“Don’t you have cameras?” he demanded, recalling his efforts to sneak into Valhalla three weeks ago.
He’d barely managed to slip past the high-tech security system. How was it possible they couldn’t use it to find one small child?
“Not in every room,” Wolfe answered, his muscles clenched and a handgun held at his side. “Especially not the storage areas. That’s why we hoped Myst could speak with her.”
Of course not. Bas released a string of curses, his mind racing for a way he could find his daughter.
Any other day, he wouldn’t hesitate to kick Wolfe’s ass and head to the fifth floor. Whatever the Mave said, he refused to believe there was no way to get through the spell.
But it wasn’t any other day. He was still weakened from taking three bullets to the chest, and while he was willing to cheat in a fight when necessary, he didn’t like his current odds.
Which meant he had to figure out another way to reach Molly . . .
“Shit,” he breathed, abruptly realizing how stupid he’d been. He’d had the means to reach Molly in his hands the entire time. Well, not precisely in his hands, but close. Instinctively he reached down, only to recall that he was wearing the ridiculous hospital robe and his phone was still somewhere in France. “I need to call Kaede.”
Lana shook her head. “The enforcer is skilled, but not even he can get through the magic.”
“I don’t want him to try to slip through,” he corrected in impatient tones. “He gave Molly a bracelet.”
Myst glanced toward him, her expression confused. “It’s beautiful, but I don’t know how it will help.”
“It has a tracking device,” he said.
She blinked in shock. Understandable. Most four-year-old girls weren’t tagged with a GPS.
“Good Lord,” she breathed.
Bas shrugged. “After she was kidnapped he wanted to make sure we could always find her.”
There was a short silence before Myst released a shaky breath, her fingers pressed to her lips as she struggled to hold back her tears.
“I could kiss that male,” she breathed.
Bas reached to tuck a silver curl behind her ear. “No kisses,” he warned her. “But he’s going to get one hell of a Christmas bonus.”
Lana pulled out her phone, shoving it in his hand. “Here.”
He pressed in Kaede’s number only to hesitate when he was struck by a sudden thought. Lifting his head, he watched as Lana moved toward a monitor built into the wall.
“His phone won’t work in Valhalla,” he pointed out.
Turning on the monitor, she tapped in her private password to call up the security system. A few more taps and she turned to glance toward Bas.
“It should work now,” she said. “I’ve lowered the dampening field so you can contact him.”
Completing the number, Bas turned from the expectant gazes as he pressed the phone to his ear.
There was an audible click as the call was completed, but the enforcer didn’t speak, clearly suspicious of being contacted by an unknown number.
“Kaede, it’s Bas,” he assured his friend. “I need you to find Molly.” He cut through Kaede’s swift promise that he was on his way to help. “No. Just give me her location.” There was a tense silence as Kaede struggled against his urge to barrage Bas with a thousand questions and instead promised to text the location to the phone. Bas cut the connection, impatiently waiting for the coordinates to show up on the screen. Once they appeared, he hastily crossed the room to show them to Lana. “This is the GPS location.”
She pressed a button on the monitor, bringing up Valhalla’s blueprints. Then, skimming her finger over the screen, she at last pointed to a spot almost directly below them.
“Fifth floor, Section C, room two-fifty-five,” she murmured.
Wolfe moved to stand behind her shoulder, leaning forward to study the screen.
“A storage unit for the preschool,” he abruptly concluded.
Bas studied the Tagos’s stark profile. “Is there a camera?”
The older man shook his head. “No.”
Bas clenched his hands. “Shit.”
Lana slid her finger over the screen, calling up the complex schematics that revealed the building’s electrical grid.
She frowned as she traced a blue line to the storage room. “There’s an intercom.”
Bas wasn’t impressed. Dammit. His daughter was trapped with a female who’d already proven she was ruthless enough to lie, cheat, and steal to become leader of the Brotherhood.
Who the hell knew what she would do to a four-year-old child?
“How’s that going to help?” he challenged in bleak tones.
Lana turned, laying a comforting hand on his arm. “We’ll see if we can contact Molly. If she’s hiding I can lead her to a way out,” she said in soft tones. “If she’s with Stella, then we can try to negotiate for her release. Either way we’ll know if she’s okay.”
Bas forced himself to take a deep breath. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but he would have to settle for at least assuring himself that Molly was unhurt.
He nodded his head at the monitor. “Can we do it from here?”
“No.” Lana shut down the screen. “We need to go to my office.”
Without waiting for his response, Lana headed toward the door, closely followed by her faithful Tagos.
Waiting until they’d disappeared, Bas turned to discover Myst staring blankly into space, as if she’d just been struck by a hideous thought.
Instinctively he moved forward to wrap his arms around her slender body, tugging her against his chest.
“We’re going to get her back,” he murmured in soothing tones.
She nodded even as she trembled from the intensity of her inner emotions.
“I trust you,” she assured him.
He pulled back to study her pale face with unconcealed surprise. This female had fought tooth and nail to keep him at a distance.
“Truly?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Yes.”
