Anger and concern about ripped him apart as Miklos paced the room, scanning it for clues, willing her to come walking back in, knowing he waited for that in vain. She wouldn’t have left without her gloves and at least a parka if she’d left on her own, willingly. She was out there, the captive of conscienceless bastards somewhere in the cold, barely dressed, when what she needed was warmth and rest. And him. She needed him by her side, damn it all. He cursed himself for leaving her. He’d thought he would be back before the doctor left. But the suspicious man in front of the inn had been gone by the time Miklos made his way down to the street, so he had to do a quick sweep of the village to find the guy. He did, a few streets down. By then the man had two other thugs with him. He followed them, then spent precious hours staking out the derelict cabin at the edge of town where they led him. Men coming and going was all he’d seen, watching and waiting all night, gaining little information beyond the obvious: the enemy was numerous and well armed with military-issue weapons.
