Wednesday. Private Air Strip, Seattle, Washington.

Vara’s ribs hurt and her knee throbbed. Neither had anything on the electrical burns searing her side.

So much for avoiding electricity.

Not long after they’d shoved her in the van one man had held her down while the other zapped her with God only knew how many volts.

She’d passed out.

Waking up wasn’t any better, but with the bag over her head she could play possum.

How long had they been driving? Where were they taking her? And what damage had the electrical charge done to the tracker?

Her watch was gone and with it the secondary tracking device. The vest had been stripped off. She didn’t feel the press of her phone and they’d removed her boots.

It was probably a good bet to assume the microphone was gone as well. If the electrical shock had fried the tracker she was well and truly fucked. The van hit a pothole and her head banged on the floor. She sucked in a breath through her nose and caught the full smell of the cloth bag. It was an unholy combination of feet and rotten produce.

Breathe through the mouth.

“She’s waking up,” a man said. His words were flavored, familiar. Every Russian enforcer she’d met spoke like they were trying to fit their ego through the head of a needle.

A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into a sitting position.

Think.

She had to think.

They’d either known about the sting or weren’t willing to pay her price.

The crash.

Her stomach knotted up. She’d seen Alec whirl toward her, blood covering his face, his eyes crazed and wide. It was the last thing she saw before they bagged her.

Was he still alive? Why had he insisted on riding with her? What about the FBI agents?

Breathe. In through the mouth, out through the nose.

The smell was so strong she could taste the foul odor. Her mouth watered and her stomach clenched.

Had they grabbed the fake package as well? Why grab her if they got what they thought they wanted?

There must be something else. A piece of the puzzle that made her valuable—if she were Djinn.

Shit.

Please let the tracker still be operational.

If it wasn’t, and they started demanding things, Vara was dead.

The air pressure in the van changed, and it slowed, rocking her to the right. She tilted her head to the side. The hum of an engine grew louder. A fresh breeze blew across her arms.

Someone had opened a window.

“Let’s go,” someone at the front of the van called out.

“Help,” Vara shouted.

She barely got the one word out before something hard connected with the side of her head, sending her sprawling to the floor.

“No one can hear you,” a man snarled.

That voice. It was familiar.

Vara balled her hands into fists.

Someone jerked her upright by the back of her shirt and kept a hold on her.

The van maneuvered a short distance away. The sound of the engine grew louder.

Shit. This had to be bad.

The rear doors opened and another set of hands grabbed her. They pulled her to her feet and marched her out of the van. She tripped over her own feet, fell to her knees and stumbled against her captors as much as she could. Anything to buy even a few precious seconds.

“Get that off her so she can walk.”

The bag was snatched off her head. Bright lights blinded her for a moment and she froze.

A small passenger plane sat on the tarmac of a backyard airport. There was nothing but trees and open field for miles around. Lights dotted the horizon, but no one was there. No one would hear her scream. She was alone.

“Let’s go.” The man at her side hauled her forward.

“No.” Vara locked her knees.

The man shoved her.

She dropped to the ground, breaking their hold on her. She rolled and shoved up, sprinting. Her socks offered no protection to the tiny stones. She grit her teeth and kept running.

A long shadow bounced beside her, getting bigger.

She put on a burst of speed.

A heavyweight crashed into her from behind, driving her to the ground.

“I’m going to enjoy making you scream.” The man drove his elbow into her back.

She knew him. That voice, it was familiar.

Two men hauled her up and dragged her toward the plane. They got her on it and strapped into a leather chair in a seat by a window.

One by one her masked captors pulled their black knit masks off. She recognized Ivan from Damascus, the security footage and his prior mug shot. The others were unknown to her.

The last man sank into the aisle seat next to her.

Her stomach dropped.

“No,” she whispered.

He tugged his mask off and Wyatt grinned at her. “Hi, honey. I’m home.”

THURSDAY. CIA SAFE House, Portland, Oregon.

Four hours and twenty minutes.

That was how long since Alec had lost sight of Vara. He couldn’t help the clock counting it all down, knowing she could be dead already.

Brett used his flashlight to signal Alec and Paxton from the side gate.

Alec didn’t want to trust Brett, but he’d proven adept at not only getting them a last minute flight to Portland, but at locating Vara’s handler and ferreting out why the man was on this side of the country. The whole thing had Alec thinking there’d been eyes on Vara this whole time.

