“Who are you?” Daphne stared Tansy down while edging her way to the door, keeping her back to the wall.

Tansy could hardly blame the girl for the mistrust after what she’d been through today.

“A friend of your Dad’s.”

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“We were friends a long time ago. He hired me to find you. I have certain . . . skills.”

“Yeah?” Daphne cocked her head to the side, regarding her skeptically. “Like what?”

“Finding missing people,” Tansy hedged. “I’ve helped police with numerous cases over the years.”

“Are you like a detective?”

“Not at all.” Goddess forbid. Unless you categorized her as a psychic detective that operated in the metaphysical realm. A reluctant tugging curled the edges of her mouth. Most of the cops she’d worked with came to her as a last resort, and even when she helped solve a case, they attributed it to luck or something “strange” that they didn’t want to analyze too closely.

“Then what are you?”

Tansy sighed, worried her answer would frighten Daphne even more, although her sister Ruby had taken it all in stride. “I’m a witch with a certain talent for locating lost objects and people.”

Daphne flattened out even more against the wall and glanced out the door.

“I’m perfectly harmless,” she assured the girl.

Headlights strobed through the cabin. Icy pricks of dread scurried like a nest of spiders down Tansy’s back and arms.

Daphne cried out and tugged at her shorn locks. “They're here for me. We’re trapped.”

“Your dad called security for backup. It must be them. Get behind me.” Drake had placed responsibility for his daughter’s life in her hands. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him down.

As the black sedan roared its way right to the cabin door and screeched to an abrupt halt, dread intensified to fear. It’s just Drake’s people. Still, she drew the gun as a precaution.

Daphne’s gaze whipped from the gun to Tansy’s face. “What are you doing? I thought you said—”

“Can’t be too safe,” she cautioned, stepping in front of the girl.

Charles Stanley, and another man she recognized from earlier this morning, exited the sedan. The set of Charles’ face was grim, his eyes fierce. An evil miasma emanated from the man’s soul, this time Tansy was sure of it. It clawed at her throat, thick as smoke. All pretense and control had vanished from the man’s aura, stripped raw to reveal his true character.

“Charlie!” Daphne broke into a smile and skirted around Tansy.

“No. Stop!” She tried to clutch Daphne’s arm, but Daphne was too fast. Already, the girl was halfway across the porch, eager to run to a familiar face.

Go deep within and find wisdom. The years of witchcraft training—of learning to slightly manipulate time and space, of standing courageous and accessing her own power—Tansy called on everything she’d studied and practiced. Time slowed to a series of still frames, a slow drip of sensations.

One. Charles’ accomplice leveled a gun straight at Tansy’s chest, his trigger finger drawing back.

Two. A wolfish grin split Charles’ face as he opened his arms for Daphne.

Three. From the back of the cabin, an anguished rumble of noise erupted. Drake somehow knew of this latest danger. Kill or be killed. Tansy dropped to her knees and fired off a round at the gunman.

Four, five, six. A loud pop. Acrid smoke. Hot metal seared the palm of her right hand and she dropped the gun.

Charles’ accomplice fell to the ground. Underlying the smoke scent, a coppery note emerged—blood. But whose? Hers, his or both? Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Tansy scrambled to her feet, throwing herself between the startled, gawking Daphne and Charles’ outstretched arm which latched onto Daphne’s oversized T-shirt and pulled.

She wedged between him and his prize. “Bitch,” he hissed in her ear. Cloth ripped, loud as the gun pops moments earlier.

Daphne backed away from them, clutching what was left of the torn shirt. Charles grabbed Tansy’s arm, hard enough that she feared her bone would snap. From the side of the cabin, a wall of fire roared. Orange light illuminated the abandoned campground.

“What the fuck?” Charles snarled. Yet his grasp on her arm never loosened as he lunged again for Daphne.

Drake’s daughter stared at the fire, as though transfixed.

“Run, Daphne!” Tansy screamed.

To her immense relief, Daphne took off in the opposite direction of the fire. Drake would find her. Poor kid was in for the scare of her life though if Drake didn’t shift back to human form before he caught up with her.

Charles jerked her toward the sedan’s open door. It had been careless of her to drop the gun. Desperately, Tansy tried to pull away and reach for the gun laying a mere four feet away. The still form of the accomplice, strewn in front of the sedan, didn’t move. Blood seeped through his polo shirt, staining the Drake Evers Enterprises logo. Had she killed the man? The question skittered in and then out of her mind. She’d worry about that particular atrocity later.

Tansy tried to twist out of Charles’ iron grasp and kicked at his shins, but he acted impervious to her assault. As a last resort, she slumped her weight against him and dug her heels in the dirt.

She barely slowed his determined effort to force her into the sedan. With a final, violent yank, Charles got in the car, dragging her body alongside him. He started the engine and hit the accelerator—the passenger door still open, his hold on her arm unshaken.

“Okay, okay, you win,” Tansy cried. “You can let go of me now.”

“Shut the door.”

She considered jumping out, but he’d picked up speed and never let go of her arm. Pain radiated from her forearm in all directions, nearly unbearable. She’d do anything to relieve that pain. Tansy managed to grab the door handle and shut it.

Abruptly, Charles released his hold and she slumped against the cold metal frame, resting her head against the window and rubbing the tender flesh of her arm. She looked back toward the cabin, but it was again veiled in darkness. At least Daphne was safe. Tansy faced her tormentor.

“What do you want with me?”

“I didn’t want you, bitch. I wanted Daphne. Would have been successful too—if you hadn’t come along. You fucking ruined everything.”

“Face it, you failed. You’ll only make things worse if you don’t let me go.”

“You must be worth something.” Disdain curled his lips as he scanned her body before again directing his attention to the road.

“I’m not important to Drake Evers. Your extortion scheme is over. Let me go now, and it may go better for you with the police.”

His hands tightened on the wheel and he pulled the sedan onto the county road. “I can use you for a negotiating tool with the cops should it become necessary. Besides, there may be money in this yet. Drake will pay to get you back. Not as much he would for his daughter, but I need to get something out of this.”

“You’re wrong. I’m worth nothing to him. He hired me to find his daughter and I did. He’s under no further obligation to me.”

“Evers is nothing if not conscientious. He’ll feel duty-bound to do the right thing by you. And I did a little checking around. Apparently, the two of you were hot and heavy years ago. He’s an arrogant bastard, but it’s possible he holds some old affection for you.”

Did he? She considered his response to her kiss. Drake’s arousal was obvious, but it was only a physical reaction. And he’d been grateful for her help, as he would be to anyone who helped find Daphne. No, there was no reason to make more of it than the facts supported. But Charles had one thing correct—Drake was an honorable man. It wouldn’t sit well with him that she’d been captured trying to help his daughter. And he for damn sure would want to exact revenge on this trusted employee who’d betrayed him in the worst possible way.

Tansy straightened in her seat and again glanced out the back-door window. Opaque blackness coated the night, as if she and Charles were the last people on earth.

So, where was Drake when she needed him?