Forever Hunted

Inc.

"But won’t this guy Kronos be able to find us? We must have made tracks."

If Kronos himself goes to the airstrip, yes, he will find us. His voice took on an edge of steel and pain as he looked away. But that is not his way. He will have humans do most of the initial work. He unfolded the newspaper but just held it trapped between his hands.

What made you suspicious of Mark and his nephew?

Rakesh looked at her and offered the newspaper. He took her hand before he released the paper. There was nothing I could do about this.

What?

She so did not want to see it.

She looked at it anyway.

The headline was almost two inches high. Terrorists Claim Virus, Demand Release of Earth is Ours Members.

But the pictures below the headlines had her dropping the paper and scooting away from it.

"Shit! Everyone will think we did it."

Praise for Carolina Montague

"Strong, intense characters, an unfolding love story set in a believable vampire story world, a threatened pandemic from the release of a deadly virus, and a hit squad of vampires determined to wipe Kim and Rakesh from existence make this novel [FOREVER GREEN] a page turner and a thoroughly enjoyable read."

~JoAnn Smith Ainsworth, author of historical romantic suspense novels and paranormal thrillers

Forever Hunted

by

Carolina Montague

The Forever and Ever Series, Book 2

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Forever Hunted

COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Carolina Montague

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com

Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Black Rose Edition, 2016

Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0719-0

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0720-6

The Forever and Ever Series, Book 2

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To Daniel Stewart

Chapter One

Her mother once told her that every two seconds, someone dies.

Heart attacks, accidents, illnesses; all these things could shoot out your lights.

And murder.

Murder did the job too.

Kim Parker leaned against the window of the single engine plane whisking her away from danger and focused on the inky blanket of night outside. The window frame was loose and rattled against her cheek as the plane dipped and banked to the left.

Just twenty hours ago, she’d been murdered. Now she was on the run from her killers.

And if they caught and killed her this time, she wouldn’t be coming back.

She gripped the seat in front of her and looked to her right, where he sat.

Rakesh. Her love. Her miracle.

The muted glow from his laptop illuminated the perfection of his face, the pale golden skin of the Punjab, finely sculpted brow, the faintly asymmetrical mouth. His fingers flew over the keys in a blur. A series of news articles and digital videos flickered across the screen. His tawny eyes burned as he scanned each bit of news.

She fought an urge to run her fingertips over the line forming between his brows, to soothe it. Instead, she asked, Any news on the virus?

Rakesh blinked, pinched the bridge of his nose, and turned to her. Nothing that tells me how more than ten thousand died in a single night.

That’s way faster than it took me out.

Yes. The line between his brows deepened. He took her hands and pressed kisses against her palms. This one is different from any they’ve seen before. He released her hands, shook his head, and looked back at the screen. According to information my contact sent, the injection Professor Singh gave you was a blend of virus and complex substances that convinced the virus you were its target population of the elderly. They think that was why it took more time to kill the initial victims.

So instead of some little old lady…

Let’s not forget the children, Kim.

She flinched. I can’t forget them. Hundreds of people were in on this insane scheme. They’d been given a vial that was purported to be a vaccine against the virus, and had given it to their children, thinking it would save them.

But all of them died. She splayed her left hand against the rattling window and squeezed her eyes shut.

Kim. Rakesh took her free hand and held it again; his thumb restlessly traced her palm. It wasn’t your fault.

She opened her eyes and stared out at the black stretch of desert below. If I’d pushed harder when that grad student had mouthed off about this, maybe someone would have stopped it.

You know that’s not true. He took her face in his hands, so she had to look at him. What proof did you have at that time? A chance remark? A suspicion? Flecks of gold in his tawny eyes glinted, but sorrowing compassion traced lines of anguish across his brow. You didn’t even know he was planning anything. He turned and nodded at a message displayed on his laptop screen. Sean says his unit was able to alert people in the human system about this. I’m sure they’ll find a way to treat it.

Human system? she whispered and gestured toward the pilot.

Rakesh just shook his head and indicated the set of headphones covering the pilot’s ears. The warm-blood can’t hear us.

Well then. A hollow ache gripped the space right below her heart. She was no longer human. Is there anything we can do, anything that will stop this? She rubbed the ache that held her heart in a vise. It didn’t help.

