“Help me? I don’t need your help, Cove.” Marrow circled behind the chair, out of sight. The sound of snapping twigs and fallen leaves under his attacker’s feet faded. Strong hands dug into Dylan’s shoulders, arching his back away from the chair. “No. You see, I’m grateful for what happened in Delaware. If Howe hadn’t tried to make me a victim, I never would’ve become the predator. I’m not the man you knew, Cove. I’m stronger, smarter, and for the first time in my life, I have answers to why I was chosen. He gave me purpose, you see, a reason to keep going. Soon, you’ll learn you can only rely on yourself. It took me a bit longer while I was under the knife, close to three hundred cuts, before I realized no one was coming to save me.” Marrow whispered in Dylan’s ear. “I’m interested to hear when that happens for you.”
The seventh cut sliced alongside the top of Dylan’s spine, and another scream escaped. Pain hit his brain in endless waves. He jerked against the ropes as hard as he could, and the shift in weight lifted two chair legs out of the mud. He tipped to his right and hit the ground hard, his head snapping back. Air rushed from his lungs. Sweat beaded along his forehead and slid into his hairline. No. This wasn’t how he was going to die. “You killed Del Howe to show you were better than him?”
“The New Castle Killer was weak.” Rounding in front of him, Marrow crouched, the blade between his hands. “The day I escaped that van, I’d somehow lived through another day of bloodletting. I couldn’t swallow, couldn’t even seem to blink. While Howe was cleaning the blood off the floor, I managed to get one hand free from the rope. He had his back to me, convinced I wasn’t a threat. He never heard me untie the other ropes, never saw me coming. I grabbed this knife—” Marrow set the tip of the blade against his finger and seesawed the handle side to side “—and I thrust it into his back. I could tell he was just waiting for me to finish the job, but at the time, all I could think about was escape. Even at my lowest, I was stronger than he was, and I showed him that. Although, I can’t deny how good it felt to make him suffer as I had, to hear him scream.”
“You used Sergeant Nguyen’s identity and police resources to track Del Howe.” The pieces were starting to fall into place. “You registered for law enforcement conferences in his name so you could hunt and kill anyone involved in the original case in those cities. But what about Annabell Ross? She didn’t have anything to do with the New Castle Killer case. She was a hiker who loved the outdoors. You used her for her knowledge of nearby caves, and as an alibi that day at the scene, then strangled her when you didn’t need her anymore.” Dylan worked his hand back and forth, back and forth, to gain some slack in the rope. “She was innocent.”
“Every master needs a set of tools to complete his work, Cove.” Marrow tipped the blade straight up in the air between them. “You should know that better than anyone considering you used Remington Barton and her position with the marshals for your own investigation.”
“We’re nothing alike.” Rage coiled hot and fast in Dylan’s gut. He stretched his right hand away from the chair to feel the earth around him. He had to find something—anything—strong enough to cut through the ropes or to be used as a weapon.
Marrow had ambushed him in Annabell Ross’s house. He wouldn’t let the perp get the upper hand again. Not when he was the only one standing between Remi and the SOB in front of him. The tip of his middle finger hit the edge of something rough and solid. A rock. He pushed back the pain in his shoulders as he contracted the muscles in his spine and stretched even farther. The stitches in his side screamed as he pressed the raw edge of rock into his palms.
“I can see why the sheriff likes you. I bet that aggressive streak you show off is what drew her in back in Delaware. But it wasn’t enough, was it?” Marrow’s low, menacing laugh cut through him. “She figured out who you really are, and now you’re more like me than you think. Unbalanced, defective. Alone. Don’t worry, once I’m finished, she won’t live long enough to hold it against you.”
“Go to hell.” Dylan used the rock to cut through the rope around his wrists. Straightening his legs, he slid the cables at his ankles over the ends of the chair. He shot forward, colliding with his attacker, and wrapped his grip around the blade’s handle before Marrow could take his next breath. They hit the ground as one and struggled for control of the weapon.
