Oomph! All the air exploded from her lungs when his weight slammed her to the ground. Bam! Her head bounced against the dirt and grass, stunning her, making her ears buzz and her vision narrow until it appeared as if she was stuck inside a dark tunnel.

It was a strange thing, but during that moment when she lay still, unable to move, unable to draw breath, unable to think, she noticed the sky above her was pink and purple and orange. The rays of the early morning sun glinted off the clouds in a brilliant display at the end of the dark shaft that was her vision. Then, seemingly from a place very far away, a hand came up to cover her mouth, just as it had the first time.

The first time…

In an instant, the ol’ cerebral cortex jump-started its synapses and her muscles immediately came to life. She wriggled and writhed, bucked and heaved, trying to scramble out from under the unbearable weight pressing her into the yard. But nothing she did seemed to dislodge her attacker.

She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe her would-be abductor had followed her here. To this place. And he was going to try to take her. Again!

Oh, hell no!

Even as her mind raced with questions—Who is he? Why is he here? Is he just after me, or is he mixed up in Uncle Theo’s disappearance? What does he want?—she fought with everything she had, opening her mouth to try to bite at the hand. But it was to no avail. And, inexplicably, no matter how hard she punched and kicked and tossed about, she couldn’t unseat her assailant. And then he placed an arm against her throat. Instantly, her brain became starved for oxygen. Her movements began to feel sluggish, weighted, as if her limbs were no longer her own…

She tried to shake her head, to jolt loose the hand over her mouth, but all she managed to do was to turn her chin.

It was overtaking her now. The darkness. The emptiness. She struggled to drag in a breath as her bleary gaze alighted on Fido, lying on his side. The dog’s wonderful brown eyes were bright with misery and bewilderment, his tongue hanging out as he panted in what had to be his death throes.

I’m so sorry, she thought, watching Fido’s bright red blood leak from around the blade of the knife still imbedded in his chest, matting his fur and staining the grass beneath him. This is all my fault. I brought this man here. And I’m so, so sorry.

Even terribly injured, the brave dog sensed her desperation and attempted to drag himself closer. But it was too much. Every move resulted in a loud, soul-tearing yelp that rang sharply in her ears and felt like a hatchet strike to her heart. Hot tears burned up the back of her throat, pouring from her darkening eyes to slide across her cheek and nose and drip into the earth beneath her.

Shhh, shhh, she wanted to tell Fido. Don’t fight it. You’re a good boy. Be still. Be quiet…

But death wasn’t something a body—be it man’s or beast’s—did gracefully. It struggled and strained against the inevitable end with everything it had. She should know. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen the specter of the Great Beyond hovering close. The blood. The fear. The all-out battle to draw one last, shuddering breath of life. It’d happened before…

Just like with Buzzard. Just like…had it been this way for Uncle Theo? Will it be this way with me?

The thoughts whispered through her sluggish mind as white stars danced before her eyes. Her under-oxygenated brain begged her to draw a breath. Her chest burned like she’d swallowed a box of fireworks. But she blinked off the encroaching darkness, holding on a second longer. If she could just hold on a second longer…

Locking gazes with poor Fido, she wanted nothing more than to take the dog’s agony and anguish and confusion into herself. To reach out to him and offer him comfort in these last miserable moments. And maybe she could. Maybe if she could just reach—

Letting go of her assailant, she strained toward the whimpering, suffering animal with one arm, her fingers outstretched, her diaphragm quaking with her muffled sobs and her body’s intense desire to suck in a huge, glorious lungful of oxygen.

Please, God! Let me help him! Let me touch him!

But her prayer went unanswered. The big yellow dog was too far away. Too far away, and she was fading now. Her vision dimmed to nothing more than faint, barely intelligible shadows. And, then, to her astonishment, the dying canine dragged himself forward another inch, enough to allow her fingertips to reach the soft pad of his nose. As her eyes rolled back in her head, she gently rubbed that warm, dry nose, giving what small measure of peace she could until the darkness consumed her…

* * *

“Okay. Bring up the next one,” Ozzie said as they all watched the screen on the CIA agent’s iPad fade to black while the satellite changed the angle of its lens. Mac was more than happy to let the boy wonder take the lead in this particular endeavor. Ozzie was the most qualified among them, after all. And someone needed to keep an eye on Agent Duvall’s keystrokes. You know, make sure she wasn’t feeding them a big bunch of hooey for…whatever reason.