Kim. Rakesh waited until she looked at him again. First, we have to survive.

Right. She’d do anything to soothe the grieving anguish that still smoked from his golden eyes. Where are we headed?

He leaned over her and looked out the window. We’re going to Arizona first. I have some contacts there, places where we can stay. After a quick glance at his watch, he added, And I need to tell you some things before we land.

I have questions. She’d come back from death with a new body and no owner’s manual.

Just listen for now. He closed the laptop, and sat back. The one who is chasing us knows me. This makes our escape more difficult.

Knows you. Shit, shit, shit. He was an acquaintance, a friend?

More like a brother. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

Rakesh, I’m so sorry. She reached out and cupped his cheek.

I have a few places we can go, homes that my people don’t know about, that he doesn’t know. His eyes darkened. We can’t contact any of your people, and I can’t contact Sean again until we have better equipment. The articles and videos he sent are all I have right now. I can’t go online again until I have a safe way to do that.

Double shit. How many are hunting us?

We have to assume all the Born-ones will be inclined to turn us in.

Born-ones?

Yes. My species.

They’ll hunt us because you made me like you. And that held a death sentence.

I’d do it again. He stashed the laptop in his pack; then took her chin so she had to look into his eyes. In a heartbeat. The gold in his eyes ignited. He leaned in and traced her face with his lips, shuddered and touched his forehead against hers.

She ducked so she could slide her mouth along the sweep of his lower lip. The plane bucked, and the tug of gravity pulling her against the window told her the pilot was executing a massive turn.

He steadied her and straightened. You’ll need time to get used to your new senses.

Right. They never had enough damn time.

You have questions? At least a hint of that lazy amusement she remembered colored his expression now.

Okay. Whenever I look at something, I see right inside it. It was just plain spooky. "How can you just walk around, let alone move, when it’s so damn complex to just see?"

Shut your eyes when that happens. His fingertips traced patterns over her lids when she closed her eyes. Somehow his gentle touch released something in her that had been coiled tight. All her muscles softened and relaxed. You’re just in the very first stages of the transformation. His lips trailed a kiss across her cheek. It will become easier, I promise.

She shivered when he touched her cheek, and her heart gave an extra thump.

Well, if she still had a heart. She wasn’t sure. This was just too new.

Rakesh tucked her next to him. She nestled into the iron strength of his arms and glanced at her left hand to stabilize her eyes. She couldn’t see down to the level of atoms in her hand anymore; it possessed the same fine-grained skin as Rakesh’s hands, but her hand now shone with a furious burn. A glow that shouted to anyone who knew vampires that she was damn hungry.

A glimmer that showed she was no longer human.

She gave a quick glance at the warm-blooded pilot again, but he was melded to his instrument panels and did not look back. He was also flying really low, and he kept maneuvering, banking to the right, then to the left, sometimes straight ahead. It didn’t make any sense.

Why are we flying so low? She looked out as the pilot eased to the left and dipped down so far, that if the window were open, she might be able to touch the tips of the scraggly trees below.

My pilot has ways to confuse radar. We’re going to an air strip that is private and seldom used. The people who run the airstrip want to keep things low key. Rakesh gave his attention to the thin slice of the moon now visible outside the windows.

How will we get food? The space just below her heart burned. It wasn’t exactly like hunger, more like thirst on steroids.

I’ll take care of that. He took her hand, but wouldn’t look at her now.

Shit. Feeding from live humans—there were just so many issues about it that churned in her gut. She drew in a long, slow breath and set those thoughts aside. After she woke from the nightmare of her death, feeding from Rakesh hadn’t been so bad. But at that time she’d been so damn ravenous, she hadn’t even given a second thought about making a meal of the blood welling from his arm.

Here we are. He leaned over her again and pointed out the window.

Blue, green, and red lights twinkled in a random pattern. What’s with the Christmas tree lights? She looked up into Rakesh’s face and was blinded by one of his rare smiles.

That’s my human friend’s idea of a joke. He calls his runway the sleigh drop.

When Rakesh smiled like that, something inside her opened and wept with pure joy. Just looking at him was better than the choir of angels she’d missed when she died. His skin glimmered; not as severely as hers, but enough to show he was hungry too.

