“He’s moving toward the east corner of the Albrecht-Durer-Haus in about thirty seconds,” she said. “If anybody is near, green light granted on taking him down.” Or she would do it. She ran, watching the tracking device. He was soclose. Finally.
Her quarry turned suddenly around a booth and cut through another alley. She dropped into a full run, going as fast as she could, avoiding tourists and wine on her way. Her heart rate sped up. He turned down a blind corner where the town had just erected several new Christmas market tents that weren’t normally there. They completely blocked the way.
She had him now.
The crowd pressed around her, and she searched frantically for a glimpse of him before glancing down at her phone. Somehow he’d managed to get around one of the booths. She followed, smiled at a man who tried to sell her a pretzel, and ducked behind the booth and downanother alley.
The snowy cobblestones fought her boots and kept her slightly off-balance, and soon the sound of the crowd disappeared. She hissed an updated location for her team. Her prey swiftly took another corner, fast. A quick look at the map on her phone confirmed she could intercept him. She veered the other direction and then saw him slip behind a brick building where there was no escape. They were alone in the alley. She slid to a halt on the rough, snow-covered cobblestones.
“Stop,” she yelled, pulling out her weapon and instantly firing green lasers—the ones that harmed immortals—into the brick building next to him. He paused, his back to her. She moved cautiously toward him, speaking to her team. “I’ve got him.Get here fast.”
He was bigger than she expected for somebody who moved so quickly and gracefully. He still faced away from her, at least six and a half feet tall, with solid muscle and a broad back—short for a Kurjan but unusually broad for one as well. He’d dressed in black cargo pants and a dark sweatshirt and wasn’t even breathing heavilyafter his run.
A hat covered his head. Yet there was something about him. “Turn around,” she ordered, her voice trembling just a little. She couldn’t believe she’d caught him.
Slowly, he put his hands down at his sides.
“I will shoot you,” she said, meaning every word.
Slowly he turned around, and she took a step back. Her vision filled with silvery-blue eyes, black hair, and a roughlychiseled face.
Her breath stopped. The entire world tilted. “Paxton?”
“Hi, Hope.” He looked behind her, his gaze scouting the area.
She set her stance as memories assailed her. Pax playing with a stuffed dragon when they were toddlers. Him defending her to a bully. His lips lowering to hers for her first soft kiss. Years later, that same mouth taking hers after a motorcycle ride—not so softly. She still wore the silver ring he’d given her as a child and the pink quartz necklace he’d bought for her as a teenager. For luck.
He edged toward the side. Paxton was supposed to be a scientist working with his uncle. But what exactly had he been doing? Her best friendwas a traitor.
The betrayal wasn’t sharp; it didn’t cut like a knife. It was the full swing of a baseball bat, right to the center of her heart, smashing the silly organ into useless bits. “It’s you.”
His body bunched toattack. “Yeah.”
Without hesitating, she fired three times, hitting center mass.
Chapter Four
He couldn’t believe she’d fucking shot him. Paxton Phoenix sat on his ass on the frozen cobblestones, his back to a brick building as fury slid through his veins. Oh, she hadn’t damaged his heart, and she could have. He’d practiced shooting with her enough to know that she could have easily put him in the hospital for a month.
Instead, blood poured out of his left shoulder, the right side of his rib cage, and his gut. Then she’d nailed him in the left thigh, forcing him to go down. He met her furious glare squarely. He’d always known that someday it would come down to this. Oh, he hadn’t expected to get shot, but he’d been certain that sooner or later he’d see this stark betrayal in her indigo-blue eyes.
To her credit, she kept her stance wide and the weapon pointed at him, right between his eyes this time, but she was pale and she was shaking. Her nose was turning red.
He couldn’t help himself. “Hope, you need a heavier jacket.”
Both of her eyebrows rose, and her chin dropped. “Are you kidding me?” she snapped, her full five-foot-two frame vibrating. She was small and compact—definitely feminine. “You’re a traitor, and you’re worried about my jacket?”
Amusement bubbled up even as pain throbbed throughout his body. He sent healing cells to the injuries and calculated how quickly he could get past her without hurting her. “Yeah, you still fall ill sometimes. You need a jacket,” he retorted, gratified when color flushed into her face. At least she wasn’t so pale now. For a moment, he’d been concernedshe’d pass out.
“You’re supposed to be a scientist,” she spat.
Not really. Not even close, actually. He didn’t like her pointing the gun at him, but he didn’t want to scare her. Being on the ground, bleeding like this, threw him back into his violent childhood for a second. The world tunneled in, and heexhaled slowly.
“Pax?” she asked.
“I’m good.”
She tapped her ear communicator with her free hand, pushing back her thick auburn hair and revealing the blue, winding, prophecy mark that rose up her neck on both sides. “Liam and Collin, I need your assistance. Libby and Derrick, tear down the temporary computer headquarters—I don’t want the computers left exposed—and lock up. We may need the location again in the future. Meet at the rendezvous point at the corner of Lacenster in fifteen minutes.” Fury now lit her eyes.
