by Delores Fossen, Rachel Lee, Carol Ericson, Tyler Anne Snell, Rita Herron
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.
Chapter Nine
She was going to die.
“No!” Kate shoved herself up to sit. The sudden brightness of overhead lights and incessant beeping of machinery forced panic—greedy and dark—up her still raw throat before familiar blue eyes filled her vision.
“I’ve got you, angel.” Declan’s voice triggered an automatic chain reaction within her body, urging her to relax, to trust, but the nightmare had been so real. No. Not a nightmare. A memory.
Calluses caught on her skin as he smoothed his hand down the only part of her that didn’t ache. “You’re safe.”
“Declan.” She hurt. The beeping wouldn’t stop. She blinked to clear her head. She wasn’t in the pit anymore. Broken pieces of memory clicked into place the longer his touch anchored her to the present, and she slipped back against the pillows of the hospital bed with his help. Her heart pounded hard behind her rib cage. “How long have I been unconscious?”
He traced the veins in the back of her hand with the pad of this thumb. A bit more color had returned to his skin, but the bruising across his face and hands stood stark against white hospital sheets. It’d been a miracle the damage hadn’t been worse. Left for dead in a snare trap, stitches torn open during the fight with the man who’d shot her, but the small butterfly bandages said he’d at least seen a doctor while she’d been under anesthesia. “You got out of surgery a few hours ago. The surgeon was able to repair the damage in your shoulder, but you’ll be in a sling for a few weeks.
”
A few hours of her life. Gone. She’d already lost so many after the surgery to remove the bullets the first time around.
Kate studied him at her bedside. He was alive. After what happened—after accepting the reality she’d never see him again—he was alive. She wasn’t going to waste any more time. The brightness wouldn’t lessen, but focusing on him helped the throbbing in her head.
Declan hated hospitals. Had he been by her side the entire time? “You don’t have to stay here. I know how uncomfortable hospitals make you.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I almost lost you, and it was worse than any trauma I’ve ever endured,” he said.
Pressure released in her chest.
Pulling the back of her hand to his mouth, he planted a kiss on the thin, oversensitive skin. Stubble prickled against her hand, but it was the guilt in his gaze that hollowed her from the inside out. “I never should’ve lost track of you when you went after Michaels. I—”
“Don’t.” Kate moved her fingers to his mouth. He had no reason to apologize. Flashes of those terrifying seconds when she wasn’t sure he’d live or die as the Hunter closed in sprinted into reality. She tried shoving it into the tiny box she’d created to survive over the last year at the back of her mind, but there were still so many unanswered questions.
Desperation burned through her. They’d almost died out there. She’d almost lost him—again—and she couldn’t stand to not be touching him for another moment. Kate fisted her hand with what strength she’d managed to hold on to and pulled him into the bed.
Declan shifted closer, and she nearly collapsed into him. Settling back into the pillows, he positioned her along his side. She slipped her hand over his chest.
He pushed a strand of her hair out of her face, then framed her jaw with the palm of his hand. “I would’ve killed him if I hadn’t found you.”
“None of this is your fault. There was no way we could’ve known he was out there, waiting for us to spring his trap.” Kate set her forehead against his and closed her eyes. His scent clung to her, spread through her system, got into her head, revitalized a part of her she believed she’d buried in his casket over a year ago. The need to be close to someone else. “The Hunter got away.”
