And Kimball had to be still furious about Nate’s desperate gambit a few months ago. Drawing him and his henchmen out to hammer Elisa’s homicidal boyfriend. Bugfuck crazy, but it was a slick move, and it had worked out for Nate and Elisa. By pure, blind, shithouse luck. So far, anyhow.
But the upshot was that now Kimball was even more primed to punish them. He had GodsEye under constant surveillance. He had a huge budget, an army of killer goons to call on. And the cutting edge murder-drones that had shot up Elisa’s ex.
And now here was this curly-headed, honey-skinned girl with dark mysterious eyes, trotting down the hill toward the excavation pit, lush tits bouncing cheerfully. Like she had absolutely no clue where she was, or who was watching.
She shrugged off her knapsack again and dug around inside it, pulling out a device about as long as her hand. She stood still, fiddling with it, and then started walking slowly, steadily toward the excavation pit, holding the device in front of her.
A sensor. She was following an electronic signal with it. Oh fuck.
His heart revved wildly. What fucking signal was that? Where did she get it? What was she looking for? And if he was asking those questions, it was a damn sure thing that Kimball was asking them, too. At the same exact moment.
Possibility A) She belonged to Kimball, and needed to be stopped and questioned immediately. Or…possibility B) She had no clue, and she needed to be rescued right now. Before she got herself captured, tortured and killed.
Either way, he had to stop her. And he was in no mood to play nice.
Cait tossed aside a few armfuls of tree boughs that the wind had blown up against the big, closed off entryway into the muddy excavation site. The place was plastered with big red signs. Do Not Enter. Danger. Falling Rocks. Danger of Collapse.
No one had been here since the winter snows had started to melt. Based on the drifts of brushwood that storms had blown up against the wall, and the sediment from the huge puddle, almost a pond, that filled the lower parts of that excavated hole. It must have been buried in meters of snow over the winter.
Ping. There it was, the spaced out call from the long-range beacon, wherever it was. It only came every two minutes. Her heart rate speeded yet again.
Dad’s coordinates were right on. So close—but still nothing.
Stuff had happened here, for sure. Dramatic stuff, but it had happened a long time ago. Maybe she’d missed everything relevant. Nobody cared anymore, judging from the scattered garbage. The remoteness. The place was utterly empty. Deserted.
Which was great. Fine by her if no one noticed or cared. That way she didn’t have to fight anybody for permission, or waste breath explaining herself.
Not that she had anything to explain, at least not yet. Just a handful of disconnected dots, and no way to pull them together. X marks the spot. GPS coordinates that Dad had left on that notepad that he’d stuck in that safe deposit box, the one she’d finally gained access to, after fourteen years. He’d written down a frequency, and he’d left this handheld sensor. That was all she had.
A few random dots. The contents of the box—and a father who had suddenly disappeared fourteen years ago, leaving her burning with the need for answers.
That ping that the sensor heard—maybe it would lead to at least another breadcrumb. But looking at the shored up cavern mouth, she had a sinking feeling that whatever might once have been there, by now a big chunk of the mountain had fallen down on top of it.
And hundreds of tons of broken rock would be a depressing setback.
The tarp and wood blocking the entrance into the cavern had been weighted down with cinderblocks and rocks, but they could be moved, with effort. She heaved and rolled the rocks until she was able to wiggle a big plank in there and levered a space loose on the side, opening up a sliver of darkness behind the tarp.
She squirmed inside, feeling the stretchy synthetic fabric of her clothes snag and rip on the rough spots, but she made it past the entrance.
Inside was absolute darkness. Cait sniffed the clammy smell of damp earth, mold, wishing she’d brought a flashlight, or one of those headlamp mirrors that spelunkers used. Next time…if there was a next time. That ceiling above her could fall down on her head with no warning. And no one on earth would ever know what had happened to her. This place would be her tomb.
Worth it. She was so hungry to know what had happened to Dad. Why he had vanished. She was willing to face the risks.
Mom had been tormented, too. Up to the very moment of her death. Wherever Mom was now, out there in the great Unknown, Cait only hoped that she had somehow finally had her questions answered. That they’d been answered to her satisfaction. That Mom was safe, content. Finally reunited with the man she loved.
Dad had left those breadcrumbs in that safety deposit box. She would by God follow them, if they led her to the depths of hell.
Cait thumbed on her phone for the flashlight function. She shined the weak, watery blue light around. The glow didn’t penetrate far. Stalagmites, many broken off. The cavern was full of rubble, in some places reaching almost to the ceiling.
Ping. There it was again. The beacon showed itself coyly, glowing briefly on the screen from somewhere beneath that heavy, crushing mass of rock. Taunting her.
So, she wasn’t going to be able to do this today, or anytime soon. This project had suddenly gotten bigger, longer, more difficult and more expensive in every way. It would take resources and permission and cooperation and teamwork, and a not inconsiderable budget. She would need heavy equipment. People to run it. And she would need to somehow justify all of that to the powers that be.
And all she had was a missing father and a handful of cryptic breadcrumbs.
Nothing worthwhile comes quickly, Dad used to say when he wanted to egg her on. The thought made her laugh. For real, Dad? Fourteen fucking years?
She took a tentative step out into the tumbled boulders, and something huge and heavy hit her in the back. Her phone went flying.
Rocks slammed up to meet her as darkness closed in.
Her first frantic thought was that the ceiling had fallen in after all. She was going to die here in the dark, pinned by massive rocks. Curiosity had killed the cat.
Then that massive rock that pinning her down shifted, flexed.
A big, strong hand grabbed her wrists and clamped them behind her back. The other one wound through her hair, jerking her head back sharply.
“Who are you?” His voice was a low, rasping hiss right into her ear. “And what the fuck do you want from this place?”
Available for preorder now!
Did you miss Demi and Eric's earlier adventures? Check out Hellion, Book One, to read the scorching tale of how it all began—available now!
Or try Headlong, Book Two, where Demi and Eric finally reunite...only to have danger and violence engulf them and threaten their love once again—available now!
Then try Hellbent, Book Three of The Hellbound Brotherhood. Now it's Anton's turn to grapple with the Prophet's curse, and put everything on the line to save the woman he loves—available now!
HELLION
THE HELLBOUND BROTHERHOOD
BOOK ONE
Find out why New York Times bestseller Maya Banks hails McKenna’s books as “A nonstop thrill ride…”