Ramie was nodding vehemently when Zack broke in.
“No need, man. We injected her with the tracking device, remember? Dane’s already working on getting a bead on her location. I vote we go in, wherever she is, with some serious shock and awe and lay waste to the entire fucking lot of them.”
“Fuck me,” Beau said in frustration as he glanced over to where Dane was booting up one of computers. He just hoped to fuck it worked after the utter chaos that had occurred. “I can’t even goddamn think straight! Of course! Jesus, how could I have forgotten the one thing I was the most adamant about? The one thing that would give us a chance if exactly what happened tonight occurred.”
“Keep it together, man,” Zack said softly, his eyes brimming with sympathy. “I know well the frustration in not knowing where someone important to you is. I’ve lived it over a decade. But we’ll get your girl back. You can take that to the bank.”
THIRTY
ARI’s eyes slitted open and bright fluorescent lights stabbed her pupils like shards of glass. Wincing, she slammed her eyelids shut once more and emitted a soft moan. Where was she? What had happened?
Her brain was effectively scrambled. Maybe she’d finally had the big one. The super psychic bleed Beau had feared. Or maybe she’d simply had a stroke. But weren’t they essentially one and the same? A stroke was a bleed in the brain, right? Hers just wasn’t the normal kind of bleed most stroke victims incurred. Her mind was so fuzzy that she strained to remember anything at all.
The ache in her head intensified as she tried to focus. To concentrate enough to make sense of her surroundings. Because something wasn’t right.
She couldn’t move.
Her arms and legs were restrained and cold metal surrounded her neck.
Her neck?
Her eyes flew open in alarm and this time she ignored the splintering pain the action caused, and she forced her gaze to her surroundings, panic billowing like a thunderstorm. Oh God, where was she? Was she ensconced in her worst nightmare? And if so, why couldn’t she awaken and seek comfort in Beau’s arms? Her shield against all hurts and fears.
And then the events of the night crashed into her, staggering her and leaving her breathless. Tears stung her eyelids. Were the others even alive? Was Beau alive? Oh God, he couldn’t be dead. No! The men who’d taken her were completely without honor. But she’d known her fate was inevitable once the safe room had been breached. Her only choice was to take a shot that they actually would leave Ramie and the others alone. Content themselves with finally achieving their primary objective. Her.
Now she would finally know what these . . . fanatics . . . wanted, and honestly, she was terrified to have that question answered. But if these people had her parents, would she finally see them? At least know they were safe? Alive?
Her pulse ratcheted upward until her breaths came in shallow bursts.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
The sound speared through her skull like someone pounding a pickaxe through her head. Nausea boiled in her stomach, and she swallowed convulsively even as she knew that swallowing the accumulating saliva would only nauseate her more.
“What do you want?” she rasped, shocked at the effort it took to even speak.
“We have a few tests we want to perform,” the man said as calmly as if he were discussing something as mundane as the weather. “You have a higher purpose, Arial. It’s time to embrace your destiny.”
Destiny? She didn’t want to embrace this freak’s idea of her destiny. Her destiny lay with Beau. And finding her parents so she could have her family back. So she could start her own. Share her new family with her mother and father. She just wanted a normal life!
The disembodied voice was seriously freaking her out, so she twisted left and right, craning her neck until her gaze finally found the source of the voice. Her heart leapt. Not at the sight of the gaunt medical-looking person wearing a lab coat, but rather the two men who flanked him.
Heavily muscled, tall. Towering over the much smaller-framed man. Both were expressionless but their eyes spoke of ruthlessness. They were hard and cold as they stared dispassionately at her. Her eyes narrowed in recognition of one of them. The asshole who’d been employed by her father. The man who’d attacked her. Tried to drug her. Unsuccessfully.
But they didn’t scare her. Once they would have. She would have scurried under the nearest table like a frightened mouse and covered her head and ears, shutting out everything around her. Now that she knew exactly what she was capable of and armed with the knowledge that there was likely a whole lot more she didn’t know she could do but possessed the necessary powers for, these assholes could easily be dealt with.
In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)
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