MAXIMILIAN MACMILLAN FELT Grace’s nightmare before her startled gasp pulled him completely from sleep. He heard the rustle of sheets as she climbed off the bed and sat up. “Grace?”

He watched her walk toward the hallway and called out a few more times, but she didn’t answer, so he followed her. She padded through their private sitting room and into her walk-in closet, heading straight for her jewelry box.

“Baby?” he whispered.

She still didn’t acknowledge him, so he watched and waited. She pulled out the pearl bracelet Charlotte had given her to wear on their wedding day. Charlotte had an identical one, and Grace often wore it when she was missing her best friend, which was almost every day. Grace closed her eyes as she gently caressed the jewelry. When she opened her eyes, she let out a quiet squeak and dropped the jewelry.

“Baby?”

Grace glanced at Max. “Hi.”

He smiled. “Hi.”

Her gaze swept the space and she frowned. “What am I doing in my closet?”

“I think you were sleepwalking.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “I think something’s wrong.”

Max closed the distance between them, picking up the dropped pearls and handing them to her. “Tell me.”

Grace waved the bracelet in the air. “Charlotte. Something’s wrong with Charlotte. I think. Or maybe something’s really, really right? Damn it, I can’t figure it out. I just... feel... so, ah... something. Maybe I’m just crazy.”

Grace had the gift of physical empathy, which meant she could be drawn to certain objects or places, and could also become emotionally charged when walking into a room or entering a town or a country. The trick was knowing if the emotions were positive or negative.

“I doubt you’re crazy, baby. Perhaps Niall has bound her.”

“Oooh, do you think?” Grace asked hopefully.

“It’s possible. Although, I’d feel it, so it’s probably not that.” Max wrapped his arms around his mate and ran his hands over her back. “Instead of flying home tomorrow, let’s head to the States.”

“But Niall has the plane,” Grace said, and then giggled. “If you’d told me a year ago that complaint would come out of my mouth, I would have smacked you.”

“I’m sure Connall will let me borrow his. And if not, then we’ll fly commercial.”

“You’d do that for me?” Her eyes widened. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Aye, love. It’s not like I’ve never flown commercial.”

She smiled. “Sometimes you amaze me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re willing to get on a crowded plane in order to make me happy.”

“Haven’t you figured out that I’ll do anything to make you happy?”

She looped her hands around his neck and ran her hands through his hair. “I’m starting to.”

He kissed her. “Besides, I didn’t say it would be crowded, love. Let’s be honest, I’d buy out first class.”

“You would not.” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s such a waste of money.”

“What’s the alternative?”

“Just dealing with it.”

He lifted her off her feet. “I’ve got entirely too much money to have to ‘deal with it.’”

She giggled, leaning down to kiss his nose as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “I keep forgetting about that.”

“Now,” he said, and slipped his hand under her top, “you’re wearing my favorite lingerie, and I’d like to peel it off you and take you back to bed.”

Grace lowered her feet to the floor and pulled the cami over her head with a grin. “Race ya.”

* * *

After almost thirty hours and three stops for gas later, there was still no sign of Vandi. They’d driven as far south as Eugene and as far north as Yakima, and Charlotte was officially beginning to worry. Her exhaustion from lack of sleep over the weekend and her refusal to rest while in the car wasn’t helping with her moodiness either.

“I’m taking you home,” Niall said.

She scowled. “I’m not getting on a plane right now, Niall.”

“Your home, love.”

“What? Why?” She groaned. “I’m so confused.”

“I know, love. It’s because you’re exhausted. We’ve checked every place you can think of that she might go... twice. It’s time for you to be with your family and let me take over the task of finding her.”

She burst into tears. “What if she really has been taken? I know I say she irritates the crap out of me, but she’s my only sister, and I love her to death.”

“I know, baby. Come here.” He unbuckled her seatbelt and pulled her onto his lap. “We will find her, Charlotte. I promise you that. We have resources most people can’t begin to fathom, and I will use them all.”

She nodded against his chest, her tears soaking his shirt.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Sleep, baby. We’ll be home soon.”

* * *

Bruce pulled up to Charlotte’s home twenty minutes later and parked the car. Several police vehicles lined the street, along with two black SUVs that appeared to be government official.

“Charlotte? We’re home, love.”

She mumbled incoherently, but didn’t wake up. Bruce opened the car door and Niall slid out with Charlotte still in his arms. She didn’t stir again, which indicated to Niall that she was much more tired that she originally let on. He followed Bruce to the front door and waited while he rang the doorbell.

