Dressed in clean jeans and a T-shirt and him similarly, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. It was a slow kiss that left her breathless and toes curled into the carpet.

A hard knock sounded from downstairs. And that’s when everything changed. Brayden jerked his head to the side, then sprinted from the room. She was slow to follow, didn’t understand what could make him rush. Then she heard shouts and she stopped at the doorway, her jaw dropping. Brayden’s shouts. Panic set in pumping her heart fast and hard. She ran to the top of the stairs and started down them on fast, light steps.

Men in black wearing swat suits were coming in. Brayden cursed at them, then slammed his fist into a helmet-covered head. The guards turned on him, rifle butts raised and pounded them on his skull. He roared and it took her a few seconds to realize he wasn’t just roaring, he was speaking...to her.

“Get out! Run, Vanessa!”

The guards all seemed to turn and see her at the same time. Two stayed and kept fighting back Brayden, but she watched his movements get weaker, his shouts softer and still two more guards rounded on the stairs coming up toward her with slow, cautious steps.

“Mrs. Harrington, we’re with the Justicar’s office. We’re here to take you home. Everything will be all right now; just come with us,” said the guard on the left. He held out his hand for her to take it and she turned and ran.

The guards cursed, then hard fast steps barreled up the stairs. She flew down the hallway slamming the bedroom door behind her. Her fingers shook as she turned the lock, but the soft sound of it clicking nearly made her sigh with relief. She took off to the bathroom, closing herself inside that one as well. She flipped the lock just as wood splintered from the bedroom. Hard pounding kicks beat at the door and she knew she didn’t have long. She hopped on top of the toilet and pulled at the lock of the window. It was tiny, but she could fit through; she’d make sure of it.

“Fucking move!” she screamed at the stupid thing. It wouldn’t budge. She adjusted her grip as her fingers turned red, the tips burning to move the stupid little switch. And then her heart started racing even harder. With a final bang, she knew they’d broken down the door. Hard steps ran into the room, then banging on the bathroom door began.

“Please come out, Mrs. Harrington. We’re here to help you.”

She pushed as hard as she could, and finally, the switch flipped. She wasted no time in pushing the little window up, but it too had a hard time moving, had probably never actually been opened. It moved up a few inches then stalled. She leaned down and pressed both hands under the window, could even feel the cool air blowing against her fingers, and pushed with everything she had. The window gave with a mighty squeak of metal. She squealed with joy, which was quickly cut short by the booming at the bathroom door. The entire frame shook. The glass of the hand soap and little perfume bottles on the sink shook and jingled with each slam.

The frame split, nearly coming off from the top. Vanessa didn’t waste any time. Brayden told her to run, so she was running. She got her head of the window, but her shoulders caught on it. Pain blazed through her muscles, but still she shimmied, until her legs were in the air and half of her torso was out the window. But she never made it any further. With a cry thick with emotion, hands curled around her feet then pulled her back in. Her chin bounced hard off the top of the toilet and something cracked in her mouth.

Blood spilled from her lips. She was turned and the men in swat clothes jerked her arms behind her back. A metal sound clicked and then she couldn’t move her arms.

“No, no, no, no!” she said with rising panic. She slammed her shoulder into the nearest guard, catching him off balance and sending him slamming back into the shower. Glass shattered and exploded around them.

She sprinted for the door, her feet catching on sharp shards but she never stopped. She had to escape. She had to get help. Strong arms banded around her chest. With her arms caught uselessly behind her, she couldn’t do anything. She stomped at the guard’s feet, jacked her body back and forth, and still his grip didn’t loosen.

“Dammit, give her the tranq,” panted the guard holding her.

She fought harder, crying out like a banshee, dropping to her knees and trying to slam the guard back off her with the momentum.

The guard in the shower lumbered to a stand, shaking his head as if disoriented. He reached into a pocket from his cargo pants then pulled out a little gun. It reminded her of a hot glue gun, except the cartridge in this one was a glass vial with clear liquid inside.

“Time to go night night.” He pressed the gun to her arm, then a spurt of compressed air whooshed. Warmth, then frigid coldness swamped her. Her vision darkened, then she slumped.

“Come on, man, why don’t you sit down. All that pacing is starting give me double vision.”

“Fuck off, Dmetri,” growled Brayden.

“He’s right, you know. Just try to relax. We’ll work something out,” a soft feminine voice said.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Christine.”

Dmetri stood, then gave a pointed look to Christine and she left the study quietly. Dmetri marched to stand before him. Brayden stopped moving, though every muscle in his body jerked with the need to do something.

“You will not talk to my mate that way, drook. Got it? I know you’re angry, but this isn’t her fault.”

Brayden wanted to rip his hair out one big chunk at a time. “I know that,” he said with as much patience as he could muster. “I’ll apologize later.”

“Good, be sure that you do.” Dmetri took his seat again and Brayden sighed a little now that he could finally continue his mad trek across the carpet. “I take it you didn’t learn anything today.”

Brayden sent him a scathing glare. “Of course, not. They refuse to divulge any information to me, even when I ordered it. Even when I threated to start breaking bones.”

Dmetri nodded. “The problem with threats, see, it’s like with kids—”

Brayden paused to give Dmetri a dubious glance. “What do you know of children?”

He shrugged. “Christine wants a bundle around the house. I’ve been looking into it. That’s not the point. The point is, you can make as many threats as you want, but if you never go through with the threat, then they don’t believe you and they’ll run all over you. Should have gone through with it.”

Brayden stopped at the window and looked up at the darkening sky. Early evening still. Dmetri had a point. Should have cracked bones, made them bleed, then they’d talk. Then they’d have to tell him where she is.

“Listen, did you try her father again?”

“Yes, he says he hasn’t heard a word. He just knows the Justicars have her and that Joseph hasn’t returned to the pack.”

“Do you think he ran off with her?”

Brayden squeezed his eyes shut. That same thought had run through his mind a million times. “I doubt it. I’ve searched the city every single night for any signs of her scent. I can’t find her anywhere. I’ve already hired private investigators just in case they managed to sneak her out.” Those humans had come highly recommended to him. He didn’t know if he was relieved they hadn’t found anything or incredibly frustrated.

“It’s been a few days and you’re still wired. Why don’t you take a break?” Dmetri said.

Brayden turned to him, his body vibrating with anger. “Could you, if someone’d taken Christine?”

That took the easy smile off Dmetri’s face fast. “That’s different. She’s my mate. I’d do anything for her.”

“And I’d do anything to get Vanessa back.”

Dmetri cocked his head to the side. Brayden didn’t like the look he was giving him, as if he’d just had an interesting realization. “What?” Brayden asked.