Dangerous Attraction: Part One (Aegis Group) (9 page)

Bliss gathered her scattered thoughts and collected herself. This was crazy and stupid. She wasn’t the person for this job, but she was all there was. Unless she wanted to call the cops and wait for them to get there. Travis and Wendy might die before then.

She crept around the front of the house and craned her neck to try to get a look inside the house, but it was dark. And shiny.

Trash bags.

There were trash bags on the inside of the windows.

How very Dexter.

She ducked and hustled to the front door. She crouched next to it and listened to the music. After this, she’d never be able to hear country and western music without cringing.

Bliss grasped the doorknob and pushed the unlocked door inward. It swung open on squeaky hinges, casting light into an otherwise dark interior. She waited for a second or two, but no one rushed out at her with an axe and there was no screaming.

She straightened and leaned inside.

To the right, the wood paneling dated the house at forty years old. Built-in wooden shelving cut off her view of the living room. Straight ahead she could make out what looked to be the kitchen. She brushed the wall, feeling for a light switch.

A single bulb flickered on in the entry, doing little more than the fading sunlight.

Something wasn’t right.

If this guy had Travis, wouldn’t Travis have put up a fight? Wouldn’t there be yelling, or at least someone talking?

She stepped over the threshold. Another set of light switches was farther to her right, almost inside the living room. She tiptoed toward them, cringing when a floor board squeaked. The ceiling fan spun on a wobbly base and only one light came on when she flipped the switch.

The TV on the far side of the room was the source of the music. Some singer she couldn’t name belted out a tune while sparks went off behind him. Bliss crossed to the older TV and hit the power button.

Silence descended on the house. Or near-silence. Her ears rang, and she wasn’t sure if she could hear herself think yet.

She held completely still, listening for any sign of life.

The hair on the back of her neck rose.

He was right behind her, wasn’t he?

Bliss pivoted, lifting the knife at the same time, but she was alone.

Staring back at her from the built-ins were at least a dozen little faces.

She gasped and stumbled back, hitting the TV with her elbow.

They were babies. Some of them were so small they would have fit in her palm, while others were maybe a couple of months old. The size of Paul. They each floated in their own glass jar, surrounded by murky liquid. Their little features were bloated and distorted until they didn’t look human.

“Oh my God.” She covered her mouth. Her throat constricted, and her stomach began to revolt.

Travis had said there were others. Was this what he hadn’t told her? That the women were broodmares for...whatever this was?

An engine rumbled up to the back of the house. Bliss ducked out of the living room and stared through the little window on the rear door. A man sat on an ATV next to the Buick.

Where had he taken them?

Bliss wasn’t about to let him get away with this.

“W
endy... Wendy, Bliss needs you to calm down.” Travis gripped the frail woman’s wrists to keep her from scratching his eyes out. The coppery scent of blood was thick in the air. Enough to make even him gag.

Someone had died here not long ago, and it wasn’t the vic reported yesterday. That meant Daniel Campbell had other victims. Ones Travis and the FBI didn’t know about.

“Wendy, damn it.”

He’d been party to some tricky rescues before and, while it wasn’t common, occasionally the victims didn’t want to be saved. Which was too bad, because Travis had a job to do, and he wasn’t about to leave a new mother to die in a filthy cave.

“No!” she wailed.

Wendy twisted one of her arms free. He groped, catching her shoulder.

“Stop it. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

She swung her arm and hit him in the temple. His body jolted, and for an instant he was stunned. Had she really just done that? Damn woman was a lot like her sister. Wendy jerked free and scrambled to her feet. He reached out to grab her, but she evaded him, ducking through an open gate. She pulled it shut with a clang.

Travis sat back on his heels and rubbed his head. It wouldn’t do to move quickly or grab her. At this rate, she’d only hurt herself.

“Wendy, I’m here to take you back to your family. Grayson is worried about you. Bliss is out in my truck waiting for me to bring you back.”

“No, no, I won’t let you.” She leaned back, as if her slight weight mattered. Her chest heaved. By his guess, she was so panicked he’d be surprised if she didn’t make herself black out.

