Chapter 489 Chapter 489
He moved up behind the tree she was tied to, it was not big enough to hide his presence if anyone turned and looked at her. The only advantage he had was they were occupied, and the fire was far enough away to not cast light on her. Touching her hand, he winced when he felt how cold it was. Carefully, he worked the blade between her wrists and hoped she kept still. “I’m going to free your hands.” He whispered no louder than a breath and hoped her hearing was as good as her eyesight. She kept her head still and looked in the direction of the men. The smell of gas almost gagged him and he had no idea how she was keeping her breathing so steady. His animal was not impressed that his sense of smell was voided out right now. “Are they armed?” He glanced up to see she gave a quick shake of her head.
“Dart gun.” She whispered.
That was a plus, no dodging bullets, although if he got tranq’d he’d be very unhappy. “I can’t get to the collar without giving away my position.” He felt remorse for offering her so little hope. “Hold tight, darlin, I’ll be right back.” He rolled away so he wasn’t in their line of sight.
Once he was no longer visible, he made fast work to get back to his bag, he was going to need a few more toys to pull this off. His cat was prodding him internally as he did, trying to convince him to shift so he could deal with it. It was a great idea, but in cat form, having a conversation was a little limited and he needed information out of those idiots, not to mention alive worked better for having discussions. He needed to know when the fourth was coming back, and if he was bringing others with him—any details after that were all bonuses.
Tucking the wire into his pocket, he reached into his weapon pack and pulled out another blade and gun. Most of the teams used zip ties, but a big shifter could pop those apart without breaking a sweat. Wire cut into flesh and prevented any further thought of misbehaving. He’d learned that the hard way when he’d gotten a little out of hand that first time he met Kenzo. It was terrifying to feel the wire cut into your flesh—afterward, of course, he thought it was brilliant.
Picking up the bag, he carried it further up the hill, so he wouldn’t have to leave them long to retrieve it. He had one shot to pull this off without incident. The incident being he didn’t sustain injury. Three against one, he shrugged, seemed about even to him. Moving fast, he went back up the hill with soundless moves.
He found a tree big enough that he could hide behind it and checked their positions before he walked into it. They were all still close to each other. The tents being near were a worry if they had weapons in there that she hadn’t seen. He glanced to see she was watching them, not looking around. Good girl. He’d been worried she’d be looking around trying to figure out where he went. She even had her hands behind her back still. That surprised him, which didn’t happen often.
Just as he stepped out of the tree, the two big men turned to move away from the little guy. He held the gun out in front of him, so they would be sure to see it. The first one froze and stood there. Tripp had his other hand hovering near his side, so he could access a knife or gun, whichever might be required the most.
When the second one noticed, he glanced at one of the tents. “I wouldn’t,” Tripp said loud enough that even the man with one and a half ear would hear him. The little one jolted and spun around. “Let’s do this the easy way, okay?” Tripp moved toward them, watching their feet more than the rest of them. The funny thing about a body is it didn’t matter where you looked or what you planned to do; your feet were the first part of a body to move to do it and always pointed the way if you watched close enough.
His cat was scenting the air, monitoring it for him, trying to get a sense of what they might do. Adrenalin and fear were easy emotions to pick up on.
In a blur of movement, the woman that was bound to the tree went screeching past him, both in movement and sound. Tripp moved closer, then pulled out his knife. How the hell did she get free and what was she doing?
She lunged at the little one, growling a low eerie sound. Her cat was closer to the surface, making his cat come forward even more.
One of the big ones started to move, so Tripp flicked the knife and landed it in his foot. Right through the boot. “Don’t.” He advised. The other big one dropped to his knees and held his hands up. That was more like it. Later, he’d internally bitch with his cat about how easy this had been and how they hadn’t gotten a single swing in.
Tripp stepped to the side so he could see what she was doing while keeping an eye on his new friends. Buddy was on his knees now in a chokehold. He wanted to blink to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating but didn’t take the chance he’d miss something else. She leaned down, close to his whole ear and he wondered if she planned to bite that one off too.
“This is for shooting darts in me,” she moved her hand to his throat and that’s when Tripp saw the glint of metal, “and the gas.” She started to straighten up and he figured she’d gotten it out of her system. In a move he could never have imagined, she stabbed the knife into his carotid artery and held his chin up, so it spurted out all over. It got her right in the face, she licked her lips and then looked at the dying man, “just like candy,” she whispered.
He knew his jaw was close to hitting the ground, but he honestly couldn’t decide what to do at that moment. The princess he’d pictured evaporated right before his eyes. He glanced at the other two. The one was hunched over his foot, reminding Tripp he’d left a weapon too close to him. The other one was reflecting his thoughts, of ‘what the hell just happened?’ Stepping closer, he, motioned with his gun for the injured one to move back. He shuffled back. “Hands nice and high.” When he complied, Tripp ducked in and picked up his knife.
Backing up, he kept those two in his sight as he turned to see the princess standing there, blood all over her hand and cheek. She wiped her hand back over her hair, streaking it red too, and didn’t seem to care. When she moved toward the other two, he quickly cut her off. “We need information.” He gave her a wary look, “they talk better when they’re alive.”
She looked him up and down and then held her hands out from her body. “Fine.” Backing away, she went over toward the first tent and opened the flap.
Turning his head, he looked at the two men and lifted one eyebrow. The horror on their faces told him that they were regretting the most recent decisions in their lives, the ones where they had abducted that petite little bundle of anger that was now standing beside the tent pouring water over her face. He looked down to see she had boots on now too. “All right, gents, who wants to be tied up first?” He wiped the blood off his blade and secured it in the case on his hip. Neither of them moved. Pulling the wire out of his pocket, he held it up for them to see.
“Allow me.” Amari went by him and yanked it out of his hand.
Tripp shrugged and stood back, keeping the gun up, but not pointed in her direction. The first man winced as she bound his hands behind him. Tripp almost felt bad for them—almost.
When she was done with the second one, she kicked his bleeding foot as she walked back over and held out the wire to him. He took it, trying not to look as stunned as the idiots in front of him. “My bag is about twenty feet down there.” He pointed, “I grabbed your pack,” he glanced briefly at her, “might want to put on something that doesn’t smell like a fuel station.”
“You found my van?” She scowled in the direction he’d pointed, “is it totaled?”
“No one will be driving it any time soon.” He shrugged.
She huffed out a breath, followed by a growl. “I’m going to get my stuff.” She walked away.
Tripp glanced at her, then turned back to the other two. “She’s a surprise.” He smirked. Crossing his arms over his chest, he let the gun hang over his elbow so they wouldn’t get any stupid ideas. “So, I need only one of you alive to share the juicy bits of information I need,” he looked from one to the other, “which one gives the orders?” He glanced over at the one lying in a pool of his own life juices, “I really hope it wasn’t you.” He gave his head a quick shake. The one who had a hole through his foot gave him a dirty look, “I don’t like you much either, but the difference is I have a bullet with your name on it and you got nothing but hate, buddy.”
He heard her come back into the camp. The smell of gas was still strong.
“I’m glad you picked up my bag. Thanks.”
He shrugged one shoulder but refused to look away from the males. “No problem, I’d have done some take-out too, but we’re in the middle of absolutely nothing.”
She made a sound that could have been amusement or annoyance, he couldn’t tell without looking and the injured idiot was staring at him like he was getting ideas. “There’s some jerky and bars in the top part of my bag, help yourself.”
“Thanks.”