“Put your hands behind your back.”

Teddy huffed. “You can’t tie my hands and hold that gun at the same time.” The tension in his hands and neck said he was about to try something stupid.

“You’re right about that.” I flicked the safety back on and leaned farther out the window, then swung the gun as hard as I could. The butt slammed into the back of his head. Ted crumpled to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.

I climbed out the window, already shivering violently, and when I was sure Ted was still breathing—thanks to the white puffs of air floating in front of his face—I rolled him onto his stomach and dug his handcuffs from his pocket. Then I took perverse pleasure in restraining him with his own cuffs. That’s like being shot with your own gun or stabbed with your own knife. Insult to injury.

I liked the irony.

Teddy’s eyes fluttered, and he moaned, already waking up. It was hard to get in a good swing when you’re hanging out a window.

Since I didn’t have any other way to keep him quiet, I kicked him in the back of the skull, and his head rolled to the left. He was out cold that time. And only once my adrenaline rush began to fade did I realize I’d cuffed him before taking off his coat. Again. And a quick search revealed that he didn’t have the keys on him. I was getting too cuff-happy for my own good. Fortunately, I was also free, armed with two guns I didn’t know how to use, and filled with the satisfaction of having single-handedly disarmed and disabled two members of Malone’s “elite” task force.

And I was freezing my ass off.

I double-checked the safety on the new pistol, then slid the barrel into the front waistband of my jeans—uncomfortably aware that I was now the meat in a two-handgun sandwich—then glanced around to get my bearings. My room was on the side of the lodge; the front was to my left and the back was to my right.

I edged along slowly with my back to the wall, while a clock ticked softly in my head. It wouldn’t take long for them to realize I was gone, and I had to free Marc and Jace before that happened. But when I rounded the back corner of the lodge, I discovered via the light and noise pouring from an uncovered kitchen window that I would be in plain sight during my dash across the yard toward the shed where they were being held.

Fortunately, the shed entrance was on the left-hand wall, so the guard hadn’t yet seen me. But a straightforward approach would never work. Even in the dark, when I refused to identify myself, he’d either shoot or shout for backup.

Frustrated and half-frozen, I backtracked quickly, then dashed across the side yard, heading for the woods as quietly as possible. Under the cover of trees, I stopped to Shift my eyes. Light from the cabin didn’t reach the tree line, and in my clumsy two-legged form, with inadequate human vision, I’d never make it to the shed without stumbling and giving myself away.

Now better prepared, I picked my way through the underbrush, aiming for piles of pine needles rather than crunchy fallen leaves, until I saw the shed directly ahead. And the tom on duty, too dark to identify from such a distance.

I could tell from his carriage and bearing that I didn’t know him. However, the chances of him not knowing me were slim to none, so the “Hey, I got lost in the woods” routine probably wouldn’t work.

But then again… He couldn’t see as well as I could in the dark, and our sense of smell is nowhere near as good in human form as in cat form. And he wouldn’t be expecting Malone’s most infamous prisoner—whom he didn’t know had escaped—to come tripping out of the woods.

Maybe if I go for the Oscar…

In the absence of a good plan, any plan will work. I moved Teddy’s gun from the front of my waistband to the back, next to Alex’s. My heart was racing, but that was good—a natural physiological response from a damsel in true distress. After a single moment’s hesitation, I took a deep breath and stumbled out of the woods.

I tripped on purpose, breathing hard, and glanced over my shoulder at the trees I could see much better than could the guard. Half sobbing I pushed myself to my feet and stumbled a few steps farther.

“Hey!” the guard called, and I flinched over his volume. “What are you…?”

“Oh, thank goodness!” I gasped, obviously winded from my race through the woods. Hopefully he wouldn’t stop to wonder why he hadn’t heard me coming. “There’s something out there. Chasing me…” I jogged toward him, half twisted to point at the woods—and to keep my face averted. I panted and heaved, like I could hardly breathe. “Something big. I heard it. Huffing. Growling.”

He glanced over my shoulder, his hand going to his waistband in an automatic, natural gesture, and I had a moment to wonder if I’d found the one tom who was truly good with his gun.

“Run!” I gasped. “It’s right behind me.”

“I don’t hear any…”

When he didn’t move, I let myself collide with him, collapsing into his arms like beauty running from the beast. That way he was too busy holding me up to go for his gun. But I wasn’t. When he stood me up, I grabbed the 9 mm from his waistband—my third capture in half an hour. Not bad for a girl, huh?

“What the…”

“Shut up and face the shed.” I shoved him around by one shoulder. “You even look like you’re gonna move, and I’ll shoot you through the thigh.”

“Look, I don’t have any cash, and you have no idea what you’ve stumbled into.”