“This isn’t a hurricane,” Breck said, coming out of the office. “Have you seen Scarlet? Did she take the van?” He looked from one to the other, picking up on the urgency of the situation. “What’s going on?”
“We don’t know who took the van,” Tex said.
“But whoever it is, they’ve got Jenny,” Travis told him, gnashing his teeth.
“I can’t feel her,” Laura said in anguish. “Not… not quite like before, it’s a little different. Like there’s cotton between us.”
“Yes,” Travis said, glad for her words to put what he was feeling into context. “That’s exactly what it’s like.”
Breck looked from one to the other in growing alarm. “Kidnapped? Who would kidnap her?”
“Fred?” Tex suggested.
“He’s still in prison,” Laura said, shaking her head. “This feels more like the cartel’s M.O.”
“The cartel?” Breck asked in disbelief.
“It’s a long story,” Laura said.
“There was a last-minute guest who arrived yesterday who looks the part,” Breck suggested. “Southern Californian for sure, lots of scars and tattoos.”
“Mr. Muscles with the suitcases of lead,” Tex said, snapping his fingers.
“Why are we not going after them already?” Travis asked, snarling.
“We couldn’t catch them now,” Tex cautioned. “They’re halfway to the airport, and none of us are distance runners in either form.”
“Who would send a plane in this weather?” Breck scoffed. “The regular charter got cancelled. Anyway, take the Jeep.”
The others looked at him with sudden hope. “It’s running?”
“A little rough,” Breck said with false modesty. “I’ve still got to rebuild the carburetor one of these days...”
Travis was already pushing past him to where it was parked. “I’ll drive,” he said.
Chapter 22
The wings of the plane tore off as if they’d been made of paper when it hit the ocean. It made a terrible ripping sound even louder than the roaring wind, and the fuselage sank with a rush of bubbles and screaming metal.
Jenny and Wrench watched in astonishment.
“We should see if anyone survived,” she said, finally. “They might need help.”
Wrench squinted at her. “You do realize that they were here to drag you back to the cartel.”
Jenny glared back at him. “I’m not saying that they aren’t terrible people, but they are still people. Drowning is a horrible way to go, and I should know it.”
Wrench tried to stare her down. “It’s not like you can shift yet,” he said.
Jenny closed her eyes and reached down inside of her. Her otter wriggled to greet her, eager to breach the prison she’d been trapped in.
If she concentrated… just like so… she could almost feel the barrier keeping them apart. And if she could just burn it away, she could shift again, and sense Laura again, and reach Travis. Travis. She longed for his touch, his comfort. Even just knowing that he was there.
Something Gizelle had said to her bubbled out of her memory. Much of what she said was rambling and disjointed, and Jenny had learned to filter out some of the more absurd statements, but something the gazelle shifter had said about power stuck with her.
“There is power below you, if you can reach it,” Gizelle had told her. “Sunlit caverns with no sky.” She’d been talking about the power required for shifting, but Jenny had to wonder.
The sky above them now was dark and weirdly hard to see, even to Jenny’s enhanced otter sight, and Jenny wondered if she imagined the power that crackled between sky and island. They felt… connected, as if the island itself had drawn the storm to it.