Had they been bait all along?

“Move.” Paxton planted his hand on Alec’s back and shoved him forward.

Alec ignored the helping hand and picked up the pace.

Brett was through the side gate of what he’d told them was a CIA safe house. They would have minimal time to access the house, grab Chad and get out before CIA muscle arrived. Normally Alec was the one doing the rescuing. Kidnapping wasn’t a typical on the job activity, but they’d had a lot of weird shit going on.

Alec and Paxton caught up with Brett jimmying the side door open. The moment they were inside things would happen fast. There was no way to bypass the alarm system without more sophisticated equipment. From here it was smash, grab, go.

“Ready?” Brett whispered.

“Do it,” Alec growled.

Brett grunted. Metal groaned. Screws popped out of the French door and one swung open.

“Go. Bedroom, top of the stairs, just like we planned,” Brett said.

Alec and Paxton moved together to the tune of the chirping alarm system.

The house was minimally furnished with that barely lived-in feel. Even the air was slightly stale.

They proceeded up the stairs, silent as ghosts.

A bed creaked.

Alec flattened his back to the wall, his gaze trained on the dark shadows shrouding the bedroom ahead.

Chad might just be a company paper pusher, but he was CIA. Still dangerous.

Paxton crept up after Alec, keeping low. As a retired sniper, Paxton was better kept in reserve while Alec waded in.

He reached the top of the stairs and crossed the hall to put his back to the wall, peering over his shoulder into the bedroom beyond.

Nothing moved.

No sound, save for the alarm system.

Chad was awake and likely waiting for them.

Too bad Alec didn’t have any toys with him. A flash grenade would make this a hell of a lot easier

They had to make a move. The longer they stood here the greater their chance of capture became.

“Police, don’t move,” Brett bellowed from below.

“I’ve got him,” Paxton said and beat his fist on the wall.

Alec took a step away from the wall.

“Get that one,” he barked then stepped into the bedroom, weapon up.

“Thank God you guys are fast.” A man unfolded from a couched position behind the bed, a gun hanging from his index finger. “I’m—”

Alec circled the bed. It wasn’t until he was snatched Chad’s arm that the man realized something was off.

Chad’s eyes went wide. “What the—”

Alec twisted the man’s arm and struck out with the butt of his gun, cracking it against Chad’s head.

“We’ve got to move,” Brett yelled.

“Pax, help me?” Alec holstered his weapon and jerked out a pair of zip ties.

With Paxton’s help they secured Chad’s arms and ankles. Alec tossed the guy over his shoulder and they raced out the side door, through the back yard and across the neighbor’s property to the other street while sirens blared in the distance.

“We gotta go,” Brett chanted.

Alec dumped Brett into the back seat of the SUV and climbed in after the guy. Brett hit the gas, and they were off into the night.

Half an hour later they arrived at another nondescript house in a poorer area. Brett left them for a moment and came back with keys and a wicked smile Alec wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end were he in Chad’s shoes. Their prisoner had come to, but hadn’t said a word. It was a little impressive for a guy in his underwear.

Alec and Paxton wrestled Chad out of the SUV and into the small, attached garage. The walls were soundproofed to some extent with dirty, old mattresses and the stains on the floor were suspect to say the least.

“Do I want to know?” Alec glanced at Brett as they secured Chad to a chair.

“Cops raided this place a week ago. A friend told me about it.” Brett shrugged and dragged another chair over to face Chad.

The two CIA agents glared at each other.

“You going to make me ask?” Brett said to Chad.

Alec crossed his arms over his chest to keep from reaching for his weapon. This man’s decisions were what endangered Vara. This whole shit storm was his fault.

“You’re fucking up so bad, Jones. You’ll be over after this,” Chad taunted.

“Me?” Brett flattened his hand against his chest and his brow rose. “Me, the guy who got all the credit for stopping a chemical attack on D.C.?”

“That wasn’t you,” Chad snarled.

“You’re right. It was these guys.” Brett nodded at Alec and Paxton.

Chemical attack? What the hell was Brett talking about? Some other Aegis Group operation Alec didn’t know about?

Chad’s gaze flicked to Alec then back to Brett.

“You fucked over our deep cover operative. Why? What are you planning? Where is she?” Brett demanded.

“Fuck you, Jones.”

