Page 69 of Throne of Secrets

Five minutes later, they entered an industrial zone in Newark. Fenced-in lots and storage facilities lined the cracked pavement, some abandoned, others active with forklifts loading cargo containers. Ethan spotted the cop’s car pulling into an old and deserted storage facility’s lot before disappearing behind a row of storage units.

“He’s stopping,” Max confirmed. “Satellite shows a single entrance. Chain-link fence around the perimeter. No cameras inside.”

Ethan pulled the vehicle to a stop a block away, keeping them out of sight. He killed the engine, the sudden silence pressing down on them. The heat from the sun, even that late in the afternoon, made the air shimmer off the pavement.

Lycos shifted slightly. “We go in quiet. No spooking him.”

Ethan nodded, heart pounding. “And when we have him?”

Lycos exhaled slowly, his voice calm but laced with finality. “Not your concern. Star is your concern.”

Ethan met his father’s gaze, unspoken understanding passing between them. One way or another, it ended that day.

They got out of the Guardian SUV and left the doors open. No noise to let the bastard know they were following him.

Then, without warning, a deep boom echoed across the lot. A transformer at the far end of the paved area, perched above the rusted metal shed, exploded, sending a brilliant blue-white arc of electricity streaking through the air. Sparks rained down, bouncing off the corroded roof, hissing as they met the dust-covered metal.

The violent surge sent one of the power lines snapping loose, whipping violently before it slammed against the ground near the shed. The line hissed and sizzled as jagged energy streaks skittered like snakes across the surface. It was within inches of the small shed. Smoke curled up, the air thick with the acrid stench of burning insulation.

When the bastard ran toward the shed and skittered to a stop, Ethan grabbed his dad’s arm as reality dawned like a sunburst of knowledge. “Star’s in there.”

Lycos pulled them behind one of the units. “You can’t know that.”

“Believe me, if something like that happened, she’s right in the middle of it,” Ethan growled.

Lycos pulled a silenced pistol from his holster, checking the magazine. “You get to Star. I’ll clean up the other issue.”

Ethan met his father’s gaze. Then, without another word, they moved.

CHAPTER18

Star woke slowly. Her head felt like it was splitting in half, and she was hot. Damn hot. The metal shed was a sauna. The tape the cop had used flapped against her cheek. Pushing out the revolting piece of cloth he’d shoved into her mouth, she tried to wet her mouth, but it was impossible. She was dehydrated and sick to her stomach, and the drugs or whatever the cop had given her made her head hurt so bad. She laid her head down and closed her eyes. Ethan would find her. She drifted in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours, but when she finally woke up, head raging like two sledgehammers were working in tandem on her skull, she was fully awake.

Carefully, she flexed her fingers and toes. The pain was intense, but at least they weren’t numb. She had some blood flow to her extremities.Good. Okay, that was good. She narrowed her eyes and took in the shed where she was tossed.

Star wiggled, trying to loosen the zip ties. The pain stopped that real quick. Then she tried to scoot backward toward the wall, but her shoulder hit something, and a ton of crap fell on top of her. She curled into a ball and closed her eyes tightly.Oh, crud.This is really not going well.Opening one eye, she blinked at the mess all around her. Somehow, she’d knocked over an old shelving unit. The cans on the shelves tumbled down, narrowly missing her head.

Her shoulder screamed in pain, so she tried to roll over and accidentally kicked what she thought was a box, but it turned out to be an old paint bucket. It tipped, the lid popping off as a thick, gloppy mess oozed out.

“Oh, great,” she muttered. “Just what I needed. What is it with me and paint cans?”

A clatter sounded above her. Then, a long, agonizing creak.

Oh no.

The ceiling was old. Really old.And Star’s flailing must have weakened something important. Because with one last sharp groan?—

Crack.

The entire panel above her head collapsed. A deafening screech of rusted metal giving way was the only warning before dust and debris rained down like a filthy avalanche. Something alive—small and scurrying—skittered across her shoulder.

Star shrieked, jerking so violently she knocked herself sideways into the shelving along the side of the shed. The shelves wobbled precariously. She sucked in a sharp breath, struggling to sit up. But as she leaned back, the shelving unit she’d bumped into earlier decided it had had enough. With a metallic groan, it surrendered to gravity, toppling over in a chaotic crash that sent more dust and junk cascading over her.

Star lay in the wreckage, panting. When everything settled around her, she opened one eye and then the other. Disaster area was an understatement. “Geez. That went well.”

Looking left, her eyes widened. The rusted metal panel from the roof now laid precariously close, jagged and deadly. She inched away from it, barely breathing. Her movement jarred something loose, and the sharp edge of a large piece of the roof slid against her arm, cold and menacing. It rested there without cutting her.

“Got it. Not moving.” She filled her lungs and screamed, “HELP!”

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