No one could hear her screams.
She didn’t know how long she’d been down here, unconscious, but her throat hurt from the effort, and the darkness had crept in. Still, no one had come for her. The combination of damp earth and salt dove deep in her lungs. Her fingers were sore—possibly bloodied—from clawing at the dirt walls, but with the arrow in her shoulder, she hadn’t been able to climb. With the tarp above, she couldn’t see well enough to determine what else could be down here. The man who’d taken her—the Hunter—had tossed her into a pit trap and left her to die.
She screamed again, her throat raw. She closed her eyes against her last memories of Declan. There’d been so much blood. His face had been covered in it. Was he still alive? Had he gotten free? Had he gotten help?
Kate forced herself to breathe evenly, to consider the situation rationally. She wasn’t going to run out of air down here, and the tarp overhead would keep most of the elements at bay, but she could starve. She could die of dehydration.
Rubbing at her throat, she sank back on her heels. From what she could tell, the circular pit was about ten feet in diameter and ten feet deep. No branches or roots protruding from the sides to help her climb, but the pain in her shoulder combined with the loss of blood had only let her survey half of the hole so far.
Screaming wouldn’t help. She was trapped. Like an animal.
“Think.” She had to control the fear skirting up her spine. Deep breath through her nose, exhale through her mouth. The tension burrowing in her neck almost released. Almost.
The Hunter didn’t want her dead. At least, not yet. Why else would he have shielded his face and disguised his voice? Which meant he’d been reacting to having her at the scene of his last kill. He hadn’t planned for her, but if she didn’t get herself out of here, she was going to die. He’d only stashed her here until he could figure out what to do with her or until he could come back. But Kate didn’t want to die.
She felt around, her fingers brushing against a large rock that barely fit in the palm of her hand. She couldn’t do anything until she dealt with the arrow in her shoulder. Wiping her damp palm on her jeans, she clutched the rock as hard as she could. The arrow hadn’t gone all the way through. She couldn’t pull it out without tearing through more tendon and muscle and possibly damaging her shoulder permanently.
Tapping her head back against the wall of dirt behind her, she closed her eyes. Declan was out there, alone, bleeding. He needed her to get out of this hole, and no matter how many times she’d tried telling herself differently, she needed him. Needed his concern, his touch. She needed that gut-wrenching smile. The only way she’d get to experience any of those things again was to force the arrow all the way through her shoulder. “You can do this.”
Most arrow fletchings were super glued to the end of the shaft. This one was made from feathers. Flexible enough to travel through the hole she was about to tunnel into her shoulder if she needed. Holding the rock straight ahead, she positioned it until one smooth side slid against the end of the shaft. Three. Kate swallowed the sudden dryness in her throat. Two. Deep breath. One. She slammed the rock into the arrow as hard as she could.
A strained scream ripped through her as metal pierced through flesh for the second time in a span of a few hours. She battled to stay conscious as darkness cut across her vision, and she dropped the rock beside her. Her lungs worked overtime to keep up with her racing heartbeat.
The woods went utterly silent above the tarp, then slowly came back to life as she remembered to breathe. Leaning forward, she winced as the arrowhead pulled against smaller roots and dirt at her back. She’d pinned herself to the dirt wall by forcing the head of the arrow through, but now she had to separate the arrow tip from the shaft. Still pinned, she wrenched her shoulder away from the wall. Reaching back, her fingers shook as she slipped the edge of the arrowhead. In a few turns, the blood-coated metal dropped away, and she was able to maneuver the shaft back through the entry wound.
“Stay awake. You’ve got to stay awake.” She discarded the shaft of the arrow. Damp earth gave way beneath her boots as she pushed away from the wall, but she sank immediately back to the ground in the middle of the pit. Tightening her hold in the fine labyrinth of roots in the pit floor, she pressed her forehead to the cool dirt.
No, she had to move to the edges, had to find something sturdy to grab on to to pull herself up. Couldn’t think about the physics of holding her own weight with one good arm right now. She had to try.
Muted beams of moonlight penetrated through one edge of the tarp above, but not enough for her to see. How long had she been down here? Six hours? More? Stiffness worked through her fingers as temperatures dropped, but she kept moving, kept searching. There had to be something—anything—she could use to pull herself up. “Come on.”
Her boot caught on rogue roots at her feet, and she pitched sideways, landing directly on top of something soft, yet solid. The smell of salt tickled her nose as she struggled to sit up. Salt and...cologne?
Supporting herself with her good arm, she fisted her hands in what felt like wet T-shirt material. What the hell? The Hunter wouldn’t have left supplies. The tarp shifted from above, allowing more light into the pit, and horror flooded her.
