Trust No One: Betrayal, #2

By Deana Brown

Trust no one

Recruited by The Company at fifteen, Tamara Fields' specialty was the retrieval of stolen children. On her last assignment she was shot, captured, and tortured until a belated rescue was launched by the agency. When that same agency turned against her and everything she loved was destroyed, she turned to the only person she'd ever really trusted, her only family, her brother.

She was devastated then enraged when she learned that he was behind it all. He claimed to 'love' her and that everything he'd put her through was to make her stronger so she could truly appreciate the game he wanted to play.

His twisted game? Who's the best at cat and mouse…hunter against hunted…kill or be killed. She's on the hunt but can she find him before he finds her?

Determined to end his twisted game after learning that he's as corrupt and depraved as those he works with and for, she manages to track him to a sale of more innocents. He slips away and she's drawn in to help with the children's rescue. He raises the stakes of his game by threatening the lives of those involved in that rescue and putting the Company back on her trail.

The hunter becomes the hunted in a deadly, vicious game. Can she win when no one can be trusted?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deana Brown
• Release date: Aug 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201772451

Book preview

1

Tamara’s steps were soundless as she moved through the sparse undergrowth. She easily avoided the reaching arms of the trees as she made her way toward the faint light in front of her.

Her hand firm around the grip of the Glock she held at her side, she searched the deeper shadows for movement, listened intently for any sounds other than her own light breathing. Her instincts whispered a warning when she saw and heard nothing even though she was close to her destination.

She slowed even more when the darkness under the canopy of leaves gave way to pale moonlight. Stopping for only a moment to search her surroundings, she finally stepped from the surrounding trees. Bending low to provide less of a target she climbed the small rise in front of her.

At the top, she crouched beside a large pine to look down at the two-story Colonial style house below. From her position, she had a clear view of the front door and the road that dead ended in front of it. It was the only road providing access in or out.

Oh Thomas, you really should have killed me when you had the chance, she breathed staring at the sleek black Cadillac sedan parked in front. As the rage that had been with her for so long rose to the surface she took a deep calming breath. Don’t be stupid, she reminded herself knowing that to do what she was there for she had to remain in control.

She slid the Glock into the holster at her waist before removing the glasses she wore that enabled her to see in the dark. Shoving them into a pocket in the leg of her pants she lifted the SRS Covert rifle slung across her shoulder and chest. Eyes narrowed she looked through the attached night scope.

Her teeth clenched, fingers tightening on the barrel and stock, index finger aligned alongside the trigger instead of on it due to the emotions she was having trouble tamping down. She swept the scope over the grounds and each window. There wasn’t any movement outside or inside although light glowed through the curtains of several rooms on the first and second floors.

~~~

The sounds of the war faded the farther in she walked. It was gone completely when she arrived at a large clearing. Thomas sat in the middle with legs crossed, facing her.

You made good time. He rose smoothly to his feet, but didn’t make any other movement toward or away from her. Guess I found the right incentive, didn’t I?

She stared at him, her heartbeat strong, and her pulse even and steady. She didn’t feel anything. He had finally killed the little bit of humanity still left inside of her. She didn’t even care why anymore.

When she didn’t answer his eyes narrowed, his face muscles tightened. What’s wrong, sis, grieving for your ‘partner’?

She didn’t react to his taunt. It didn’t matter what he said, it didn’t matter how they finished. She was going to kill him. What now, Thomas? She glanced around the ring of trees then met his eyes again. Is this where we punch it out to see who’s best? We’ve both studied martial arts; which makes us both more than accomplished at them. So what’s the point?

He tilted his head to the side, his expression puzzled. You still don’t believe that I did all of it because I love you. He smiled slightly, that glitter back in their blue depths. You walked away from me at fifteen and never looked back. You should never have walked away, sis. You should have stayed with me, we’re family. First our parents, then you...I promised myself that day that no one would ever walk away from me again. I wanted you to need me, but you never did. You never asked for my help until you had nowhere else to turn. The only way to get your full attention was to give you nothing else to think about.

~~~

When that memory surfaced even as she tried to block it, she had to push down the fury that bubbled up threatening her concentration. She closed her eyes for two heart beats. Oh you definitely have my full attention, Thomas, she whispered softer than a breath. There were so many other memories that crowded her mind, her soul. Memories that would never completely fade any more than the physical scars under her clothes.

