The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

firehouse before the blindness forced her into isolation. He’d tell them to switch off their emotions, to think and act now, and leave the worries and the panic for later.
    Good advice, Dad. But how do I get the rest of my body to comply? Her insides felt jittery and her palms left wet prints on her rifle.
    Sophia led Mitch to the east side. Both vehicles were parked in the driveway and lights shone from the first-floor windows. The kidnappers hadn’t left.
    Mitch’s relieved expression matched hers. He had enough light to navigate on his own. He pointed to the ground and mouthed the word “stay”. She saluted. He flashed her a grin, turned away, then paused.
    Something wrong?
    Her heart decided to go for a gold medal in the hundred-yard dash. I spent way too much time listening to the Olympics on the radio.
    Mitch moved to whisper in her ear. “Just in case I don’t get a chance later, thank you for saving my life.”
    “Make sure you hold on to it. I doubt the next time you’re in trouble that a blind assassin will ride to your rescue.”
    Another smile. She liked the way his eyes crinkled when he grinned.
    He cupped her chin and peered at her. “A supernatural beauty.” His gaze met hers.
    Her body turned to stone as all her nerve endings rushed to where his fingers touched her jaw. He leaned in and kissed her. Sensation flared on her lips and she returned the kiss.
    He pulled away. Sophia watched him for as long as he remained visible. Once he neared the house, she lost him in the light. She scanned the second-floor windows and thought she spotted movement, but couldn’t be certain.
    Glad the night air stayed calm, Sophia practised aiming at the tyres with her Winchester rifle. Scanning the black sky, she searched for signs of an approaching airplane. All quiet. After a few more minutes, she decided waiting sucked.
    When the grunts and sounds of a scuffle reached her, she changed her mind. Waiting was better. A thud followed a curse and she heard voices, but not Mitch’s.
    “Told you the ambush would work,” Ed said.
    “Bring him inside,” Rick said.
    A door slammed. They had expected him. How? Didn’t matter at this point. Mitch and the girls were in the brightly-lit house. Panic bubbled up her throat, but she gulped it down.
    Think now, freak out later.
    Option one: wait until they left the house to meet the plane at 4 a.m. She would play sniper, incapacitating them one by one. Won’t work. They would scatter at the sound of the first shot.
    Option two: hit the aeroplane when it landed. Unable to fly, they would be forced to drive out and, best-case scenario, run into Mitch’s team. No. They would kill Mitch. No reason for them to take him along.
    Option three: cut off the electricity and tip the playing field in her favour. Not the best plan, but she had a winner.
    Sophia moved with care, circling the house. She searched for the electric box. The light from the windows made it impossible to find. She would have to crawl around the outside walls and explore with her hands. Approaching the house from the back side seemed logical; she held out a hand and entered the whiteness. She tried to avoid the direct light.
    When her fingers touched the wood siding, she began the hunt. Two hands would be faster, but she wasn’t stupid enough to put her weapon down.
    On the west side of the house she heard loud voices through the window.
    “. . . your friend?” Rick asked.
    “Dropped me off and went home,” Mitch said.
    He was conscious and alive. Sophia let out a quiet breath as relief washed through her. The feeling didn’t last long.
    A high-pitched squeal of pain sliced the air. “Mitch!”
    His sister. Sophia wilted.
    “Let’s go over your story again,” Rick said. “We know your biker friend was near the house and heard us talking about you because Ed found a backpack and tyre tracks nearby. Biker then follows the Rover and rescues you in a blaze of glory. Here’s where your story gets . . . creative.” He chuckled without humour. “You claim the biker took you to a rustic cabin with no electricity or phones, helped you clean up, and then brought you back here. Is this correct?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Glenn,” Rick said.
    A heart-breaking scream erupted. Sophia rolled into a ball to keep from pounding on the window and surrendering.
    “You won’t hurt her,” Mitch said in a flat, deadly tone.
    “We already have,” Glenn said.
    “Surface bruises. You won’t damage the merchandise