Page 126 of Hunted to Be Mine

“Since you’re together, I’m sending coordinates,” Blackout said. “I don’t need to explain what happens next.”

The line went dead.

Chapter 29

Specter

I killed the engine and tracked the perimeter of Vessy Pumping Station. Snow had stopped. Night turned the municipal facility alien. Red beacons pulsed through thin fog, bleeding halos in the dark.

“One way in, one way out,” I muttered, focus fixed on the rusted maintenance entrance. A perfect kill box.

“Blackout chose this place deliberately.” Selina kept her tone even, but her breath ticked higher beside me. Her cast caught the dash glow.

I brushed her uninjured hand. Her fingers closed around mine at once. “Stay in the car.”

“Not happening.” Her jaw set in that stubborn line I knew too well. “If Mattie’s hurt, she needs care now. And Blackout said both of us. No one else.”

Arguing would burn time. Fog thickened, visibility shrinking.

“Stay behind me. If I say run, you run. No arguments.”

A single nod. She tightened her coat around the injured arm.

We moved. I kept my body between her and the entrance. The maintenance door groaned open onto a concrete maze washed in dim emergency light. The sound of the outflow swelled.

Vapor curled off narrow channels, shaping ghosts in the red haze. Metal walkways crossed the churn, grating slick with frost. Every surface wept condensation; the cold put our breath on display.

“There’s nowhere to hide in here,” Selina said under her breath.

I took in the layout. “That’s the point. He wants us exposed.”

A cry rose in the distance, bouncing off concrete and steel. Mattie’s voice, warped by pain and space.

“That’s her.” Selina’s good hand clamped my arm.

I drew my gun. “Stay at my back. Put your feet where I put mine.”

The cry came again, sharper. I moved faster. The grating trembled with the current beneath us. One misstep and you fed the undertow.

“Wolfe, it’s a trap,” she said, breath warming my neck.

“I know.” I didn’t slow. “We’re not leaving her.”

Another cry pulled us deeper through bridges and platforms. The sound scattered, impossible to pin to a single direction. We were too far from our entry point, and it scraped at me.

We reached a central chamber where multiple channels met. The cries peaked here—then cut off, leaving only the roar below.

“Mattie?” Selina called. The facility almost swallowed her voice.

“The asset and the doctor. Right on schedule.”

Blackout’s voice came from the opposite span. He stepped out with a raised weapon. Behind him, the exit door stood shut.

He advanced along the narrow bridge, gun steady on my chest. Selina’s heat hovered at my back. Her breath shortened. Whitenoise rose from the outflow, a constant that would eat any struggle.

“Stop,” I said, keeping my aim level. “That’s far enough.”

He halted. Something was wrong. Posture perfect. Head tilt off. Birdlike.