With that thought, her fangs shot out and pierced her lower lip. Damn. She covered her mouth with her hand and tried to push on the lengthening tips. How do I make these go back to human size?

Try counting or simple math. It will help you retract your teeth.

Right. She glanced at the pilot again, but the human ignored their conversation. The plane leveled out. She started counting.

Have your eyes settled down?

Yeah. She blinked. Everything in the cabin shimmered, but with a precise lucidity. No more glimpses of atoms whirling in empty space.

If you need help, just ask.

I think I can manage. She kept counting while the plane pitched again in turbulence, as heated air rising from the Arizona desert below them buffeted the small aircraft. Her fangs retracted with a tiny snick. Well. Counting worked. When we get to where we are going, could I have a vampire FAQ?

Rakesh shot her one of his luminous, stern glances.

Okay, okay. No FAQ.

Please put this in your backpack. He tossed a fine leather satchel toward her lap.

She caught it and the magnetic flap flew open; passports and driver’s licenses spilled out. Whoops. She gathered them up, but after she shoved most of them back in the satchel, she opened a USA passport for a Richard Adam. It had a picture of Rakesh as Richard, all the requisite stamps and the electronic strip now embedded into passports, as well as valid multi-year visas for several countries, including England and India. Are we going overseas?

We may. Rakesh gathered his own pack. It was stuffed with so much that the seams showed.

She stowed the thousand and one questions simmering in her head and rammed the satchel he’d given her into her backpack. The pilot navigated the plane toward the empty field. Sand and scrub surrounded a slightly darker line in the desert, lit by the Christmas tree lights, winking in red, blue, and green on either side.

As they approached the runway, she could see it was just a dirt road, a very straight dirt road, that began and ended abruptly. As the plane set down and tumbled over places where the earth had buckled in the heat of the merciless Arizona sun, she plastered one hand against the window, and the other clutched Rakesh’s arm so she didn’t crash into the pilot’s seat.

The Arizona sun.

She’d never see the sun again.

She stuffed that thought deep inside and stared out at the airfield. A dilapidated hangar sat next to a section of hoses for fueling, and a miniscule store with living space stacked above it stood at the end of the runway. Yellow curtains in the open windows above the store billowed in the hot breeze that strafed the field, kicking up sand and bits of leaves from the surrounding scrub. The store had a red neon sign that stated it was open, and a blue vending machine hummed just outside it.

Okay, we’re in Arizona, but where in Arizona?

This place is northeast of Flagstaff. Rakesh leaned in. I’ve had annual deliveries of aviation fuel sent here for the past forty years, and an arrangement with the proprietor that goes back even farther than that. Rakesh nodded to the pilot and took her hand.

The pilot taxied down the weedy airstrip right up to the store. Lights illuminating the runway switched off.

She tried to execute a human-slow pivot to turn and exit the four-seat aircraft that had transported them from his Mojave lair to this weed-studded air strip, but when she made it outside the door, she spun and ended up flailing. Rakesh caught her arm before anyone could see her faster-than-human motion, and guided her down the stairs.

How did you ever get used to this? She’d been a vampire only a few hours. How could she ever move her arms and legs with human speed? She couldn’t slow down. It was like switching from a supercharged race car to an old Model T. She’d thought she had it down, but her new body responded with vampire immediacy, a speed of motion that was impossible for a human.

It’s just practice. Like playing the piano or getting ready for the Olympics. He flashed another of his blinding smiles and lifted her to the ground.

Yeah, well, you were born looking like a god, she snorted. That was true. Rakesh had all the grace and slender strength of a dancing Shiva statue. But her snarky comment ended with the stab of her canines into her lower lip, as they erupted from her mouth at the sight of the pilot’s neck. The human stood just five feet away, negotiating with a young guy dressed in grimy desert combat fatigues.

Okay, practice. She knew all about practice.

And endurance? That she could do. After all, she’d been an Olympic gymnast. Something in her settled and opened up as she contemplated strategies she could employ. Whenever she had an injury, and there had been many, she had always needed to incorporate the damage to her body into any routine on the bars. To give it space, to work around it, to use it.

After all, sports was show biz, and the show must go on, injury or not. So she could do this; she could look human. She could.