Her lips tightened into a hard line with the cognizance that all of it was due to Thomas, her brother, her only living family. A man she’d originally thought insane, but had soon realized wasn’t. He was just another monster who dealt in the sale of young, innocent children. Making a profit by selling them to people with a hunger to rape and torture those defenseless against them.

She knew without a doubt that was the business conducted within the walls of the house below, behind those windows and it wasn’t the first time. It was almost a physical effort restraining herself from just tossing an explosive through the front door and taking them all out.

She silently cursed herself for not bringing something with her for just that purpose. She exhaled a harsh breath knowing she couldn’t and wouldn’t have used it on the off chance there might be children inside.

The information she’d obtained hadn’t included who would be there, nor if or how many children were up for sale. The car parked in the driveway at the bottom of the short sidewalk gave no indication of how many were inside.

The lack of guards in the trees and outside the house spoke of either stupidity or overconfidence. The people who were in the business of trafficking children weren’t stupid so that indicated they were confident no one would find their location. They were wrong.

Since her break with The Company she’d had to rely on her own resources and equipment, which weren’t as extensive, sensitive, or sophisticated as those she’d used as an agent. It didn’t matter. She didn’t need that special equipment to know the person she was after was inside.

Thomas. The man she’d tracked across four states while battling nightmare memories of ten days in hell that her loving brother had orchestrated. However, up until now she’d always been one step behind and seconds too late to kill him. The sick bastard had been lucky, but that luck had finally run out. She was there to ease his pain...permanently and, if she had her way, painfully.

Movement from the deep shadows at the far side of the house jerked her from her thoughts. She swung the rifle around focusing the red circle and aligning the crosshairs of the scope in the center of the slender figure moving stealthily through the darkness. Releasing a slow breath, her finger tightened on the trigger for several heartbeats before she slowly relaxed it. She didn’t know who it was. What she did know...it wasn’t a guard or Thomas.

The figure covered from head to toe in black was still distinguishable as female. She watched them stop at the corner of the house to peer toward the front before turning away. Her finger once more tightened on the trigger. She couldn’t afford to have anyone mess up her chance of getting Thomas.

When the front door suddenly opened, she swung the rifle back around and flipped a small switch taking the scope out of night mode. Light spilled across the small portico, down the four steps and sidewalk then back up one side of the sedan.

The low murmur of voices carried in the still night air as three men stepped through the open doorway. She forgot the woman and everything else except the man who stood slightly apart from the other two.

Adjusting the zoom, she focused the sight on the man standing with one foot on the top step. She knew who it was even without seeing his face or the familiar tilt of his head as he listened to one of the other two men.

Hatred unlike any she’d ever known until three years earlier flowed through her to the finger caressing the trigger. That finger tightened as her eyes narrowed. His head abruptly swung toward her and she saw his lips move with what looked like her name as she squeezed the trigger.

An instant before the bullet slammed into his chest he spun away. Satisfaction was too mild a word for what she felt when she saw blood flecked wood splinters fly into the air and blood splatter the wall behind him.

That satisfaction was quickly swallowed by cold hard rage when he grabbed his arm and leaped down the other three steps. He quickly disappeared into the darkness behind the sedan.

You fucking lucky son of a bitch, she literally snarled as she swept the rifle around. She was unable to find him even using the scope. Letting the fury that was now an integral part of her slip her tight control she turned the rifle toward the two men turning to run inside as they drew their guns.

Without hesitation, she focused on the man on the right and squeezed the trigger. His head jerked violently before he stumbled into the doorframe then slid down it leaving a smear of bright red on the white paint.

The other man made it into the doorway and had one foot inside when she squeezed the trigger again. Smaller and lighter, the impact lifted him off his feet and threw him farther into the house. His lifeless body landed in a face down sprawl across the white granite of the foyer.

She heard a woman’s muffled scream from inside and saw a figure race past the open front door. Taking aim at the window of the next room where she knew the woman would cross, she waited until the silhouette appeared then squeezed the trigger again. Glass shattered; there was a short brittle scream before the figure dropped from sight.

She swept the scope across the front of the house, looking for signs of Thomas. Nothing yet. He had to come out some time so she waited.

On the count of two, there was a shift in the shadows at the side of the house. She swung her gun in that direction, her finger tightening on the trigger again. She barely managed not to finish the action when she saw three small shapes and recognized them for what they were. A familiar shape rushed forward and crouched beside them.

