said Jackson. “I knew they were a bunch of freaks, but that’s just twisted.”
“And it’s set to commence soon,” Dom reminded them. “We need to find these facilities—as in yesterday. Cordell, you said you couldn’t hack into their system. How do you know the labs are in those cities?”
“Those losers must’ve copied these reports from the main Darkblood site that we can’t break into.” Cordell paged down to the next screen. “Phoenix, San Diego.” He craned his neck around and looked at Dom. “And Seattle. They’ve got one clear up here.”
Panic knotted his gut as an overwhelming sense of protectiveness came over him. Mackenzie. Dios mio. He took a half-step backwards and grabbed the edge of a table. A piece of it crumbled under his fingers.
She wasn’t on their database up here, though, he told himself. They didn’t know about her—the information he’d downloaded to his phone proved that. But then what about last night? Those DBs sure as hell knew about her. Could they have run across her by chance?
Cordell’s fingers flew across the keys. “I can’t find exact locations for any of the facilities.”
“Send out an alert to all the regions letting them know about Lily’s new information and what you’ve discovered. Maybe someone’s turned up something that can help us locate the sites.” Dom twisted his thumb rings as he paced.
“Look,” Lily said, pointing to the screen. “There’s a spreadsheet of names of the family lines they’re seeking. Can you pull up that document?”
“Sure.” Cordell clicked open the file. They all leaned over his chair as a detailed chart popped up on the screen.
“Holy shit,” Lily said. “Looks like they’ve captured a few of them already.”
Dom cursed under his breath and began pacing again, unable to get it out of his head that Mackenzie was on the island and not under his immediate protection.
“We’ve got to change our focus from tracking DBs to locating this facility,” Jackson said. “If we find that, we hamstring their whole operation.”
“I agree,” Dom said. They needed manpower for a widespread search, but with Stryker still not a hundred percent, they were seriously short-staffed. “Cordell, contact Portland and Vancouver. See if they can spare any Guardians. Lily, we’ll need a few more Class-A scent-trackers. Can you—”
“I’m on it,” she said.
Good. They’d mobilize as many—
“Um, Dom?”
He stopped pacing and turned around. Lily was pointing to the screen. “What’s Mackenzie’s last name?”
His blood turned icy in his veins. “Foster-Shaw.”
“According to this spreadsheet, those guys who were after her were looking for a Mackenzie Shaw.”
The vise around his internal organs tightened further. They didn’t just happen upon her last night? They’ve been looking for her? “But the database I downloaded onto my phone showed no Fosters or Shaws.”
“Dunno, love. That was a couple weeks ago. The name’s there now,” Lily said.
“Lemme see,” Cordell said. “Maybe it’s not the same person.”
“Yeah, what are the chances of that?” Jackson said.
The tech lab felt eerily quiet except for the clicking of the keyboard. While Dom paced, the seconds slipped by as if they were large grains of sand in a too-small hourglass.
Finally Cordell spoke. “Does she have something to do with the University of Washington? Wait. Is this her website?”
Dom snapped his head around to see an artist’s website pop up on the screen and Mackenzie’s picture smiling back at him.
The sudden roar in his ears numbed his whole body and he stumbled backwards. They know about her. Darkbloods know about Mackenzie. What in hell was he thinking leaving her on the island? How could she possibly be safe without him?
“Jackson, Lily, I want you each to lead a search unit,” he yelled as he ran for the door. “Cordell, you coordinate things from here. Put together a list of the most probable places for them to locate such a facility. I’ll contact Santiago. Have him send as many Guardians as the other field teams can spare, using Daytrans vehicles if necessary. We’ll have a tactical at 2:00 p.m. tomorrow and be ready to hit the streets by nightfall.”
He glanced at his watch. He could make it to the resort by late afternoon. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DOM KNEW THAT to anyone watching, he must look like a drunk as he ran down the oyster-shell path to the cabin—his knees buckling every few steps, his arms stretched out for balance. It was midafternoon when he’d pulled into the resort a few minutes ago. Even with the tinted windows of the Porsche, dark sunglasses, a