The pilot continued his argument with grimy-guy. She drew in a breath and concentrated on calculating how long it might take the deadly, explosive viral outbreak to reach this remote area between Flagstaff and New Mexico in northern Arizona. After guessing that the distance between this place and any major urban area would protect the other man who trundled out of the store and approached the pilot, a man with wrinkles and a gray pony-tail, she felt her canines shrink. Well, hell. That worked.

The old man just ambled up and ordered the younger man in the combat attire to get his ass over to the fuel station and shut up. Her fangs erupted again when she caught a whiff of the blood circulating under his skin. She tongued her canines back in and found to her relief that this worked too.

Stand by the plane and wait a moment. I need to check on something with Mark. Rakesh strolled over to the older guy and did an elaborate male fist-bump greeting with him. Then he bent close to Mark, murmuring in the man’s ear. Mark just nodded his head and said yes to each question, waving his hand toward the building housing his store, and then toward the hangar.

As soon as his conversation with Mark ended, Rakesh loped off toward the aviation hangar. She sighed. He made walking look so easy. And just looking at Rakesh still gave her goose bumps. He had the finely defined musculature of a quarterback, long and lean, and very, very, strong.

Shit. Rakesh had left her alone on the rutted runway.

Hey, dingbat! He’s just over there in the hangar.

Say what? Her mind had been so quiet, just filled with all the unfamiliar senses of her new body. And just how did you survive? She’d have thought the transformation to a vampire would have flushed her snarky little inner bitch right out of her system.

Well, you’re still here, right?

Ah, yeah, I guess so. She glanced up as the young guy in combat fatigues approached. Why wasn’t he refueling the engine? She looked around for Mark and the pilot, but they were by the store, chatting. And Rakesh was nowhere in sight.

Damn. Her sense of smell exploded and spread out into layers that she could taste and analyze when combat-clothes dude walked over, swaggered a bit, tucked his thumbs in his khaki pants, and tipped his dusty hat. She curled her hands into fists, so her claws would stay inside her fingers instead of sprouting.

Hey, honey. The guy leaned toward her, way too close. The odor rising off his body spread into an array of fragrance. Sweat, the gamy smell of unwashed clothes, and a sour hint of alcohol teased her new olfactory senses.

But underneath it all was the tantalizing aroma of blood.

It didn’t smell like blood had when she was alive. Blood had always smelled slightly like copper before. Now its odor flared into a prism of frequencies. At the base, she could tell that he’d eaten some kind of meat and onions about an hour ago. A whiff of alcohol traced a thin crest across the rich flood of fragrance rising from his pores. Perhaps he’d had a beer with dinner? Damn. His neck looked way too appealing. The spot where a large vein visibly snaked down the right side under his chin had her moving toward him before she could stop herself.

Oh, shit! Where was Rakesh? She halted and kept very still, starting the cycle of breathing Rakesh had taught her, a method to aid her when she felt overwhelmed, so the guys here wouldn’t see any nonhuman behavior from her.

Use your nose again. Rakesh has his own scent.

Thanks, she whispered. Rakesh always smelled like a Buddhist temple. She drew in a tiny bit of air, but the hot, enticing scent of the young guy’s blood flooded her. He was still too damn close.

The guy just scratched behind his ear. Guess you don’t talk much, huh. Do you speak English?

She looked at him, eyes not blinking. All the veins, arteries, and capillaries that made a highway for the circulation of his blood shone neon in the faint light from the fuel pump station. The thick aorta jutting out of his heart was so enticing that a flood of sweet saliva gushed into her mouth. She almost leaned in to take a long sniff when she caught herself, and just looked up into his eyes.

Christ! He backed away, holding his hands up. I didn’t mean any harm, sweetheart.

She froze. A spike of fear sparked the guy’s heart. She could even hear it beat double time, increasing the tantalizing scent of his blood rushing toward capillaries. She leaned toward him, her right hand snaked upward.

Rakesh appeared at her side before she got too up close and personal with combat-clothes guy. Doug here will start the fueling process now.

Doug scooted away, turned, and trotted over to where the pilot stood.

Good God. She drew a shaking hand across her mouth. Rakesh, I am really hungry.

