knew she might. It’s in the old history books. Highsmith has a library full of that kind of stuff. But it actually solved some problems, their dying. It meant I could go on to the next one without getting caught.”
Highsmith? What did he have to do with this? Was Highsmith the one Reggie had called? “You’re a Keeper. It didn’t bother you to watch them die?”
“It did, a little. But I was never a very strong Keeper. Can’t teleport for shit. Anyway, you can overcome your instincts, you know—if you want something bad enough. Question of will. And I wanted them bad. Gina Santoro? You have no idea.”
“But Ariel and Kelly? They weren’t celebrities.”
“I’ll be honest, I have a hard time remembering which was which, with those two. But once you get a taste for blood, you just gotta have it....” He shrugged.
“But the car bomb. The one that killed my friend Julio...”
“Charles’s idea. He doesn’t like you. I kinda did, up until five minutes ago.” Oh, my God, she thought. Highsmith was a murderer, too. The thought enraged her. Reggie tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her toward him, and she thought, now. She turned into him and pushed with all her weight, her shoulder hitting him in the chest.
He wasn’t expecting it, and he couldn’t keep his balance, let alone level his gun at her. She kept hitting him with her shoulder, pushing into him, gaining momentum, and when he loosened his grip on her to stop his own backward fall, the rope finally broke, freeing her hands. She elbowed him in the face.
He spiraled forty-five degrees and fell to one knee, dropping his gun.
They both went for it, but she was faster.
She grabbed it and scrambled back out of his reach, then aimed it squarely at him, holding it with both hands and locking her elbows.
Time froze. Reggie crouched, staring at her, and then he turned and ran toward the Aventador.
She tried to find the safety, but her fingers wouldn’t work properly, either from the adrenaline pumping through her or from her hands having been bound too tightly. She finally managed it, but then it took several tries before she could pull back the hammer, and by that time he had reached the car and was lifting that crazy door.
She didn’t know if she had it in her to shoot a man in the back, but she could sure shoot a car.
Reggie was inside and turning the key in the ignition when she fired the first shot. It missed.
So did the second. The next produced a distinctive ping, suggesting her aim was improving, but the car was now reversing away from her. She lost count of how many times she fired before the Lamborghini abruptly stopped.
Reggie hauled ass out of the car, then dropped into a crouch, staring at something behind her. She turned and saw, to her shock, an Elven woman coming out of the shed.
It was Alessande. She was moving slowly, almost tentatively, and Sailor turned to see Reggie take off running, not to the road, but straight down the hill, into the brush.
Alessande must have teleported. She would need recovery time before she could give chase, and even longer before she could teleport again.
And Reggie was heading for the ocean. In less than a minute he would be crossing Pacific Coast Highway. No Elven would follow him there. It was up to her, Sailor realized.
She took off after him.
* * *
Declan returned to the beach house to find both Sailor and his car gone, and Harriet as frantic as he’d ever seen her. What the hell had happened? If Sailor hadn’t been taken against her will, then she’d taken his car and driven...where?
He was in no shape to shift again so soon, and with no clear intention of where to go, it would have been pointless anyway.
And then he felt her. As abruptly as it had closed, the window opened, restoring the connection. He felt Sailor’s energy, her unique vibrational energy reaching out to him. Hope. Terror. He could almost hear her thoughts.
Find me.
* * *
Sailor was running well, as well as she’d ever run. It must be the relief of survival. Adrenaline. Or sheer, stupid will. But for the moment she was in her element, even in the rain.
The clouds parted at the horizon, just enough to show the sun sliding slowly toward the ocean. Another hour, she figured. She watched Reggie cross the highway during a break in traffic. She