Elusive Memories (The Hunted #1)

“You should know by now that I hate to let my play things go,” Reed said. “Especially after the last one got away.”

  How had he found her? Sam swiped her mouth with her tongue and spit more dirt. She didn’t respond.

  “Which is why I always make sure to install a special tracking device in my toys,” he continued. “And why, when we activated the tracking device, I was surprised to find my favorite memory-bringer out in the middle of nowhere.”

  How had Coop not known? When Sam failed to respond again, Reed grunted. “It’s not like you got here yourself.”

  With one final shove into the ground, he grabbed the back of her collar and yanked. She sputtered and choked, thinking of escape.

  “Oh no, memory-bringer. You’re not going to get away this time.”

  Sam panicked, grabbing her collar and pulling it away from her throat. Gulping in air, she said, “You mean you didn’t bring Jennings with you, Rocky? I kinda liked him. He helped me get out.”

  Reed wrapped his hands around her neck. “Enough of this.” He tightened his hold. “You will obey me.”

  Sam clawed at his hands, trying to get air. “I will never obey you.” Black spots appeared in her vision. Fear surged. She’d lose consciousness soon, and then what would Reed do?

  He opened his mouth to respond, but stumbled forward, taking them both to the ground. His hands came loose mid-fall, and Sam landed on her hands and knees, gasping for air.

  “If there’s one thing we hate more than memory-bringers, it’s Hunter assholes like you.”

  Jones.

  A sense of relief rushed through her. As she rubbed her neck, Reed popped up, adjusting his jacket and brushing off the dirt.

  “And here I thought you’d approve of the Northern Alliance Betterment Society’s torture of the memory-bringer. Surely you’d like to see her abilities neutralized.”

  Jones’s face revealed nothing as he cocked his gun. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Come with us. Now.”

  “If you give me the memory-bringer, I’d be happy to leave the location of your safe house out of my report. I can’t imagine how difficult it would be to relocate.”

  Sam’s gaze darted to Jones. How much did he really dislike memory-bringers? Coop thought Jones’s hatred for the Hunters would win, but nothing was a given. Sam moved into a crouch and inched away from the group. If she had to run, she’d give herself a head start.

  Jones pointed his gun at Reed’s chest. “You have five seconds to come with us or I will shoot you.”

  Reed snorted. “Come now, we’re civilized beings. Just give me the memory-bringer and I’ll leave. It’ll be like I wasn’t even here. I’m sure we can reach a gentlemen’s agreement.”

  Jones flipped the safety. “Last chance.”

  “I’m not leaving without the memory-bri—”

  Jones lowered his gun and shot Reed in the knee. “Son of a—” Reed’s leg buckled and he went down hard. Sam stared in horror as blood bubbled and spilled. Her gaze jerked back to Jones. But he was facing his men. “Take him to the barn for some discussion. Make sure he stays alive long enough to get some answers.”

  Two came forward and dragged Reed away, disappearing into the corn field, Reed’s angry shouts fading as they got closer to the house. Jones turned to Sam.

  “We said get out of our sight, not bring a Hunter to our doorstep. What else are you hiding from us?”

  “N-nothing.” Sam hunched her shoulders and tried to make herself smaller.

  “We’ll see about that. You.” Jones turned and pointed at his remaining man. “Find that tracking device he talked about and remove it. We can’t afford having her draw anyone else here.”

  The man tugged her into a standing position and ran his hands over her body, searching for the tracking device. She squeezed her eyes shut as he came to rest at her hips.

  “Jones. She’s got something in her pockets.” He removed the bottle of water, now crinkled from cushioning her fall, and the snack bars.

  “Well,” Jones drawled. “Stealing from us, memory-bringer? You’ll regret that.”

  Sam kept her mouth shut and stared straight ahead at a point beyond Jones. It’s not like they didn’t have any to spare—and she wasn’t about to find herself in a situation where she’d have to survive without food again.

  “Find the tracking device,” Jones snapped.

  The man continued his search. After making his way down to her foot, he paused, fingering a spot above her ankle.

  “Here.”

  Jones crossed his arms and nodded, his mouth tight. “Take it out.”

  The man returned the nod and fished a knife out of his pocket. Shit. This was not going to end well. Sam stumbled, but he grabbed her ankle. The air in her lungs burst out in a grunt as she landed on the ground. He studied her for a moment and said, not unkindly, “This is going to hurt.”

  He plunged the knife into her leg. She shoved her fist into her mouth to stop herself from screaming. It hurt. The pain was like fire licking up her leg. He dug the knife further in, twisting until he found the device and flicked it out. As it landed on the ground, she swallowed back a wave of nausea, beads of sweat popping out across her forehead.

  She groaned.

  Jones strode over and smashed the small device with his foot.

  Sam swallowed reflexively again. The man stood, pulling her to her feet without a care. She wobbled. Blood dripped down her ankle and across her feet.

  Jones wore a disapproving look. “Carry her back to the house.”