“Won’t let me what, Wendy?” Travis could grab her and haul her out, but what damage would it do to her? He wasn’t the gentlest of rescuers, and Bliss had made it clear Wendy’s mental state wasn’t quite on an even keel. But the longer he waited for her to come around, the more time he gave Daniel Campbell to catch him in the act.

“You can’t take me. You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.” She sagged against the bars, sobbing.

Chances were, Wendy was too scared and traumatized to be able to recognize the good guys. The trick was going to be minimizing the damage she did to herself. The best way to do that was with a mild sedative.

He slid his wallet out of his pocket, keeping one eye on Wendy as he slid the two-inch long injector out of the wallet. It was a standard Aegis tool. All the guys carried one. They never knew when they’d end up tossed onto a job like this one.

“Your sister is worried about you, Wendy.” He let the wallet drop to the ground and took a step closer to the gate.

“He can’t hurt her. I won’t let him.” Her voice was muffled. Her head was buried against her arm.

He reached through the bars and stuck the business end into her bicep. It was spring loaded, so once the seal on the end was broken, it pushed the sedative into the target, requiring no further contact from him.

“Wha-what did you do?” Wendy’s head snapped up, and she stumbled backward, holding her arm. The injector fell to the ground, lost in the deep shadows.

“Nothing.” He held his hands up.

Five...

She swiped her arm and looked down.

Four...

Her knees buckled, and she sat down hard.

Three...

Christ. She was going to cry.

Two...

He opened the gate, and she held out her arm as if to fend him off.

One.

She was out.

Travis scooped Wendy up. She weighed less than his go-bag. He used his shoulder to push through the cell door and the wooden exterior one. Squeezing past the stones was trickier. He had to turn sideways and flatten Wendy’s body to his. There wasn’t a way around it. The rocks scraped at him, catching on his clothes and scratching Wendy’s skin.

The path between the rocks widened and Travis was able to stretch his legs. Sounds were misleading between the rocks. He’d heard something earlier, but couldn’t make it out now. He took care to watch his footing, but couldn’t shake the sense of urgency. He’d been gone longer than he intended to. Any minute, Mason and Ethan were going to show up, and what he really needed was a clean get-away.

He emerged from the rocks, and the path sloped down into the shrub and foothills. It was too quiet. Whatever had buzzed in the distance, it had to have gone somewhere. He peered out over the shrub and brush before descending into the thick of the ground cover.

In the distance he could see the house.

And a man getting off an ATV.

From Travis’ vantage point, he was high enough to catch a glimpse of a dark-colored SUV in front of the house.

His rental.

What the hell was Bliss doing?

Was she in the house?

“God damn it,” Travis muttered.

He slid down the incline a bit before hitting the more level path. He should have known better than to leave Bliss on her own. She wasn’t the kind of girl to take inaction well. At the very least, he should have left her with something to protect herself with. Granted, that would have been asking for trouble.

Travis jogged, trying his best to not jostle Wendy much. His boots crunched on the gravel and dirt. Branches snagged their clothing and hair.

Any minute, Daniel Campbell would go check on the SUV or find Bliss. What then?

Travis’ job was Wendy, but Bliss was equally important. He wasn’t about to let either woman get hurt, regardless of what the job was.

If his boss could hear that thought, Travis would get the boot. Aegis rules were law, and they did what they were paid to do.

He reached the edge of the property in a matter of minutes, but it was already too late. Daniel wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Travis skirted the house, going around the right side and then cutting across the front to his truck. The keys were in the ignition, and the doors were unlocked. He circled to the other side and placed Wendy in the back seat, sparing a moment to bind her wrists with flexible restraints and handcuff her to the bench seat. As against being rescued as she’d been, he wasn’t about to have her run away.

Bang!

His body went rigid at the report of a gun. Some sort of shotgun. From inside the house.

Bliss.

Travis pushed backward out of the truck and stared at the house through the windshield.

Not Bliss.

Something inside him broke, and he barely contained the urge to scream. She couldn’t be dead. He was right here.

