Page 108 of Stolen Omega

I’m going to be seriously pissed off if this flight doesn’t get us anywhere.

I turn my gaze to the window as we rise into the air.

The queasy feeling in my stomach increases, and I cough through the urge to dry-heave, trying not to let it make me any worse. Archer glances back at me, and I shake my head.

I’m fine. I’ll get through this.

Zelena’s the one we need to worry about.

Our true mate has been kidnapped, and we’re doing everything we can to find her.

We won’t stop until she’s safe. Whatever it takes.

I focus on what I’m seeing outside.

It’s a whole lot easier now that it’s light out.

We’re barely five minutes away from Harris’ farm when I spot something below that might be the van. I reach forward and shake Archer’s shoulder. I point out the window when he looks back at me.

It takes him a second to turn back around and look, but he sees what I do, and he directs Harris to land the copter. There’s enough clearance below us to allow the landing, which feels pretty damned lucky until I see the lights in the dirt below.

Holy fucking shit. That looks like a private runway for a fucking plane.

We start to land, and my stomach lurches hard when we touch the ground.

I unstrap myself, throw the door open, and carefully clamber out of the aircraft.

The breeze from the propellers above me makes me shiver, but I ignore that while I move away from it. I can see the van across this old field. It’s partially hidden in the shadows of a barn, but it’s definitely the right size and shape.

I stagger toward it, glancing back to see the shock on Archer’s face before he darts forward.

“It was five fucking minutes away from Harris’ farm this whole fucking time!”

I take in the registration, and I have to grab Archer’s arm to keep myself steady.

He helps me walk around to the back, where the doors have been left open.

My knees are wonky as hell, and my foot connects with something in the grass as I shuffle forward.

“Wait,” I tell Archer. “Look.”

There’s a syringe on the ground. It only stops rolling because of a lump of black wool in front of it.

Archer crouches to take a closer look, his lips set in a grim line as he gets back to his feet.

“Empty,” he tells me, which I’d already assumed.

I don’t feel any better knowing I was right.

We move around the evidence on the ground, going to the back of the van.

It hits me that this isn’t over before we even get to those double doors.

We both know the van is empty, too.

The sight of the open box isn’t a surprise.

Zelena’s kidnappers already took her someplace else.

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