Where the fuck are you taking those kids? she questioned on a breath even knowing she wouldn’t get an answer. She forced herself to push down the instinctive need to go after them immediately and find out. She couldn’t. Not when she was so close to killing a man who was as sick and depraved as his customers. Once she finished with her brother and made sure there weren’t any other innocents inside that house, she would go on the hunt. Whomever had them had better pray they were unharmed and safe.

Something moved at the edge of the scope’s vision and she swung the rifle in that direction. Biting down on a surge of fury, she breathed out slowly, took aim, and squeezed. The figure stiffened, stood for two heartbeats then dropped to the ground.

She moved the scope back in the direction of the shadowy figures. They were still where she’d seen them. The woman, distinguishable by her size, looked back where the body lay then turned in her direction.

Move damn it! Get away from the house! I need those kids out of the fucking way. As if hearing the softly breathed words, the figure abruptly stood and pushed the other three in front toward the trees and away from the structure.

Tamara waited, following their progress but also keeping track of any activity around the house. As she’d already ascertained, security wasn’t tight, but they probably assumed it didn’t need to be since their prisoners couldn’t escape and their patrons didn’t mind the seclusion, needed it for their sick business.

When the four were far enough away to be safe until she could get to them, she turned her rifle. Focusing several feet from where the woman and children had emerged she took aim on a large propane tank. The explosion should kill anyone still inside or anyone planning to follow the children. She slowly squeezed the trigger.

Her finger stopped a micrometer from completing the action when she heard the low rumble of an automobile’s engine. Having seen only one vehicle, she swung the rifle toward the sedan. Son of a bitch! She fired even before the taillights flashed red.

When the bullet punched a small, harmless hole into the body of the vehicle, she leaped to her feet, her teeth clenched, heart pounding almost painfully against her ribs. She fired again, hit the passenger window, but caused only minimal damage.

The brake lights flashed for an instant then the car was moving. She ran down the small rise pulling the trigger with each step. Each bullet found its mark but only punched small holes in the body and spider web cracks in the windows. The rear wheels spun sending dust into the air as the engine roared and the long, heavy car sped away.

A too familiar frustration mixed with the murderous anger pumping through her blood as she gave chase, her finger squeezing off round after round from the high-powered rifle at her shoulder. When it clicked on empty, she pressed the release letting the empty clip fall as she grabbed another full one from her pants pocket and slapped it in.

Her finger instantly pulled the trigger shattering the rear window, but not stopping the vehicle. In just moments, it was too far away for any bullets to reach. She slowed to a stop impotent rage pumping hot and high. You fucking son of a bitch! She screamed her hands gripping the rifle until her fingers went numb. The bastard had once more slipped from her grasp.

She stood for long moments staring at the red taillights as they grew smaller and dimmer. Her breath rushed between her clenched teeth, chest heaving from emotions rather than exertion. It was an effort not to rant and rave from the strength of the fury that pumped through her.

A faint sound from behind had her spinning, the rifle barrel pointing at chest level, finger squeezing the trigger. She didn’t say a word, her eyes focused, her fingers and body throbbing with the memory of the pain inflicted by order of the man who had gotten away.

Don’t! Savannah made sure the silenced pistol she carried in her right hand pointed at the ground. She was glad she’d been smart enough to keep it down when she met eyes that glittered with the coldest hatred she’d ever seen, recognizable even in the dim moonlight. Look, there’s no need for the gun. I’m not a threat. A shiver of fear ran down her spine when there wasn’t any change in the face or eyes of the woman. Hindsight suggested it hadn’t been the best time to approach her. You saved my life earlier. Why would you kill me now?

Tamara didn’t even try to control the icy fury Thomas’ escape had unleashed. Where are the children?

They’re safe. Savannah scrambled to find a reason not to die. A reason the woman in front of her would listen to before she pulled the trigger on the rifle pointed at her. Look, I’m not here to do anything except rescue them from those depraved bastards.

Those words did nothing to lessen the cold feral emotions running rampant inside that kept her finger on the trigger. Did the bitch think her words meant anything? That she’d instantly believe what she said when she’d never seen her before?

She remembered, hell would never forget, the last woman who had sworn an oath to protect children they’d rescued. Not just any woman, but her partner and an agent for The Company. A woman who had taken the four children they had just saved and turned them back to the sick bastards holding them captive. That same bitch hadn’t blinked an eye when the fifth one, Mary, was murdered. How did you know they were here?

