To illuminate two duffel bags. That was it. Nothing but two black nylon duffel bags.

Assail puffed his cigar. “Goddamn it—where is she?”

“Where is who?” the man asked. “Who are you—”

On a surge of pure hatred, his anger leaped ahead of his mind, taking over, taking control.

Pop! number two was the sound of a bullet leaving Assail’s gun and blasting right through the guy’s frontal lobe. And the impact sent a spackle of blood all over those nylon carry-ons, and the car, and the driveway.

“Jesus Christ!” the other guy barked. “What the—”

Rage, undiluted by any semblance of rational thinking, made Assail roar some horrible, ugly sound—as his trigger jumped the gun again. So to speak.

Pop! number three dropped the driver, the bullet entering right between his eyebrows, the body falling backward in a narcoleptic free fall.

As loose arms and legs flopped on the snow, Ehric’s dry voice drifted over. “You realize we could have questioned them.”

Assail bit into his cigar, taking a long puff just so he didn’t do something to his own bloodline that he’d regret. “Take the bags and hide them where can we find them on the property—”

Down at the base of the drive, a car turned off the main road and came forward at a tear. “Finally,” Assail bitched. “One would expect a faster response.”

Brakes were hit at the house—at least until whoever was behind the wheel saw Assail and the sedan and the cousins. Then tires grabbed at the snow pack as the gas was hit once again.

“Take the duffels,” he hissed to the twins. “Go.”

Spotlit by the headlights, Assail lowered his gun down to his thigh so that it became lost in the folds of his three-quarter leather coat—and he ordered his arm to stay there. Much as it infuriated him further, Ehric was right. He’d just murdered two mouthpieces.

Further evidence that he was out of his mind in all this. And he could not make that uncharacteristic mistake again.

As the sedan slid to a halt, three men got out, and indeed, they had come prepared. Multiple muzzles pointed in his direction, and they were steady: These boys had done this before, and in fact, he recognized two of them.

The bodyguard in front actually lowered his autoloader. “Assail?”

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“What?”

In truth, he was getting so bored with these frowns of confusion.

Assail’s trigger finger started twitching again. “Your boss has something I want back.”

The enforcer’s sharp eyes shifted to the first sedan with its open trunk—and given the immediate brow pop, it appeared he noticed the soles of his predecessors’ shoes upon the asphalt.

“Neither of them could give me an answer,” Assail drawled. “Perhaps you should like to give it a try?”

Instantly, that gun was back up into position. “What the fuck are you—”

From out of thin air, the twins made an appearance and flanked the trio—and they had far more firepower, what with all four of their palms locked on a quartet of Smith & Wessons.

Assail kept his gun where it was, out of the action temporarily. “I would suggest you drop your weapons. If you do not, they will kill you.”

There was a heartbeat of a pause—which proved too long for Assail’s liking.

In the blink of an eye, his arm shot up and pop! He shot the closest guard, putting a bullet through his ear at a trajectory that left the remaining two men still standing.

As yet another dead weight fell to the ground, he thought, See? There was still plenty of living and breathing left to work with.

Assail lowered his arm and released another plume of smoke that drifted into the headlights, tinting the illumination blue. Addressing the pair who remained vertical, he said levelly, “I shall ask you again. Where is she.”

Rather a lot of talk sprang up, but none of it included the words woman, held, or captive.

“You’re boring me,” he said, lifting his muzzle once more. “I’d suggest one of the two of you start getting to the point now.”

“Is he alive?”

Beth heard the words come out of her mouth, but was only half aware of having spoken them. It was just too terrifying when a guy as strong as John Matthew went over like that—and worse? He’d surfaced for a minute and a half, tried to communicate something to her, and passed out cold again.

“Good,” Doc Jane said as she pressed a stethoscope to his heart. “Okay, I need my blood pressure—”

Blay pressed the floppy cuff into the doctor’s hands and the woman worked fast, wrapping it around John’s bulging biceps and puffing up its inner tube. There was a long hiss that was too loud, and Beth leaned back against her hellren as they waited for the results.

It seemed to take forever. Meanwhile, Xhex was cradling John’s head in her lap—and God, that was a hard spot: Someone you love down and out, no clue what was going to happen next.

“A little on the low side,” Jane muttered as she ripped the Velcro free of itself. “But nothing catastrophic—”

John’s eyes began to open, the lids flipping up and down.

“John?” Xhex said roughly. “Are you coming back to me?”

Apparently he was. He turned to his mate’s voice and lifted a shaking hand, clasping her palm and staring into her eyes. Some kind of energy exchange seemed to take place, and a moment later, John sat up. Stood up. Was only a little on the wobbly side as the pair embraced and stood soul to soul for a long while.

When her brother finally turned to her, Beth broke free of Wrath and hugged the younger male fiercely. “I’m so sorry.”

John pulled back and signed, What for?

“I don’t know. I just don’t want— I don’t know.”

As she threw her hands up, he shook his head. You didn’t do anything wrong. Beth—seriously. I’m okay and it’s cool.

Meeting his blue eyes, she searched them as if the answer to what had happened and what he’d been saying could be read there. “What were you trying to tell me?” she whispered aloud.

The instant she heard what she’d said, she cursed. Now was hardly the time. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask that—”

Was I saying something? he signed.

“Let’s give him some space,” Wrath said. “Xhex, you wanna take your man to your room.”

“Amen to that.” The broad-shouldered female stepped in, hooking a hold around John’s waist and marching him off down the hall of statues.

Doc Jane put her equipment back in her little black bag. “It’s time to find out what’s causing those.”

Wrath cursed softly. “Does he have medical clearance to fight?”

She got to her feet, her smart eyes narrowing. “He’s going to hate me, but no. I want to do an MRI on him first. Unfortunately, for that, we’re going to have to make some arrangements.”

“How can I help?” Beth asked.

“I’ll go talk to Manny now. Havers doesn’t have that kind of equipment and neither do we.” Doc Jane dragged a hand through her short blond hair. “I have no clue how we’re going to get him into St. Francis, but that’s where we need to go.”

“What do you think could be wrong?” Beth interjected.

“No offense, but you don’t want to know. Right now, let me start pulling strings and—”

“I’m going to go with him.” Beth stared so hard at V’s shellan, it was a wonder she didn’t burn a hole in the woman’s head. “If he has to get that test done, I’m going with.”

“Fine, but we’ll keep the team to an absolute minimum. This is going to be hard enough to pull off without taking an army with us.”

Vishous’s mate turned away and jogged down the stairs, and as she went, she gradually lost her form, her body’s weight and presence dissipating until she was a ghostly apparition floating down the carpet.

Spook or solid, it didn’t matter, Beth thought. She’d rather be treated by that woman than anyone else on the planet.