“You’re going to answer the God damn questions.” Alec took two steps before Paxton was on him, pulling him back from Chad.

“Look, you’re only going to get a few chances before we can’t keep this guy off you.” Brett thumbed at Alec. “He’s pretty pissed you put a target on his girl. I don’t think you’d last long with him.”

Chad glared at Brett, ignoring Alec.

Brett studied the agent’s face.

Alec glanced at Paxton who mouthed, “Breathe,” at him.

“You weren’t part of the team when they brought Vara in, were you? She predated you.” Brett frowned and turned toward Alec. “Any chance you know who that was?”

“No.” Alec’s stomach tightened. “But I can find out.”

“Do it.”

Alec nodded and headed into the house.

When he and Vara had traded their emergency contacts just in case, he hadn’t expected to ever make this call. But here he was.

He unlocked his phone and scrolled to Vara’s mother’s number. Lisa. He didn’t know what her new, married name was, but it wasn’t Price anymore.

Here went nothing.

Alec pressed the call button and listened to the line ring. And ring. And ring.

Shit.

It went to voicemail.

He wasn’t about to share the news of Vara’s abduction this way. He ended the call.

There was another number for Lisa.

This was important.

Alec hit the button and listened again.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

“H-hello?” A man said.

“Sir, I need to speak with Lisa. It’s about Vara.” Alec’s hand trembled at her name.

“Who is this? What about Vara?” To the man’s credit he was waking up fast.

“Give me the phone,” a woman said in a stern voice Alec recognized.

Alec swallowed and listened to their hushed voices.

“Who is this?” Lisa asked.

“It’s Alec Esposito, ma’am.”

“What’s happened to Vara?” There was a slight tremble to her voice.

“I can’t give you all the details. I can tell you I’m trying to—she needs your help.” Alec closed his eyes. “You had a friend, back before Vara started her company, someone who maybe helped her out? A man. I need to contact him.”

“This line—I can’t.” The desperation in Lisa’s voice was growing. “I’ll call you back.”

Alec ended the call and paced the tiny kitchen.

Paxton poked his head inside. “Anything?”

“She needs a secure line to talk.”

“Shit. Well, good thing Zain gave us some badass phones, huh?” Paxton grimaced. “Dude’s chatty in all the wrong ways. I already hate this fucker.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Alec stopped in his tracks as his phone began to ring, this time with Lisa’s cell as the incoming number. “Hello?”

“Alec, are you there?” Lisa’s voice was funny, kind of distant and a little muffled.

“Yes. Is this line secure?” he asked.

“It is,” Lisa replied.

“What the hell is going on?” a gravelly male voice asked.

“Saul, it’s about Vara,” Lisa said.

“What’s happened?” That got the old man’s attention.

“Vara’s friend, Chad, let her take the fall for something and she’s in trouble.” Alec didn’t dare risk telling them everything.

“That—” Saul muttered incoherent words under his breath. They didn’t sound friendly or kind. “What kind of trouble is she in?”

“Lisa, you don’t want to hear this,” Alec said.

“She’s my daughter,” Lisa said in a cold voice that brokered no argument.

“She’s in bad trouble,” Alec said.

“With whom?” Saul asked.

“A guy named Kolya. Heard of him?” Alec dragged a hand over his face.

“Yes.” Saul blew out a breath. “Timeline. What’s happened? How long ago? And what’s he want?”

“Just before eleven we were en route to a meet. We were ambushed and Vara was taken. A few blocks away her tracker went offline, and we lost sight of the getaway car. Kolya wants some property Vara transported. Problem is he thinks she was also the thief.” Alec hoped that covered all their bases.

“I see,” Saul said. “Where did this happen?”

“Seattle.”

“Kolya won’t step foot inside the continental United States. He knows people are after him. He’ll have her brought to him.”

“Shit.” Alec closed his eyes.

“There’s a facility. An island really, in the Bering Sea. It was supposed to be a research facility, but it was never completed. Kolya purchased it and uses it as his base of operations heading into America. If Kolya wanted her alive, he’d take her there first.”

“That—that’s good.” Alec had a location now.

“It’s not. The facility is fortified for the harsh weather. If she gets there, you probably won’t see her again. Kolya is a dangerous man, loyal to only one thing.”

“I will see her again.” Nothing would separate Alec from Vara. Not when she was in his life again.

Five hours and fifteen minutes.

