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Mac shook her head to clear her grogginess and untangle her thoughts. Where was she? Her mind did a replay up to the point of being ... kidnapped. Why?
Had to be for ransom.
Right?
Keeping her eyes closed, she listened for any hint of someone nearby. The longer they thought she was passed out, the longer they might leave her alone. Her arms ached. She’d expected to have her wrists bound, but she had what felt like manacles on her wrists and they’d been tied, or chained, above her head.
Manacles. This time her shiver had nothing to do with cold. This was just ... weird.
Had they asked Kossman about the ransom money? What if this wasn’t about getting money out of a billionaire? What if this was about her being a Mackenzie?
That would be worse. Her brother would dance at her funeral.
Come to think of it, shouldn’t the kidnappers have made her call someone for the money? Or did that only happen in the movies?
Preparing herself for whatever was going on, she lifted her head, expecting to find that she’d been locked in a room alone, with a guard watching her.
No guard, and not alone.
Tristan stood in the middle of the room.
No manacles. Not even tied up. Just him with his shirt off, and wearing only jeans. Good grief. What a body. Same light, tawny-colored hair, even though it was longer now and brushed his neck. Beefier body than before, and he’d been no wimp the last time. His face still had that sharp-angled, chiseled look though, with smooth skin she’d loved to touch again.
Strange, but she did miss the green eyes.
This was the worst time to be attracted to a lunatic, but seeing Tristan half-dressed reminded her of a happy memory.
When he’d pulled off his clothes in her bedroom.
He’d teased her. Like what you see, Mac?
She had loved what she’d seen. She’d met him during the last weeks of her first year at Georgia State. She’d gone there while waiting for her slot in the Titan scholarship program. Piedmont Park had been a two-mile walk from school, but only a few blocks from the attic apartment she rented over a garage.
She’d fallen for him in spite of his habit of wearing sunglasses everywhere. Ten days after they’d met, he’d kissed her and her world had tilted.
She’d had no idea about his habit of following her home each night to ensure she was safe. Then one night she felt the sharp tip of a knife against her back and froze.
The grunge-head would have succeeded in his attack if Tristan hadn’t plowed into the guy so hard he actually went airborne a moment and hit a tree.
Until that point, any man in her life had been a threat to her. She hadn’t expected one to step in to defend her.
By the time she had her wits about her, the guy was gone and Tristan convinced her the police would do nothing.
She’d thanked him and he’d told her to just go home.
Rude.
She’d walked across the lawn to her apartment and sat on the old steps leading up the side of the garage. He’d growled again at her to get inside.
It took a bit, but she convinced him to go upstairs with her.
When she woke up beside him the next morning, his sunglasses had slipped from his face. She lifted them, smiling while she studied him and waited for him to wake up.
He did.
Green eyes had glowed at her. Glowed.
That had sent her chasing a rare gene in her first year at Titan. One of her father’s opponents for his first senate run had gone looking for weaknesses in Mackenzie’s campaign, and paid another student to leak information on Mac. His contacts in the media taunted Mackenzie as the father of a woman hunting unicorns.
Brandon loved to remind his dad of the time when the future senator spent a buttload of money squashing the ridiculous story.
Mac would not deny her passion for ancient mythology, and had been known to attend Dragon Con. They grabbed onto all of it and made a mockery of her.
She still enjoyed Dragon Con. Screw those idiots.
But a lot had changed in five years.
Right now Tristan stared at her through muddy brown eyes that were as belligerent as the pose he struck, arms crossed and feet apart.
Why was he just standing there?
Could he see someone in the room that she couldn’t?
This had to be a kidnapping for money. Kossman would pay, because he’d think she’d been captured with a nonhuman.
Kossman would break the bank for a nonhuman specimen.
Lucky for her, Tristan believed he was that special.
But even someone mental should be trying to escape.
She licked her dry lips and tried not to long for water. Speaking as softly as she could, and hoping Tristan would hear her, Mac said, “Is anyone else around?”
He shook his head.
“Why aren’t you over here, trying to get my hands free so we can escape?” Yes, she’d like to believe Kossman would pay a ransom to get his employee and a potential specimen back, but she would be equally happy to escape without Kossman’s help.
“They have me locked in an invisible cage.”
She closed her eyes. Oh, dear God. How were they going to escape when Tristan had lost all touch with reality?
Opening her eyes, she started calculating. He had the brute strength with that body carved of muscle, but how could she get him to use those bulging guns if he believed trolls had captured them? What was next? Were they being held by an evil sorcerer?
Right.