Savannah saw no warming or softening in those dark eyes. Their color didn’t matter because the intent was clear as rage unlike any she’d ever seen or felt literally pumped from the woman’s pores. She slowly shook her head, her fingers tightening around the grip of the gun in the hand at her side even knowing she might not get a chance to use it. I can’t tell you that. There are other people involved and it could endanger too many children.

The emotions still pouring through Tamara’s veins rose up to burn hotter. Her eyes narrowed, her focus on the face covered with black grease paint. She took a step forward, her finger tightening on the trigger. So why the fuck are you still here?

Even knowing there was a possibility that the woman was protecting her source because of children there were too many other reasons that weren’t so innocent. That last thought had her finger tightening on the trigger again even though her control was reasserting itself. She took a slow breath. Maybe not fast enough because she still wanted to just squeeze the trigger and pump a high-powered shell into the woman with the smooth southern accent.

Savannah waved her free hand toward the house. I’m still here because there could be more children in that house. I didn’t have time to check after I found the three I managed to get out.

Tamara didn’t lower the gun or relax her grip as she took in more details of the woman. If there was a trap and the woman escaped, she needed to remember what she looked like so she could hunt her down.

It took only a few heartbeats to catalogue everything about her because even though the moonlight wasn’t bright, it revealed enough. The same black face paint as on her own face hid most of her features. A knit cap contained the woman’s hair and concealed the color whereas she’d slicked her own short, dark hair down and out of the way. The black stretch suit helped her blend into the night but couldn’t hide the parts that indicated her gender. Her own jeans, knit top, and boots were just as dark.

Everything about the woman stirred the rage simmering just below the surface especially since she’d distracted her long enough to allow Thomas time to get away. That sick bastard should be dead already. I should just kill you because of what your fucking interference cost me.

Savannah tensed at that cold, emotionless threat and almost raised her gun in defense of what she felt from the woman in front of her. She managed at the last second to control that instinct. Then get to it, because too much time has passed and there may still be children in that house. I’m going in to find out before anyone else shows up. She tightened her hand on her gun determined to try to get one shot off before she died.

Tamara realized she was right. Thomas was gone for the moment but she would find him again. Until then if there were children in that house, they needed to be gone before someone showed up and someone would show up soon. While tracking her brother she’d learned that after a location was hit, a cleanup team arrived as if by magic to quickly erase any traces that might be left behind, which included everything from bodies to fingerprints.

From long experience, she managed to push the emotions still trying to consume her down to a place where she could think instead of react. She moved her finger from the trigger of the rifle, but didn’t lower it. You go first. Try anything and I can promise you won’t ever again.

Savannah hesitated for a few moments not liking the idea of turning her back on anyone who was pointing a gun at her, but she could actually feel the minutes ticking by too fast. She finally nodded and turned toward the house. Someone had to show some trust or all of their efforts would be for nothing. Just remember that shooting me will cause more of a delay, she muttered as her gaze tracked across the area in front of her.

Tamara didn’t bother stating that it might do the opposite by getting one more obstacle out of her way. She looked around without taking her attention from the woman in front of her who still had the silenced pistol in her hand. She hadn’t demanded she hand it over knowing it would have taken a bullet to get it out of her hand. Although given that thought, it had been almost too tempting not to shoot without bothering with questions.

She kept several steps of distance between them, her eyes darting left and right searching for anyone she’d missed earlier. Before they reached the light from the porch, she pulled her Glock from its holster as she shifted the rifle out of the way. In close quarters, the rifle would be a hindrance. I asked you before, where are the children? she asked in a low enough tone it wouldn’t carry to anyone but the woman in front of her.

Savannah spared a quick glance over her shoulder noting that there was now a pistol pointed at her instead of the rifle. Just as deadly and more accurate up close. She searched the outside of the house before switching to the open front door as they moved up the steps. The tension she’d had since the woman turned on her had morphed into urgency to get inside and check it out quickly. They’re safe. I’ll take them to an even safer place later.

Tamara’s fingers tightened on the grip of the Glock at that vague answer, her anger pushing against the tight leash she had it under. Before it could explode, they were on the porch and staring down at the man slumped against the doorframe. There wasn’t any need to check for a pulse.

