Corbin had been going in and out of consciousness for several hours.

His mind was a haze of dust and his mouth was as dry as ash. One thing was for sure, the sky was a lot darker than when he agreed to go with the authorities and Everleigh wasn't with him. He sat in a chair with his hands and legs bound, the moonlight filtering through skylights, casting shadows across what looked like a warehouse. The sound of a match striking, caused him to twitch his head toward it.

From the darkness, a woman with a light umber skin tone stepped forward. She blew out puffs of smoke as she approached and then bent slightly to be eye level with him. Her breath was a mixture of old coffee and cigarettes, an acrid scent forcing him to reel back.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked.

"No," he croaked. "Was I drugged?"

"It's a little cocktail we use so our prisoners aren't aware of the travel route."

The mysterious woman snapped her fingers and then there was the quick shuffle of feet approaching with a chair for her to sit. She hiked a leg over and sat on it backward, with her wrists on the rim of the backrest, her hands dangling. Smoke curled upward from her fingers and she did a gentle flick, causing the ash to float to the floor.

"I'm Zia." She brushed her long curly tresses over one shoulder and the motion revealed a small tattoo by her ear of a snake eating its tail. "I'm in charge of the Water Division and I've learned you are a water witcher. They tell me you can feel it, is that true?"

"Yes."

"Show me..." She paused and motioned to somewhere beyond the darkness. "There's supposed to be an old well on this property that was covered up. I know where it is, but I want you to find it. Then I'll know if you're lying to save your little girlfriend or if you're telling the truth."

"If I was fibbing just to save her, that would make me an idiot. You think I don't know what you would do to me if I was lying?"

She blinked slowly, agitation creeping across her face as her lips tightened into a flat line. Then, she let out a breath. "You're not the first person to claim they can witch water. We've only had one who was able to prove herself, but even then, her attempts came up lacking."

"And what became of her?"

"She didn't get to go home and paid for her lies."

"By any chance was her name, Clara?"

"Yes." Zia narrowed her eyes. "You knew her?"

"Long ago."

A knot formed in Corbin's throat, and he tried swallowing it as memories of his old friend's smile flooded his thoughts. Clara, who was married to Gunner and Coyote's sister, was a water witcher like him, but her skills were not as sharp. While Corbin was away in Mexico, he learned Clara had volunteered to assist in the Water Division with an irrigation project but was killed. He just didn't know by who.

Now, it was clear Zia was involved, which meant she was likely to harm Everleigh killed too. Glancing around at the barren ground and darkness, there wasn't anything he could use as a weapon, let alone set himself free. So, he would have to improvise once outside.

"Where's Everleigh?"

"Nowhere near here, but she's in good hands for now," Zia replied as she toyed with a few curls draped over her shoulder.

"I want to see her."

Zia scoffed and got up from the chair. "You don't get to make demands but if you prove yourself to me, then maybe it can be arranged."

She snapped her finger again and from the darkness, two men stepped out. They cut his binds and hauled him up from the chair, but held him in place. Another man handed Zia a small metal case the size of a lunch box and she carefully opened it while her lips hugged the cigarette.

"This it?" The cigarette bobbed.

"Yes ma'am. Specifically crafted per your order."

"Good. Not what I was expecting but good." She removed the item from the box and motioned to her men. "Hold out his arms."

They did as they were told and Corbin's heartbeat quickened as Zia strapped two cuff-like mechanisms to his wrists. They were bulky and cold and made three short beeps once they were fastened, with a tiny green dot that flashed twice. Then she held up a small remote which fit in her palm.

"If you try anything sneaky like fight back or run away, then I'll press the red button, understood? Your wrists will go kaboom and your hands will no longer be of use to you. Got it?"

"Yes." Corbin nodded.

"Good. Let's get started. Shall we?"

∆∆∆

When Everleigh awoke, it was to the sting of a firm hand slapping her cheeks.

She jerked away, which only caused her eyes to flutter as she fought to focus on the blurry figure before her. The person snapped their fingers in front of her face, but when that didn't work, something with a potent odor was waved under her nose. That's when the haze cleared, revealing a bronze-skinned man.

"Smelling salts."

"What?"

"It's what I waved under your nose. Works every time," his deep, rough voice chuckled.

"Who are you?" Everleigh looked him over from head to toe.