Only, Dylan wasn’t fast enough. The knife pierced through skin and muscle and collided into bone. Voices echoed from the trees, and Marrow placed a strong hand over his mouth, stifling his call for help.
“Looks like we have company, Cove.” Marrow withdrew the blade from Dylan’s gut, straightened and wiped the steel on his pant leg. He stepped over his prey, but Dylan couldn’t force his hands to reach out to stop him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the perfect host.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Fan out. Foster, you’re with me. Reed and Watson, head north.” Remi faced the tree line, weapon in hand, and hit the power button on her tactical flashlight. Four beams pooled on the ground as the remaining three members of her team split off from her side and disappeared into the shadows. Dylan was out here. Alone, in pain. His scream echoed through her head as she headed into the woods. Her heels sank into the damp grass as she crossed Annabell Ross’s backyard. She pinched the push-to-talk button on the radio strapped to her Kevlar, the atmospheric scent of rain thick in the air. “Comms check.”
“Watson.” The deputy’s light gave away his position off to her right and a few meters ahead. “Nothing yet.”
“I’ve got something that looks like drag marks here. Approximately twenty meters north of your position, Chief.” Static interrupted the constant pattering of rain against her shoulders as the signal broke up. “This is Reed, by the way.”
“Damn it, Reed, we know it’s you.” Deputy Beckett Foster’s outline slowed to her left. Of the five members of the team, she trusted his experience hunting fugitives over her own instincts to race through the woods, blind and half cocked, until she found Cove. “Watson, you and Reed follow those tracks. Could be our guy or an animal.”
“Report back if your situation changes.” Hair clung to her face as Remi craned her mouth toward the radio. “Our suspect has now killed twenty-seven people we know of, guys. Stay alert. Watch each other’s backs. Cove is one of ours. I want to keep it that way.”
She wanted to keep him for herself.
“We’ll bring him home, Chief,” Watson said.
Remi forced one foot in front of the other, mud suctioning her boots into the earth. Visibility dropped the farther they left Annabell’s home behind. Their suspect preferred to work in the dark. At some point over the past few years, he’d become part of it, but she wouldn’t lose Dylan to the shadows. The muscles around her stab wound ached the longer she held her weapon shoulder-height, but she wasn’t going to be caught by surprise this time. “Where are you, Dylan?”
“Chief, you’re...want...this.” Reed. Damn it. Their signal was losing strength. “Chief...hear...me?”
Her skin chilled as she scoured the trees ahead for a sign of Reed’s and Watson’s flashlights, but pitch blackness had consumed their position. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught sight of Foster a few yards to her left. She pinched the radio in her grip. “Reed, say again.”
“Signal’s weak,” Foster said. “A few more meters and the radios are going to be useless. We have to keep going. Maybe the closer we get to their position, the better we’ll be able to stay in contact.”
“Chief!” A gunshot exploded from nearby, drowning Watson’s voice over the radio, and every cell in Remi’s body caught fire.
She darted in the direction she’d last seen Reed and Watson, her heart in her throat. Foster followed close on her heels. Branches reached out and caught the skin along her neck and face, and tangled with her hair, but she wouldn’t stop. Not until she knew every member of her team was alive. Sweat built between her palm and her weapon, and she tighten
ed her grip. Mud, fallen branches and patches of leaves fought to trip her up. Slowing, she glanced back to calculate how far she’d run. She battled to steady her breathing. Running a hand through her hair to get it out of her face, Remi spun. No sign of Reed or Watson. No other flashlights. No movement. “They were right here.”
“Chief.” Foster kicked through a pile of foliage. A beam of light spread across the dirt and highlighted the marshal’s black boots. It arched up the base of a large pine beside him, reflecting off something embedded in the bark.
“One flashlight. Where is the second?” She bent to examine the metal stuck in the tree. She secured her weapon and pulled her pocketknife from her ankle holster. She pried the metal loose, and it fell into her palm. “It’s a slug. 9mm.”
