Wicked Bite (Realm Enforcers #5)(47)

His eyes were hangdog. "Where's your phone, damn it?"

She took out her phone and shook it. "Dead." Bloody hell. She'd been too busy having sex with Bear to remember to charge it. "I've been a bit busy. What happened, and do you need me?"

He winced. "I'm sorry, Nessa. I really am."

Her lungs seized, and her breath stopped. "What?" she whispered.

"Your uncle. We were having dinner at his place-"

"What?" She stood upright. "Where is he? What happened?" God, she had to get home.

Jasper held up a hand. "I don't know. We were at dinner, and a force of ten just showed up. I have the entire Guard searching for him. It's our top priority."

She gulped, and tears filled her eyes. Okay. She could handle this. "He was taken?"

"Aye."

All right. Boondock Lansa had more money, knowledge, and secrets than anybody else in the witch world. There were a multitude of people who might have taken him. "Has there been contact?"

"No," Jasper said.

So no ransom. As of yet, anyway. "Send me your report," she said. Jasper would've immediately written a report after the altercation.

"I will. I was knocked out for several hours," Jasper said, pain in his eyes.

Translation: Boondock could be anywhere.

Nessa's shoulders shook. "Are you all right?"

He nodded. "Just bruised."

Good. Time to think. "We've handled kidnappings before." She kept her voice strong and her gaze as direct as the tears would allow. "This is just another one. Keep on top of everything, and I'll be there as soon as I can."

Jasper nodded. "You need to check all your e-mail accounts. See if there's a ransom demand or if he somehow got word to you."

"Affirmative."

"And charge your damn phone."

She clicked off before she started bawling like a frightened baby. The blank screen stared back at her. Okay. She needed to get busy. She opened up her accounts and booked a plane ticket under one of her aliases, one of the names that even her uncle didn't know. He was the one who'd taught her to create identities that nobody else in the world knew.

He had to be okay.

She flashed back to when he'd taught her how to grapple and choke out an opponent without messing her hair. God, he was funny. Sweet and kind and strong-and he'd raised her by himself. He'd taught himself how to braid hair and paint nails and cook. For her.

She'd find him. He'd be okay. Hunching over the keyboard, she began checking her several e-mail accounts. There was nothing interesting until she reached her more public account. That one held about three hundred e-mails, but the one at the top caught her eye. The subject line: Uncle Boondock.

Her stomach dropped. She sat back down. Her hands shook, but she reached for the mouse and clicked open the message.

A video was embedded in the e-mail, and she hit the play button.

She gasped.

Her uncle sat tied to a chair, his face a bloody mess, his blue eyes furious. An old rag was stuffed in his mouth, and it looked like his hands were tied behind his back. Somebody kicked his chair, and he fell over.

Nessa cried out.




       
         
       
        
The camera shuffled, and a man crouched down.

Bloody hell. Nessa glared into the face of George Flanders. The witch was several hundred years old, but didn't look more than thirty, with dark brown hair and deceptively placid green eyes. His face was angled, his nose crooked, and his mouth full. To most women, he was handsome. To her, he was a dangerous pain in the ass.

"I've underestimated you," she whispered to the monitor.

He pushed a button on the camera. "I hope by the time you see this that I haven't just killed this old bastard for fun." He turned toward a ruckus offscreen. "He is making it far too tempting to slice off his blustering head."

Rage lanced through Nessa, and she struggled to sit still. Oh, she was going to kill him. Dead.

George focused back on the camera. "Nessa? My sources tell me you're in Washington State. That's rather convenient, since your uncle and I will be in Los Angeles by tomorrow night. I need to check on some of my businesses."

Like that impressed her.

"I'm sorry it has come to this, but you just won't listen to reason. So be in Los Angeles tomorrow night at 9:00 P.M. I will send a message to this e-mail address with directions for you once you're in in LA. We shall mate, as is our destiny, and you will get your jerk of an uncle back. If you don't show, I'm cutting off his head."

Nessa slapped a hand on the battered desk.

"And come alone. If you have anybody with you, especially the Guard, then I kill Uncle." George smiled. "Part of me hopes you don't show, by the way."