A small figure lurched out of the front door, dark hair obscuring her face, but he knew that figure.

Bliss.

He sprinted toward her and met her almost halfway to the house.

“Are you hurt?” His gun was in his hand. He didn’t even remember drawing it.

“Run.” She pushed him.

A man filled the doorway, a twelve-gauge shotgun in his hand.

Travis fired first, aiming wildly as he pushed Bliss ahead of her, shielding her with his body.

“In the truck,” Travis yelled.

He fired again, but the man he assumed was Daniel Campbell was out of sight.

Bliss skidded around the front of the SUV while he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“Are you hurt?” he yelled.

Job or no, if Bliss was shot, he’d go in there, rip that shotgun out of Daniel’s hands and shoot him full of buckshot.

“No, no. Where’s Wendy? Oh my God, Wendy!”

Travis shifted into gear and whipped the SUV around, spraying gravel in his wake. The job wasn’t over until the girls were out of danger.

Bliss crawled into the backseat of the truck. It bounced down the gravel road, knocking her off-balance. Wendy was always petite, but her hollowed out cheeks were gaunt and her skin was ashen.

“What—why is she handcuffed?” Bliss crouched in the floorboard and pushed Wendy’s hair off her brow.

“She was traumatized,” Travis said over his shoulder. “Didn’t know I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“You—what? Knocked her out and handcuffed her?” Was that seriously how he handled hostages?

“Yes.”

She glanced at the back of Travis’ head. He was serious. For a moment, she was torn between outrage and relief. She couldn’t find it in her to be angry with him either way. He’d found Wendy, when the cops wouldn’t even pretend to look. Her baby sister was coming home. Alive.

Bliss knelt and pressed a kiss to Wendy’s forehead. She held her sister’s hands, rubbing some warmth back into them despite being jostled and tossed around. Travis seemed determined to push the vehicle to unholy speeds. Granted, she wanted as far away from that creep and his army of babies as possible. She still didn’t even know what to think about that.

She peered out through the rear windows, but couldn’t see a vehicle following them. In the movies, the kidnapper gave chase, and there was a big, dramatic end. This almost felt anticlimactic. They had Wendy, everyone was safe. That was a good thing, right?

Then why did Bliss still have a gnawing sense of dread, as if this wasn’t the end of it all?

Images of the house, those jar babies, and Daniel Campbell zipped through her mind. She was going to need to shower after this, but nothing would clean those memories out of her head.

“Why didn’t you stay where I told you to?” It was the first thing Travis had said since they got on the road.

She glanced out the window and saw the highway ahead. One step closer to civilization, the cops, and a hospital.

“I got worried,” she said.

“You broke our agreement.”

“Yeah, well, sorry.” If she’d stayed put she wouldn’t have the visions of dead babies in her head. Then again, she wouldn’t have been there with the truck when Travis needed a place to stash Wendy.

Travis had saved her from the same fate as the women before her. Again, Bliss couldn’t be angry with him.

“What happened in there? Who shot what?” he asked.

“The women, he forced them to have babies, didn’t he? That’s what you wouldn’t tell me.” Bliss sat back and stared at his profile. She could see bumps in his nose, no doubt from multiple breaks. The hard lines of his face were just like him; he either got the job done, or he didn’t.

“How do you know that?” he asked finally, his voice quieter.

“Because I saw the babies.”

“The children? They’re back there?” The SUV slowed, and he glanced at her.

“They’re dead. He has them lined up in jars. He watches TV with them or something.”

“What?”

“There were over a dozen babies in jars. Most of them were probably newborns.”

“They were in jars?”

“Yes!”

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean, what did I do?”

“What happened inside the house?”

“I went in, saw the babies, freaked out, and then that guy, Daniel, came inside. I tried to get out, but he grabbed me. I kicked him in the nuts, and he tried to shoot me. I ran outside and there you were.”

“Don’t ever do that again.”

“I don’t want to.”

Wendy groaned and her hand curled around Bliss’.

“Wendy? Wendy, hey, it’s Bliss.” She bent her head.