Candice yanked open the door and gasped. “What happened?”

“She’s been awake for more than a day,” Niall said softly. “She’s exhausted. Any updates on Vandi?”

Candice shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. “No. I take it you didn’t have any luck either?”

“No, ma’am. I’m sorry about that.”

“Well, come in. We have a full house.”

Niall glanced at Bruce, who nodded, indicating the house was safe temperature-wise. One of the reasons Bruce was valued—one of many, really, was that he could determine the temperature of a building within seconds. That ability had kept their band from a few dangerous situations over the years.

Niall stepped inside and into the front room. He laid Charlotte on the sofa and faced her mother. “I’ll join you in a bit, Mrs. Whitmore. I’ll just make sure Charlotte’s comfortable.”

“Oh, right. That’s very thoughtful. Come back to the kitchen when you can.”

“Thank you.” He waited for Charlotte’s mother to leave the room and heard her explaining to whoever was there that it was just Charlotte. He knelt beside his mate and stroked her cheek. “Charlotte? Wake up, love.”

She gasped and sat up, still not fully awake. “Vandi.”

Niall grabbed her hands. You need to wake up, sweetheart. We’re home.

Charlotte blinked, squeezing his hands and then sighing. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, and smiled. “Yer mum’s in the kitchen. I believe there are several policemen here and perhaps FBI.”

She glanced around the front room. “Why am I in here?”

“I didn’t think you’d want them to see you being carried in by your incredibly strong and good-looking fiancé.”

She snorted, and kissed him quickly. “Thank you for that. Any word on Vandi?”

“Nothing so far, but let’s go see what they’ve found, eh?”

She nodded, standing and checking her image in the hall mirror. She grimaced and slipped a hair band from her jeans pocket, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. She took her ring off her finger and slipped it into her pocket and faced Niall. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Niall laid his hand on her lower back and followed her to the kitchen. A tall man who looked quite a bit like the male version of Vandi, stood from his place at the table and rushed to Charlotte, wrapping his arms around her. “Hey, Button.”

“Hi, Da—ah, Dad.”

He released her briefly and then hugged her again.

“Stop.” Charlotte pushed him away, then added, “Please.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m just so happy to see you.” He stared at her for a few seconds and then glared at her mother. “You told her?” he snapped.

“I didn’t have much of a choice!” Candice said.

“We were going to do that together,” Matthew Whitmore snapped. “This is just like you to ruin everything.”

“Oh, that’s great, Matt. Blame me for everything. That’s your M.O. anyway, right?”

“You’re the one who cheated!” he bellowed.

Candice’s face contorted in horror, but she stood taller and shook her head furiously.

“Stop it! Both of you. This isn’t the time for you two to go at each other!” Charlotte reached for Niall’s hand, pulling him forward. “Dad, this is Niall.”

Charlotte’s father had dark blond hair and brown eyes. He was almost as tall as Niall, but much stockier. Niall would have guessed he might have been a brawler in his time.

Oh, my word, you have no idea. Mom said he’d fight anyone who pissed him off.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Whitmore,” Niall said.

“You too.” Her father shook his hand, sizing him up. “How do you know my daughter?”

Not sure ‘daughter’ is entirely accurate.

He’s still your father, love. Niall squeezed her hand before focusing back on her dad. “I’m Grace’s brother-in-law.”

“Ah, right,” he said. “Grace’s dad filled me in on all that business.”

“Okay, Matt. Enough grilling of the boyfriend.” Grace’s mother, Lila, gently pushed him aside and pulled Charlotte into a motherly embrace. “How are you? Hmm? Doing okay?”

“Outside of the fact that my sister’s missing and certain people seem to find keeping secrets perfectly acceptable, yes,” Charlotte ground out.

“I’m sorry, honey.” Lila sighed. “We’ll sort that out later. I promise.”

Charlotte shrugged, her irritation rising to the surface. Niall laid a palm across her back, calming her, but not completely.

Lila grasped her shoulders. “I called Gracie and told her what was happening. I had to leave a message, but I’m sure she’ll call as soon as she gets it.”

“Okay.” Charlotte pulled away.

“I’m really sorry, honey,” Lila said. “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

Charlotte blinked back tears and nodded. Niall slid his hand to the back of her neck and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her headache beat at him, and he did his best to massage it away.

“Niall, it’s lovely to see you again, even if the circumstances aren’t ideal,” Lila said.

He smiled. “You as well, Mrs. Wilson.”

“Can I get anyone coffee or something to eat?”

“Are you hungry?” Charlotte asked Niall.

