Cormac would have understood. Cormac would have approved, so I couldn’t argue.

Grant paused in front of me. I’d been staring at the body, and I turned to him reluctantly. “You look like you want to say something.”

I shook my head. “I don’t have anything to say.”

His expression didn’t change. It hardly ever did. But he put his hand on my shoulder, a brief touch, a faint comfort.

Anastasia was the one to finally ask, “What did you learn?”

“They’re still filming us,” he said. “They’re planning on selling the footage as proof that monsters can be killed. That they ought to be killed.”

“A snuff film?” I said, astounded.

Grant nodded. “Provost and Cabe are his partners. They’re out there now. I saw two bases of operation, one near the lodge and one near the outgoing trail. They attacked Jerome and Kitty from that one. They have us trapped, and they have all the time in the world.”

“Then we go after them,” Lee said. “We know where they are now, we go get them, then get the hell out of here.”

“They have weapons,” Anastasia said. “They’re entrenched. We’re too vulnerable. That’s exactly how they planned it.”

“So we flush them out,” I said, because that was what Cormac would say and how he’d have handled this. He sure as hell wouldn’t sit here waiting for the bad guys to come to us. Get the upper hand. Startle them.

“How do we do that?” Lee said, anxious, frustrated. Sweat shone on his brow, and the ocean smell of him was stronger.

I picked up the walkie-talkie from the pile of Valenti’s leavings, switched it on, and pressed talk. Everyone in the room cringed or lurched, making various noises of protest—what the hell was I doing?

Poking the wasp nest. I was good at that sort of thing.

“Hell-lo-ooooo,” I said, singsong, into the speaker. Moving to the front door, I cracked it, turning my ear to the great outdoors to hear what I could. I let my finger off the button and waited, listening through the static hiss for something more meaningful. And waited. My heart was thumping hard, but I didn’t let on. I was in the middle of a practical joke, and I was determined to find this little piece of it funny. I grinned while the others watched, horrified. Except for Grant, who smiled, just a little.

Then the static clicked and shifted, and words came through. “Hello? Valenti?”

And that was Joey Provost’s voice, with the show business veneer rubbed off. What was left was backstabbing manipulator. Such a fine line between the two. I didn’t hear anything outside; he wasn’t close, which was something.

“’Fraid not. It’s Kitty Norville. Thanks for calling The Midnight Hour. Do you have a problem you’d like to talk about?”

I waited through another few moments of poignant static before hearing, “Where’s Valenti?”

“Ooh, that’s a really tough question. How religiously inclined are you?”

“Bitch,” he hissed.

“I love it when people call me that, it’s so meta. Just tell me one thing—what made you think you could get away with this? Get away with murder?”

He didn’t answer. I waited, listening through static for a long time. For all I knew, he’d shut his device off. I’d hoped Provost would be stupider than that. I’d hoped he’d have to talk, then give something away, like an undefended location. I threw the walkie-talkie down. Which Cormac probably wouldn’t have done.

“Consider them flushed,” I said.

“Then we have the offensive, at least for a little while,” Anastasia said. “What do you think they’ll do?”

I took a deep breath. Took a flyer. “I think they’ll come here. They’ll want to find out what happened to Valenti, and then they’ll want to take us down fast. They may not bother with the horror show anymore.”

“Agreed,” Grant said. “Then we should move fast. Get out there and find their hunting blinds. Clear them out, leave them without equipment. Then we go back to our original plan to get out and call the police.”

“It’ll be dawn soon,” Gemma said. She sounded small, like a scared kid. Did Valenti and his crew even think of her as a kid? Or just as a monster?

Anastasia said, “We have a few hours. We’ll be fine, Gemma.” An unspoken trust me finished the sentence. Gemma pretty much had to trust her, didn’t she?

“Lee, you’re a hunter. You can use this?” Grant handed him Valenti’s sniper rifle. He took it, and he smiled a little. A fire lit his eyes.

“Did your voodoo magic show tell you where these blinds are?” I said to Grant. “Exactly where?”

He didn’t answer right away, but Tina said, “I saw them. We both did.” Jeffrey nodded.

Grant’s lips thinned to a line. “I was hoping you had.”

We broke into teams. Lee, Tina, and I would go after the blind by the outgoing trail. Tina would help guide us, based on the images Grant had produced. After destroying what we could of the blind and the weapons we assumed we’d find there, we’d continue on to get help. If we encountered more silver-tainted barriers, like the razor wire, Tina could help clear the way. If need be, I could run ahead while Tina and Lee waited. Jeffrey, Anastasia, and Gemma would look for the blind closer to the lodge. Anastasia took the handgun so both parties went armed. Originally, Grant wanted Gemma to stay inside. She refused, wanting to stay with Anastasia. So Grant would wait at the lodge in case the remaining hunters came back.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay by yourself?” I asked him. It was a stupid question. Of course Grant could take care of himself.

“I’ll be fine,” he said.

Were there really only seven of us left? Maybe Conrad had gotten away okay. Maybe he’d found help.

We stood on the porch, getting ready to head out. I felt the need to add instructions. “Remember, we’re not going after Cabe and Provost. We’re going after their stuff. It’s probably best if we avoid them entirely.”

“But, you know, if you get a shot off,” Lee said.

“Kitty’s right,” Grant said. “Don’t take stupid chances. And there are probably still traps out there. Be careful.”

Words of the day, really.

Chapter 17

Tina walked close behind me, within arm’s reach, because she didn’t have good night vision and needed me to guide her. Lee walked a few paces to my right, carrying the sniper rifle in both hands, like a character out of a Vietnam War movie.

I concentrated on listening, smelling—spotting anything out of the ordinary. A place in the shadows with the wrong colors or an odor that didn’t belong. So far, nothing. But I remembered the pine pitch Valenti had used to mask his scent. Any minute now, I’d hear the hiss of silver-tipped arrows flying.

We’d traveled maybe two miles from the lodge, but it had taken an hour, since we’d moved so carefully, soundlessly, and full of paranoia. I kept glancing at Tina, hoping for some sign that she knew where the site was, that she was leading us somewhere. And for part of the time she did look like she was searching, stopping and studying the landscape, as if trying to recognize a landmark. Mostly, though, she looked scared, her face tight, brow furrowed.

Even if we didn’t find the hunters’ shelter, that would be okay. If all we did was hike within cell phone range and call the cavalry, I’d be fine with that.

After another half hour of cautious walking, Tina put a hand on my arm.

“We’re looking for a tent,” she said. “Camouflaged, under a pair of trees. I think it’s near here. This looks familiar.”

We all looked outward, scanning the trees. I took in a long, slow breath—and smelled canvas.

I couldn’t see it until we were almost standing next to it. Just like Tina had said, it was a low tent slung between trees, a darker shadow standing out against a natural backdrop. We waited outside it a long time, like we expected it to come to life and swallow us. Lee aimed the rifle.