Dare You to Run (15 page)

She was so having two pieces.

There was a huge, gleaming white gazebo with lilac netting and ribbons adorning it. Music was coming from a string quartet sitting in the shade of a large tree while the bride-to-be welcomed her guests.

“I'm so glad you could make it!” Laura exclaimed as she leaned in to hug Damascus. “Rumor has it, you might be next. I am so jealous.”

Laura gave her a knowing wink before moving on to the next VIP in line without a single care for the fact that she'd happily dump her current fiancé for a bigger fish. Laura was everything Jeb wished Damascus was. The perfect opportunity-seeking daughter.

Damascus happily handed off the large box that contained something from Laura's extravagant gift list. There were two uniformed caterers assigned to the duty of cataloging the gifts and taking them away to a waiting van.

Damascus took a glass of champagne off a tray and felt the tension lifting from her shoulders. Just ten more days. It seemed impossible in a way and yet her careful planning was about to come to pass.

Would it bring her peace?

It certainly wasn't going to bring her the man she loved.

She frowned as she lifted her glass, but the scent of the champagne only made her belly roll. She didn't want to numb her wits. If that was all it took to placate her, she would have fallen in line with her sire's plans and happily accepted Carl's offer, because she could run to the liquor cabinet anytime she needed an escape.

No, she wanted more from life. Freedom. Choice. Her gaze moved to the cake.

Frosting.

And no one got everything. Vitus would move on. That thought would have to satisfy her. At least until they cut the cake.

*   *   *

It was a private house, but there was an army of suited men prowling the perimeter.

“Worse than mosquitoes in the south,” Saxon groused.

Vitus considered the group of private security milling around the edges of the garden. The women attending the shower looked like a bunch of koi in a sunken pool at a sushi restaurant. Inside the pool, they thought they were the masters. But in truth, they were the ones being contained.

A touch of pity caught him unaware.

His temper had been hot enough to keep him from really dwelling on his feelings, but now he couldn't dismiss just how much empathy he felt for Damascus.

Okay, and the feeling that she still needed him to rescue her too.

Shit.

He didn't need to go down that thought path. It was only going to lead to trouble. Damascus didn't want his help. That was the reason she'd come to see him, to tell him to leave her alone.

Yeah, but what had her actions said?

That was what was chewing on his insides. People said a whole lot of stuff, but truth, well, that was found in their actions. He moved and caught Damascus in his sights. She'd broken away from the rest of the group and perched herself on the edge of a large garden bench. There was a blush on her cheeks and a small smile curving her lips as she eyed the slice of cake in her hands. He was fixated on her as she used a polished fork to slice off the pointed tip of the cake and scoop it up. Enjoyment sparkled in her eyes as she opened her lips and closed them around the cake. Her eyes had even shut, like she was enjoying some forbidden pleasure.

Which she was.

He recalled her bare body perfectly. The low body fat didn't take to cake very well. But realizing what her joy stemmed from only left him with more questions. Was it by her design? The intense training? That would hold a lot of water considering the mess he'd pulled her out of three years ago. A person only had two choices after something like that—build up your strength so you could cultivate enough confidence to feel safe or turn to medication to dull your wits so you could sleep at night.

“I learned it myself.”

He recalled what she'd said at the White House and felt his misgivings double. He would put money on the fact that her father wasn't having her trained to be anything but the perfect politician's wife.

One of the catering staff appeared, diligent to the core. Damascus was startled, bringing a small grin to Vitus's lips. Sometimes, she was so damn innocent. Caught with her plate of cake she blinked at the waiter, taking a glass of champagne and mumbling out a hasty thank-you to send the guy on his way.

She actually looked both ways before going back to her treat, making him want to go get her the entire damn cake just to see her smile.

*   *   *

She was sneaking cake. It was pretty pathetic. Damascus lifted a forkful up and considered it. Everyone wanted something. Some women might envy her for her slender figure while she was stuck noticing how unfair it was that she had to slip away to eat a slice of cake.

