I waited for the man's cry of outrage. He only hesitated, then looked over at me.

"She'll be unconscious?" he said.

Tesler laughed. "Not if I have my way, but sure, I'll knock her out again if that's what you like."

I felt the man's gaze travel over me. My skin heated, red-hot fury burning through the old terror.

You coward. You goddamn, fucking, low-life coward.

I wanted to fly at both of them. Show them what they were dealing with. Show them I wasn't weak, wasn't a victim. Images flickered across my half-closed lids. That letter. That damned letter. The face of the man who sent it. The faces of other foster families, the men and boys I was supposed to call father and brother. Cowards every one. Preying on the helpless. Only I wasn't helpless anymore. I was-

I shoved the rage back, gritted my teeth and stayed where I was. Just another minute. Another few seconds…

"Let's get you out of there," Tesler said.

I listened as he yanked on the door and waited for the moment when he got it open, when the flurry of activity would distract-

"Shit. That bitch really did do a number on your doors. Put down the window and let me get it from the inside."

"I already tried."

"Just put down the fucking window before she comes to and runs away."

The window whirred. I tensed, ready to spring…

Tesler grabbed the man's shirtfront.

"Wha-?"

Tesler slammed his palm into the man's face, his nose flattening with a sickening crunch, head snapping back, neck breaking. The man went limp. Tesler checked his pulse.

"Did you really think I was going to share with a human?" he said as he threw him to the floor of the cab. "Now that's taken care of, time for the fun part." He turned. "What the-? Where-?"

A growl of rage sounded behind me as I raced across the open field.

LOCOMOTION

TESLER RECOVERED FAST and gave chase, his footfalls so heavy I swore I felt the ground shake. I searched the cluster of buildings ahead, hoping for some sign of Clay, but the landscape was empty and silent.

I whistled.

Silence.

I whistled again, and then it came, the faintest answer off to my right. I turned that way and ran so fast all I could hear was the pounding of my feet and heart. I hated myself for running, but I knew I faced more than bruised ribs and injured pride if I lost this fight.

I caught another whistle, louder and closer now, from behind the building to my right. Clay was coming for me. I glanced over my shoulder. Tesler was nowhere to be seen.

Shit. I sheared off in the direction of Clay's whistle and gave a double one to warn him to be on the lookout.

The building was a small factory of some sort, with machinery whirring inside. There was only one car in the lot. If there were any windows, I couldn't see them.

I slowed to listen for Clay and, yes, to try to sense him, reassure myself that he was close. When I didn't pick up that faint feeling I shook off the unease-relying on a sixth sense was Jeremy's realm; the rest of us had to make do with scent and sight and sound. Only I couldn't smell him either.

I jogged to the rear of the building and looked both ways. The lot remained empty and still.

I whistled. The answer came in seconds. A whistle. Not Clay's whistle. Then, on the end of it, his whistle farther away, in the direction I'd first heard him.

I swung my back to the wall and listened, but heard only the muffled machines inside. Then I caught the faint scuff of a shoe… over head. I glanced up as a shadow edged over the roof.

Tesler jumped. I tried to twist out of the way, but he caught my shoulder and I spun, feet scrabbling against the gravel. His fingers whispered across my new ski jacket as I lunged out of reach.

I started to run, but kept slipping on gravel, losing my speed advantage fast. There was a small building ahead, some kind of storage for the factory. I ran for that.

Just keep ahead. One step ahead. That was all I needed to do until Clay arrived. He couldn't be far.

I made it to the building and raced around the front corner, then along the wall. Tesler's footfalls were at least a half dozen paces back. Too far to lunge and grab me. Too close to sneak around the other way. Now I just had to keep him going around the building in circles until Clay showed up.

I zipped around the rear corner… and found a fence blocking my path. I skidded and swerved, my boots sliding. He dove and caught the back of my jacket. I wrenched, but he had a firm grip. I yanked down my zipper, trying to get out of the coat. His foot caught mine and down I went.

I fought-kicking, clawing, writhing-but within seconds he had me pinned. And he was a man who knew exactly how to pin a smaller opponent so she couldn't get away, couldn't fight back, couldn't do anything but scream. And I would scream. I didn't care how mortified I'd be later, because all that mattered was getting away before he did what he wanted to do.

I barely got the first note of my scream out before he jammed his forearm down on my throat, cutting me off, a move so deft it was almost instinct. I knew now who'd been responsible for those missing girls around Roman's territory, and who was responsible for the ones here. I knew what Tesler had done many times before and what he was about to do to me.

Even as I struggled, that voice inside told me to stop. You can't fight. Just lie still and go someplace else. Find the old place, the one where he can't touch you. Just go there and wait until it's over.

His hand pushed under my shirt, under my bra, fingers digging in, nails scraping. I snarled and twisted and tried to hit, to claw, but he had my shoulders pinned so I couldn't do more than lift my hands a few inches off the ground. I rocked and heaved so hard I thought I was going to dislocate my shoulder, but I didn't care. I bucked and squirmed until he had to shift his weight to keep me still, one arm at my throat, the other hand squeezing my breast. And when he shifted, I got the momentum I needed to wrench my arm free.

I grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked. His hand flew from under my shirt, catching my wrist and wrenching until it was at the breaking point. I kept pulling, but came away with a handful of hair, my grip lost.

He pinned me again. When his hand went back under my shirt, he twisted my breast hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. I rocked and bucked and flailed, but I couldn't get free. I just couldn't, no matter how many fights I'd won, no matter how many years I'd trained, no matter how strong I was and how many times I'd told myself that no one, no one would ever touch me like this again. It was happening and there was nothing I could do.