Page 72 of Clash of Sin and Secret

Fangs graze my neck and the animal inside me rages. “No fucking way.”

With the fury of my bear roaring out of me in a growl, I reach behind my head and grab the one sucking on my neck. I give him a wicked shake as I bring him around to my chest. A solid grip on his hair gives me the hold I need to rip his head off and I toss the bloody skull at the next one up.

“Tucker!” Scottie’s scream cuts through the chaos.

Daeva has Scottie’s wrist, yanking her away from me. The bitch twists and Scottie screams.

My mate’s cry of pain fuels my rage.

I throw my other attacker off, but Alec has a hold on Scottie now and is racing away. I move to follow, but Daeva intercepts. With her and two others coming at me, coordinating their attacks, I can’t get around them to get to Scottie.

Another roar tears from my chest as my bear unleashes its full fury.

A blow to my knee shatters my kneecap and sends me stumbling sideways. I fight to get back on my feet, pushing forward, but three sets of hands drag me back. My muscles strain as I fight their grip. One of them lands a hit that makes my vision blur.

“Let her go!” I roar, watching helplessly as Daeva’s charge carries Scottie into the shadows.

“Now, why would we do that?” Daeva’s laugh echoes through the trees. “We’ve gone to a lot of trouble because of her. No. Our master has something very special planned for Miss Scotland McCullough.”

I break free from one vampire, but the others slam me face-first into the ground. The grit of dirt and tang of blood fills my mouth. I push up, my arms shaking with the effort, but a boot between my shoulder blades forces me back down. “Give our regards to Zane.”

And with that, they’re gone.

With both palms braced against the ground, I get up, but it’s no use.

They’re gone…and they took Scottie with them.

Scottie

The car jerks around a corner, the tires squelching on the asphalt as my fanger captors make their hasty retreat. I’m wedged between two turned thugs and the velocity of the change in direction throws me to the side. Rough hands catch me, and I’m shoved back to sit upright once more.

“Tell me why we don’t just kill her?”

“Because those aren’t our orders,” Daeva replies.

My wrists ache from the plastic ties biting into my skin and from Daeva wrenching it back in the fight. The black canvas bag over my head isn’t much fun either. It’s suffocating and keeps me from getting my bearings.

Panic flickers in my chest, but I quash it down.

I hear Da’s voice in my head.‘Chaos has no place in a crisis.’

I know. Clear thinking is the key to working through any crisis. Da drilled that into me from the time I was old enough to understand the danger lurking in the shadows. Crisis management is practically second nature.

Not that it has always worked in my favor.

Dark images seep through the cracks of my memory—unwelcome flashes of the time in New York when everything spiraled out of control without Zane or my father to keep me grounded.

I twist my wrists, trying to loosen the bonds, but they bite harder. A sharp intake of breath barely escapes before I stifle it. This is not that. I’m not the same naïve girl I was then…straight out of a protected life.

It’s not fear dragging me under. It’s a gnawing sense of vulnerability creeping back in like a nasty cold front.

Daeva’s voice cuts through the darkness of my emotions, smooth and mocking, from the front seat. “We have her.”

What?This is a targeted kidnapping? I thought it was a crime of convenience, of Daeva plotting some twisted torturefor payback because I screwed up her plans to capture Zane the night of the attack.

“Understood, sire. We’ll be there in five minutes.”

Sire? She’s taking me to her maker?

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