Because talk about something…er…someone to make Mac’s Spidey sense jump up and down while waving semaphore flags. Zoelner was right. Chelsea Duvall wasn’t here out of the goodness of the CIA’s black heart. Something more was going on. Something she was refusing to tell them. But whether it had anything to do with the disappearance of Charles and Theo, or if it was just The Company’s way of keeping tabs on the Knights themselves, Mac didn’t know.

“Jesus. This place is even more deserted than I thought,” Ozzie murmured, implying with a rolling finger that Agent Duvall should ask for the next scan.

And Ozzie wasn’t kidding. Besides the four heat signatures in the building on Main Street, only two other houses in the entire town appeared to be occupied. And both were clear on the other side of the municipality. Meaning it was a pretty sure bet that even if Theo had made it here to visit Charles, those folks wouldn’t have been close enough to hear the big engine on his Harley and make note of it.

Shit. This was turning into a classic case of not having a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. And it certainly wasn’t the news he’d hoped to offer Delilah.

Delilah…

The look she’d given him a minute ago when he skedaddled away from her touch would’ve made a hornet look cuddly. Seriously, if looks could kill he’d be checking into the Wooden Waldorf, planted in the fossil farm, and pushing up daisies. But could he blame the gal?

For the love of Christ, no. Because even though the thought of him being a tease sat about as well as a raw catfish dinner, he had to admit that that’s exactly what he was. A tease with a capital T. A tease in the classic sense of the word. Hot one minute, cold the next. Beckoning her closer with one hand while pushing her away with the other.

It had to be confusing as hell…

And the good Lord knew she didn’t deserve it. After all, she couldn’t see the future laid out before them the way he could. She didn’t know about the history he refused to see repeated… Of course, what she deserved and didn’t deserve would have to play second fiddle to him figuring out how in the world he was ever going to go back to the man he’d been before that little scene upstairs. The man who could resist her come-on-cowboy looks and blatant propositions.

She said she’d lay off if you gave her one kiss, he reminded himself. But that was all a big, smelly pile of cow manure—and he should know; he’d dealt with his fair share. Because she’d gone back on that deal almost as soon as she’d made it.

Boy howdy, did she ever. He could still feel the strength of her fingers digging into his hair. Still taste the sweetness of her tongue as she kissed him to within an inch of his life. Yep, she’d reneged on the deal faster than a bee-stung stallion out of the gate. And now here he was…sporting half a hard-on and having to curl his hands into fists lest he use them to reach out and strangle someone.

He’d prefer it was her neck he wrapped his fingers around. Unfortunately, not only was she absent from the room, but throttling her meant he’d also be touching her again. And he knew what sort of tomfuckery that led to. For shit’s sake, this situation right here was the whole reason the term FUBAR came into being.

“And there we are,” Steady said, diverting Mac’s attention from his unsavory thoughts. The image had finally rendered, displaying Charles Sander’s house, as well as the houses around it in a one-block radius. The five of them, huddled together so tightly, showed up as one giant green blob. Two more fluorescent dots of heat appeared in the backyard, Delilah’s signature about twice the size of Fido’s. Other than that, the block was empty of life.

So what else is new, Mac thought ill-temperedly. And, okay, the truth was, despite his pseudo ire at Delilah’s blatant lie when it came to that whole one-kiss-only business, he desperately wanted to help her locate her uncle. Because, damnit, not only did he like Theo, but he also liked her. Liked her spunk and grit. Liked her sultry laugh and easy smile. And despite the fact that he couldn’t give her what she was asking for in terms of them sharing some sort of relationship, the idea of being a hero for her was more than a mildly satisfying concept.

There. He admitted it.