Page 10 of Utterly Dauntless

"So we'll assume she's been taken."

"Aye."

"Any idea who, besides you, would do such a thing?"

"Not the first idea."

"Right then. We're looking for a poor bastard in a blue van?—"

"Poor bastard?"

"Aye. He'll need all the pity he can get after takin' a woman who belongs to The 79."

"Pity him later. Find him first, would ye?"

"We'll find him, Grey. And we'll try to save a few pieces of him for you, if ye like. And dinnae fear. She'll be all right."

Grey nodded, though the man couldn't see it. Then he thanked him, even though Kitchens was lying to keep him from worry. They didn't know the threat or the motivation behind the move, so how could they know Aries was even alive?

Well, other than the fact thathewould know, in his soul, if it were time to lie down and die...

CHAPTER EIGHT

Watching the lengths of Loch Lochy and Loch Oich pass by her window left Aries with a stiff neck, but she welcomed the sting that distracted her from the zip ties cutting into her wrists. The morning sun cast long shadows across the road ahead, and she found herself searching each passing vehicle for a familiar face. She dearly hoped Grey was looking for her by now.

She'd been foolish yesterday not to change cars in Oban as she normally would have. But as her captor hauled her out of her rental, forcing her to leave Gran's teacup behind, she realized her mistake might have been inspired. One of The 79 had surely been watching her grandmother's house, so they would know what she'd been driving. Eventually, they might be able to trace the plates and learn that she'd abandoned the car, maybe against her will.

It was a long shot, but any hope was good hope. And no man was as tenacious as her dragon, Grey Strachan.

She couldn't ignore what else that mistake had meant.

Dear Lord, had she wanted him to catch her this time?

Surely not.

Surely...

She clung to that little bit of faith in Grey to keep from completely losing it. She still didn't know who this man was, though she studied him from the corner of her eye whenever she dared. He had to be a Scot. No man from another country would have driven all the way to the Highlands in his work clothes. The coveralls he wore were smeared with oil and grease. Maybe he worked on an oil rig. Maybe a mechanic. Did she know any roughnecks?

His dull brown hair hung past his collar, his beard scraggly and unkempt. The boots on his feet were coming apart at the seams. She tried not to flinch each time he glanced her way with that knowing sneer, but she couldn't quite control the tremors that rolled through her when he did.

Yeah, she was scared. But she sensed this guy would stay much calmer if she kept it together.

"Still don't reckon who I am, eh?" His voice was rougher this morning.

She shook her head.

"Well, ye will soon enough."

She pointed her chin at the road stretching north. "Headed back to Inverness?"

He scowled.

"I saw you behind me yesterday morning. I'm just wondering why you didn't stop me sooner."

He looked away and she thought he wouldn't answer, but then he spoke. "Had to find my moment, didn't I?"

His discomfort finally made sense. It had taken him all day to build up the courage. And when she realized he wasn't as tough as he pretended to be, she relaxed a little.

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