Shoving back as fast as she could, Kate didn’t stop until her back hit the other side of the hole. Air pressurized in her lungs, but it couldn’t distract her from the sight of a dead body.
Another victim of the Hunter?
The wetness on his shirt... Blood. Kate rubbed her palms into the dirt, frantically trying to wipe it away. Rationally, she knew it wouldn’t do any good, but rationale had gone out the window the minute she’d been thrown in a pit. She was a prisoner for however long the Hunter wanted to keep her.
Tears burned her cheeks as the soft settling of snowflakes on the tarp filled her ears. Michaels’s hideout was located far outside Porter Creek’s limits. Nobody was coming to save her. Nobody would hear her screaming. Nobody walked these woods at night. She was on her own.
Too many bodies. The first three, then that poor woman in the field. Mary. And now another body here in the pit with her. Kate had dropped her phone and her gun in the grass when the Hunter had shot her. Had any of her emergency tactics gone through so law enforcement could find the Hunter’s latest trophy?
She shook her head, wiped at her face with the back of her hand. Didn’t matter right now. It wasn’t a coincidence her former patient had been out here the same time the Hunter had made his latest kill. They were connected.
She needed to know how. She would not give up. “Get up, Monroe.”
She had to finish searching for something to pull herself out. The body lay straight ahead. As much as the thought sickened her, she could use the victim as a sort of stepping stool to higher ground, a branch or root just out of reach. She followed the curve of the pit trap back around until her boot hit the sickeningly familiar feel of the corpse’s bloated middle.
Moonlight shifted around the edges of the tarp, and Kate froze. Recognition flared, and her heart rate quickened. The gash across his neck revealed the cause of death, and those wide brown eyes... She was staring at Brian Michaels. The shooter she’d been desperately trying to locate was right in front of her. Only... “The Hunter found you first.”
He’d made sure Michaels would never pull a trigger again.
Was she supposed to feel bad about that? Goose bumps prickled across her skin. She couldn’t look away from the body at her feet. Couldn’t force herself to feel...anything. Leveling her chin, she reached for the wall of dirt for balance as she stepped onto Michaels’s torso. Snowflakes worked through the edges of the flapping tarp from above, catching in her eyelashes as she skimmed her fingers over the wall.
Her palm brushed over a large, protruding root, and she latched on with her uninjured hand as tight as she could. She held back the sob of relief swelling inside. She had to keep it together. At least long enough to get out of this hole, long enough until she found Declan. Then she’d trek back to the SUV, call for backup and lead the search team back for Mary’s and Michaels’s bodies.
She lifted one boot and slammed it into the wall for leverage. Wrapping the root around her forearm, Kate tested her weight. It held, but the tricky part came next. She bit back the groan clawing up her throat as she raised her injured arm overhead. She gripped the root hard and hauled herself up the wall of dirt, slid her hands higher and did it again. Pain ripped through her shoulder, sweat beaded above her furrowed eyebrows and dripped down her spine, but she only pushed herself harder. She was almost there. A cold breeze grazed across the back of her hands as she reached the top of the root, a sensation she’d never take for granted again.
One more foot until she reached the top of the pit. That was all it would take—
The root broke free from the wall and then she was falling. “No!”
She hit the ground hard, the air knocked from her lungs. Her lungs spasmed until she finally gulped enough oxygen to clear the shock.
The edge of the tarp above fluttered with a gust of wind, then rolled back to expose her and Michaels to the elements. Snow fell in a heavy layer now, homing her attention to the root still clutched in her hand. That was her last chance of getting out.
Flakes melted against her skin as she lay there. She barely had the strength to lift her head, let alone try to climb the wall again, but she wouldn’t die down here.
She hadn’t survived three bullets wounds, a miscarriage and a year’s worth of grief over losing her husband to die in the bottom of a pit. She’d fight. She’d find Declan. She’d get the Hunter’s victims the justice they deserved. She didn’t know how to give up.
Rolling to her side, Kate shoved to her feet, approached the wall and pulled in a long, slow breath. “Help!”
* * *
“CUT HIM DOWN!” an unfamiliar voice shouted. “And find Kate!”
White light brightened the backs of his eyelids, and he forced himself to open his eyes. Hands hanging over his head, he blinked to clear the haze. Five beams of light bounced in front of him. Or was it ten?
“Her phone pinged over by that fallen tree. Vincent, you’re with me.” Female voice this time. Recognition flared as two flashlight beams swung off to his right. Elizabeth Dawson?
“Declan, you alive?” Sullivan Bishop appeared in front of him, the reflective light from Blackhawk Security founder’s flashlight deepening the very serious creases in his forehead.
