Hunted Read Free Page A

confidence and without thought I glanced down, frantically searching for that tell-tale red dot of a laser scope. Nothing. If anyone besides the two of us were there, they hadn't tagged me, at least not yet. Maybe I was worrying for no reason.
    I dropped to my stomach and looked under the cars, searching for another set of feet, for anything to prove or disprove my fears. Nothing. Only the boots and jeans of the lone tracker.
    I sat back up and drew a slow, deep breath. My lips pulled back, baring my teeth and a low, primal growl fought for release as my jaguar fought for control. My muscles all but quivered in anticipation as each step brought the tracker closer, ever closer.
    From where I crouched, I saw his legs first. Faded blue jeans. Black, worn boots. Interesting. That wasn't the usual attire of the trackers but it did make sense if this one was trying to blend in. Maybe he wasn't quite the amateur I first thought. Or maybe not. Although he moved slowly up the aisle, checking first one direction and the other as he scanned between the parked cars, his hands were visible and very empty. My well-trained eye saw no hint of a weapon anywhere on him. Good. That would make things much easier.
    I slipped further into the shadows cast by the SUV and the wall behind me. All I needed was for him to take another couple of steps forward. That's all. Then I'd be in his blind spot and could move. He'd never know what hit him. By the time he figured it out, it would be too late and they would both be well away from there and anyone who might be looking for him.
    Silently, I rose from my crouch and stepped into the aisle, ready to attack. My head jerked up, the scents of the other trackers suddenly assailing me. Damn it! It had been a trap. Somehow, I’d played into their hands. But how? How had they known this was where I’d come?
    My mind may have frozen, but my body acted on instinct. I turned and took first one step and then another. I had to run. It didn't matter where. All that mattered was getting out of there. I'd made the worst mistake possible. I'd become over-confident and I'd fallen into their trap.
    The screeching of tires filled the air. A moment later, a black Mustang slid to a stop beside me.
    “Get in!” the driver yelled as the passenger door swung open
    For a moment, hope flared. Escape was at hand.
    Three sharp jabs hit my back, like needles or nails, as I dove into the car. Then my system lit up. It felt as if a thousand--a million--hot needles suddenly pierced me. Every nerve seemed to catch fire. No longer would my body answer my demands. Muscles tensed, spasmed and I slumped forward. There was pain--I think there was pain--as I hit the dashboard face first. Then I was thrown back against the passenger seat as the Mustang sped off.
    Breathe. I had to breathe. But my lungs wouldn't work. Panic filled me. This is what Hell must be like. A mind alive and terrified in a body that does nothing but scream in agony. Dear God, was this really the day I'd die?
     

 

Chapter Two
     
     
    “Don’t fight it. I know it hurts like hell, but it will pass.”
    The voice was deep and reassuring. I wanted to turn my head to see who my rescuer might be but could no more do that than I could right myself in the passenger seat. My muscles refused to cooperate. My nervous system felt as if it were on fire. There was no way I had gotten the full jolt from the taser, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
    It’s funny what your mind will do when your body refuses to work. Instead of worrying about the trackers--or even who my mysterious rescuer might be--I found myself wondering how he’d explain my condition if we were pulled over because I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt. “Gee, officer, I was just driving through the parking garage and saw this nice lady being hit by a taser and thought I’d bring her home. Is it my fault she didn’t buckle her seatbelt?”
    I fell against the door as the car veered to the right. It