“Aye, lass, I am.” His phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket. “Sorry. I need to take this, excuse me.”

Charlotte nodded. “I’ll help you, Lila.”

Niall glanced at his screen. The text from Oliver read: 911–call me ASAP

He stepped back into the relative privacy of the front room and called him. “Ollie? What’s wrong?”

“Fourteen, Nye. Only fourteen.”

Niall sighed. “I thought there were thirty.”

“As did I.”

“Bloody hell,” Niall snapped, and rubbed his forehead. “Where are they now?”

“Safe and being treated. But there’s more. One of the fourteen, Layla’s her name, said that some of them were divided. The younger ones were taken about a week ago, separated from the group. Layla says they overheard one of the men saying something about California. They think the men who took them were Russian, and all my research is leading to this Nikolai bastard.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bronwen says that there is a huge Russian mob presence in Portland, and they have their hands in pretty much anything that will make them money. They’re working closely with a local motorcycle gang, the Gresham Spiders, and with the Super Bowl looming, they’re desperate to meet the demand with girls.”

“Bloody degenerate bastards who think paying to sleep with little girls is entertainment,” Niall spat out.

“Aye, brother.” Oliver sighed. “I found out Nikolai’s last name, which doesn’t bode well for Charlotte’s sister.”

“What is it?”

“Azhishchenkov.”

“As in, the mob family Azhishchenkov?”

“Aye,” Oliver confirmed. “He’s a second cousin, twice removed or something like that, but he’s trying to start his own faction in Portland. He’s already got a reputation for being ruthless.”

“So, he has her then.”

“I don’t know for sure, Nye. But the fact that he even knows Vandi’s name puts her in danger for sure. She’s the right age for what he’s looking for.”

“Damn it.”

“Dalton’s on his way to you.”

“Good. When will he be here?”

“About six hours,” Oliver said. “He’s got Kade’s plane.”

Niall checked his watch. “Okay, I’ll send Bruce back to the hotel to sleep for a few hours and he can meet him.”

“Word of warning.”

“What?” Niall asked, dreading the answer.

“Max and Grace are with him.”

Niall ran a hand across his stubble. “Shite.”

“Sorry, brother.” Oliver chortled. “Are you going to be able to work without killing Max?”

“I’ll deal,” Niall said with a humorless chortle. “Charlotte needs Grace more than I need to feel comfortable right now.”

Oliver hummed in agreement. “Good answer. Okay, I’m going to catch a couple hours of sleep since I can’t do anything at the moment. But call me if you need me. Colleen’s tending to the girls, and we called in a couple of translators. We’ve got two Italians and three French girls who don’t speak a lick of English. I can help with the French... not so much with the Italian.”

“I’m with you on that one,” Niall said. “I’ll get the details from you once this mess is over.”

“No problem.”

“Thanks.” Niall hung up, sent a text to Bruce, and paced the room.

“What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked, carrying a tray laden with food. “I can feel your frustration.”

“I had some disappointing news.” Niall took the burden from her and set it on the coffee table.

“About Vandi?” She grabbed his arm. “What do you know?”

He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “Nothing about Vandi right at the moment.”

“But...?”

“There is some chatter that Nikolai’s part of the Russian mob.”

“What?” she gasped. “Seriously? And you think he’s done something to my sister?”

“Aye, love. I think he has her, which is why Dalton Moore is on his way from Scotland.”

Charlotte sagged against him and Niall wrapped his arms around her.

“If she’s messed up with the Russian mob, what’s going to happen to her?” she asked. “How do you know all of this, anyway?”

“The Super Bowl is a huge draw for traffickers, so everyone’s on high alert, watching for girls being shipped out of Europe and into the States. Our MI-6 contact, Bronwen Boyer, got intel that thirty girls were going to be shipped into England and then to California. Bronwen is an old friend of Payton’s, and she reconnected with her a little while ago. We discovered that our interests were similar, so we’ve been working with her and her team, mostly in an assistant role, as things come up. Oliver ran Nikolai by Bronwen and she knew exactly who he was.” He stroked her back. “Since we haven’t been able to locate your sister, I think we need to work on the assumption he has her.”

Charlotte nodded into his chest, tears once again streaming down her face. “Will he kill her?”

“I don’t think so, love. She’s more valuable alive.”

“That might be worse,” she rasped.

He lifted her chin. “I need you not to go there, sweetheart. I’ll no’ lie to you, but if this is too much, I’ll filter what I tell you. I can tell you everything as it happens, or only tell you when I know something about your sister in particular. Your choice.”

