to take. “What he means is, we’re friends of the governor, and there are nine of us. Resistance, as they say, is futile.” He grinned.
No. No. They were slowing him down. He reached for his key for the Kawasaki. “He’s been kidnapped along with another man. We assume by the same people who’ve done all the others. I’m on my way to the Vanessens’. Maybe you should come.”
The big guy cocked his head. “Are you Zakowsky?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded like that was expected and a little distasteful.
Seth shook his head. “Look, I’m in a hurry. Do what you want to do.” He skirted around them and ran to the parking lot where he’d stashed the bike. He didn’t care about his ego or how different they were or what anyone thought. He had a crazy idiot, polo-playing granny to save.
Why would these fucking humans not leave the room?
Lindsey strained his wrists against the rope that bound them. His feet were tied a little more loosely. The asswipes didn’t want to clean up his pee, so they’d allowed enough slack for him to shuffle to the bathroom. The floor beneath him looked like a warehouse, but that’s all he could see from the black bag they had over his head.
He needed to shift, but Cole’s words rang in his ears. He couldn’t let the humans see him. But if he waited too long, he’d lose the full moon and really be trapped. Clearly, the two guys playing cards in the room with him were just muscle like the others had been. A few minutes ago he’d heard one of them on the phone with whoever must be the boss, but nothing in the muffled conversation suggested who it could be.
What time was it? How long had he been unconscious? “Uh, can someone tell me the time?”
A deep voice said, “Yeah, sure, it’s—”
“Shut up, asshole.” The other man’s voice was higher and lighter, but his brain appeared a little more solid. “You can’t tell him that.”
“Why? What’s it matter?”
“I don’t know, but just don’t tell him, okay? It’s your deal.”
Damn. It felt like night. The power of the moon acted on him all twenty-four hours but got stronger at night during the full moon, and right now he had the itch. So it might be the night of the day he had been captured. Or maybe the next night, but surely he’d have wakened before then. “Where’s my friend? The guy you captured with me?”
The lighter voice guy made a sneering sound. “You mean the one you were kissing, pervert? As far as I’m concerned, they should drown both you fags and forget about the ransom.”
The deep voice cut in. “Now you need to shut up.”
“Yeah, well it’s the truth. Disgusting.”
“You folding or what?”
“Yeah.”
A cell phone rang. High Voice answered. “Yeah.”
Pause.
“Yeah, hang on.” He seemed to speak to Deep Voice. “Turn on the cameras and get out of the way.”
“Okay, yeah, I know.”
Footsteps, then silence.
Lindsey could hear the echo of voices from the cell phone but couldn’t make out the words. High Voice sounded annoyed. “They say they can’t tell who it is with the bag on his head. Turn on the microphones so they can hear his voice.”
His mother’s trembling soprano filled the space around him. “Lindsey, is that you?”
“Yes, darling. I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“Of course I’m worried. I’m hysterical!”
“Is Seth there?”
“I’m here, Lindsey, and I’m so sorry.”
His heart beat hard. Was that an apology? If he’d thought he was going to die, he’d die happy—but that so wasn’t happening.
“Mom, don’t pay the ransom until Seth tells you to—”
“Shut up, pervert.” A tinny click probably meant he’d turned the mike off. A low growl rumbled in Lindsey’s throat. He definitely wanted to eat that asshole, and not in a good way. But Seth had to know what Lindsey meant. Wait until the next day when they promised to deliver him.
Footsteps. High Voice snarled in his ear. “You want to be a hero, pervert? One more stunt and I’ll make you a martyr.” He roughly checked Lindsey’s bonds and pulled them tighter.
Deep Voice whined at him. “C’mon, man, that guy’s valuable. If you hurt him, the boss will kill you.” He snorted. “Literally.”
“Aw, shut up. I’m gonna watch TV. You stay with the pervert. He makes my skin crawl.”
“You watchin’ that new cop show?”
“Yeah.”
“I want to see it too.”
“I’ll record it.”
“Aw, shit, I’ll never get to see it.”
“I’ll call you if anything good happens.”
Footsteps. The chair scraped. A sigh. The sound of cards flipping