“No.” Easing her hands from Rafe’s, Mara gained her feet. “I want to thank you for what you’ve done, all of you, but there’s only one man who can help me now.”

Vince and his sons exchanged knowing looks.

“Blackwood,” Rane said quietly.

“Yes. He’s the oldest of our . . . of your . . . kind. If anyone can find my son, he can.”

She was grateful that no one tried to talk her out of it. She couldn’t just sit here and wait. She had to feel that she was doing something to help.

“I’ll take you,” Rane said.

She smiled, grateful for his offer. Today’s airplanes were fast, but vampire transportation was faster, and safer.

She just hoped that, after the way she had treated Logan, he wouldn’t slam the door in her face.

Chapter Thirty-four

Shivering uncontrollably, Kyle Bowden paced the narrow confines of his cage. The cement floor was bitterly cold beneath his bare feet. There was no chair, no bed in his prison, nothing but a rough wool blanket for a bed, and a covered chamber pot in one corner. Six steps carried him from one end of his gloomy cell to the other.

A glance at his watch told him it was a little after seven, but he didn’t know if it was morning or evening, didn’t know where in the hell he was, or how he had gotten there. But his biggest concern was his son’s whereabouts. He didn’t know if Derek was dead or alive.

Damn. The last thing he remembered before waking up here, wherever the hell here was, was sitting in the nursery, giving the baby a bottle. Had that been hours ago, or days? He had no way of knowing, hadn’t seen anyone since he’d regained consciousness.

Knowing it was useless, he wrapped his hands around the steel bars and gave a hard yank. Nothing happened. The bars, set in concrete, were thick and solid. His hands tightened on the bars as he gazed at his surroundings. It didn’t take long; there wasn’t much to see. The room was a twelve by twelve foot square. The walls and floor were cement; there were no windows, and no furnishings save for a battered desk, a brown leather chair, and a small lamp that held the dark at bay. His gaze lingered on what looked like a doctor’s bag on a stainless-steel table. Visions of illegal experiments flashed through his mind.

Sliding down into a sitting position with his back against the wall, he cradled his head in his hands. “Think, Bowden.” How long had he been there? He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. It was scratchy with stubble. His stomach growled, reminding him that lunch had been his last meal. So, as near as he could figure, it was morning. Mara must be frantic with worry by now. He would have demanded to know where he was, where his son was, if there had been anyone to ask. Not that he was in any position to make demands.

He muttered an oath as a horrible thought insinuated itself into his mind. What if this was all Mara’s doing? He wasn’t blind. He knew she wasn’t happy living with him, that she regretted their marriage. Had she arranged for . . .

No! He slammed his fist against the floor. He wouldn’t believe she had planned this. But what if she had? What if she had arranged for someone to dispose of him, permanently?

Damn. The thought made him break out in a cold sweat, but once acknowledged, it burrowed deeper into his mind. Getting rid of one human male was probably no big deal to a woman who had once been a vampire. In her time, she had undoubtedly dispatched any number of lovers once she tired of them. Poor lovesick fool. He was probably just one more in a long line of men she had used and discarded.

Chapter Thirty-five

Logan swore softly as a knock on the front door roused him from a deep, dreamless sleep. His internal clock told him it was late afternoon. Rolling onto his side, he pulled a pillow over his head and closed his eyes. Whoever the hell was pounding on his door could just come back later.

He bolted upright as Mara’s scent reached his nostrils. What the devil was she doing here? For a moment, one fleetingly foolish moment, he thought of ignoring her. And then he threw the covers aside and hurried down the stairs.

Heedless of the fact that he was stark naked, he opened the door.

He took one look at her face, drew her into the house, and closed the door. “Here, now,” he said, “it can’t be as bad as all that.”

“It’s worse.”

He didn’t ask questions, just wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

The touch of his hand in her hair unleashed the flood of tears she had been holding back and she collapsed against him, sobbing.

Swinging her into his arms, Logan carried her into the living room. Still cradling her against his chest, he sat down on the sofa. “All right,” he said quietly, “tell me all about it.”

“It’s Derek . . . he’s . . . he’s gone. Kyle took him.”

“Took him? You mean he’s kidnapped him?”

“Yes, and we can’t find either one of them.” She sniffed noisily. “Rane and Rafe and Vince looked everywhere. They couldn’t . . . couldn’t find any trace of him or . . . or the baby.”

“What do you mean, they couldn’t find any trace of them?”

“No tracks, no scent. Nothing.” She took a deep breath. “They searched the house, the yard, everywhere, but there was no trail to follow. It’s like Kyle and the baby just disappeared into thin air.”

“I’ve never heard of a mortal being able to disappear into thin air, or into anything else, for that matter,” Logan said dryly.

“I know, but he did it. And he took Derek.” A fresh spate of tears flooded her eyes and dripped down her cheeks. “Logan, where can he be?”

“I don’t know.” Unable to help himself, he brushed a kiss across her brow. “Do you remember during the War? Some of the vampires were able to mask their scent, not only from the werewolves, but from other vampires, as well.”

“I remember,” Mara said, wiping away her tears with her fingertips, “but no one ever figured out how they did it.”

“Yeah.”

She sniffed again. “You know you’re naked, right?”

“Yes, ma’am, but it was nice of you to notice.”

How could she help it when he stood there, all his masculine glory on display?

He grinned impudently.

“Will you help me find Derek? I won’t blame you if you refuse, but, please, Logan, I’m so worried about him. As far as I can tell, Kyle didn’t take anything for the baby with him—no diapers, no bottles, no warm clothes, nothing.”




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