He ran a hand up and down her back, trying to ease her vicious distress. Christ. She felt like she was going to shatter into a million pieces.
“Then what’s bothering you?”
“This is my vision,” she breathed, her eyes dark with distress.
He stilled. Had she seen something new? Something that was even worse than the first one?
“What’s your vision?” he demanded.
She laid her hands on his chest, gripping the fabric of his robe.
“Don’t you see?” she rasped. “When I foresaw that I would create a weapon, I assumed it would be some dangerous new technology.”
He frowned, still confused by her nearly incoherent words. “You know what the weapon is?”
“Molly.”
Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly hadn’t been his daughter’s name.
“Molly?”
“Yes.”
His frown deepened. “Molly is the weapon?”
She licked her lips, her heart pounding loud enough that he could hear it in the thick silence that shrouded the room. Absently he realized he couldn’t sense anyone near. Obviously Lana had been serious when she said that Valhalla would be evacuated.
“Remember Boggs said the weapon had something to do with my blood?” she said, her voice so low he could barely catch the words. “I created Molly and it was the power that flows through her blood that turned Stella into a plague carrier.”
His lips parted to deny her claim. Molly wasn’t a weapon. She was a sweet, innocent child. But he couldn’t force the words to form.
Maybe she was right. Her vision had been of death and destruction spreading through Valhalla.
“God. Damn.”
* * *
Stella paced the storage room, her temper at the breaking point.
For the past half hour she’d desperately searched for a way out. Granted, she held a trump card in the child. But she wante
d to know that she could escape if worse came to worst.
At last she’d been forced to concede defeat and return to the storage room. Every door was locked tight. There weren’t any windows. No vents. She’d had an easier time escaping from the dungeons.
Now she had to trust that Peter’s vision was right and she could force the clairvoyant to get her the weapon, so she could demand release from Valhalla.
Or maybe she’d just kill them all....
There was a faint rustle, then the feel of tiny fingers tugging on the hem of her camisole.
“I’m hungry,” a childish voice complained.
Stella knocked away the clinging fingers and glared down at Molly’s tiny face. She’d already tried to convince the kid to contact her mother. After all, clairvoyants could speak mind to mind with other people. Or at least that’s what she’d been told.
But the stubborn brat refused to obey.
“I warned you, there’s no snack until we find your mother,” she snapped.
The girl hunched her shoulder, her lashes lowering to hide her eyes.
“She’s not here.”
Stella snorted. She didn’t know if the child had any powers, but it certainly wasn’t lying.
“Little girls shouldn’t tell untruths,” she mocked. “Not unless you want to be punished.”
Molly took a step back, clutching a ragged stuffed hippo to her chest.
“I don’t like you.”
“Good.” Stella leaned down until they were nose to nose. “You want to get away from me, then tell me what I want to know.”
Molly stuck out her lower lip. “I can’t. The magic—”
“No more about the damned magic, you freak,” Stella burst out, straightening as she whirled around to resume her pacing.
Not an easy task when the large room was crammed with chairs and desks and rolled-up carpets.
“It’s all around us,” the little girl insisted.
Stella shivered, her hands absently rubbing up and down her bare arms. Almost as if she could sense the magic she claimed was holding them hostage.
Ridiculous.
She gave a shake of her head, sending a glare toward the child.
“Then we wait. Sooner or later your mother will come looking for you,” she muttered.
Molly stuck her thumb in her mouth, giving it a defiant suck. Stella hissed, whirling away as she realized she was squabbling with a child.
God Almighty. She was the leader of the Brotherhood. A woman feared and respected throughout the world. To be reduced to this was . . . unacceptable.
She was still pacing when a beep suddenly pierced the silence. Striding to the center of the room, she glared at Molly, suspecting she’d done something to try and piss her off.
“What’s that noise?”
Molly glanced toward the wall. “The speaking TV.”
Stella scowled. “What?”
“There.” Molly crossed the room to point toward a monitor that was built into the wall. “See?”
“An intercom,” Stella breathed, cautiously moving to stand directly in front of the screen. “How do I turn it on?”
Molly reached to touch a small button. “You press this.”
There was a flicker of light, then the image of a dark-haired woman with perfect features suddenly came into focus. Stella narrowed her gaze, taking in the woman’s cold, aloof expression and the elegant office behind her.
Of course she was seated in comfort, looking every inch the Mave of Valhalla, while Stella was filthy, her hair a mess, and trapped like a rat.
Fury blasted through her, along with sharp tingles of pain that felt as if she’d been stung by a hundred bees. It wasn’t the first time she’d experienced that pain since being trapped. She wasn’t sure what the strange sensation meant, but it had to be some reaction to Valhalla, right?
Dammit, she had to get out of there.
“Mave,” she snapped, her fear doing nothing to ease her anger. “What took you so long?”
The woman smiled, looking unbearably smug. “There was no hurry,” she mocked. “It’s not like you’re going anywhere.”
Stella clenched her teeth, allowing herself to imagine the pleasure of wrapping her fingers around the smug woman’s throat and squeezing.
