Neither the child nor the mara was in the bedroom, and the trail of evil led into the hall. A nightie-clad woman was hurrying towards the bedroom, but she froze, eyes widening in fear when she saw Kat.
Kat threw out her hands to show she held no weapons. "Did you see anyone run past here?"
The woman's gaze flickered. In that instant, Kat realized someone was behind her. She spun, but it was too late.
Something smashed into her head, and the lights went out.
Chapter Eleven
"The least you could do is get me a wet cloth to clean her face with." Ethan's tone was brusque, and seemed to be coming from a great distance.
"No one is doing anything until the sheriff gets here." The second voice was harsh and low and filled with so much anger it quivered. But it was a voice Kat recognized. It was the home owner who'd tried to shoot her. The father of the little girl the soul sucker had taken.
She opened her eyes and blinked several times, trying to get her bearings. She was still lying on the floor, but she was no longer in the hall. Her head was cradled on muscular thighs, and warm fingers touched her cheek, gently caressing. There was so much pain in her head it felt like her brain was about to explode, and the same could be said for the air, which was sharp with anger and tension.
She tilted her head and met Ethan's gaze. "You're here." She hadn't expected him to be. She'd thought he'd be chasing the soul sucker.
"I am." There was concern in his voice, but the fury she could feel in the air was visible in his nut-brown eyes. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit. What about the mara?"
"Gone with the kid."
She struggled to rise. "We have to go after them — "
Ethan put a hand on her shoulder, but it was the sound of a rifle being loaded that made her freeze.
"We're being held at gunpoint in the living room by the father and the oldest son," he explained, voice clipped. "The sheriff has been called."
Her gaze met his again. "Have you told them you're a cop?"
"Yeah," he said dryly. "They aren't buying it."
"You showed them your badge?"
"They're not buying that, either. And they took my gun."
She raised an eyebrow. "And you let them?"
He hesitated. Something flashed in his eyes. "They had a gun to your head. I had no choice."
"Ah." She was tempted to ask why that had stopped him, but she knew the answer would be anything other than an admission of caring. "Is there a football hanging off the side of my head? It feels like it."
A smile touched his mouth and did strange things to her pulse. "It's more like a golf ball." His fingers moved from her cheek to her head, gently probing her scalp just above the temple. "Nasty looking, but there's no cut."
"Good." She'd had more than her fair share of cuts already on this case. She raised a hand, touching his stubble-lined cheek. "We'll find her. Before the three days are up, we'll find her."
Just for a moment, his anger and fear and torment surrounded her, strong enough to almost taste. Then it shut down, as he shut down emotionally, until all that was left was his cop face. "Don't promise." His voice, though soft, was harsh.
"Because promises like that are almost never kept."
"Mine will be."
"Don't." The sound of sirens touched the air, and he asked, "You up to trying to track down the mara's scent once the sheriff releases us?"
She nodded and couldn't help wincing in pain. "Don't suppose anyone would give me a pain killer?"
Silence greeted her request. If it wasn't for the heavy breathing, she might have thought Ethan and she were alone in the room. She certainly couldn't see anyone else from where she was lying.