Alec would find her and he’d save her.

THURSDAY. UNKNOWN LOCATION.

Vara couldn’t feel her toes. Her feet were completely numb. The blanket they’d given her upon arriving at their destination was practically a lap blanket. Her head was foggy from lack of sleep and the bone chilling weather. Her stomach growled for food. Her mouth was dry. About the only positive was that she was no longer restrained.

The door to her room opened and Wyatt stood on the other side flanked by Ivan and tough guy she didn’t recognize.

“What do you want?” She still couldn’t wrap her head around Wyatt working with these guys.

“Come with us,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t have a choice. I also brought you these.” Wyatt tossed a pair of ballet flats on the floor.

They were a little worn, and she had to wonder where they’d come from. But Vara couldn’t be picky. There were two things she needed if she was going to make it out of here, shoes and a coat. Here was half of that solution.

“How about some water or something to eat?” Vara crossed the room, the blanket wrapped around her, and slid her feet into the shoes. Just that little bit of protection from the cold floor offered a good deal of relief.

“Be happy with what you get.” Wyatt grabbed the blanket and yanked it away.

“Hey.” Vara wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. The T-shirt she’d worn under the vest was thin.

“Move.” Wyatt jerked his head to the hall.

“Your new boss treating you well?” Vara hunched her shoulders, drawing in on herself, and stepped out of the room.

“This way.” Wyatt planted his hand against her back and steered her forward.

“Nice trip he gave you. Your room have a view as good as mine?”

Wyatt stared straight ahead.

The hall was drywall and concrete painted gray. The whole thing felt sterile and dead. They passed a few people, but for the most part the place seemed empty. A few signs indicated restrooms and emergency exits.

So not a lot of backup. Good to know.

Vara smelled food first.

They entered a room with an impressive exterior view. The trees framed the ground falling away to the ocean. She’d smelled it when they landed and bustled her off the plane. The waves had sounded so loud during the drive to the garage.  She could almost smell the pine.

Where were they?

The flight had taken hours.

Canada?

Russia?

No, she’d seen signs in English.

“Here.” Wyatt picked up a tray and set it on a table.

She glanced around the room, taking in the empty vending machines and kitchenette. Some sort of break room? How many turns had it taken them to get here? How far had they walked?

A red exit sign in the corner had all of her attention.

That door led outside.

Vara proceeded to the table. She eyed the sandwich and soup.

“You think we’d bring you all this way to kill you with a meal? Sit down.” Wyatt yanked the chair out.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

The anger coming off Wyatt was intense and aimed at her. Because he’d discovered she had other motives for working in Damascus? Because he’d gotten involved in this mess? Because people had died?

She needed to understand this. Maybe if she fixed things he’d help her.

Vara sat and picked up the bottle of water, drinking deeply first. Her stomach clenched at the coldness of it, but she was too thirsty to care.

The two enforcers sat at a table across the room between her and the door leading to the hall. Wyatt paced to the windows, blocking her escape outside.

“I know you’re angry at me, Wyatt. I’m sorry.” She took a bite of her sandwich and watched his reflection.

“Fuck you,” Wyatt spat.

She glanced at the enforcers engrossed in their phones. How much could she say?

Vara considered her options while she scarfed down the sandwich. They had a purpose for her and she was afraid she’d learn what that was very shortly.

A man stepped into the doorway, barking orders. Wyatt finally turned. He had less of a grasp on Russian than she did and Vara didn’t know what was going on.

“You.” The man pointed at Wyatt. “Leave.”

“Whatever,” Wyatt muttered and stalked out of the room.

Vara spooned up more soup. She needed as many calories and warmth as she could manage. These people would slip up and when they did she was getting out of here.

The newcomer said something to the enforcers, ignoring her.

A younger man in skinny jeans, a T-shirt with a flannel shirt thrown over it walked in, eyes on the ground, shoulders hunched. He had a laptop and the canvas bag she’d carried with her in the van.

Shit.

She didn’t even know what they’d put inside the package or what it was supposed to do. If they wanted her to operate the thing she was up a creek.

The young man said something to her.

“Sorry, I only speak English.” She smiled.

“Are you going to sit here?” the young man said slowly.

“Um.” Vara glanced around. “How about over there near the outlet?”

And closer to the exterior door.

The young man jerked his head and crossed to the table by the outlet. She twisted to watch him set up the laptop and hook what looked like a flashing square of metal to the computer.