I know you want a better explanation, but right now we need to search this mausoleum. Savannah gritted out as she started raising her gun. I’m not walking into that house without being ready for an attack so I’m going to have my gun ready. Don’t shoot me or you’ll have to search this monstrosity by yourself. Just remember that the longer it takes the more danger everyone is in. She glanced over her shoulder and almost snarled in frustration to see the woman watching her with that cold gaze from eyes she saw now were a rich blue, her gun still pointed at her. Swinging her head back around, she almost released a sigh when a bullet didn’t punch its way into her.

Then I suggest you get moving, Tamara murmured softly as she listened for any sounds from inside, her gaze searching for movement. Stay close and in front of me or I’ll think you’re playing me. That would be a bad idea. She kept her finger light on the trigger, blood humming, adrenalin pumping even as her rage settled into a familiar coldness. She didn’t trust the woman, had learned not to trust anyone after everyone she knew, worked with and for turned on her.

Tamara followed as the woman stepped past the body and moved inside to where the second man she’d taken out sprawled face down in the foyer. It only took one glance to know that he wouldn’t be a problem either.

Satisfied that both of her shots were fatal, she listened to the house, but still didn’t hear anything; looked around and saw no movement. When the other woman glanced over her shoulder, she waved the gun to the right. She saw her lips tighten before she slowly nodded and turned to cross the granite floor.

Savannah wanted to protest that it would be easier and quicker if they split up. Those cold blue eyes told her it would be a waste of time and effort. Gritting her teeth, she moved silently across the large room forcing her attention to her surroundings.

Tamara searched the foyer and seeing no one or any place to hide focused her attention on the dimly lit room in front of them. They both stopped again when they reached the woman sprawled face down just inside the doorway.

A dark pool of blood spread out under her, turning her pale violet pantsuit a darker shade. Her shoulder length blonde hair covered and hid her features leaving only one side of her face showing. Knowing why she was in the house and her role in the activities that took place within its walls, she didn’t care who the woman was or what she looked like dead or alive. She felt nothing but anger and satisfaction that she would no longer destroy another child’s life or make any deals with Thomas or those like him.

She’s dead so move inside, Tamara breathed softly. When the woman stepped around the body and blood and to the left, she followed moving to the opposite side of the door. They both stayed still as they took in the old-fashioned sitting room.

Elegant, feminine, and expensively furnished, it looked anything but what it was and made her lips curl with distaste. No one was in the room although the lingering scent of a flowery perfume and sharper astringent male’s cologne still hung in the air.

Apparently, the transactions had finished even before her arrival. The knowledge of what took place there made her stomach twist into knots and sent her buried hatred clawing up her throat. How many deals did more than one bastard make in that room? How many glasses lifted in a toast to seal the fate of a child too young to know what horrors awaited them?

She wanted to destroy the room, hell the entire house, but not until she knew there wasn’t anything that might lead her to other places, other people in the same business. Even without moving, she knew she wouldn’t find it in that room because it didn’t contain anything but furniture. There weren’t any papers, no desk, nowhere to hide what she was looking for. After just a moment, she turned her head toward the woman and waved her gun back toward the entry.

Savannah nodded and stepped back through the doorway. Glimpsing movement on the stairs, she ducked and spun with gun raised. Her finger tightened on the trigger at the same moment she sensed movement behind her.

Tamara saw the woman crouch and lift her gun and instantly knew why. Her teeth clamped together as the hatred she’d felt inside for over three years exploded, cold, merciless, and directed. She stepped around the woman and fired at the man stopped halfway down the staircase. He jerked once then jerked again as she fired at the same time the woman did. When their two bullets plowed into him, he fell backwards onto the stairs before sliding down the next two.

Her eyes swept the top of the stairs and the foyer her gun moving with her as she searched for any other surprises. When no one else was visible, she moved toward the woman as she rose to her feet. We need to move faster, she murmured her gun now at her side all senses on alert.

Savannah threw a quick glance at the woman who stood a foot back and to one side of her. When she met those blue eyes, which were as cold as any she’d ever seen, she simply nodded. At least she no longer pointed the gun at her. She started across the foyer toward the other side.

Tamara slowly followed, deliberately using the woman to draw the attention of anyone else that appeared. She didn’t stop looking and listening, the hairs on the back of her neck refusing to settle as they quickly checked the dining room and kitchen. There were only two door leading out of the dining room, one into the foyer and one into the kitchen with nowhere for anyone to hide. The kitchen with its large walk-in pantry was also empty.

