Into the Lair (Falcon Mercenary Group #2)(35)

Ian shook his head. His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Katie?” he said hoarsely. “Is she okay?” His expression became more intense as he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.

Braden reached out to steady Ian, but his brother shook him off.

“What happened, Braden? Where’s Katie?”

“Get in the truck,” Braden said firmly. “We’ll talk there. We’ve got to get the hell out of here. Katie has the tracking device on her. We’ll find her.”

Ian drew up short when he saw the SUV. Before he could form the inevitable question, Braden shoved him into the seat.

Seconds later, Braden climbed behind the wheel and looked over at Ian. Then he reached into the backseat for one of the duffel bags and dragged it into the front.

“At the rate you’re running through clothing, we’re both going to be butt-assed naked.”

Ian cracked a small grin, and Braden relaxed. If Ian could smile then things weren’t too bad.

As he awkwardly started pulling on his clothing in the confined space of the SUV, Braden started the engine.

“We don’t have much time so we need to talk fast and piece together what the hell happened back there.”

Ian pulled a T-shirt over his head and stared at Braden with haunted eyes. “I was driving and talking to Katie and then wham. Out of nowhere we got broadsided. Before I could react we got hit again. I was pinned under the dash.”

He absently rubbed at his legs as he spoke, and Braden, remembering the crushed front end, could understand why. It was a miracle his legs hadn’t been broken.

“Some guy, I’m assuming one of Ricardo’s men, yanked Katie out of her door. I tried to get free, and I remember thinking that shifting was my best hope. After that I don’t know.”

“You killed Ricardo,” Braden said grimly. “He had his throat torn out. No human did that to him.”

Ian’s jaw tightened. “I can’t say I regret it. Bastard deserved to die. But what about Katie?”

Braden shook his head. “I don’t know, man. Get the satellite out and see if she shows up. No way she could have gone more than three hundred miles, so she’ll be in our radius. I’d say no more than half an hour has passed since the wreck. One of the guys was still alive when I found him. Took a bullet to the gut.”

Ian’s gaze sharpened. “But how?”

“Katie. That’s how. Another guy had his gray matter smeared all over the truck. I’m telling you, some crazy shit went down out there.”

“So, Ricardo is dead along with at least two other guys. If I killed Ricardo, then that means Katie got to the others. And if that’s the case, where the f**k is she now?”

Braden gestured toward the bag. “You track, I’ll drive.”

Ian fumbled with the equipment while Braden drove deeper into the woods searching for an outlet that didn’t lead right back to the road littered with dead bodies.

Braden glanced over to see Ian’s expression darken and his jaw tighten.

“What’s eating you, man?”

Ian gave a quick negative shake of his head as he opened the small unit and powered it up. Then he dragged a hand though his hair and turned to Braden, consternation and loathing in his eyes.

“I don’t regret taking Ricardo apart, Braden, but what if it had been someone else? What if it had been you? Or Katie.”

“It wasn’t,” Braden said simply. And really, what else could he say? He didn’t have the answers, and he wasn’t going to spout some bullshit about how Ian would never hurt him, because shit, what the jag did was completely independent of Ian.

Ian sighed.

“Are you hurt from the crash?” Braden asked.

Ian shook his head. “Sore, but I don’t know if it’s from the wreck or the shift. You?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Head hurts like a bitch but then I’ve had a headache since the day I laid eyes on Katie Buchanan.”

“I hope to hell I got to Ricardo before he hurt her,” Ian said softly.

“You got a bead on her yet?”

Ian glanced back down at the handheld unit then frowned. “Yeah. Close.” He looked up and out the window. “Maybe a mile. She’s not moving.”

Braden cursed. “Steer me. Where am I going?”

“We need to head due east.”

Braden slammed on the brakes and surveyed the landscape. No way they were going to make it in the truck. Hell. With a sigh he opened the door and got out.

He grabbed two rifles and tossed one over the hood at Ian. Ian was moving slow, but if turtles had guns no one would bitch about their speed.

They took off into the woods, moving in the direction of the tracking device. According to Ian, she hadn’t budged since he’d locked on to her location, which couldn’t be good given her propensity for running like a scalded cat.

Two hundred yards in, Ian pulled up sharply and turned in a circle, his gaze raking over the area.

“Here,” he said. “It says she’s here.”

Braden shook his head. “She ditched the device, man. We’re flying blind now.”

“Maybe not,” Ian muttered as he squatted down and touched his finger to a leaf. He pulled it back up and held it out to Braden.

Blood. Fresh blood. Shit.

Ian stood, shoved the locator in his pocket and hauled his gun up. Head down, he followed the blood trail further into the woods. Braden took off after him, his gut tight as he noticed just how much blood was spattered on the ground.