She took a sip of the champagne and then another because the sugar had made her mouth dry. A contented smile curved her lips as she became fascinated by a butterfly. It was fluttering about, moving among the milkweed. She got up and started after it, enthralled by its colors and motions.

So free …

So … beautiful …

*   *   *

“Something's wrong,” Saxon said.

“No shit.” Vitus answered his brother but he was already in motion. Saxon hooked his arm and held him back. Vitus dislodged his grip with a hard and efficient motion.

“We need some backup,” Saxon hissed into his cell phone.

Damascus was wobbling. The plate of cake was facedown in the grass where it had tumbled from her fingers. The glass of champagne was about to join it as she wandered after a butterfly, her normal poise gone as she staggered with half-closed eyes and a bemused smile on her lips.

It was the last thing he saw as the waiter passed them, and then it felt like lightning hit. The burst of light was so bright, it sent a shaft of pain through his skull that slammed him into unconsciousness like a baseball bat to the back of the skull.

*   *   *

“Shut up. I need to piss.”

Damascus blinked, but it was still dark. It took a while for her to realize she had something tapped over her eyes. Then she twisted and felt the bite of cold metal on her wrists. A strange whine was coming closer. She bit into the gag that was between her teeth. Fear was bubbling up so thick, it threatened to choke her.

Get … a … grip!

She shouted at herself, frantically trying to maintain her composure. It was up to her. She knew it, had faced it before.

“Awake?”

Someone yanked her off of whatever she was lying on and sat her up. Her breath was coming in little rasps, giving her away.

“Good. You can use the can before takeoff.”

A rough hand gripped her upper arms and pulled her to her feet. She got twisted up because she was so disoriented.

“Walk, bitch. Because I don't really care if you wet your pants and sit in it for the next day. Just don't really want to smell it all the way to the Quarter.”

She believed him. His tone left no doubt that he considered her a thing. Something he was dealing with in order to get paid. The job. Men like him could do the most horrible things once they applied the mental label of “job” to some person. She had ceased to be a human being in his mind.

Damascus forced her feet to work and stumbled in the direction he shoved her. She hit her shin on something, and something else jabbed into her thigh.

“Gonna unlock you, but if you give me any grief, I'll let you sit in your shit after this.”

There was a click as one of the handcuffs was unlocked and then she was shoved forward. A door closed behind her. She ripped at the blindfold and gulped in some deep breaths once she could see again.

She hated the dark.

It was the one thing she'd never quite banished from her first abduction.

Well, you can see now, so get it together.

She had to. The small bathroom was somewhat clean. She also realized what the whine was. It was the engines on the plane warming up, a small private jet of some sort.

She turned around and used the bathroom, because wetting herself wasn't something she needed to add to the moment. She looked at herself in the mirror and stared at the dragonfly. It had torn part of her dress but was still attached. She grabbed it and unpinned it, moving it to the inside of her bra. It made a slightly uncomfortable bulge against her breast but she decided it was the best feeling in the world.

Because it meant she wasn't alone.

*   *   *

“How can my daughter be missing?” Jeb Ryland demanded. “It's your fucking job to handle security.”

“The culprits had forged IDs,” Tyler Martin replied. “Allowing them right onto the grounds of Senator Forrest's home. Those radical extremists are resourceful.”

The congressman was pacing around his office. Tyler made sure the doors were locked before he continued. “I made sure they won't be traced back to me.”

Jeb flipped around, his mouth hanging open.

Tyler offered him a half smile. “You can send the Hale brothers after her. It's a rather dangerous assignment, might even cost them their lives, but when all the evidence is sorted out, there are sure to be a lot of questions as to why both brothers were at the scene of the crime and knocked out. Seems rather clumsy of two former SEALs to get downed so easily. In fact, some might conclude that they were in on it.”