I know you are. He took her arm and gently tugged. Let’s get away from them for now.

Okay, sure. She focused on moving slowly, managing a shambling gait as she followed him toward the back of the building where the store and upstairs apartment stood. God, I’m like that freaking doughboy vampire the other night.

Rakesh flicked a glance at her as he guided her steps. Doughboy?

The young vampire who chased me. When he wasn’t streaking around and smashing into things, he walked just like he was made of squishy dough. Though, come to think of it, his arms and hands had felt hard as stone when he’d grabbed and hauled her toward the abandoned grain elevator.

It takes time to become accustomed to your new body. He reached for her. Here, I’ll help you.

She lifted her arm. Do I look all pasty and dorky?

Trust me on this. The gold in his eyes glinted as he took her elbow. You don’t. He guided her around the corner. Here we are. He opened a filthy door marked as a restroom.

She hesitated, but he said, It’s all right. We don’t need to be invited in here.

Why is that?

I had this place restored. Part of Mark’s written agreement to live here is an open invitation, though I renew it with him whenever I visit. He moved toward the back where the toilet sat. I just renewed it to include you.

Um. Do I really need help with this? She’d never thought of basic body stuff like elimination. Never thought that vampires would have to pee or poop. Jeez. It felt kind of humiliating if she needed help the first time, but hell, he’d seen her nude before, and every single time he’d encountered her, she’d been dusty, grungy, sweaty, and without even a trace of makeup.

Someday she’d like to look pretty for him.

He didn’t answer, but walked over to the rusty toilet, removed the top of the tank, and tore a chunk out of the wall in back of it. When she moved closer, she saw what he’d torn out was a rough door disguised as a long crack in the wall with nearly invisible hinges on the left side. It hid a small refrigerator nestled inside the space behind it. A supply is kept here for me. Rakesh turned and gave her the fiery, grieving gaze that had cemented her to him only about a week ago. In case I need it.

That glance from his tawny eyes smoked right through her. An urge to lock the door, grab, and mount him had her tumbling into a state of frozen shock. He caught her elbow as she stumbled, but the gleam in his eyes told her he had somehow sensed the combustible wanting that had flared up out of nowhere.

Steady now, he murmured.

She emerged bit by bit from the shock that had gripped her. When she could speak, she said, A supply? Was that deep freeze she just experienced the same state Rakesh fell into whenever she’d surprised him? He always did this turn-into-a-statue thing when something unexpected happened.

It’s what you’ll be eating now. He reached for the refrigerator and popped the door open. A wash of icy air, along with tendrils of cold mist, burst out of it.

Well, I’ll be damned. They make freezers that small? She’d have to ask him about the frozen-vampire-state thing later. She was so damn hungry she didn’t care; she just wanted to eat.

I had this unit custom-made. He gave that little almost-smile of his, and handed her a bag.

But this is frozen. It was just a thin cake of red ice encased in plastic. Does it really last?

It has chemicals in it to allow freezing and preservation. He closed the tiny freezer and sealed the door, then replaced the top of the tank so the door behind it looked like just a big crack in the wall again. For humans, they have a process to wash the chemicals out, but the stuff in it won’t bother us. We can just heat it.

She swallowed against the burning in her gut. How long does it keep? Was it long enough so this supply could not be tracked to them?

Supposed to be a long time, but I have it replenished. He paused before cracking the door to the outside a bit. We’ll need to get into Mark’s apartment from the back to heat it enough for consumption. His hired help does not know about us. The door to the bathroom creaked when he opened it all the way. And I’d like to keep it that way.

He stepped to the left and looked around the corner, toward the airstrip, then returned to her, scanning the space around the back. The upstairs apartment had a window cracked open in the far right corner of the building. The same breeze that had fluttered the curtains in front ruffled the sheer drapes in this window.

He handed her the other bag. Please hold both of these, just for a moment. And he was suddenly airborne, leaping fifteen feet to the ledge. When he caught the ledge, he pulled himself up with fluid ease, and coaxed the window open more. Then he entered the apartment and leaned down toward her. Throw them up to me and wait there.