“As far...as I can tell.” The words barely slipped from his frozen lips. The last thing he remembered was trying to reach the knife he’d dropped when the trap had hung him upside down. After that... He couldn’t remember. Which wasn’t a new feeling. “Where’s... Kate?”
“We’re looking for her.” Sullivan twisted around as another flashlight closed in. This one belonging to Anthony Harris. “Give me your knife. I need you to catch him when I cut the line.”
“How did you...know...” Declan’s body urged him to close his eyes, but he fought against the drugging effect of the cold. They hadn’t found Kate yet. The second her team cut him down, he’d go out and look for her. He wouldn’t stop until he found her.
“Kate hit the emergency settings on her phone, which pinged Anchorage PD and us. We came as soon as we got the call. Police are searching the cabin where you and Kate left the SUV. We came straight here.” Sullivan disappeared from Declan’s peripheral vision. The sound of something scratching against tree bark filled his ears. Sullivan was climbing the tree holding Declan hostage. “What the hell happened to my profiler?”
“He took her.” Another storm of rage exploded through Declan, but he couldn’t act on it. He couldn’t do anything right now, but the bastard would pay for every broken hair on her head. Declan guaranteed it. “He took her. I tried to stop him. I wasn’t fast enough.”
“We’ll find her.” Sullivan’s voice dipped into dangerous territory. “Trust me. This is what we do best.”
“I’m trying to come up with a reason you’re still alive with that much blood on you.” Anthony took position directly under Declan’s shoulders. “Why is it every time we meet, you’re literally dying?”
“You got a better...first impression...in mind?” Every breath was agony. Cold worked through him, and the loss of blood didn’t help. The wound in his side had gone numb a while ago. Hell, he didn’t know how long he’d been strung up like an animal. How long had Kate been missing? Declan rolled his fingers into fists. To prove he had the strength. “I need to find her.”
“You need an ambulance.” The branch wrapped with trapping line bounced as Sullivan pushed out farther, knife in hand. The flashlight in his mouth skimmed over Declan’s face, and Declan blinked at the sudden brightness. “You can’t do anything for Kate if you’re dead.”
“I’m not leaving her out here alone.” No way in hell. He’d made her a promise. He wasn’t going anywhere until she was in his arms. Forget an ambulance. Forget the investigation. Forget the past. Declan needed to find her.
“Get ready to grab him, Anthony.” The line swayed with Sullivan’s efforts to cut through it. What the hell had the Hunter used? Whale line? “He’s going to come down hard, and Kate might kill us herself if she finds out we let him die on our watch.”
“Please drop me. I’d like...to see that.” Declan braced for impact a split second before the line snapped. His shoulder slammed into Anthony’s, but the former Ranger flipped him to his feet as though Declan’s two hundred pounds—minus at least a liter of blood—meant nothing.
The world swayed, and he stumbled forward but quickly steeled himself. He’d been shot and left upside down for dead, but he wasn’t going to give her team any reason to leave him behind during the search. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Anthony slipped a pair of brown aviator glasses over his eyes, voice low and even, then unholstered the gun from his shoulder holster. “Ever.”
“Here, cover up.” Sullivan tossed him a shirt.
“We’ve got something!” a voice shouted, followed by heavy breathing and footsteps. Elizabeth materialized out of the darkness, but her tone of voice indicated it wasn’t because she had good news. “You’re going to want to see this, boss.”
Sullivan followed without a word, Declan on his trail with Anthony’s support. Tall grass and weeds parted as they made their way toward Vincent Kalani’s flashlight. Then he noted nothing but red silk.
A body.
“I’d say she died around the same time Kate pinged us with her phone. Six hours, give or take thirty minutes.” Vincent moved his flashlight over a woman partially hidden beneath a bed of leaves and pine cones. Tossing something at his boss, the forensics expert crouched beside the victim and pointed west. “I found Kate’s phone a few feet away in the grass over there. Must’ve hit the emergency signal when she found the body.”
Sullivan checked the phone. “Then we can’t track her with her phone. We’ll have to go in blind. Anthony, you’re with me.” Sullivan tapped his earpiece and searched the tree line where Declan had been hung up to die. “Elliot, quit messing with the damn trap and find something we can track. Vincent, stay with the victim until Anchorage PD or the FBI can take custody. Liz, I want a map of this area on my phone in the next thirty seconds. We’re going after Kate.”
“I’m...coming, too,” Declan said.
