. Take a breath.
Was she that far gone that she couldn’t?
Breathe for me. I need you to do this for me. He was pleading. He didn’t give a damn if she heard the pleading in his voice. Rory, I’m asking you to do this for me. Open your eyes and look around you and take a deep breath.