Tristan had protected her once. Could she drag him back to reality by convincing him to do it again, then use that point of reality to get him to join up with her to escape? She asked, “How long have we been in here?”
“About two hours.”
“What? I wouldn’t have slept through all this for two hours.”
“They used a spell to put you to sleep.”
Argh! She held her patience. Focus on the goal–getting out of here. “Have they contacted Kossman?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He’s not behind the kidnapping. I heard one of them mention a sorcerer, but no name.”
Of course. Next he’ll say he heard me thinking about an evil sorcerer. She kept giving it the college try. “What are we going to do when they come back?”
“Depends.”
She ground her jaw. “On?”
“If you’ll do as I say. I’m not back to my full power, but I’m pretty sure I can take down two trolls. I just don’t know who’s really in charge.”
Don’t argue with someone mental. Damn him.
Tristan lowered his arms and looked to the right, where stairs led up to another floor. “Be quiet. They’re coming.”
She didn’t hear anything. Another minute later, she caught the sound of footsteps heading down from a floor above. Was she in a basement?
A man in his early forties, with a shocking blue gaze and thick brown hair, came into view. He wore a nicely cut suit, similar to the one she’d seen him in yesterday.
Seth Kako.
Her nemesis. The man who was vying for the same position as Mac.
He didn’t so much as pause as he passed Tristan, who glared daggers at Seth.
Tristan yelled, “What do you want with her when you have me, Sethos?”
Sethos? Did Tristan know him? She could forgive delusions, but not Tristan working with Seth.
Tristan pushed his hands, and strained like a mime pretending to shove a building off the foundation. Then he stopped and crossed his arms. Why did he have to be so gorgeous and so out of touch with the world?
Seth stopped in front of her and said, “You made a mistake signing on with Kossman, and now it’s going to cost you. He’ll be sad when he realizes you’ve disappeared after all he’s done for you.”
“What happened to Brewster and his man?”
Seth’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. “Their van was righted and my men used a bit of majik I gave them. Brewster and his driver returned to Kossman, reporting that it was a bogus call, no glowing green eyes, and you told them you would see him on Monday. They’ll also report that on the way back to the office they were in a hit-and-run wreck.” Seth’s smug voice had a sinister purr. “But don’t get your hopes up, because you aren’t going to be anywhere near Kossman come Monday.”
Cold chills clawed their way up her spine.
There would be no ransom money sent for her. She warned, “What do you think Kossman will do when you show up without me? You don’t think your prize specimen will talk and tell Kossman about me?”
“Him?” Seth jerked his thumb back toward Tristan, who was now quietly observing the conversation between her and Seth.
“Yes, him, unless you have someone else captive,” she replied.
“I have no intention of taking Kossman any specimens. I only vied for the position because Kossman has the resources to flush out others like Tristan. But it appears I will now be the frontrunner for head of the department once you’re gone.”
She’d been kidnapped by a lunatic who was going to kill her for what boiled down to nothing more than a freaking job.
What was it about her that drew crazy men?
“You two know each other?” Tristan asked, sounding disgusted.
She leaned to her side to see past Seth and snapped, “Not as well as you two obviously know each other. You’re clearly from the same psych ward as your buddy.”
“He’s not my damn buddy.”
“Well it sounds pretty chummy to me. Or maybe you’re the two best con artists to ever go after Kossman’s money.”
Seth raised his hands. “Children, children. Let’s not argue. I have a witch who will pay well for you, Elaine.” He turned to Tristan. “Much as I’d like to keep you, there’s a Medb bounty on your head that I can’t turn down.”
Who or what is Mave?
Tristan laughed. “I hear there’s a new witch council in Atlanta, and Rowan’s at the head of it. Sure you want to get brought up on charges for dealing in humans?”
Mac knew enough from studying that there could be real witches, but the idea of trolls and sorcerers was ridiculous. Although, from the technical definitions she’d studied, a sorcerer, in ancient cultures, was basically considered to be a type of powerful witch. In spite of her circumstances, her curiosity kicked in.
Was there actually a witch council as Tristan claimed, or was he trying to scare Seth?
And what was the relationship between these two?
Were they scam artists who just knew each other, but did not work together?
Seth laughed at Tristan. “What the hell happened to your eyes? Do you even have any powers left, or did they strip them from you in Treoir? Heard you got stuck there after the Medb invasion.”
Tristan shrugged. “Macha isn’t known as a merciful goddess.”
Mac’s heart jumped in her throat. We’re back to glowing green eyes again? Except Seth made it sound real.
