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“Let’s go find out,” Renata said. She turned to Je
Je
In the momentary inattention, Sister Grace fidgeted on the little sofa, digging around in her sweater pocket. Je
“Oh, shit!” Je
“She’s dead. Forget the bitch,” Renata said. “Down here with us, Je
She turned away from the Minion, letting the convulsing body fall to the floor. Together she and the other women raced down the old stone steps that led into the dimly lit, enormous cellar, which looked to be carved out of the craggy rocks of the peninsula itself.
Deeper and deeper they went, the cries for help growing louder.
“We hear you!” Dylan called back to the terrified women. “It’s okay, we’ve found you!”
Je
They stared at their rescuers, some of them mute, some weeping quietly, while others sobbed openly in great, chest-racking heaves.
“Oh, Jesus,” someone whispered, maybe even Je
“Let’s get them out of here,” Renata said, her voice wooden. “Look for a key somewhere that fits this goddamned grate.”
Dylan and Alex began searching the dark space. Je
Trying to warn her.
Je
“Je
The gun blast echoed like ca
“It’s all right,” Je
She shoved the lifeless heap off her and crawled out from beneath him. Something metallic jangled as the Minion rolled onto his back and expelled his last breath.
“I think I found the key,” she said, bending over him to remove the ring of several keys from his pants pocket.
She ran over to the cell and began searching for the one that would fit the padlock on the grate. The Minion’s blood soaked her coat and palms, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was getting the captive Breedmates out of this place.
The lock sprang loose on the second try.
“Oh, thank God,” Dylan gasped. “Come on, everyone. You’re safe now.”
Je
CHAPTER
Thirty-one
The warriors had been only a few miles away from the location when Rio got a frantic cell phone call from Dylan, telling him everything that had happened. Even though they had been clued in, even though they knew that she and Alex and Renata and Je
The sun had just begun to dip below the opposite horizon, casting its last, long shadows across the snow-covered yard of the tall Victorian. And in that yard, filing out of the front door wrapped in blankets, antique quilts, and crocheted afghans, were easily a dozen bedraggled, haggard young women.
Breedmates.
Several were already in the Rover parked in the driveway. Still others were being escorted out of the house by Alex and Dylan.
“Jesus Christ,” Brock whispered, awed by the enormity of what had occurred.
Renata was standing near the Rover, helping some of the former captives into the backseat.
Where the hell was Je
Brock sca
“Hang on,” Niko said, as he pulled in to the driveway, then steered the big SUV right up onto the lawn.
Brock leapt out even before the vehicle had come to a full stop.
He had to see his woman. Had to feel her warm and safe in his arms.
He ran across the frozen yard, his boots chewing up the distance in mere seconds.
Alex looked up at him as he tore toward her.
“Where is she?” he demanded. “Where’s Je
“She’s fine, Brock.” Alex gestured toward the open front door of the house, where the bloodied corpse of at least one Minion lay visible and motionless inside. “Je
He sagged at the news that she was okay, unable to hide his relief. “I have to see her.”
Alex gave him a warm smile as she led one of the shivering, wan Breedmates toward the pair of waiting vehicles. He stepped forward and was about to vault up onto the veranda porch.
“Brock?”
The small, feminine voice—so unexpected, so distantly familiar—stopped him dead in his tracks. Something clicked in his brain. A spark of disbelief.
A grinding jolt of recognition.
“Brock … is it really you?”
Slowly, he pivoted around to face a diminutive, dark-haired female who was paused in the driveway, just off the steps of the porch. He hadn’t noticed her when he’d passed her a moment ago. Good Christ, he wasn’t sure he would have recognized her if she’d come right up to him in the street.
But he knew her voice.
Beneath the grime of her captivity and the neglect that had made her cheeks sallow, her alabaster skin marred with dirt and scratches, he realized that he did, in fact, know her face, as well.
“Oh, my God.” He felt winded, as if someone had kicked all the air out of his lungs. “Cori
“It is you,” she whispered. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
Her face crumpled, and then she was sobbing. She ran to him, throwing her thin arms around his waist and weeping hard into his chest.
He held her, unsure what to do.
Unsure what to even think.
“You were dead,” he murmured. “You vanished without a trace, and then they pulled your body from the river. I saw it. You were dead, Cori
“No.” She vigorously shook her head, still sobbing, her small body heaving with soul-racking gasps. “They took me away.”
Fury flared in him, burning through the shock and disbelief. “Who took you?”
She hiccuped, drawing in a shaky breath. “I don’t know. They took me away and they kept me prisoner all this time. They did … things to me. They did horrible things, Brock.”