She edged onto an elbow, peered beyond the window shades, and winced against a clear, cold late-morning light. East out of San Antonio would have taken them into the piney woods, and west would have taken them into the desert, but what she saw here was oak and ash, mountain cedar and low, rolling winter grassland, which meant north. But the only thing that really told her was that target had timed the lure and attack to suit a particular travel schedule, and that just made her head hurt worse.

She dropped back to the pillow, body aching, memories clashing, holding on to the insane hope that her team was alive, and fighting despondency and despair, because even if this ended well for them, there was no way it ended well for her.

Headquarters would be looking for someone to blame.

It wouldn’t mean shit that she’d warned Hayes about the trap. She had been there in Prague and was now unaccounted for at the hit site, which made her the only common denominator, and Liv Wilson was still running the show.

Kara rolled toward the wall and shut her eyes.

Behind her, the door slid open, and a soft floral fragrance wafted in.

She’d feign sleep if it would do any good, but anyone smart enough to engage the twists these guys had knew how to time sedatives, and trying to pretend otherwise would just make her look like she was dumb enough to think they were dumb, and she had a hard enough time convincing people she wasn’t an idiot without inflicting that label on herself.

The door slid shut.

Kara rolled onto her back.

The blonde stood at her feet, tray in hand, face bare and sun kissed, hair tied back in a messy ponytail bun, wearing jeans, sweatshirt, and Converse shoes, like some peppy freshman straight off the varsity cheer squad, still used to being fawned over and adored, because life hadn’t slapped a KICK ME sign on her back yet.

She offered a hint of smile, as if to say hello.

Kara groaned on the inside and fought the urge to roll right back over.

After all she’d done to escape the popular girls, she’d been outwitted and grabbed by one. She’d officially reached the lowest circle of hell.

The blonde placed the tray on the table. “I’m always thirsty after sedation,” she said. “Thought you might be, too. Wasn’t sure if you’d feel like eating, but brought a few things in case. You have any allergies? Nuts? Dairy? Eggs?”

In her head Kara said, Highly allergic to bullshit, but that would earn no favors, so she said nothing and let silence do the speaking.

The blonde picked up a bottle, broke the seal, held it forward.