Moments later, they were standing at the foot of the stairs. Tamara stepped onto the first step, her gaze scanning the corridor above. You take the rooms on the left; I’ll take the ones on the right. She took the next step up when the woman beside her nodded and did the same. They needed to move more quickly because too much time had passed and any minute armed men would be showing up. Besides, she would make sure the woman didn’t leave her sight or have a chance to turn on her.

Silently, they traveled up the elegant staircase stepping around the body sprawled on it their guns raised and ready. The silence was heavy and complete. Neither spoke even when they reached the second level and moved the few feet apart to check the rooms on either side of the hallway.

Opening each closed door, they made sure the rooms were empty before moving on to the next. Tamara looked over at the woman as they stopped two doors from the end of the hallway. So far, all the rooms were empty, no children, no adults, but that didn’t mean...

The blast was loud, wood splinters spitting through the air and burying into the closest object. She stooped, swung away from the door, and crouched with her back pressed against the wall. As she stared at the woman on the floor across the hall, she wiped at the small stinging wounds on her neck. Stupid! She should have been more watchful.

She let several seconds pass. The woman didn’t move. Well, if she was dead, it was one less thing to worry about.

Sliding up the wall, she tucked her pistol into its holster and jerked up the sawed off shotgun strapped to her thigh. She swung around, pulled the trigger on the first barrel satisfied to see wood fly inward from the large hole that appeared and the scream that resulted.

She kicked the door open, stepped inside and swung the barrel in the direction she’d heard the scream before quickly pulling the trigger again. The man behind the chair on the far side of the room slammed into the wall behind him, his arms jerking up, pistol flying from his hand as holes appeared in his white shirt and began to seep red.

Slapping the shotgun back into its holster she pulled her Glock out and crossed the room before he’d even hit the floor. She stood over him staring into light brown eyes widened by surprise and disbelief before the life in them faded.

Another hired thug. She’d run across quite a few while tracking her brother. Just like more than a few of those others, he would never help anyone sell another child to a monster.

She took aim and pulled the trigger once. His head knocked back against the wall with a soft thump. A hole appeared between those cloudy eyes and deep red liquid darkened the white paint.

Spinning, she checked the still empty doorway before searching the rest of the room. Nothing useful and no one else hiding.

She returned to the hall. The woman was sitting up, her back pressed to the wall. Well, fuck, she muttered not overly pleased to see that she was still alive. She walked over, stood looking down at her as she listened to the still silent house. Anything vital hit?

Savannah shook her head, her fingers wrapped tightly around her upper arm. No, but it’s bleeding too damned much. Clenching her teeth against the pain streaking down to the hand holding her gun, she did her best to hold onto it. The rest of the rooms need to be checked. Could be more of those bastards up here.

Tamara smiled thinly, barely negating the instinct to take the woman’s gun away. If you shoot me in the back, you’d better make sure your aim is true, she said as she popped the clip out of her gun, checked the remaining bullets then pushed it back in. Scoot over. You’re too close to the line of fire. Her voice was a soft whisper but the woman heard her and shifted out of the way.

She grabbed the doorknob, twisted, and pushed the door in as she stepped out of the way. No shots or shouted threats. She crouched, peered around the corner, and then moved quickly inside and behind a chair. Glancing to the left then right, she didn’t see or hear anyone. When she was sure it was unoccupied, she stood, checked it more thoroughly then stepped back out into the hallway.

With a glance down at the woman who simply raised a brow with a twisted smile but didn’t move, she headed toward the last two doors, both closed. It took only moments to check them and make sure they were as empty as the others.

Returning to the hall, she dropped the hand holding the pistol to her side. It’s clear. She stayed a step away as the woman pushed to her feet using the wall for support. She noticed, but didn’t mention the blood that smeared the wall behind her head where it had hit hard enough to break skin.

The woman still hadn’t told her where the three children she’d removed from the house were, but she would before they were finished with each other. She nodded at the hand she held around her arm, the fingers and back streaked with red. That needs to be tended. How far away are the children and your transportation?

Savannah shook her head. Not far and I need to get back to them.

Tamara didn’t state the obvious when she saw the woman’s enlarged pupils. Could be a mild concussion, which combined with blood loss meant she’d probably lose consciousness before reaching wherever she was going. She needed to know those children were safe and that wasn’t something