Whatever was going on, Mac’s survival instincts were not happy with her chances of leaving here alive. Worse, she might be handed over to someone who either was a witch or pretending to be one—how could she know for sure with Seth?—who apparently considered Mac valuable. As what? A sacrifice?
What would a witch do to me?
Tristan had tested the invisible walls imprisoning him. Sethos had him locked in tight.
And Sethos knew Mac.
But did Mac realize that Sethos was a sorcerer?
Had the bastard touched her?
The beast inside Tristan stirred at that thought. He ran the past few hours through his mind. Nope, Mac had no idea she’d been dealing with a predator. Hell, she still didn’t believe Tristan and Sethos weren’t human.
Sethos stepped close to Tristan’s cage. If there had been no wall between them, Tristan could have grabbed him by the neck and snapped his head off.
When all else failed in Tristan’s world, removing the head from the body usually did the trick.
Sethos glanced over at Mac then at Tristan. “How do you know Elaine?”
“Why? Worried I’ll get word to Kossman?”
“No, there won’t be anything left once I’ve enjoyed her and handed her off to the witch.”
Tristan’s beast raged inside him. “Touch her, and I’ll take you apart one limb at a time. You know I can.”
“Ah.” Sethos smiled as though he’d just gained important information. “You two have slept together, huh? I will definitely keep her as entertainment for a while. It won’t prevent the witch from paying top dollar.”
Shit. Tristan wanted blood. That’s why you never get close to anyone. The Medb coven had used his foster sister as leverage against him before, but Petrina was an Alterant who could protect herself.
Mac was human.
Sethos laughed all the way up the stairs and didn’t even lock the door, so sure that he had Tristan contained.
Tristan had rested only a few hours. He could teleport himself out, but what about Mac?
Her head hung forward, as if she’d lost all hope.
Voices shouted upstairs, but sounded far off, like maybe outside the building. Power rocked the structure, and it shuddered. Someone shouted, “Get the gryphon!”
More bounty hunters. Would the suck ever quit hammering this day?
Mac hadn’t moved. Her human ears weren’t picking up on the threat heading their way.
Tristan and Mac had to leave. Now.
He couldn’t risk his contacts hampering his powers. Tristan reached up and pinched each one off.
Closing his eyes, he teleported. When he opened his eyes, he stood next to Mac.
She jerked her head up at him. “What took you so long to do something?” Her mouth gaped open. “Glowing eyes again? Really, Tristan?”
Call him speechless. This was beyond fucked up.
The door burst open at the top of the stairs, and the sound of power being thrown around boomed.
“What’s going on?” Mac cried out.
“They’re having an auction for my head.” He pointed his finger at her manacles, intending to unlock them with his kinetics. Nothing happened.
What the hell? He bet Sethos had put a spell on the lock that prevented it from opening except with the key.
She’d watched Tristan and her face fell at some realization. “You don’t have superpowers. We need a key.”
Loud explosions were going off upstairs, like someone had set fire to a fireworks plant.
While Mac’s gaze was locked on the stairs, Tristan put his right hand on her shoulder to teleport both of them out. If she didn’t know what was happening, she wouldn’t freak out. He felt the change coming over him, but only half of him. When he looked at the left half of his body, it was slowly turning translucent.
Damn. He still couldn’t teleport. Had Sethos warded this whole downstairs room?
Mac reached up and patted Tristan’s hand then turned worried eyes to him. “Hide in that closet and I’ll try to convince them you escaped through that high window.”
Was she nuts? “First of all, we couldn’t push a Chihuahua through that gap, and if I did hide where Sethos couldn’t find me, he’d torture you.”
She gave him a weak smile. “I can’t get out. But you’re free. If you can fight your way out, do it and call Kossman. He’ll send in the equivalent of a SEAL team. I know he will. He’s that kind of guy.”
He’s that kind of guy? Mac made Kossman sound like some kind of god.
What am I? Chopped liver? Tristan realized something else in her words. Mac was willing to help him escape even if she couldn’t.
She’d do that for me?
Tristan didn’t need a damn human to save Mac. He snarled, “I’m not leaving you.”
Fighting poured down the stairs.
She argued, “Are you determined to get yourself killed?”
Tristan leaned down and kissed her hard. When he broke the kiss, he asked, “Would it matter?”
Her eyes warmed, then her heart climbed out and perched on her shoulder, just like it had five years ago.
He could see the truth in her gaze when she admitted, “Yes, it would matter. I must be just as delusional as the rest of you because, God knows why, I still care about you.”
“Hold that thought.”
