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cottages in turn, finding each as empty as the first. An overwhelming sense of powerlessness knocked her to her knees. Head in her hands, the edge of despair threatened to turn her into a sobbing mess. She sniffed back at the thrust of tears. If she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop.
    Images of Scotty spun a tornado of memories that tormented her. What if they were all she had left of her son?
    No! I refuse!
She reared back with a roar. She would not collapse. She would stay strong. Scotty was counting on her, and she wouldn’t let him down.
    Hiking clothes didn’t matter. Her cashmere sweater was warm, especially when moving around. The good wool of her slacks was as tough as any material. And her fashion boots sported soles made to grip the sidewalk. She’d handle an afternoon out in the woods just fine. The important thing was to find Scotty before the Colonel did—before dark.
    As she scrambled to her feet, the crunching of tires on gravel echoed from the bottom of the drive. Sabriel. Her heart lightened, and she raced down the path, back toward the lodge.
    She was about to burst out of the tree-lined trail when she spotted the black Hummer creeping up the drive. Instinct shot her down to a crouch. Three men scuttled out of the vehicle like beetles. Boggs, all six feet of intimidation and testosterone, and two more of the Colonel’s muscle with their close-cropped hair, black battle-dress uniforms and black jungle boots.
    Impossible
. How had they found her?
    The sink of letdown knocked her off balance. She grabbed a pine bough and steadied her stance.
    Sabriel. He’d betrayed her. Led her like some Marie Antoinette to the guillotine—right where the Colonel could make her head, her whole body disappear.
    Voices came at her, bouncing around the woods as if she were surrounded on all sides by a radio not quite tuned in. An angry whisper. A tinny mumble. A conversationwhere the words made no sense, but sent crawls of warning shivering down her spine.
    The blue jays stopped jabbering. The trees no longer swayed. Even the waves on the water lapped at the rocks on the shore in near silence. She couldn’t let the thugs corner her. Not until she’d found Scotty.
    The Hummer’s cooling engine pinged, giving her a start. She scrunched down farther, then inched backward, away from the Colonel’s men.
    A hand, big and rough, clamped over her mouth. A steel-strapped arm banded across her chest and dragged her backward. A scream tore from her throat, but the vise of a hand securing her mouth muffled it. She fought, twisting and kicking, and worked to free her lips to bite the offending fingers. But the body clinched tight against hers had no give and the flesh might as well have been granite. Her left hip bruised against the hard outline of a holster. Her peripheral vision caught a blur of black and panic ran rampant.
    Another of the Colonel’s thugs
.
    She wanted to run. She wanted to scream. But her body was ice, and her breath was gone. The thug said something, but through the thunder of her blood, she couldn’t make out the words.
    No, let me go. I can’t go back to the Colonel’s. Not until I find Scotty
.
    “Shh. It’s me. Sabriel.” The hiss of his breath rasped hot and urgent in her ear.
    Sabriel, who was no savior, but one of
them
. Shewasn’t going back. Not without Scotty. Her limbs thawed enough for her to renew her struggle.
    “Stop. They’ll hear you.”
    As if he cared. He’d told them where to find her.
    He hauled her off her feet as if she weighed no more than a loaf of bread and dragged her deeper into the woods, where he crouched, folding down her uncooperative body along with his. A surge of adrenaline shivered through her. How could she have been so trusting? Just because he was Tommy’s friend? Given Tommy’s mental state, common sense would have warranted more caution.
    “If I take my hand off, will you keep quiet?” Sabriel said in a sandpaper-harsh whisper.
    Breathing fast and