Shit.

The three men on the other side of the room rose and ambled toward the door.

Seriously?

Vara got up, downing the soup, and tucked the water bottle under her arm. She closed the distance between her and the kid. A glance over her shoulder provided only shadows.

They weren’t watching.

She crossed to the window, right next to the door.

Did she make a move?

If she had to pretend at the laptop, she wasn’t going to fool anyone.

“Vara Price,” a man said.

She turned and stared into the eyes of a man accustomed to killing.

Kolya Sokolov.

“Are you or are you not Djinn?” He took a few steps into the room. His designer shoes and suit were out of place.

Vara continued to say nothing.

“For your sake, I hope you are. This was supposed to be delivered this to my people weeks ago. You will complete the job. How well you do determines how long you live. Understand?” Kolya gestured to someone behind him then turned and stalked out of the room.

Shit.

She took a step back, running into the glass.

There was no way she could do anything with that tech. It wasn’t even the right piece.

An enforcer closed in on her. He had his weapon tucked under his arm in a holster, the snap undone. He reached for her arm, she reached for the gun. As she drew it, she fired, hitting the man square in the chest.

“Fuck,” she spat and back pedaled.

She shoved at the door. It groaned. She shoved again and lurched outside. The chilly air and the smell of pine had her head buzzing. Or maybe that was the fire alarm going off.

Vara ducked her head and sprinted for all she was worth.

THURSDAY. PRIVATE ISLAND, Bering Sea.

Wyatt whirled at the sound of gunfire.

One shot.

They hadn’t killed her, had they?

He was running before he realized it, sprinting down the hall toward the break room. He skidded through the door, bumping into Ivan.

A man Wyatt sort of recognized lay on the floor bleeding out.

The computer geek was frozen to the spot, watching blood creep toward him.

Kolya stood in the doorway leading to the outside yelling in Russian.

“Where is she?” Wyatt snarled. Kolya had promised him Vara.

Outside men ran past.

“You let her get away?” Wyatt’s vision hazed red.

It was an island. They had one job, to get her talking, and they couldn’t do that.

He stalked across the room and shoved past Kolya.

“Which way did she go?” Wyatt demanded.

“Stay inside,” Kolya said.

“You let her get away.” Wyatt turned and glared at the Russian mob boss. This was ill advised, and yet he couldn’t rein it in.

“It’s a small island. They’ll find her.”

“Before or after her CIA or whatever pals get here?” Wyatt shook his head. “I’ll find her.”

He turned his back on Kolya and tugged the zipper of his jacket higher.

Kolya said something in Russian. Wyatt caught Ivan’s name a few moments before the other man caught up with him.

“This is unnecessary,” Ivan said.

“Yeah?” Wyatt glanced at the man. “What kind of tracking experience do you have?”

“The island is small. She can’t go far.”

“Distance doesn’t matter if she finds somewhere to hide and wait. I don’t believe for a minute people aren’t looking for her. Besides, Vara knows what she’s doing out there. We were smugglers for fucks sake.”

Most of their business involved bribing the right person with the right incentive. But sometimes they’d had to cross the border at illegal points, cover their trail and hide to avoid getting caught. Vara knew what she was doing and that worried Wyatt. She was motivated. She had a gun. And she was the most resourceful bitch he’d met.

If there was a way off the island, she’d find it.

He didn’t plan on allowing that to happen.

Two men stood just under the trees, their heads swinging back and forth.

“What the fuck are they doing?” Wyatt sighed.

Ivan called out. The men replied and Ivan said something else.

“They saw her here, but don’t know where she’s gone,” he said.

“Of course not,” Wyatt mumbled.

He slowed as they reached the men, looking at the ground, the way the grass lay and any indication the blanket of pine needles had been disturbed.

She’d probably bolted from the building to here, then realized she’d made it. She’d be more careful now, but she wasn’t a ghost. She would leave a trail. He just had to be patient enough to find it.

He paced the ground for several moments before he saw a small indention in the pine needles. The ground under it was dry. It had rained that morning. Which meant something—her toe or heel—had disturbed the ground to push down into the earth under the ground cover.

“Gotcha,” Wyatt muttered. “This way.”

It was slow going. The farther they got from the building the more careful Vara could get, which in turn made Wyatt’s job tougher giving her more of a lead on them.