“One of ours.” Foster studied the surrounding trees. “Reed or Watson got a shot off, but not before they were taken out. He’s out here, picking us off one by one.”
“He’s comfortable in the dark. He uses it against his victims and feeds off their terror of being alone. I wouldn’t be surprised if he scouted the area before tonight to memorize the landscape.” She cut off the shiver working up her spine as memories from the caves escaped the box at the back of her mind. They’d faced killers as a team. Amateurs, apprentices, veteran serial killers. None of them compared to the monster hunting them now. Remi pocketed the expended slug and holstered her knife. Drawing her sidearm, she hit the power for her flashlight.
They couldn’t win this. Not directly. To catch a killer, she had to start thinking like one. She had to use the predator’s strengths against him. “Turn off your light. Rely on your hearing, and keep your movements to a minimum. Our priority is recovering our team, but if you find the suspect at the end of your weapon, you sure as hell better take him down. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Foster killed his flashlight, his outline blending into the shadows closing in around them.
“Good.” They moved as one, slowly at first, as their vision adjusted to the lack of light. Buzzing insects quieted the deeper they treaded through the woods. Her own shallow breaths filled her ears, but she felt more than saw Foster to her left. An owl made its presence known somewhere overhead as low bushes and leaves swayed with the wind. The rain had stopped, but puddles of water still sloshed under her boots.
“I know you’re out here, Sheriff,” a deep, overly familiar voice said. “I’ve already taken care of three members of your team. You wouldn’t leave them to die as you left me to face Del Howe alone, would you?”
Remi stopped. Reed, Watson, Cove. The killer hadn’t only come for her and Dylan, he’d attacked her team. Holding her breath, she searched the trees for the source of the voice, for something to give away the killer’s position. Movement registered to her left, and she realized Foster was working his way toward the voice. With any luck, they could cut the killer off before he even realized what was happening. No. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“You weren’t able to protect the officers involved in the New Castle Killer case, Sheriff.” The voice had somehow changed position without warning, just as it had in the lava tubes. “What makes you think you could protect anyone else?”
He was right. How could she protect her team when she didn’t know who the hell she was protecting them from?
A struggle reached her ears from where Foster had been standing a few seconds before, and Remi raised her weapon. She clicked on her flashlight and scanned a few feet out, giving away her position. He’d vanished. Leaves bounced as though they’d been disturbed, but he wasn’t there. “Foster!”
No answer.
Damn it. Her weapon shook with the tremors working through her hands. Was he still alive? Were the others? She killed the light and ducked behind the cover of a large bush to her right. Crouching, she aimed her weapon down between her knees and settled back against a tree large enough to conceal her size. She pressed the crown of her head into the bark, focusing on the sting of pain instead of the doubt clawing up her throat. She’d spent her entire life fighting to survive. First, after losing her family and growing up on the streets of her hometown. Second, to prove her gender had nothing to do with her ability to run a USMS division. But this...this was different. This was her team, the men she’d come to trust, to care about. The men who believed in her.
“It’s just you and me, Remington. Cove is bleeding out where I left him, and the rest of your team is out of the equation.” A twig snapped a few feet in front of her before a large, muscular outline materialized. He kept moving diagonally away from her, unaware his prey was so close. “You and I both know one of us is going down. Time to end this, don’t you think?”
Cove. Rage burned under her skin, growing hotter and more out of control. The muscles in her jaw ached as she clamped her back teeth and balanced her weight into her heels. Straightening, she stepped into the open. The killer had made a mistake this time. He’d gone after the only man who’d made her feel as though she was enough, who’d broken past her emotional defenses and released a stronger part of herself she’d never known existed.
Keeping her steps light, Remi closed the distance between her and the killer who’d nearly murdered everyone involved in the New Castle Killer case. Only this time, she was ready. They’d met him on his own turf, but she’d make damn sure she and her team were the ones who walked away. He didn’t think she was a threat. She’d prove him wrong. “You know, for once I agree with you.”