Jeb shut his mouth, his eyes narrowing. He made a continue motion with his hand.

“Your daughter gets a couple of days in captivity to remind her how good she's got it and the Hale brothers die trying to rescue her. Once the official investigation kicks off, the fact that they both were at the scene of the kidnapping will lead the investigators down a carefully laid path of evidence to incriminate them.”

Jeb was nodding.

“Which should make sure your daughter settles into her engagement without any more night excursions.”

Jeb looked at him, clearly confused. Tyler tossed a couple of black-and-white photos of Damascus on his desk.

“Some families are still traditional,” Tyler explained. “Your daughter made the mistake of doing her quick change in the store of one. The father found her clothing and took her picture off his security system. Brought it up here to the house because he felt a father should know what his daughter was up to. He did me a favor. It was a shame to have to cancel his family's visas but we can't have them around when the election heats up.”

“Where was she going?” Jeb demanded.

“To see her lover,” Tyler replied. “Vitus Hale.” He tossed another set of photos down. “Tracked the kid's car across town through traffic cameras. He dropped her off about five blocks from Hale's house. That's proof enough. Nowhere else she would have been going to.”

Jeb had turned red. He was crumpling the edges of the photo as he nodded.

“As you can see, I have the situation in hand.”

“You'd better!” Jeb snapped.

Tyler slowly grinned. “Let's get one thing clear between us.” He leaned over the desk and grabbed the photo, ripping it out of Jeb's hand. “I am not your bitch.”

“You are what I say you are,” Jeb responded. But there was a tremor in his tone that betrayed his fear.

“I am the best,” Tyler continued. “Start treating me like it or I will be out your door and through another one so fast, you won't have time to wipe your ass before I let out some evidence that will have the hounds nipping at your cheeks for a pound of flesh.”

Jeb started to say something but thought better of it.

“Good.” Tyler straightened up. “I'm going to get back to performing the task you set for me. You need to insist Special Agents Saxon and Vitus Hale be assigned to the case of retrieving your daughter. After all, there is no one else you trust with the assignment.”

Jeb nodded and reached for his phone. Tyler whistled softly on his way out of the office. Things were running as smoothly as could be.

Time for phase two.

*   *   *

“There isn't a fucking mark on either of us,” Vitus growled.

Greer was considering the area, down in a low crouch as he looked at the plants. He moved forward, using a pen to move a branch of rosemary aside. “Someone was here.”

Saxon frowned, trying to recall the moments before he'd blacked out.

“And I saw a flash.” Greer stood. “My guess is the waiter took you two out with a flash grenade. Or a handheld version of it. The security footage is nothing but an overexposed frame.”

Vitus exchanged a long look with Saxon. “She had the dragonfly on.”

Saxon pulled out his phone and tapped in a password. Vitus moved next to him, but there was no signal to be found.

“She's in the air,” Vitus said. “Above the cell towers.”

Saxon nodded. Vitus was already moving when his phone vibrated. He pulled it out. Kagan's identification code was flashing on the screen.

“Seems you two have made the special-assignment list,” Kagan said. “The good congressman has requested you both to be put on the team looking for his daughter.”

“That stinks,” Vitus replied.

“Agreed,” Kagan responded.

“Especially when you factor in that Saxon and I were taken out by a flash grenade,” Vitus continued.

“A nice little classified weapon that only a SEAL would have access to,” Kagan finished.

“Exactly,” Vitus said. “I don't need to look far for who is behind that.”

“You have full resources. Go off-grid. Far far off,” Kagan instructed.

The line went dead. Vitus felt like something inside him woke up. If Tyler wanted to dance, fine. But the man had made a huge mistake in using Damascus. Because now, killing him was just too good.

*   *   *

“Put that blindfold back on before I open this door.”

Damascus jumped, but ordered herself to remain calm. “Okay,” she stammered out, wincing when she realized how scared she sounded.