Dusk (Dangerous Web #1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,25

was now.

Completely alone.

That wasn’t quite accurate.

I recognized my companion. It was one I’d known for most of my life. Its name varied, but most people called it fear—that sensation that surpassed the normal senses and burrowed under the skin. As a little girl, I felt it lurking in the shadowy corners, taking residence under my bed and chilling my skin as a warning.

Was that what it was doing now?

Was my companion warning me?

My skin prickled as I again turned completely around. There were no dark corners to keep it hidden. I crouched down, peering under the bunk bed, and lifted my chin upward, searching in the rafters near the burning light bulbs. I couldn’t see it, but that didn’t matter. It was here, a master at disguise.

No longer was I fearful of one of my mother’s johns, or an odd man on the L. Today there was nothing as obvious, yet it existed all around me, an invisible force capable of mass destruction. Its presence was in every fiber of my being. Even as the tears dried and my stomach calmed, fear remained.

Present time~

I couldn’t lie upon the thin, cot-like mattress. Before our dinner arrived, Araneae and I decided that I would sleep on the high one. It made sense for her not to climb. Truly her baby bump wasn’t big enough to be a hindrance; it was the principle of the thing. A pregnant woman didn’t need to climb.

Of course, I’d never made it up to the top bunk. We’d sat together on the lower bunk, our backs against the wall, finding comfort in one another’s company. My mind swirled with possibilities.

Maybe they discovered who she was, the founder of the Sparrow Institute, co-owner of Sinful Threads—a successful fashion company, and most significantly, the wife of Sterling Sparrow.

I tried to reassure myself that Araneae was safe and on her way back to Chicago or Mason’s ranch. If our kidnappers knew both of our identities, keeping just one of us would be enough. Reid and I were more than financially secure. He would pay generously for my return. He wasn’t the only one. I had no doubt that Sparrow would pay too.

There was a time when he didn’t want me around.

It was past.

We’d worked through the obstacles, leaving our friendship stronger.

My breathing caught as the light disappeared.

With trembling hands, I hurriedly secured my blindfold as my pulse thumped again in my ears, my breathing reverberating against the cement-block walls. I held on to the metal frame of the bunk bed as the locking mechanisms in the door clicked and finally, the bottom of the door scooted across the floor.

I strained to see what was hidden, to smell what hadn’t yet registered, to feel a familiar touch, and to hear what was still out of range. And then I heard.

Reid

I pointed at the large paper topographical map of Mason’s property lying upon his dining room table. “We need to verify that the helicopter left the ranch’s property.”

The hums of my colleagues filled the air.

Although it was nearly midnight, we were all together in a room with a table large enough to hold the surveys and maps. The dining room’s long wall of windows that during the day offered a stunning view, now peered out at the beginning of a moonless night. With the combination of latitude and longitude, the hours of daylight here at the ranch were much longer in the summertime than in Chicago. Even so, the sun had recently given up the ghost, giving way to a lingering dusk.

The suspended day and delayed night created an eerie and unsettling sensation.

It felt as if we were on the brink of a black hole—a loss of time and space that once we crossed over, we’d never return. The unspoken restlessness was evident in our murmurs and seen in the strained features of our expressions. The four of us were tried-and-true soldiers. We’d fought enemies and conquered cities. We’d also experienced loss. The latter was the catalyst that kept us focused, kept us going.

The warm breeze blowing from the open windows, doors, and overhead fans rustled the maps. Patrick and Mason hurriedly rearranged empty coffee cups whose new job now was acting as paperweights.

“Tomorrow the equipment will arrive to clean the ducts,” Mason said as he rescued a flyaway note one of us had written earlier.

This wasn’t the only room. All the windows were open throughout the house. Capos were stationed conspicuously around the exterior perimeter. The house was opened to the