“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” the man holding her said in a singsong voice that was chilling. “Unless you want me to cut her throat right in front of you, you’ll come out with your hands in the air.”
“Now why would I do that?” Bishop drawled, his voice coming from another direction. “You’re just going to kill me.”
“Don’t you want to save your lady friend?”
“You’re a sick bastard, Clement, and we both know it. She’d be better off if you cut her throat—a quick, clean death. I wouldn’t want to leave her behind for you to take your time with her.” The voice had moved again, now to their left.
“If you say so, old friend. I can always find someone to play my games if this one has to be sacrificed. You have any last words for her? You want to tell her you love her? Give her the lie so she can die happy?”
“How do you know it’s a lie?” came the voice, and the man Bishop had called Clement turned, pulling her with him, the knife blade still resting against her neck, as he peered between the brush.
“I’ve known you for years, Edmunds. People like us are missing something. We can’t love, we don’t feel guilt, and we do what needs to be done. You need to die, and if she won’t work to draw you out, then she’s of no use to me.”
Evangeline felt the blade bite in deeper, and more warm blood spread down her chest, soaking into the towel. She was going to die, naked, in the middle of nowhere, and they’d probably never find her body. It was a lousy, ignominious fate for a tenured professor, and one more thing she could blame on Bishop.
“Don’t be so quick, Clement. That’s always been your problem—too fast off the mark. You get many complaints about that from your women?” Bishop’s disembodied voice was soft, taunting.
“My women aren’t usually in any shape to complain when I’m done with them. So this one is important to you? I thought she might be, though I admit it surprises me. I’ve never known you to give a shit about anyone.”
“I don’t.” He seemed farther away now, and Evangeline wondered if he was just going to disappear and leave her with this monster. “But have you taken a good look at her? Why waste all that gorgeousness if you don’t need to?”
She felt the man’s head move as he looked down, and then to her horror he pulled the towel away from her, dropping it on the ground. She clenched her jaw. If she didn’t get out of this alive then she was going to haunt James Bishop into madness.
Clement shrugged against her, and it made the knife bite in again, and more warm blood slide down her body. “She’s not my type. Not enough tits and ass. But if she’s yours, then you’d better show yourself or there’s not going to be much left of her. I’ll count to ten . . .”
“Don’t bother, James,” she called out in a caustic voice. “He’s going to kill both of us, so don’t waste any noble gesture on me. It would ring false.”
“I’m incapable of noble gestures, Angel,” Bishop said, suddenly close at hand, and the man holding her was yanked back.
She went flying, landing on the hard ground. She was stark naked, covered with blood, and she lay there, stunned for a moment, until her eyes focused on the men.
Bishop and the erstwhile border guard were rolling in the dust, grappling with each other. Bishop had a knife as well, though his wasn’t as big as the guard’s weapon, and they looked like strangers, people she’d never seen before, as they rolled and grunted and fought. It was far from a clean fight—the guard kept trying to knee Bishop in the crotch, and Bishop was equally vicious, the violence so thick in the air that it made her ill.
The border guard had his lips drawn back from his teeth in a feral grin as he straddled Bishop, but a moment later Bishop tossed him off as he rolled away, and there was a patch of blood beneath Bishop’s arm. He was the one who was truly scary, fighting with such icy calm and determination that she never once considered he might not win.
They broke apart and were both on their feet so quickly, it was almost synchronized. Then they circled each other. Bishop was edging closer, keeping his body between her and Clement, and without looking at her, he growled, “Get the fuck out of here, Angel. This piece of trash won’t take long to deal with, but you don’t need to watch.”
She was still slightly dazed, but she knew a lie when she heard one. For some reason he wasn’t sure he could stop the man, and he wanted her out of the way. She wanted to be out of the way as well, whether he won or lost, and if the two men kept each other busy, she could make her way to the truck; hopefully he’d left the keys in it. Even if he hadn’t, she could manage—she had a spare hidden under the seat. The canopy was out on the trailer, and the road that had brought them to this clearing was little more than a path. The thought of driving out of there wearing nothing at all wasn’t enough to stop her. She and Annabelle would make it.
“I won’t leave without Merlin,” she said, shaking off her stupid wish that she had something, anything, to cover her body.
“What’d you do with the dog, Clement?” Bishop’s voice was silky. “If you hurt him, I’ll make you very sorry.”
Clement snorted. “You think I’m an idiot? Killing dogs causes more trouble than it’s worth. Even Colombian drug lords get sentimental over their dogs, and if I got the reputation that I off animals, I wouldn’t be able to get a job anywhere.”
“Sweet of you,” Evangeline muttered.
“I said get the fuck out of here,” Bishop said again in a cold, hard voice she would never have recognized. “I’ll find Merlin after I finish with this prick and we’ll come after you.”
Now why didn’t that thought fill her with dread? She should do what he told her to do—get the hell away from there and just hope he wasn’t able to find her later. Except . . . she wasn’t going to leave Merlin.
In fact, she wasn’t going to leave Bishop either. If Clement got the drop on him she could always leap onto his back, distract him long enough to give Bishop the advantage again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m going to beat you after I kill Clement,” he said through gritted teeth, never taking his eyes off the other man.
Clement laughed. “You can’t even make your woman obey you, Edmunds? I thought you had more balls than that. She’ll appreciate having a real man take care of her after I kill you.”
Bishop was still moving, always keeping her guarded. “You’re a real man, Clement? Then why do you have to fuck women you’re going to kill? No one else hold still for you?”