Instead she forced a sneering smile to her lips. “You continually underestimate me. That’s fine.” She gave a toss of her head. “It gives me the upper hand.”
“You’re trapped,” the Mave pointed out in dry tones. “That hardly gives you an upper hand.”
Bending to the side, Stella grasped Molly’s arm and jerked her up so the Mave could see that she wasn’t alone.
“Ah, but I have a hostage.”
The Mave’s face hardened with open disdain even as there was a muffled sound coming from somewhere in her office. Was there someone there with her?
Stella hoped it was the brat’s mother.
“Not even you are enough of a monster to threaten an innocent child,” the Mave stated in icy tones.
Would she? Stella gave an inward shrug. The answer didn’t really matter so long as the leader of Valhalla believed she would.
“I will do whatever is necessary to survive.”
The Mave leaned forward, her face filling the screen. “What do you want?”
Stella licked her lips, barely suppressing the urge to back away. The woman couldn’t blast her magic through an intercom. Even if it did feel as if there were electrical currents dancing over her skin.
Fiercely she shoved aside the worry she might be losing her mind. She was under a lot of stress. It was no wonder her body was so twitchy. Instead she concentrated on the Mave’s question.
Her first thought was to demand safe passage out of Valhalla. All she wanted was to be miles away from this godforsaken place. But she wasn’t stupid.
Even if they did let her out, they would soon hunt her down and return her to the dungeons. And this time they would make very certain she didn’t have the opportunity to escape. Unless they simply killed her.
No. Her only chance to survive was to get what was promised to her.
“I want the clairvoyant,” she at last informed the Mave.
Dark brows arched. “That’s all?”
“For now.”
“Fine.” The Mave settled back in her seat. “Release the girl and—”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Stella interrupted with a sharp laugh. “The girl stays with me until I have my hands on the clairvoyant.”
The older woman studied her with an unreadable expression. She could make a fortune at poker, Stella wryly acknowledged.
“Then we are at a standstill.” The Mave lifted a slender hand, as if reaching to turn off the intercom. “I won’t allow Myst to come to you until I know her daughter is safe.”
Tightening her grip on Molly’s arm, she lifted the girl off the ground to give her a rough shake.
“Don’t push me, Mave.”
“Ow,” Molly cried, struggling to get free.
Something dark and lethally terrifying entered the Mave’s eyes, making Stella deeply relieved that the older woman wasn’t in the storage room with her. She had a terrible suspicion that she would be lying dead on the floor in that case.
“Stop,” the Mave snapped. “I will see if I can locate Myst.”
“Make it soon,” Stella hissed, dropping Molly to the floor when the screen went black. “The bitch better not disappoint me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Myst had endured terror over the years.
The vision. Being sold to the Brotherhood. Living on the run. Discovering that she was pregnant and knowing she couldn’t keep her child.
But when Molly had been kidnapped a few weeks ago, she’d learned the true meaning of fear.
And now she was forced to live through it again.
Standing near a bank of windows in the Mave’s office, she trembled in the circle of Bas’s arms as the computer screen went dark and the image of her precio
us daughter was lost.
If it wasn’t for Bas’s ruthless grip, she would be running screaming from the office like a lunatic.
“Dear God,” she breathed, her voice choked with tears. “You have to let me go to her.”
“There’s no way to get you past the barrier,” Lana reminded her in grim tones. “Even if we were willing to negotiate with the female.”
Myst stiffened, glaring at the older woman. This was her child they were talking about. It wasn’t the Mave’s decision if they would or wouldn’t negotiate to get her back.
“We have to do something.”
“We will, cara. I swear,” Bas murmured, brushing his lips over the top of her head before he was glaring at Lana. “I’m getting my daughter; I don’t care what I have to do to get past the spells.”
Wolfe moved to stand next to Lana as she rose from her chair.
“We are all worried about Molly, assassin,” he retorted in sharp tones. “There’s no need for threats.”
Lana regarded them with a sympathetic expression, even as she took firm control of the situation.
“Wolfe is right, Bas. We all love your daughter, but it’s not going to help to fight with each other,” she pointed out in gentle tones. “We need to work together to figure out a plan.”
Myst felt Bas tremble with the effort to contain his furious need to hunt down the female who’d threatened their daughter. His voice, however, was stripped of emotions when he at last spoke.
“You actually think the female can be convinced to give up her only hostage?”
Lana didn’t flinch beneath his fierce glare. “The obvious solution is to convince Stella that releasing Molly is in her own best interest.”
“Or we could give her what she wants,” a voice drawled from the doorway.
The four of them turned in unison to discover the Keeper of Tales standing just inside the office, his odd body covered by an ivory robe and his eyes shimmering pure white in the overhead lights.
“Shit, how do you do that?” Wolfe ground out between clenched teeth, his gun pointed at the doppelganger’s head.
“‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,’” Boggs quoted with a twist of his lips.
“I’m going to staple a cowbell to your fucking ass,” Wolfe muttered, grudgingly lowering his gun. “That will keep you from sneaking up on me.”