“Where is she?” Ivan demanded after an hour of crawling along.

“Over there behind that tree.” Wyatt nodded to their left.

Ivan didn’t even glance away from Wyatt. “I’m losing patience.”

“Yeah, well, so am I,” Wyatt snarled. “Your people let her get a gun. Your people let her get away. So excuse me if I don’t give a fuck about your patience. She knows what she’s doing out here.”

He turned in a circle.

What are you up to, Vara?

Wyatt glanced at the facility to their left and then at her last sign of movement.

She wasn’t hiding. What was she doing?

“Give me an answer.” Ivan aimed his gun at Wyatt.

“She’s not hiding, and she’s not trying to get away.” Wyatt swallowed.

Did she want them following her?

Was this a trap?

“Maybe she’s running from someone,” Ivan said.

“No. Look.” Wyatt knelt and brushed away the pine needles. “This is the building. This is the island. This is the path we’ve taken around your setup. This part? Where she made a straight line from the doors to the trees that makes sense. She was headed toward the water, which is a logical point of escape. But she never got to the water. She cut left, going west and now she’s circling us.”

He blinked at the map he’d drawn in the dirt.

Hell.

“How many men are out here looking for her?” Wyatt pushed to his feet and directed his stare at Ivan.

“I don’t know.” His nose wrinkled at that answer.

“Find out?” Wyatt wiped his hands on his thighs. “We should split up and walk twenty, thirty yards apart.”

Vara, Vara, Vara. Are you doing what I think you’re doing?

“There are a dozen men out looking for her, not including us.” Ivan hung up his phone. “We will not split up.”

“Fine. Have it your way. Let’s keep going.”

Wyatt got up and proceeded in the same direction Vara had been leading them.

They found the first body thirty yards later, throat slashed, cold to the touch, stripped of his coat, gun, boots and phone. Judging by the wounds she’d surprised the man, hit him in the head and taken him down from there.

She had two guns now.

He was willing to bet the forest would be littered with bodies. A woman like her, backed into a corner, would be a dangerous thing. She’d probably caught her breath, had a plan, and with a phone she might even have signaled for help.

Ivan spoke to the other two men, issuing clipped orders. They turned toward the main building and Ivan glared at Wyatt.

“What?”

“They’re going to get a vehicle to take the body in. We’ll continue.”

“You checked in with your buddies out here?” Wyatt was curious how many of that twelve were alive.

“Find her,” Ivan snapped.

“I’ll do my best.” Wyatt held up his hands.

If Vara was trying to thin them out, he could better guess at where she was headed. He cut through, staying on higher ground, looking for vantage points. There were small signs that someone had passed this way, signs that would have taken him a long time to find and follow. Anticipating her was far better.

The second body was a hundred yards later.

They found two phones with him, no gun and no coat. She’d also taken the man’s belt.

Ivan cursed in at least two languages that Wyatt could identify, maybe more.

“We find the bitch,” Ivan snarled.

“That’s what I’d like to do.” Wyatt smiled back.

They made it three quarters of the way back around the building and found two more dead bodies before the light faded to the point Wyatt couldn’t make out her path. But the last body told him what he needed to know.

She only took his bullets.

Whatever she wanted she had, and she was going to ground.

They might never find her out there.

VARA PULLED THE BRANCHES together and shoved the debris around to block the hole she’d shimmied through. Camping out on the beach wasn’t ideal, but she’d needed a way to travel that didn’t give her up. The rocky shore was her friend and the huge knot of driftwood up against the tree line her best option since braving the northern shores of the island.

Dug into the warren of branches and debris, she used her three spare coats to create a nest for herself in the near darkness. She couldn’t risk a fire and she had no flashlight. The sum of her supplies included five guns, some extra bullets, two knives, two pairs of boots, some granola bars and her bottle of water.

She hadn’t seen any kind of animal other than a few birds on her cross-island hike. If there weren’t animals here, she’d starve. But she doubted she’d make it that long.

Wyatt was looking for her. She knew he would be. And out here he was far more dangerous to her than the mobsters. If someone didn’t come for her soon, Wyatt would find her and she doubted she’d be able to get away again.

Kolya must be threatening Wyatt’s family. That has always been Wyatt’s weakness. The thing he cared about. Vara couldn’t fault him for that. She understood it. Respected it. But she wasn’t going to die for them.