Page 87

Jackson grinned. “That’s my girl.”

The radio clipped to his vest crackled quietly. “Status check.”

He held his breath. No reply. No follow up.

“That’s our cue, Jack. Time to go.”

Jackson pulled back the covers and paused in shock. She was skin and bones, dressed in nothing but a slip, her movements feeble as a newborn kitten. “Garrett, grab that blanket over there. Help me get her wrapped up.”

“Jack—”

“Just do it!”

Garrett cursed under his breath, but complied. Together, they bundled her emaciated body into Jackson’s arms, her head lolling against his shoulder. Gun muzzle leading the way, Garrett carefully opened the door…and stopped.

“Well, if it isn’t the special one,” he drawled and let the door swing wide.

Monica stood in the hall, hands clasped. “You can’t take her. Don’t you understand? She’ll die if you take her away.” Heedless of the silencer pointed at her sternum, she stepped toward them. “Please don’t do this. If you care for her at all, let this process conclude. There is no other hope for her.”

Jackson hated himself for the renewed doubt bubbling in his belly. Cassidy, a boneless weight in his arms, gave no sign she even heard the conversation. He tightened his hold on her.

“Why don’t you explain it to us some more?” Garrett gestured “come in” with the Glock.

Monica, dressed in a fluttering white tunic over a pair of blue jeans, advanced, her anxious eyes locked to Garrett’s. “The process can’t be reversed now. She should have received the blood last night, but she wanted to witness one more sunrise.”

“Stop right there,” Garrett warned.

She didn’t seem to hear him. “I pray that won’t cost Cassidy her life. I pray she survives to sunset.”

“She’ll be fine if we get her out of here now,” Jackson said to convince himself more than anyone else.

“No! You’re killing her.” Tears now. Wild gesticulation. The tip of the silencer almost touched her sternum.

“We don’t have time for this.” In one fluid motion, Garrett holstered the Glock, grabbed Monica’s wrist, pulled her around against himself and clamped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t protest, though Jackson realized a moment too late that her quiet had nothing to do with surprise and everything with intention.

Her free hand flashed beneath the drapes of her shirt. Then the unmistakable electric snapping of a stun gun filled the air before it went silent against its target.

Teeth clenching, eyes bugging, hands flailing, Garrett jerked from head to foot in a violent, uncoordinated dance. Finally, he crashed to the floor, curled into a fetal position, and lay still.

“What the fuck,” Jackson said before he could stop himself.

Monica retrieved Garrett’s firearm and tossed it aside. Then she studied her handiwork. Gone was the desperate woman of moments ago. A fire-haired warrior savoring victory stood in her place. “What a pity that fancy vest of yours doesn’t cover those tender bits.”

Jackson’s mind reeled. Just like that, he was on his own and up to his eyeballs in alligators. Again. He spun on a heel to put Cassidy back on the bed, but by the time he reached for his gun, it was already pointing at his forehead.

“No sudden moves,” said the man holding it, one of the two he had just seen eating downstairs.

Jackson slowly raised his hands and tried to think. He’d have to lull them, bide his time until he saw an opportunity to act. Until Garrett got over his fried balls. He glanced at his uncle and ground his back teeth in frustration. The second male guard was there, too. He had pocketed the Glock, retrieved a pair of FlexiCuffs, and reached for Garrett’s wrists. When Garrett tried to struggle, Monica stuck him with the stun gun again, this time in the neck. He collapsed, moaning, perhaps unconscious, judging by how limp his arms were as they were secured behind his back.

Jackson bit back a blue curse. How the fuck was he going to overpower one cunning chick, two trained guards, and two loaded guns all by himself?

Without getting anyone he cared about killed?

Before sunset?

“Don’t blame yourself,” Monica said, advancing on him. “I’ve had my master’s blood. I heard the two of you breathing like bears shambling past the kitchen.” She cocked her head at him, her smile as empty as her eyes. “And since you’re so obsessed with helping Cassidy, I think I know just what to do with you.”

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