She’d had a plan in place. The minute she’d vanished from Cale’s sight, Mercer should have been alerted.
Her hand rose to her shoulder. The smallest spot of raised flesh was there, hiding her tracking device. Mercer had made sure she had the device implanted. When she’d vanished, he would have been notified immediately. He would have gotten a GPS lock on her—he would have sent in his men....
And then the Executioner could have been taken down.
The plan had seemed so perfect, mostly because the only threat had been to her.
But now Cale was a hostage with her. He was wounded, and he was about to launch himself at the men coming down the stairs.
Four men were rushing toward them. Cale just had that broken glass. He couldn’t defeat them all.
He doesn’t have to defeat them. Mercer will have learned about my abduction by now—the other agents who’d worked with Cale would have reported to him. So Mercer had probably already started tracking her.
Cale didn’t have to risk his life.
All they had to do was keep their captors distracted.
I have to keep Cale alive.
Because while the Executioner might be planning to use her, Cale would be disposable to him.
And if Cale came out of that darkness fighting...
His body was tense. Ready to spring out and attack.
Cassidy couldn’t let him do it.
She couldn’t let him risk himself that way.
She ran away from him, racing toward the stairs.
“Cassidy!” Cale shouted.
But he hadn’t been prepared for her move. So he couldn’t stop her.
She nearly collided with a man in a black ski mask.
His hands flew out and locked around her.
The chunk of glass fell from her fingers. “Please don’t hurt him!”
The man’s fingers tightened around her, and he yanked her against him, spinning her so that her back pressed against his chest. “Why ever not?” His voice was deep, rumbling, terrifying. “I enjoy hurting people.”
But the Executioner had never taken a man hostage. In all the time that she’d been following him, he’d never picked a male for his prey.
Until now.
“It was a mistake. You wanted me, not him.” Her breath was ragged, and the trembling in her voice wasn’t an act. The fear was real. “You’ve got me. Let him go.”
Cale had lunged forward. He waited now, at the foot of the stairs, his hands clenched into fists. The light from the top of the stairs barely illuminated him.
“I’m not letting him go. Your hero nearly ruined everything for me.” Her captor’s breath blew over her ear. “So I’m going to make sure he suffers.”
“No!” Cale suffering wasn’t part of the plan. “You have me—let him go!”
“Get him,” the man said to the others as he climbed back up the stairs, pulling Cassidy with him.
The bodies of the other men shoved against her as they ran for Cale.