The killer spun around, and she swung her weapon as hard as she could. The butt of her gun slammed into his head, and he collapsed at her feet.
“It is time to end this.” She took aim.
Recovering faster than she thought possible, her abductor wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her hard toward the ground. Standing, he twisted her elbow until pain ignited through her nervous system. He forced her to drop her weapon. “But are you going to save your team or save yourself?”
* * *
DYLAN SLAMMED HIS fist into the ground, using every last ounce of strength to pull himself up out of the dirt.
Remi had come for him. Her voice hadn’t been a hallucination, but she wasn’t alone. Reed, Foster, Watson. They were out here, too. They were all in danger. A pain-filled growl escaped his chest as he pressed himself into a sitting position. He had to get up. He had to get to her before Tad Marrow did.
Blood slicked the inside of his arms and waistband. A thud broke through the constant buzz of crickets and other wildlife he couldn’t see. Dylan put everything he had left into getting to his feet, his left leg dragging slightly behind. He secured a hand over the shallow stab wound in his side. Agony tore the air from his lungs, and he stumbled forward. He doubled over, reaching for the nearest tree for balance. He was bleeding, but he wasn’t going to let Marrow take Remi from him. He’d already lost her when she’d discovered his motives for joining USMS. He wasn’t going to fail her again.
The echo of punches landing filled his ears, and he forced himself to slow his pulse to listen to the source. There, to the left, about twenty feet. His senses had adjusted, only a few streaks of moonlight highlighting Remi’s smaller build. Adrenaline dumped into his veins. Dylan picked up the pace, the pain disappearing to the back of his mind, as he charged through the underbrush toward her. “Remi!”
He collided with the killer dragging Remi closer. Trees, shadows, the ground—it all became one in his vision as he hit the dirt. They rolled, each fighting for dominance, down an incline before slamming into the base of a tree. Scrambling to his feet, Dylan struck the bastard as hard as he could. A kick landed dead center below his sternum and knocked him off balance. He stumbled back as Remi moved in. Warning shot through him as Marrow elbowed her straight into the kidney, and while a sharp gasp reached Dylan’s ears, she didn’t let it slow her down.
She positioned her calf behind her attacker’s opposite leg and shoved him forward. Remi and Marrow flipped th
rough the air a split second before he rocketed his fist into her face. She collapsed to one side, and Dylan moved in.
Cocking his elbow back, he landed a solid hit to Marrow’s jaw, but in the next moment had his feet kicked straight out from under him. Clouds billowed above as heavier rain pitted the soil. Marrow stood over him, rage tightening his body language. Moonlight reflected off metal. “You failed me when I needed you the most, Cove. I’m going to save the next victim the trouble of trusting you.”
A frustrated scream was all the warning he heard as Remi clawed to her feet and ran straight for Marrow. She wrapped her grip around the SOB’s wrist, twisted under his front side and hauled him completely over her back.
Marrow slammed into the ground, a groan breaching the heavy pounding of Dylan’s heartbeat.
Remi removed another weapon she’d stashed at her low back, but Marrow swiped a blade across her midsection before she got off a shot. She maneuvered out of the way, and her weapon discharged, the bullet whizzing past Cove’s ear. Marrow raised his knife high above his head and brought it down, aiming for her heart.
Remi dropped the gun and caught his wrist mere centimeters from her chest, giving Dylan leverage while Marrow was distracted. He thrust his fist into the killer’s gut. Marrow hauled his heel into Remi’s stomach, and she fell back.
Turning to Dylan, Marrow circled left. Dylan brought up his arms to block the oncoming hit. Marrow jabbed from the right, bounded behind him and aimed the knife at Dylan’s neck. Strain built in the muscles along Dylan’s forearms and chest as the tip of the blade drew closer. Wedged between Marrow and an excruciating death, his entire body screamed for relief.
Harlequin Intrigue April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 34