The man's eyes were practically black and didn't blink once as he studied her. Then, he straightened and forced her to her crane her head back to look at him. Not only was he muscular, but it appeared his muscles even had muscles, and he could probably crush her with his hands if she tried anything stupid.

"Who are you?" she repeated.

"That's enough about me..."

Turning, he sauntered over to a desk and sat on the edge where he lifted a folder. As he browsed through it, he cocked a brow, and he licked a finger to turn the page with amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.

"When they showed me the surveillance video of you taking out those men in the bunker, I thought, wow, how did they let this happen?" He stood up with the folder still in hand and began pacing. "What are you, a hundred pounds soaking wet? You're a string-bean. Doubt there's any muscle there so how on earth was a noodle-like you, capable of taking out my men?"

"I guess they were just weak little pus-"

"Watch it!" he snapped, then let out an airy laugh with an exaggerated head shake. "Thankfully, we have this nifty little computer program where we put your picture in the database, scan it, and then it does a search for anyone with your facial features. It took several days to finally produce something worthwhile since there are many little white girls with features like yours."

"I'm not white."

"No?" He walked forward and placed his bronze hand against her lightly tanned face. "Could have fooled me."

"I'm Latin America." She grit her teeth.

"Ah, yes, right. I knew that. Want to know how I know?"

"How?"

"Because the strangest things happened when we searched for you in our database. See, we got a hit. Two in fact."

Opening the folder in his hands, he held it out to her, and what stared back at her was a photo of her father and Armis.

"What..." She reached out, grazing the photos, but the man yanked it away and continued pacing.

"Looks like your brother inherited your father's dark skin. And his looks." He smirked. "I'm teasing. They're both just as ugly as you."

"What is the point of this!?"

"Ah, there's that spicy Latin blood." He snapped his fingers. "Maybe later I'll force you to salsa dance for me."

"What is the point of this!?" she repeated through clenched teeth.

"Fine..." he sighed. "I suppose I can get to the point. Your father used to be a Navy Seal. Is that right? And I bet he taught you everything he knows? So you might be a string bean but you can handle yourself. And what I found particularly interesting is that your father wasn't just any Navy Seal. Says here he worked on several secret missions overseas where he infiltrated terrorist groups. It says he was one of their best. Do you know what his nickname was?"

Everleigh raised her chin. "No. My father never talked about his time with the Seals."

"Well, I know his secret little name. In fact, practically every person who's ever served in a military-type role knows who your father is. The Predator. Do you know why he was called that?"

"Enlighten me." Everleigh blinked slowly, her jaw clenched.

"Because he was just like that creature in the movie, you know, the one with Arnold Schwarzenegger?"

"No. I don't know. My father has always said movies rot one's intelligence. He had me read books instead."

"Is that so? Well, to make my point, in the movie there was a creature who could stalk its prey by being invisible. No one ever saw him coming." He stopped pacing and faced her. "Tell me, do I need to be worried about your father looking for you?"

Everleigh swallowed as she contemplated lying. Perhaps it could buy her some time to figure out how to escape? Or maybe he would free her to spare himself from her father's wrath? By the time he discovered the truth about her father's death, she would be long gone.

So, with a single nod, she said, yes, and the man crouched in front of her, his eyes narrowing.

"You better not be lying to me. If you are, you won't like what I do to you."

"And you won't like what my father will do to you!"

"Touché." He straightened and made his way to the door, but before closing it behind him he said, "Don't try anything stupid. Those cuffs on your wrist are programmed to this remote." He wiggled it in his hand. "I'll have someone assigned to you twenty-four-seven. So if I get word of you trying anything, your little wrists will explode. So you just sit tight until we move you again."

"Where's my brother? I want to see him."

"That's not up for discussion right now."

"So you will let me?"

Without a response, he closed the door behind him, followed by several bolts locking. Everleigh still had no idea where she was, so she got up to check the windows but they were shut with iron bars. Then, she glanced down at the cuffs on her wrists. Were they real? Would they actually explode if she tried to escape?

Whenever Armis was, she hoped he didn't have the same cuffs on his wrists. Not only did he inherit their father's appearance, but also his stubbornness. He'd risk blowing his hands to smithereens and use the nubs of his arms to fight his way to find her. She didn't want that for him and her eyes watered thinking about it, but she quickly wiped away the tears.

