Chloe had been tossed back, too. She’d hit the ground hard, but other than some scratches, she thought she was fine.
She just couldn’t hear. Everything was muted. She stumbled toward Joel because she needed to help him. He was breathing. She could see his body moving. His chest was rising and falling. Wendy Hyde slumped beside him.
Joel. Chloe reached out her hand toward him.
And felt a sharp prick in her neck. Like the quick sting of a bee. Her hand flew up—but she didn’t touch a bee. She pulled hard and tugged a syringe toward her.
Dazed, she stared at the syringe.
Then a flurry of sounds hit her ears as they popped and seemed to throw out the muted world around her.
Sirens…shrieking. Wendy…moaning.
And a man next to her whispering, “I’ve got you.”
Chloe slumped back against him even as the syringe dropped from her fingers.
***
Fucking hell.
Joel’s eyes flew open, and he surged up. His breath heaved in and out even as his hands automatically slapped against his body as he looked for injuries—
A moan.
His head turned. Wendy Hyde’s eyes were on him. Her face twisted as she fought the tape on her mouth. A ringing filled his ears. Blood dripped from a cut near his right eye. He heaved over and yanked the tape off her.
“Help me!” she screamed. Her words reached him over the ringing. A ringing and a rush—like waves. Help me!
He’d been trying to do just that—and then they’d both got blown the hell away from the van. His gaze jumped back around the area. Where was Chloe? “Chloe!” Her name choked out of him as a growl. “Chloe!” Louder.
“Help me!” Wendy’s scream.
He couldn’t see Chloe. “I am going to help you,” he promised. The ringing had dimmed.
“Th-there is a second bomb in the van. I saw him put it there!” Her head shook frantically. “Get us away from here. We have to run!”
A second bomb? Fuck. Just like at the Serpent. He grabbed Wendy. Hauled her into his arms and spun to look for Chloe.
Where was she?
She’d gotten out of the van first. He’d made sure of it. The blast would have sent her stumbling at the impact, too. Where—
“R-run!” Wendy’s cry. “H-hurry!”
He looked up to see people running toward him. Hell, no, those good Samaritans couldn’t come close. If there was another explosion, they could get hurt. “Back!” Joel yelled as he surged forward with Wendy against him. “Get back—” He stepped on something.
Joel glanced down. Saw the broken syringe.
His head whipped up. People were ignoring his warning. They were coming in close but Chloe—Chloe wasn’t there. “Bomb!” Joel shouted. “Get the fuck back! Everyone—back!”
There were screams. The group of would-be rescuers scuttled back. The group was blocking his view and he couldn’t see—
A man at the back of the crowd had a woman in his arms. A woman with dark hair who was far too still.
Chloe?
“Stop!” Joel yelled.
A patrol car was racing to the scene.
“Let her go!” He tried to run to Chloe.
The man had stopped. Looked back. He—
The second bomb exploded.
***
Joel’s eyes opened, and he immediately surged upward.
“Easy.” Cedric locked a hand around Joel’s shoulder and shoved him back against the—wait, what the hell was he on? A stretcher? Yeah, it was a stretcher. And Joel was inside a damn ambulance.
“You need to get checked out. It’s been a fucking bad day for you, and I need you to just stay still.” Cedric’s voice was grim. “You’re bleeding from a gash near your eye that is going to need stitches, and I—”
“Chloe.” It was all he could say. All that mattered.
Cedric swallowed. “I was hoping she hadn’t been with you.”
“Where. Is. Chloe?”
For the first time since Joel had met Cedric, fear filled the detective’s eyes. “I don’t know.”
***
She opened her eyes, but it didn’t make any difference. Pitch darkness surrounded her. Chloe’s fingers lifted and stretched in front of her. She tried to keep track of the distance. One inch. Two. Three. Four. Five and—
Stone. She was touching cold stone. Six inches above her.
She could feel the same cold stone beneath her.
Her breath hitched, for just a moment.
Then she reached to the right. Counted again as she did it. One. Two. Three—Only three inches of space on the right side of her body before she touched stone once more.
Chloe swallowed. The sound of her breathing seemed too loud. Loud…when before there had been nothing. After the bomb had gone off, she hadn’t been able to hear for a few precious moments. Those moments had allowed her attacker to get close. He’d snuck up on her.
Injected her with something.
Taken her.
She understood where she was. She understood exactly where he’d put her.
Joel had been buried alive. But he’d been put in a shallow grave. He’d gotten out. He’d crawled out of the dirt.
Chloe wasn’t in a grave. She couldn’t dig herself out.
New Orleans was filled with old cemeteries. The dead were put inside tombs and vaults. Above the ground, not below. The tombs were better than being put in the earth because when the floods came—and they always seemed to come—the tombs stopped the dead from being washed away.
The cemeteries were filled with maze-like streets of tombs and monuments. So many…
She’d studied the tombs. Been intrigued by their stories.
She’d never thought to be in one.
Joel’s fear is being confined. Not mine, you bastard. This would not break her. She didn’t fear being trapped in the dark.
Take stock, Chloe. Find your resources. She’d measured above her. To the right. Now she counted to the left as she tried to figure out a plan.
One, two, three, four, five, and—
She touched something. Something that felt soft, like fabric.
Once more, her breath hitched even as her hand stretched to examine the thing next to her.
Her fingers closed around—an arm? Yes, it felt like an arm. He’d sealed her in with someone. So someone else had been occupying the tomb before he dumped her inside. Probably some person who had been embalmed and put to rest long ago.
Chloe had often thought that if she was going to get rid of a body, her plan would be to put the body in someone else’s grave.
My attacker must’ve had the same idea.
Perhaps the poor soul sharing the tomb with her would have something on him—or her—that could help. The dead were often buried with sentimental items. Steeling herself, Chloe reached out again. She touched a shirt. She touched—
The shirt was wet. Sticky. And the body wasn’t quite hard. No…it still felt soft. As if…as if the person had not been dead for long.
Chloe’s hand snatched back. Even though darkness surrounded her, she still squeezed her eyes shut.
The body is fresh. If she’d been able to see, Chloe knew she would have found blood on her hand.
She’d been wrong when she thought this was the nightmare Joel feared. It wasn’t. The attacker had planned well. He’d trapped Chloe with a dead body. And now her nostrils were flaring as she pulled in the coppery scent of blood, a scent she’d missed—or ignored—before.