Vivian Arend - High Passion

Erin nodded. “They might hear the chopper. Unless they’re deep in the caverns, they’ll know we’re coming.”

“Good,” Alisha said. “That might be enough to convince Vincent to leave Devon alone. If we have enough time, backup will arrive and the RCMP can handle it.”

“Cave details I need to know?” Erin asked. “And we’re there in five minutes. We’ll pass Mount Ogden and drop from the east. I’ll have the chopper shut down in two more minutes while you go check the snow tracks.”

It was time to focus on the rescue, not on memories of Devon’s blue eyes shining at her as they worked together. Not on the softer, heated passion she’d seen there as he’d held her and they’d made love. Focus on the facts. Alisha closed her eyes and pulled up information from previous trips and rescues in the area. “The most likely approach is the lower loop. Upper cave closes into tight passages before leading to an eighteen-meter drop that people rappel down. The lower entrance is level with the river, and there are a ton of pools with narrow pathways along the perimeter.”

Erin made a disgusted noise. “Can I vote for the water route, and not the death drop in the dark?”

Alisha didn’t even want to think about it. It would be so easy to hurt someone at that point—a simple shove, and Devon would be at the bottom of the slick rocks, broken or dying. The only good part was it would take a lot longer to get up to the upper cave entrance—they had a shot at stopping the guys before they made it into the caverns.

Flying over the ridge of the falls was beautiful and horrifying. The calm waters of the glacier melt that formed the falls exploded off the granite lip into the air to fall in glittering ribbons to the earth. The sun reflected on water droplets, turning the world into a shimmering rainbow—hauntingly beautiful, considering that somewhere below them Devon’s life was on the line.

Around them the treetops wavered, a fine dusting of snow off the branches filling the air and turning it white as the props whipped up wind currents. As Erin smoothly lowered them, Alisha examined the snow for clues of which direction to go. They were slightly to the north and above the cave entrances. Alisha squinted to be sure, but there seemed to be two distinct lines breaking away from the main trail. One led to the upper cave entrance, one down toward the river.

That made no sense. Vincent and Devon going in opposite directions?

A flash of alarm rang out. Was this another setup? Had Lana lied, and even now they were walking into another trap?

As the runners touched down, Alisha took a deep breath.

There was no way around it. The RCMP were on their way. Even if it did all turn out to be some elaborate hoax, no one would leave this section of the mountains without a damn good explanation.

Saving Devon came first. He’d trusted her with his life many times before.

Like hell would she let him down now.

A bruised right shoulder and a slightly twisted ankle had joined the pounding in his head.

They’d been walking single file along the narrow boardwalk that made up the first part of the trail. Lana in the lead, Devon behind her, Vincent at the back of the line. When Lana slipped on the snow-slicked trail, Devon reacted, throwing himself backward into Vincent and knocking the other man to the ground. With his arms still lashed behind him, the only thing Devon accomplished was to temporarily separate the gun from Vincent’s hand. Long enough at least that when Lana rolled and popped to her feet, sprinting for the tree cover, Vincent had no way to take her down.

Vincent roared in frustration, kicking furiously and slamming his hands against Devon’s face. Vincent scrambled until he was free of Devon’s body weight, snatching up the gun and aiming down the hill, but Lana had vanished like a ghost.

Her tracks were there, though, a clear line leading away. Vincent followed them for a few paces, sinking to mid-shin in the deeper snow.

Devon thought furiously. While he didn’t trust Lana, she was basically his only hope at this moment. “Really? You’re going to leave me right out in the open to chase down some little girl who’s so scared of you she can’t talk without shaking?”

Vincent paused, glancing over his shoulder to where Devon lay sprawled in the snow.

It took some effort, but Devon hid the exertion it cost him, rolling and twisting and ending up on his feet in what had to look like a very impressive move, if Vincent’s widened eyes meant anything.

“Yeah, you go ahead and leave me here,” Devon taunted. “I’ll be so far into the bush before you make it back, your head will spin. Hell, I might even make it to the highway to get the police before you can find me.”

“You’re very cocky for someone about to become a cave fossil,” Vincent snarled. He glanced into the trees, but there were no further signs of Lana. “I’ll find her after—she won’t get far on foot.”

For once Devon was glad to have Vincent pull his typical chauvinistic crap and underestimate Lana. The woman was probably as proficient in the backcountry as Devon, and she didn’t have her hands tied. If she made the right decision and called someone, he might have a chance.

Now it was up to him to give her the time.

He paced forward as slowly as he dared, Vincent hard on his heels, that bloody gun pointed directly between Devon’s shoulder blades. “If you call this off and go back to the car on your own, you might get into hiding before the authorities come down on you,” Devon pointed out.

“No one is coming down on me.” Vincent laughed softly as they reached the end of the easy-access boardwalk and headed onto the more dedicated climber’s trail. “You’re making all sorts of assumptions, as if I’m not smart enough to get the girl’s phone before we went anywhere. No, I think things are going fine. If she gets lost and dies in the bush, well that adds to the mystery. Such a romantic twist—lover’s spat, or some nonsense.”

Vincent was breathing heavier, the increasing snow underfoot and the changing elevations taking their toll on his less fit body. Devon increased his pace, adding pressure to Vincent’s already taxed system.

The man was too young to drop dead of a heart attack, but he could hope.

The trail through the trees ended abruptly, opening into a wide meadow. Devon led them forward until they were in the clear, then stopped.

Vincent pushed him forward roughly. “Move.”

Devon shrugged. “You shoot me here and casual tourist sightseeing traffic will spot me from the air within the hour. You want to take me to the caves, you lead the fucking way.”

Vincent stomped around him, cautious to maintain a distance between them. He waited until he had the uphill advantage to face Devon. He swung his arm and backhanded Devon across the face, and Devon rocked on his feet. “You might want to consider Alisha and what I’ll do to her over the coming years. Cooperate now, and I promise to be more lenient.”

Devon licked at the split in his lips, the salty tang of blood on his tongue a strong warning. “The word of a man who plans to kill me. I don’t think I give a shit what you promise.”

Vincent stepped back and adjusted the backpack to lie across his chest. One-handed so he could keep the gun in position, he reached in and pulled out a rope. It took him a while, but Devon had to admit the man wasn’t an idiot. He vanished behind Devon again and before Devon could turn, Vincent jerked his toque over his eyes, then retreated out of harm’s way.

The next thing Devon felt was a noose around his neck, the slipknot tightening. He tucked his chin to his shoulder in an attempt to protect his airway, but it was too late. Vincent slammed him between the shoulders again, and, unable to see, Devon stumbled to catch his balance, elbows jerking wide, the restraints on his wrists holding solid. The slight gap he’d maintained in the noose slipped away as the cord settled tight to his skin, and Devon’s hopes fell.