It wasn't the time for wallowing. It was time to sit and think of how to survive, so she slumped onto the hard sofa again. Her lips trembled as a cry threatened to escape, so she blew out a long breath and reminded herself that she was the daughter of a great man. One who taught her everything about staying alive.

And he taught her well.

∆∆∆

When they walked Corbin out to the field he could already feel the faint tug in his hands and feet. They gave him dowsing rods, so to amuse them, he walked around with the metal sticks extended in front of him like a compass pointing North. One of the men poked at him with the butt of his rifle while another taunted.

Meanwhile, Zia watched from an open window in the warehouse. He could see the smoke rings drifting into the frigid navy blue night, and evaporate.

It was that very sight which bought him some time to really feel the water calling to him. He closed his eyes as he shuffled forward, the butt of the rifle nudging his back with every step. But despite the guards being a nuisance, his fingers and toes pulsed with the familiar sensation indicating water was close.

When he opened his eyes again, he knew the water-well had to be under the rusting truck sitting randomly in the field.

"There," he announced. "It's under the truck."

"You sure?" Zia's voice floated through the air, in a sing-song.

Corbin stopped in his tracks realizing they could be sabotaging him with water jugs planted inside the rotting truck just to confuse him. So, he closed his eyes and filled his lungs with slow, gentle breaths.

That's when he felt something pulling him toward the left.

When he looked down at the dowsing rods he saw them pointing left as well. The further he walked, the stronger the sensation pulsed in his fingers and toes. Then, he dropped to his knees and began digging.

"That's enough!" he heard Zia's voice call out. "I'm coming down."

As the time ticked, the guards pressed their rifle barrels against the back of his head, followed by their snickering. He couldn't help but think of why anyone worth their salt would allow two imbeciles to hold loaded weapons?

Ignoring them, he closed his eyes, trying to picture Everleigh's face. He thought of her coy smile which she often hid behind her narrow fingers, and the hazelnut hue of her irises, blinking at him just before a kiss. But as much as be tried to keep those thoughts in the forefront, other memories crept in. Like her tiny body flopped over the shoulder of that man as he carried her out of the woods. And the way her slender arms dangled and the blood dripping from her nose onto the man's shirt.

Just then, Corbin's eyes popped open, realizing something.

One way or another, these people needed him to witch water and while they thought they held the power, in reality, he did.

As he listened to the soft fall of Zia's boots against the weeds in the field, he knew his demands to unite with Everleigh would be met. He would force their hand if need be. Then, the moonlight shimmered off something by his knee, catching his attention.

Half buried in the dirt was a shard of glass, so he carefully swept the fragment of the broken bottle into his palm, securing it. What he was about to do next wasn't pretty, but it was necessary.

"On your feet." Zia circled in front of him.

Except, Corbin glared at her as he remained on his knees and pressed the broken glass up to his throat. For a moment Zia was confused as she took in the makeshift weapon. Her mouth opened to say something but then she paused. With her face turned slightly and her brows knotted together, she gave him a sideways stare and chose her words carefully.

"Corbin, please put that down. You've done what I asked. You found the well. I won't harm you."

"I'll do it!" He applied pressure to his neck, feeling a faint sting from the sharp edge of the glass.

"Or what?" She threw her head back with a scoff. "All I have to do is press the button on this trigger and you're done for! Or have you forgotten?"

"You sure you want to do that?" He slid the glass along his flesh, causing a shallow cut to appear as a flicker of panic broke Zia's hardened composure. "No, you won't. You need me. I'm the best water witcher you've come across in years. If you blow up my hands this close to my throat, then you'll be slitting it for me. So I can end this right now, either way."

"What do you want us to do, boss?" he heard one of the men say behind him, with the familiar sound of a rifle being readied to shoot.

"No, don't you dare you, imbecile!" Zia threw her hands up. "We need him alive."

"I want to see Everleigh," Corbin demanded. "And she will need to be at my side at all times, unharmed. Or I'll dig this into my neck, right here, right now!"

"I'll need to make a call first..." Zia's nostrils flared as she practically foamed at the mouth. "You may have won this time Witcher, but it will be your only victory."

Huffing, she stomped away and the men lifted Corbin to his feet. They couldn't see his expression as he smiled in triumph. Except, Zia was right, he won this time, which meant he need to think hard about how to win again.

And he would win.

Again and again.

Because Everleigh's life depended on it.