Blond hair, green eyes staring straight into the sky, athletic build. Declan’s stomach lurched. He didn’t give a damn how much blood he’d lost. This victim was one of the Hunter’s. Serials usually had a cooling-off period, a time frame while they enjoyed their latest conquest. But not this one. Both this woman and Michaels had died at the Hunter’s hand today. Kate wouldn’t be next.
Blinking through another round of dizziness, Declan accepted Elizabeth’s offered water bottle and downed as much liquid as he could take. “He shot her with an arrow. She’s bleeding. You need as many eyes as you can get out there.”
“Why do I have the feeling you won’t take no for an answer?” Sullivan pegged him with that sea-blue gaze, then extracted a backup weapon, handing it to Declan grip first.
“Let’s roll out.” Declan checked the weapon, loaded a round into the chamber. One way or another, he was getting Kate back. “She’s been gone too long as it is.”
The team didn’t need any more motivation than that, taking positions. Declan headed for Elliot’s flashlight beam at the edge of the woods, checking the time on his wrist. Six hours. That was how long she’d been gone. Anything could’ve happened in that time, but his gut said she was still alive. She was out there. He ignored the burn of his damaged skin thawing around the wound. Nothing would stop him from finding her.
“Over here! Looks like she put up quite the fight.” Elliot swung his flashlight beam straight at them, then back into the heavy shadows as they approached. “Into the woods I go, to lose my mind—”
“—and find my soul,” Declan finished.
An apt quote. Because Kate wasn’t anything less. She’d been part of him from the beginning, the missing piece. Always would be.
Declan studied the tracks, fresh drag marks leading deeper into the wilderness. He avoided stepping directly on them to preserve the evidence. The minute the news of the Hunter’s latest victim hit, the FBI would descend. And he wasn’t about to mess up any chance his former employer had of taking this suspect down.
The drag marks disappeared about fifty feet in from the field, leaving only one set of boot prints. The Hunter had carried her from here, but he had rushed this one. Her abduction hadn’t been planned, and he’d made mistakes along the way. He’d left evidence. “This way. Stay sharp. This bastard...is good at what he does.”
Declan took point at the head of their pack. Every sound, every movement raised his awareness to another level. This was what the FBI had trained him for, what he’d been good at before the shooting. There were some things he’d never forget. Hunting was one of them.
A few branches off to his right had snapped at the ends, as though someone had broken them on the way through these parts of the woods. He headed that direction.
“You sure you know where you’re going?” Sullivan asked.
“Yes.” Positive. Kate was counting on him. And there was no way in hell he’d let her down again. Declan slowed as silence descended. What were the chances every animal had vacated the area at the same time? Unless... He pulled up one hand, signaling the team to stop. And listened.
“Help!”
He jerked at that scream, as if he’d been struck by lightning.
“Kate.” Declan surged straight ahead, leaving the Blackhawk team behind. Lights swept the area ahead of him and reflected off what looked like a tarp buried with leaves. Fresh snow crunched beneath his boots as he slid to a stop at the edge of a man-made pit in the middle of the woods.
Declan ripped back the tarp, shone his light down into the hole. And there, at the edge, Kate frantically tried to scramble out of the trap.
“Get her the hell out of there!” he yelled.
“Help!” She strained again. “Help, help, help...”
“I’m coming, angel.” The team circled the pit, but he couldn’t wait anymore. The anguish in her voice pulled him down the steep side. He clutched thick roots and rocks to make it to the bottom, and within seconds Declan ripped her away from the wall and into his arms.
Her bloodied fingers locked on his borrowed shirt, the sobs racking her.
“I’ve got you.” His hands shook. Declan scanned the bottom of the pit; one of the team’s flashlights pointed at a mass of clothing and flesh a few feet away. The Hunter had put her in the hole with Michaels.
Turning her away from the remains, he held her until Sullivan, Anthony and Elliot pulled her from the Hunter’s trap.
Anthony then hauled Declan up to the edge of the hole and pulled him from the pit.
Declan wrapped her in his arms again.
“I thought you were dead.” Her voice rasped. How long had she been screaming down there? How many times had she tried to climb the walls? Had she lost hope he’d come for her?
“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He needed to get her to a hospital. The blood blooming across her shirt was still wet, sliding down her side. He’d nearly lost her, and there hadn’t been a damn thing he could’ve done about it. Never again. She was his priority. Not recovering his memories. Not tracking down the Hunter. Kate.
“Michaels...” she said. “He was in there with me.”
“You never have to worry about him again.” Declan strengthened his hold on her as they trekked back the way they’d come. The ambulances would be arriving soon if they hadn’t already. Intertwining his fingers with hers, he planted a kiss on the back of her hand.
As for the Hunter, Declan was only getting started.