Ice, Stone, blast, blast, grab, lift, throw away . . .

   I repeated the motions over and over again until I’d blasted the entire trapdoor out of the way. I waved away a cloud of gray dust, leaned over, and peered down through the jagged hole that I’d made in the floor.

   A glimmer of gold glinted in the dark space below.

   For a moment, the odd, horrible thought filled my mind that I’d only discovered Rivera’s stash of lipstick. But the dust cleared, and I realized that the golden glimmer was actually a strand of long blond hair.

   I’d finally found Elissa.

23

   I sat down, scooted over, and dropped through the hole in the floor. My boots hit hard-packed dirt, and I straightened up and glanced around.

   The area was only about six feet high and twelve feet wide, making it bigger than a crawl space but not quite large enough to be a bona fide basement. A wooden ladder that I hadn’t noticed before led up to what had been the trapdoor. Shelves lined the walls, but I didn’t take the time to see what was perched on them. Dust hung in thick clouds in the air, the particles slowly drifting down and turning everything a dull, murky gray.

   Elissa was sitting just to the right of the trapdoor ladder, tied to a chair, with heavy ropes binding her wrists and ankles. She wore a fancy red cocktail dress, along with matching stilettos, and someone had taken the time to curl her long blond hair into sleek waves that cascaded over her shoulders. She looked beautiful, and if not for the ropes, I would have thought that she was a model, patiently sitting and waiting to be called to some photo shoot.

   Her head was bowed, her blond hair hiding her face from sight, and her entire body was still—much too still. My heart stopped, and my breath caught in my throat. I wondered if I was already too late, wondered if she was already dead, beaten and strangled by Damian Rivera like all those other women.

   After several long, agonizing seconds, Elissa slowly lifted her head, shook her hair out of the way, and peered up at me, squinting against the harsh glare of the still-flashing lights in the cottage above. My heart started beating again, and my breath left my lungs in a rush. Alive. She was still alive.

   But my relief was short-lived.

   Elissa’s face had been carefully, expertly made up with foundation, powder, eyeliner, and shadow, highlighting her green eyes and beautiful cheekbones. But the thing that made my blood run cold was her lipstick—­Heartbreaker red, just like all the other women.

   No cuts or bruises marked her skin, and no fingerprints ringed her throat. But that ugly stain on her mouth told me I’d gotten here just in time.

   “Who are you?” Elissa’s lips moved, forming the words, but her voice was so weak and low that I couldn’t hear it over the blaring alarm.

   “I’m a friend of Jade’s!” I shouted, trying to get her to understand that I was here to rescue her.

   Elissa’s eyes widened. “Jade!”

   I nodded, stepped forward, and palmed a knife, quickly cutting through her bonds. Then I slid my knife back up my sleeve and helped her stand. Elissa wobbled, her body stiff from sitting in the same position for so long, but she gripped my arm and let me lead her over to the ladder.

   “Go!” I yelled, although I wasn’t sure that she heard me over the alarm. “Go! Go! Go!”

   With shaking hands and legs, Elissa climbed the ladder. I hung on to the side and helped her. It seemed to take forever, but she finally crawled through the opening at the top about ten seconds later. I scrambled up after her, as nimbly as a spider climbing its own web, and pulled her up and onto her feet. Elissa wobbled again, a result of the towering high heels she was wearing, but she staggered across the cottage and out through the open front door.

   Owen was waiting outside, his gun up and ready to fire. “They see us!” he yelled. “The guards see us, and they’re heading this way!”

   Sure enough, several dwarven guards armed with guns were up at the mansion, frantically running around the pool area and searching for who or what had triggered the alarm. Owen was right. A couple of them had spotted us and were yelling at their friends and pointing in this direction. The men began racing down the lawn toward us.

   Owen stepped up and fired off several shots. Even though he was too far away to hit them, the gunfire still made the men stop and hunker down behind the bushes and trees for cover. But I knew that it wouldn’t be long before they charged at us again.

   “Don’t let them take me back down there!” Elissa sobbed, tears running down her face and ruining her perfect makeup.

   I looked her in the eyes. “The only place you’re going is back home to your sister. Now, do what Owen tells you, and everything will be fine. Do you understand?”

   Elissa glanced from me to Owen and back again. She nodded, her head snapping up and down, ready to do anything to escape from this nightmare.

   Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the guards getting to their feet and creeping in this direction again. Owen noticed them too, and he fired off a few more shots. The men scattered again, but this time, they started darting from bush to bush and tree to tree, hopscotching down the lawn until they could get close enough to open fire on us. Time to go.

   I handed Elissa over to Owen, then raised my hand to my ear, trying to hear over that damn alarm, which was still ringing as loudly as ever. I’d be surprised if they couldn’t hear it all the way over in Cypress Mountain.

   “Finn?” I said. “Finn? Are you still there?”

   His voice crackled in my ear. “Of course I’m still here! What’s going on?”

   “We found Elissa, but the guards are heading toward us. I need you and Bria to come back to the woods to help Owen.”

   “On our way,” Finn replied.

   I looked over at Owen. “Go. Get her out of here. Now.”

   “What are you going to do?” he asked, worry flashing in his eyes.