A Kidnapping, Really?

The faint vibration of my phone cut through the stillness, and I snatched it off the nightstand before it could wake her. Wincing as the screen lit up, I read the name: Amelia. Of course, it was Amelia. Because why the hell not?

Her message was short, straight to the point:

"Meet me. Alone. Midnight. You'll know the spot."

A second message followed almost immediately:

"I'm ready to surrender."

I snorted, running a hand through my hair. Surrender? Yeah, right. The odds of Amelia surrendering were about as good as Victoria becoming celibate. Still, the fact that she'd reached out directly meant something had shifted. Curiosity gnawed at me, even as every instinct screamed that this was a trap. But traps could be turned on the hunter, and I loved a good game.