She chucked each bag at him. He caught them and disappeared back into the apartment while she leaned against the wall, staring out into the desert. Pockets of some kind of long, feathery, thick grass grew in clumps around small brush, but red-brown rocks and bronze sand stretched out to mountains far off in the distance. The beep of a microwave chirped from above her. Before she could even look up, he landed beside her, barely making a sound or disturbing the crumbling sand on the ground.

Here. He ripped the top off her bag and offered it.

Oh, man! The scent told her it was dead blood and her stomach contracted with a blend of the Hunger and nausea, but her fangs shot out anyway. She moaned as she guzzled it down, trying to keep it from staining her shirt.

When she’d all but licked the bag clean, tearing it open and using both her fingers and tongue, Rakesh asked, Do you require more? A hint of laughter peppered his words.

Did she? It had filled a need and blunted her sense of the warm-blooded people outside. No. I think I’m good.

He chugged down the other bag. You will need live blood soon. Somehow he didn’t spill a drop.

How will we get some?

I have donors in this area. Kronos should not be looking for us here.

Kronos?

A shadow rippled across his face. The one chasing us.

And the one who’d killed her. She folded the plastic of the empty bag. By donors, do you mean people who donate blood in a hospital or clinic? Blood like this? The space just below her heart contracted again, sending a flurry of cramps that felt like a severe case of the munchies. If it doesn’t go bad, can we just get some more? She bent with the cramp. Damn! She just ate. Well, she just drank. What was up with this?

Frozen blood does not give you all that you need. It only blunts the intensity. Because you are transforming, you need a lot more than I do. He pulled her close and ran his hand lightly over the cramp below her heart.

She waited, but he didn’t say anything more.

Does Mark have a computer? There was clearly something he didn’t want to tell her. Better to let that go for now, though. She looked up at the window. I’d love access to the Internet and news. She ached to hear of her family. Her cousin JJ was young enough to be safe from the virus, but her aunt and uncle were over sixty, and her great aunt was in her eighties. Her mother, well, her mother was a whole other universe. She only hoped her mom’s finely honed self-preservation instinct and wealth would protect her.

One thing at a time, Kimimela. He rolled up her empty plasma bag inside his, took her arm, walked her back to the restroom, and stashed the bags in the trash can inside. Then he peered around the corner and pulled her next to him, walking in a steady lope toward the front of the store. Her gait resembled an alcoholic on a bender, but it was the best she could manage. Once they cleared the corner, he tugged her about thirty feet away, to the edge of the airstrip.

Aren’t we flying again? The pilot now sat in the cockpit, going through his preflight procedures.

No. This is as far as we will fly today. I need to get you into a safe place, where we can stay for a few days. He kept his gaze on Doug, who was standing in the store, and for some reason, giving them a real hard stare. But right now I need to talk to Mark and Doug. Stay here. He strode away from her, toward Doug.

Shit. Something was wrong. Rakesh was not trying to hide his panther-stalk. When he wanted to look human, he loped or walked. Sometimes, he strode. But now, as he approached Doug, he moved with the fluidity of the great cats.

Her claws shot out. What the hell? She tucked her hands under her armpits to hide them and wondered what was going on. Rakesh relaxed into a languid stance, speaking to Doug. Maybe things were okay; she was overreacting. With that thought, her claws clicked back into her hands.

But Doug shook his head and backed away from Rakesh, eyes wide in panic.

Damn! She stumbled and caught herself before she took a header onto the runway. Would they fight? What should she do? She’d probably just get in Rakesh’s way if there was a fight, right? That’s why Rakesh told her to stay put. But she needed to be alert so she could watch his back. She glanced over at the plane. The pilot was still doing his check.

Could she hear what Rakesh was saying from this far away? Maybe that would tell her what to do. She closed her eyes and adjusted her sense of sound, first opening up to catch the buzzing of flies around a trash barrel ten yards away. Then she expanded farther, capturing the scurrying of rodents and an owl riding the air currents above.

The blast of the plane’s engines masked everything else and rocketed in her eardrums until she thought she’d go mad. She held her hands against her ears to mute them. By the time the plane roared down the dirt runway and literally bumped up into the air, Rakesh walked back to her with Mark close at his side. Doug was nowhere to be seen.

Doug is family, Mark said, shaking his head. "Basically a good kid, but he doesn’t want to