He was standing, his feet untied, which at least gave him some means of defense if they attacked. He shifted slightly, trying to get a feel for how well his arms were tied. Rough bark scraped across his spine. He glanced up. There was no canopy above him, which meant he was tied to a stump. His arms had been pulled back and his wrists roped behind the trunk. He flexed his fingers, more to get the blood flowing back into them than anything else, and then he tried to move his wrists. The rope slid around his skin, burning sharply. He hissed at the pain, and yet he felt a slight sense of elation. They'd tied him tightly, but not tightly enough. He could move his wrists, and if he could do that, then he could escape. All he needed to do was make his hands slippery enough with blood to force them past the rope's tension.
And the only problem with that was the dancing woman. Or rather, the lust he could smell coming off her. The slightest hint of blood could set her off, and he had a horrible suspicion that Anni wouldn't stop her. That was why she was na**d—why he was na**d. No troublesome clothes to get in the way of a good party.
But it was a party that wasn't going to happen if he could damn well help it. He wasn't about to lose the future he'd always dreamed of to some woman's insane revenge.
He looked around and saw René lying on the ground near his left, as na**d as he and trussed up tighter than a turkey at Thanksgiving. His eyes were closed and his expression slack, as if he were still out to it. But the blood beginning to stain the ropes, and the slight flexing of his leg and arm muscles told a different story.
As Cade flexed his arms and moved his wrists, fighting the ropes, he glanced back to the two women. Jina was looking his way, and she gave him a cold smile when his gaze met hers.
"So, our chief murderer is awake."
"Jontee deserved the death he got,” he said, hoping that by talking to her he'd keep her from noticing what he and René were attempting to do. “You never saw what your brother did to those people."
It was a guess, but not much of one. If Jontee did indeed have a sister he'd been in contact with telepathically and Jina was that sister, it at least explained her current actions, though certainly not why it had taken her so long to get around to her vengeance. He, at least, had never been too hard to track down.
Jina hawked and spat. The globule landed close to his bare toes, glistening softly against the darker stone underneath it. “It wasn't Jontee. It was Nelle."
"Nelle may have been the main force behind the murders, but it was Jontee performing them."
Surprise touched her weather-beaten features. “If you knew that, how come you never went after her?"
"We had no proof, for a start. It was Jontee's prints on the weapon, and Jontee who I stopped from killing the last man. I suspected Nelle, but the suspicions of a raw recruit don't mean much without proof."
She snorted softly. “Didn't try too hard to look for her afterwards, did you?"
No, they hadn't. But then, the killings had stopped, they had a suspect they'd caught red-handed, and there was plenty of evidence suggesting he was the only one committing the crime. “We had a warrant out for her arrest. She was never found."
"Hard to find someone if you ain't actually looking for them,” she sneered.
"Especially when your brother refused to answer any questions about her."
She sniffed and looked away. “He had no choice in that."
"Because Nelle held his mind?"
"Yes.” She glanced his way again and the maliciousness in her eyes sent a chill running through him. “I watched him die, you know. I was one of the witnesses."
He had to wonder how, since Jontee's execution had restricted viewing, but he didn't doubt what she said. “I was a witness, too. You could have gotten me there, Jina."
She sneered again. “It was tempting, but you weren't first on my list and had to wait your time."
"Then Nelle was?"
"Yes."
"And she's dead?"
"It took me a long time to find her, but yes, she's dead."
Meaning he'd wasted half his time here searching for a woman who didn't exist. Maybe if he hadn't been so convinced it was Nelle behind the murders, he might have picked up clues sooner.
"Then how did you recognize Savannah at the club?"
She snorted. “Saw the stupid bitch leaving her apartment."
So he and Savannah had both been right—she hadn't been followed, but she'd definitely been spotted.
"I can understand you snatching me, but why take René? You know he's a Sinclair, don't you?"