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Logan nearly smiled. Of course his twin didn’t think they needed to thank each other for anything, but he still wanted to say it.Thank You, Lord.He headed back to the group, all the smokejumpers now standing together.

Vince said, “White van, no plates. Witnesses described the assailants as locals but wearing ski masks. That was one description, even if it makes no sense. The rest said they didn’t recognize the men, but they were lying or they didn’t want to be involved in it. People around here don’t wanna put themselves in the middle of a militia, so they’re staying out of it.”

Cadee looked at Vince.

Tori said, “What are you, a cop or something?” When Vince said nothing, she glanced around. “My sister is a private investigator. She wouldn’t get up here in time though. Right?” The younger blonde woman bit her lip, and JoJo shifted closer to her.

Orion set a hand on her shoulder. For the first time since the beginning of the season, it seemed like the smokejumpers were a team rather than a disparate group of friends and rivals.

“I just spoke to Bryce,” Logan said. “They’re going to pray. We’re going to find her.”

Vince clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go find this Weiss guy.Snatch.Sounds like the kind of man we can persuade to tell us where to find his friends.”

“Let’s go,” Logan said.

* * *

The door clicked shut. Jamie gritted her teeth and tugged against the rope they’d used to tie her to the chair. If she could just…

Her fingers grasped for a knot or something. The cloth they’d tied over her eyes slipped down her face, and she blinked, one eye still covered. Hair everywhere.

They’d dragged her off the street and tossed her in that van.

Everything after that was a wash of rolling around the vehicle. Scrambling back when she tumbled into someone, only to bump into another person. Listening to their laughter. Nothing funny about it.

Now she looked around.

A tiny room. Yellowed glass in the window. A cabin, maybe. There was a rusty vent on the floor. Scratches where furniture had been. Signs someone had called this home.

Once.

Now there was only Jamie and this uncomfortable wooden chair they’d secured her to. She gritted her teeth and fought, but the rope was too tight. It burned her wrists while the muscles in her arms strained, her shoulders stretched too far back.

She finished her scan of the room and saw…boots. Legs. A person—a man.

Jamie tipped forward on the chair and managed to turn it left a little so she could see—“Tristan!” She whispered his name as loudly as she could. Would these guys hear her and come running?

“Tristan, get up!”

He moaned, shifting first before he rolled over and she saw his face.

Jamie gasped. He’d been beaten, badly. Blood coated his lips. One eye was swollen almost shut. The other blinked at her. It took him a few seconds to focus. While he did, she used her shoulder to ease the blindfold the rest of the way down her face. It dropped to hang around her neck.

He moaned her name.

“I know. I’m here, and you’re here. But you need to wake up.” Otherwise, what hope did they have of getting out?

She wasn’t going to be leaving him behind.

Not again.

“Tristan, wake up.”

He rolled to his back, his chest rising and falling fast. “What’s the point?” His voice sounded thick. “They brought you here because I won’t talk.”

“Well, I don’t know anything!” It wasn’t like they could beat her for information if she had no clue who they were and what they were doing.

Apart from the tiny issue of her copying their files.