She nodded. “Filter, please.”

He wiped away her sadness and leaned down to kiss her, her lips soft from the tears. “Come and eat. I’ll no’ have you falling down from hunger.”

She nodded and flopped onto the sofa. Niall sat beside her and they ate in silence. When they were finished, he gathered the dishes and led Charlotte back to the family room, still without conversation. Computers and phones all lined the large dining table, and several agents monitored the screens. Charlotte’s parents were no longer in the room, but Lila was still present, her face etched with worry.

Niall set everything in the sink, frowning when Charlotte seemed to trip over her own feet. “You should go to bed, sweetheart.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I want to be awake in case there’s news.”

Lila stood from her seat on the family room sofa and joined them. “Charlotte. You look like you’re ready to fall over, honey. I forced your mom to take a sleeping pill and lie down, do I need to do the same to you?”

“Where’s my dad?” she asked.

“He ran to the store for coffee.”

“Oh.” Charlotte couldn’t stop a yawn and grimaced as she said, “Sorry.”

“That’s it, love. You need to go to bed,” Niall said.

“I agree with Niall,” Lila said. “It’s not healthy, Charlotte.”

Charlotte crossed her arms. “I’m not a child either of you can force to go to bed. If I want to stay awake, I will stay awake.”

Niall cocked his head. That doesn’t make you sound like a petulant child at all.

Suck it, Niall.

Lila raised her hands. “Sorry, hon. Sometimes I forget you’re not six anymore.”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped... none of this is your fault.”

Lila smiled. “None of it’s yours either, sweetheart.”

“How about I wake you if there’s any news,” Niall promised.

Charlotte glared up at him. “No.”

“Lord, you’re a stubborn woman,” he grumbled.

Lila settled her hands on her hips. “What about stretching out on the sofa in the front room, or in your dad’s old office, hmm? We can pull down the Murphy bed in there, and you’ll be close enough to grab if there’s news.”

Charlotte yawned again and sighed. “Fine. I’ll lie down on the couch.”

“I’ll get you some blankets,” Lila said. “I’m waiting for Garrett to relieve me, and then I’ll take the Murphy bed if you’re taking the couch.”

“I’ll get my own blankets, Lila,” Charlotte said. “But thanks,” she added, trying for a gentler approach, and followed Niall back to the front room. She grabbed blankets from the ottoman and flopped onto the sofa. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep.”

“We’ll both try, eh?” Niall sat on the sofa and waved her closer.

Charlotte stretched out, settling her head on his lap, and sighed as he wrapped the blankets around her. “You might be the best pillow ever.”

He chuckled. “I’m at your service, sweetheart.”

Leaning down, he kissed her cheek and then stroked her hair until she fell asleep. He set his phone on the side table and closed his eyes, trusting that Bruce or Oliver would call if they needed him. Charlotte whimpered, but Niall realized all too quickly, it wasn’t audible. She was entering into a nightmare and dragging him with her.

* * *

Niall watched as Charlotte stared out to sea. The slight breeze rippled her hair, and she tented her hand over her eyes to block the sun. She wore a white floral sundress tied in a halter fashion at her neck, her back bare, and the skirt flowing just below her knee. He was stunned by her beauty, particularly when she turned to the side and smiled. He watched her face in profile as her lips parted and she licked her lips, before gasping and covering her face with her hands.

“Charlotte?” he called, as he ran toward her, closing the distance.

“They’re coming,” she rasped. “They’re coming.”

“Who’s coming, baby?”

She pointed her finger and Niall watched in horror as what seemed like hundreds of Viking warriors of old ran toward them. Their leader had long blond hair, his chest was bare, and he carried a Hurstwic raised above his head, ready for attack.

Niall threw Charlotte to the ground as gently as possible, covering her body with his, waiting for death to come. Instead, the rumble of footsteps passed them by, the ground shaking from the force, as the giant men flew past them and disappeared into mist.

He sat up, pulling Charlotte into his lap and stroking her face. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled. “Hæ. Sástu pabba?” (Hi. Did you see my dad?)

“Nei, ástin. En ég sá kappa.” (No, love. But I saw the warrior.)

“Hvaða kappa??” (What warrior?)

“Þessi úr draumum þínum.” (The one from your dream.)

“Oh, him.” She giggled. “He’s so dramatic, isn’t he?” Her eyes closed again and her head fell back.

“Charlotte?” Awake now, Niall cradled her head and called her name again, but she was out cold, so he settled her against his chest and allowed sleep to finally take them both.