“No, Devon did. He’s not as smart as he thinks. Now which way?”

“To the left.” Alisha chose the direction leading away from the upper entrance.

The path narrowed before twisting to the side. The water pools and river were left behind, the light in Vincent’s hand reflecting off walls that were now close enough to touch. Vincent’s breathing was loud in her ear, obviously hurt as he groaned and muttered, shoving her forward into the darkness. Alisha ignored his panting as she frantically searched for a solution. Should she take Vincent to the other entrance? Wander in circles . . . ?

Oh.

She had the answer to Devon’s cryptic message. One of their first searches with Lifeline. They’d rescued a couple of Boy Scouts who’d gotten separated from their troop. One of the pair had insisted they’d been looking for the secret exit his older brother had told him about.

Devon wanted her to make Vincent wander in circles.

“Vincent, I need to stop for a minute”—she tugged on his arm—“please.”

He paused, allowing her to straighten up. “Don’t try anything.”

“What would I try? You’ve got a gun. I’m not stupid. Only, please, stop choking me. I’ll take you where you want to go.”

He held the back of her coat this time, shaking her to prove he could control her movements. “Now, walk.”

Being able to breathe better was a good thing. She held her hands out to stop from knocking into rocks, the light barely in front of her enough to see. “If you let me hold the flashlight, we could go faster,” she offered.

“No.” The words clipped. Sharp. All Vincent’s smoothness had vanished.

They came to another split in the tunnel, and she took the right passage, crossing her fingers that after all this time she had selected the proper path.

The walls glittered in places as the light struck them, bands of igneous rocks mixed in with the places where running water had deposited calcium, the buildups creating waves of what appeared to be red-and-cream-coloured piles of rock-hard pudding. Sharp sounds rang out, but there was no way to tell how far away the original noise had originated, echoes carrying through the passages until the entire place became a drum chamber.

Alisha slowly worked the zipper on her jacket, careful to keep one hand pinned over the two sides to maintain the illusion of being tightly controlled. She had to be ready when . . . whatever happened, because something was sure to go off soon.

She pulled them down yet another endless passage, this one riddled with holes on one wall. Staying alert, keeping her attention focused forward, but pleased that she’d ended up exactly where she’d intended.

Vincent pushed her forward. “Faster.”

“Faster and we’ll trip,” she warned.

Motion blurred on her right. Alisha let go of her jacket, springing forward and leaving her coat behind in Vincent’s grasp. He grunted in pain, and the light in his hand tumbled to the ground. That was fine by her—in spite of the darkness she knew where she was going, at least for now.

She spread her arms wide. Her fingertips brushed wet rock on her right, and she ducked into the first of the available alcoves she could find. The wall guided her in the darkness while she moved blindly a few steps down the passage as behind the sounds of struggle rose.

It had worked this far, Devon’s trick. She’d brought Vincent in a full circle and given Devon time to surprise them. But with Devon’s injury and that damn gun to worry about, they weren’t finished yet.

Every sound the men made repeated off the narrow walls. Heavy breathing, fists meeting flesh. Alisha snuck back to the alcove entrance, tucked low to stay out of danger.

The flashlight Devon had knocked from Vincent’s hand lay on the ground, the beam reflecting off the wall dimly illuminating the fight.

Devon had an arm wrapped around Vincent’s throat, attempting to jerk Vincent to his knees. With his other hand he held Vincent’s wrist, the gun gripped in Vincent’s hand pointed down the passage.

Vincent roared in dismay, the sound cutting off as Devon leaned in harder. Vincent jerked up a foot and slammed his heel into Devon’s leg, and Devon swore loudly, the oath bursting out in a breathless gasp. As they scuffled in the dim light Devon’s face was pale, Vincent’s dark eyes wide as he struggled to bring the gun around.

Alisha ripped her hiking boot from her foot. The men twirled again as Devon dragged Vincent back, closer to where Alisha was hidden. She stood and timed it as best she could, and as the men’s joined hands passed in front of her she slammed the heavy heel into the back of Vincent’s hand.

The gun tumbled to the ground and she snatched it up, darting into her alcove. Cold water soaked her sock as the fight continued. She put the gun down where the wall edge met the ground and hurried back to help Devon.

