My Cruel Salvation (Fallen Saint # 3) - J. Kenner Page 0,96

the phone, reads the message, then bites out a foul curse.

“It’s already almost noon,” I say, hating the way my voice is catching, my throat already clogged with tears. “How the hell are we going to find them?”

My question is hanging in the air, when there’s a pounding at the door. I look at Ronan and Reggie, but it’s clear they’re not expecting another team member. Ronan still has my phone, and he opens the security app, then mutters, “Motherfucker.”

“What?” I demand. “Who is it?”

He pulls his gun as he walks closer to the door, and Reggie does the same. I’m not armed at the moment, though I realize I should be even though I’m safe in Brandy’s house.

I step back letting them take the lead. Ronan rips open the door, and I gasp. Because standing right there is Christopher Doyle.

Chapter Thirty-Six

He was with her again.

Devlin didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, all he knew was that Ellie was in his arms again, and he finally felt whole. She said nothing, just looked at him, her eyes staring deep into his.

It was a moment he didn’t want to lose, this sense of her, this feel of her, as if she surrounded him. As if she was protecting him, blanketing him, but from what, he couldn’t remember. He only knew that there’d been something wrong. But now … well, now everything was right again.

He reached for her, frowning when she seemed to fade away into so much mist, only to return when he pulled back his hand.

“El?” She only smiled, then reached up and pressed her hands on either side of his face. It was an odd touch, like being kissed by electricity. And when he looked at her face again, it seemed as though her eyes were on fire.

Her lips parted and she spoke two words — “Wake up.”

He frowned.

“Wake up.”

Once again he shook his head. He didn’t understand. He wasn’t asleep. He was with Ellie. He was where he wanted to be, and—

“Devlin, Devlin, please, please wake up!”

It was as if he’d been ripped from heaven. His head was pounding, and he was on the verge of throwing up. Everything around him was gray. Nothing made sense.

He was standing against a post, his hands tied together behind him, trapping him. He struggled, but he couldn’t budge the bindings.

“Devlin?”

Brandy. He drew in a breath as reality slammed back against him. Slowly, the room came into focus. His head throbbed, and he remembered something hard and fast slamming against him as their captors tugged them out of the van before moving them into the backseat of a car.

Their captors had only taken the bags off once they were not only in this room, but tied to poles. And then, once Devlin was out of the bag, they’d lashed out against his head again.

“Devlin?”

He could hear the urgency in Brandy’s voice, but he was moving—thinking—so slowly.

“Devlin, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, just groggy.”

“I thought they were going to kill you. I mean, I really thought you were dead.”

He could hear the terror—and the tears—in her voice.

“I’m not dead yet,” he said, and was gratified when she hiccupped out a tiny laugh. “Have they been in the room since they tied us here? Have you seen any faces? Do you know where we are?”

“No. But we drove a long way.”

“And into elevation,” he said, as his memories began to return. The way his ears popped, the angle of the car, the strain of the engine. They’d gone north, then east, and his best guess was that they’d gone out Interstate 10, then probably up toward Big Bear.

That, however, was only a guess.

“How long have I been out?”

“I think a couple of hours. I was so scared that they’d actually killed you. Then you started talking. You called out for Ellie.” He heard the choking sound as she said her friend’s name. “Devlin, are we ever going to get back?”

“Of course we will.” What else could he say? She deserved the truth, but he didn’t want her to have the fear that went along with it. At least not yet. At least not until he could fully assess the situation and decide if maybe—just maybe—they had a shot at a positive outcome.

“We need information. We need to know their endgame. That means we need time. Can you stay calm? Can you trust me?”

“Stay calm? I don’t know. Trust you? Absolutely. Although to be honest, Devlin, even though you’re a really amazing guy, I’m not