The man raised an eyebrow, and I realized there was something patently absurd about me trying to strong-arm him when I couldn’t even hold myself upright without help.
The man held up the wrist that Ben still squeezed in a death grip. “Can I have my arm back first?”
“What, so you can run away?” Ben snapped. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
The man just looked at him. “If I really wanted to run, neither one of you could stop me.”
He was right, of course. “Let him go,” I said.
“Clea …”
“I want to hear what he has to say. Let him go.”
Ben released the man’s arm.
I took a second to tuck my father’s watch safely inside my camera bag, then fixed the man with a stare and asked, “Who are you?”
He took a deep breath, as if the answer required a long story, but then he let it out and replied simply, “I’m Sage. It’s nice to meet you, Clea.”
Sage. I felt a thrill when I heard him say my name.
“Nice necklace,” Sage added.
“What the hell?” Ben exploded. “This isn’t a cocktail party!”
“Your boyfriend’s very protective,” Sage said. “That’s good.”
“I’m not interested in what you think,” I said.
That was such a lie. I was very interested in what he thought, and I desperately wanted him to know that Ben was not my boyfriend. I tried to ignore the feeling.
“Grant Raymond, my father, disappeared over a year ago, from right around here. You have his watch. Can you explain that?”
Sage ignored my question. “Your father was a good man,” he said. “Be safe, Clea. Live a long, happy life.”
He reached out and grazed his fingers over my cheek. My skin tingled at his touch. I leaned in for more, but he was gone, already pushing through the brush.
“WAIT!” I was furious at my body for betraying me so I couldn’t run after him. I’d finally found Sage. I knew without a doubt that he was the man from my dreams. Not just someone who looked like him. It was him—the one who saw me like no one else ever had—and now I could only watch him disappear into the woods. I still had no idea how he knew my father. Had Sage hurt him? I didn’t think so, but my head was spinning with so many different feelings, I didn’t know what to believe.
Ben pulled out his cell phone.
“He’s not gonna get away. I’m calling the police. I’m gonna tell them he’s involved with your dad’s disappearance. We can describe him—we even have pictures. Wait —no—we can’t show them the pictures, that would get too complicated. Do you think we should show them the pictures?”
I heard Ben’s manic voice, but I had no idea what he was saying. I couldn’t take my eyes off the last spot in the brush where I’d seen Sage.
Thump! A huge black blob fell from the trees and landed on Ben, pinning him to the ground.
“BEN!”
Before I could move, someone else grabbed my arms, pinning them behind my back. Automatically I kicked my good heel back as hard as possible, nailing my assailant in the groin. His arms loosened, and I shot my elbow backward into his face, then wheeled and drove jab after jab into his solar plexus … until another person grabbed my arms from behind and lifted me into the air. I flailed and kicked, then the first guy grabbed my legs and pinned them to his sides.
“Ooh, we got ourselves a feisty one!” The man’s accent was European, thick and difficult to understand. I threw my head back to see his face; I wanted to give a good description when I got the chance. I smelled it before I could see it: the stench of decay from his black, ruined teeth. His pasty cheeks were sunken. Open sores stood out on his forehead and chin. He had a huge, faded tattoo across his throat: a skull with fire bursting out of its eye sockets and the letters CV below it. He looked sickly, but he was strong. I couldn’t move my arms.
His face spread in a wide, reeking smile. “Hey! Look who it is!” He turned to his friends—the one securing my legs, and the one who was holding Ben. “Look who we’ve got! It’s that woman’s daughter. It’s … what’s her name? Clea! Clea Raymond! We got a celebrity on our hands. A rich celebrity. Just think about the possibilities, gentlem—” Whoosh! Something swung down from the trees and slammed him violently on the bridge of his nose, which exploded in blood. As the man lost consciousness he dropped my arms, and my body swung downward. My head smashed hard onto the ground. I literally saw stars. I fought really hard to shake them off. The world grew more and more distant and fuzzy … until it faded out. more and more distant and fuzzy … until it faded out.
The world started to come back well before I could open my eyes.
I couldn’t see yet, but I could feel.
It felt like I was moving.
Quickly. I was moving very quickly.
I was moving very quickly, but I wasn’t doing the work. How was that possible?
Wait—I felt arms clutching my legs.
It was the guy—it had to be—the one who’d had my legs. He still had them, and now I was … yes, I was slung over his shoulder and he was running with me.
As my senses continued to return, I tried to work out an advantage. Did I have one? Was there a way out?
I did have one advantage: The guy holding me had to think I was still unconscious. I felt for his shirt and jacket, and carefully pulled them up.
I took a deep breath, then as hard and as fast as I could, I dug my nails into his skin, feeling the satisfaction of four long channels of blood opening in their wake.
“OW!!” the man screamed.
My eyes flew open, and in a flash all my senses returned. That voice. It was Sage.
I was slung over Sage’s shoulder, and he was running.
Was he kidnapping me?
I could move now, and I writhed and flailed against him. “Put me down!”
“Stop it!” Sage growled, and behind me Ben’s voice hissed, “Clea!”
I looked up and saw Ben. He put his fingers to his lips, then pointed behind him.
It all came together now. Sage had saved us, but we were still in trouble. I probably hadn’t been unconscious that long; we were still in the same junglelike brush as before.
Suddenly a rush of panic surged through me.
“My camera!” I hissed to Ben. My camera bag wasn’t on my shoulder. My father’s watch was inside. I’d lost it.
Ben held up the camera bag. Of course he wouldn’t leave it behind. I could have kissed him.