“Insult me all you want, cat man. You don’t scare me.”

He leaned in close to her. “I terrify you,” he clarified. “You can’t manipulate me. You can’t do a damn thing but wait to see if I’m telling you the truth or not.”

She didn’t flinch or back down. “I still have choices.”

“And what would they be?”

“I could kill us both, you ass. Right now. Sink my teeth into you, inject you with a lethal dose of venom and let you break my neck.”

As a rule, he knew black widows rarely caused fatalities with their bites, although they were reputed to have fifteen times the venom strength of a rattlesnake, but without a doubt, Whitney had seen to it that she could kill. Trap believed her. He just didn’t care.

He dragged her closer to him, his mouth inches from hers. “Then do it. Fucking kill us both. Die without ever walking free. Be that stupid.”

Cayenne’s resistance only added to his awareness of her. Her breath. The rise and fall of her breasts as she inhaled and exhaled. The length of her lashes and the way her skin was so soft it seemed to melt into his. He refused to acknowledge his awareness of her. He glared down at her, waiting for her to submit.

“Now who’s being stupid?” she asked, and relaxed into him. “You would have died just to prove you’re all manly.”

“I’m going to let you go, but you hear what I’m saying to you. If I find out that you’re hurting innocents for any reason, I’ll hunt you down and kill you without a qualm. Do you understand me?”

She didn’t look away. She didn’t flinch. She stared him straight in the eye, her small white teeth inches from his face. All the while she smiled at him as she nodded her head slowly. He wanted to slap her. Or kiss her. He wasn’t certain which.

He flung her away from him, using a little more force than he meant to. “Get out of here, then.”

She turned at the last moment in midair. Her hands and feet met the wall and she clung there for a moment before racing up toward the vent. Her small fingers slid into the screen and she wrenched it loose, screws and all. Clearly she had a spider’s strength. Her hair fell in clouds of black silk down her back, the streak of red very prominent, reminding him of the hourglass on a spider’s belly. Cayenne disappeared into the duct.

Trap swore under his breath and dusted off the last bits of silk. She was ridiculous. Seriously flawed. She had really considered killing them both. He’d seen it in her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to submit, not for a moment, to his will. He couldn’t imagine the havoc she would have created in Whitney’s labs. He still wasn’t certain whether or not he’d just let a serial killer loose on the world, but he meant what he said. If he learned she harmed an innocent, he would find her and kill her.

The woman is making her way out through the air ducts, Wyatt. I’m giving myself a couple of minutes and then I’ll be out of here. Is Pepper out yet with the babies?

It’s slow goin’, Wyatt reported. She’s tryin’. We’re pullin’ everythin’ off these computers as fast as we can.

He sounded as weary as Trap felt. Trap slid down the wall to sit on the floor. He needed just a few minutes to collect himself before he went through the concrete again.

I’ll need help once I’m out. He despised admitting it. Despised having to tell the others he would be too weak and sick to make it back to the airboat on his own.

I’ll meet you outside the wall, Malichai said. Ezekiel can cover the others as they retreat. Pepper and the children will be coming out on his side. Is the woman coming back with us? Where is she meeting us?

Hell no. She’s gone in the wind and good riddance, Trap said. That one is more trouble than she’s worth.

Wyatt laughed softly. You really liked her then?

Trap swore at him. No one could like that woman. Not even a saint. He took another deep breath as he stared at the wall. He didn’t like the wall any more than he liked the woman. He swore again just for the hell of it.

How much longer, Wyatt, Ezekiel asked. Draden says you need medical attention immediately.

I gave myself medical attention, Wyatt snapped back.

Wyatt, Trap cautioned. It’s not like we can do without you. Any of us. It was an admission of his weakness. One he rarely admitted to.

I can do this, Wyatt said. Just get out of there, Trap, and everyone stop worryin’ about me.

Oh, yeah, Malichai said. He’s hurt or he wouldn’t be so grumpy. Bayou Bear has joined us and he’s never any picnic.

Shut the hell up.

Now Wyatt really sounded like Trap felt. Before Trap could think much more about it, he pressed both hands into the wall and gave himself up to the properties, the mixture of components that made up concrete. His entire body shuddered. He felt the terrible pull on his skin and his stomach lurched. He nearly pulled away, but knew if he did he wouldn’t be able to force himself to face going through the wall again.

He cursed the woman all over again. She wasn’t worth this torture. So much for being the white knight. Darkness descended. Bitter cold. He felt lost and alone, afraid he wouldn’t make it through. He tried to project a forward motion, tried to stop the mind-numbing terror from taking him over completely, but there was no way out and no one to save him.

Something moved in his mind. Just for a moment. Something or someone. He felt the connection as if a hand reached for him, fingers brushing across his face, and then he was through the wall and out into the night. He collapsed onto the ground, going down hard, unable to catch himself. His hands dug into the soil for an anchor. Anything real. He needed to feel the heat of the night and the dirt and vegetation in his hands.