As she reached the opening Vincent screamed. He made a last, desperate push, sending him and Devon careening into the wall. Devon gasped in pain, and the moment was enough for Vincent to twist free, snatch up the flashlight, and race away. The sound of his feet slapping against the stone floor faded into the distance as Devon slumped to the floor.

They were left in pitch black.

A pain-filled groan rose, and Alisha slipped forward using the walls as a guide. “Devon?”

* * *

Soft hands touched his face a moment before her strong arms helped him to his feet again.

“You’re crazy,” Alisha whispered. “You’ve been shot. You shouldn’t be walking, let alone fighting.”

“And leave you to him? Fuck that.” Devon leaned harder on the wall behind him. He took the headlamp he’d found in her abandoned backpack from his pocket, where he’d put it before leaping from the shadows. He pressed it into her hands. She twisted it on, and suddenly he could see every inch of her beautiful, worried face. “I couldn’t leave you. Thank you for figuring out what I was talking about, because I wouldn’t have been able to jump him otherwise.”

“He can’t get out.” Alisha gestured down the passage ahead of them. “He’s got nowhere to finish except up against the base of the first descent. If Lana is there with a rope for him to escape, Erin will stop them, and either way, the RCMP should be here soon. We’re safe.”

Devon tested his leg. The pain he’d ignored while tracking after Vincent and Alisha into the tunnels had lessened, probably because he was going numb. “Lana isn’t on his side, at least not fully.”

Alisha wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. “I was so scared I’d lost you.”

God. “Me, too. I never want that to happen again.”

“I knew better than to go to his suite by myself. Why didn’t you?” Alisha complained.

Devon smiled sheepishly. “What was he going to do? Knock me out, drag me to some cave, then try to kill me?”

“Don’t joke.”

“Hold it right there.” Blindingly bright lights hit them, and both Devon and Alisha turned their faces away and covered their eyes. “RCMP.”

Devon waved a hand toward the ground. “Lower the lights. We’re the good guys.”

“Opinions vary on that.” A deep chuckle followed as the lights shifted to the sidewalls, making it simpler to see the team of three who crowded the passageway. Their faces were familiar—men with whom Devon and Alisha had played poker during different social gatherings in the past. One of them smirked as he stepped forward. “Devon. What’s this I hear about you being kidnapped?”

God, he was never going to live this one down. “Hey, James.” Devon switched footing and grimaced as pain shot up his spine. “It was all a ploy. You need to go farther in to catch your man.”

Alisha tilted her head deeper into the mountain. “You know the route? Vincent’s no longer armed, and he should be trapped at the headwall.”

One of the other constables nodded. “We’ll take care of it.” Two of the team rushed past. Alisha called after them, “There’s another woman at the top who might have a rope to help him, but our pilot is up there watching.”

James knelt to check Devon. “We already talked to Erin, and we have a team at that entrance as well. Damn, Devon, you got yourself shot.”

“Really?” Devon wanted to say something smart-assed and quick-witted, but he was having a tough time concentrating now that his adrenaline rush was fading. “Nah, this is how tough we are on Lifeline. We enjoy making rescues more challenging by first opening a vein.”

James snorted, standing and patting Devon on the back. “Okay, tough guy, if you insist. You’ll live long enough to hobble to the exit. I’m going to give the guys backup. You okay?”

Devon nodded.

“Wait,” Alisha interrupted. “Before you go. Vincent’s gun.”

She disappeared down the passage for a moment before returning, holding it as if it were a rotting carcass. James took possession before vanishing, the stillness of the cavern returning as his footfalls faded.

A slow trickle of water played in the background, muted voices in the far distance, but mainly the sound of their breathing and the strange noises created by being amplified underground.

He still held Alisha’s hand. Her fingers were cool in his, wet and dirty. Both of them were filthy from the mud and water covering everything. When he turned her, though, she went willingly enough, pressing against him and lifting her lips to his.

Pain that laced through his body faded at the sweetness of her kiss. The brush of her tongue, the clasp of her arms around his shoulders—he could have lost this, and the idea shook him.

Then the truth rushed in.