“Back door, angel,” he said, and they went, duck-walking just in case anyone out there still had a gun and the presence of mind to use it.She gasped with each footstep, dragging herself along.The fire alarm was for real now, and sirens had begun outside.
He hit the door with his left palm, checked, and pushed her through.There, above the stacked cases of liquor and other odds and ends, was another Exit sign—a fire door, the delivery bay was off to the left.Since the alarms were already going, it wouldn’t matter, would it?
Acrid smoke billowed behind them.It was burning merrily in the bar now, liquor, tables, chairs and melting carpet.A wave of heat groaned through the entire bar.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” Rowan said in a high, thin, breathless voice.She slumped against him, still clutching at her leg.
His chest was on fire, his nerves twisting with the need for Zed.Get her out and away from them.Get her outnow.
“Wait until we’re in the alley,” Delgado heard himself reply.“Goddammit, woman, I told you to run.”
“Wasn’t leaving without you.”Always so stubborn.“Where have you been?”
“In hell, angel.”He kicked the fire door open, waited a beat, and spun out, covering the likely angles.Nobody there—the Sig team guarding the alley was pulled in to help deal with the mess inside.His own psychic talent worked overtime to tell him so, spurred by Zed withdrawal and adrenaline, but it was nice to have confirmation.“In hell.It’s nice to be back.”
Now, let’s find a car.
Heat shimmered above pavement.Rowan clamped her hand over the still-bleeding wound on her left thigh.Merciless sunlight beat down.Delgado had wiped the drying blood off his face, and his hair was dark enough a casual glance any crust wouldn’t show.He wasn’t upset over his own tiny cut, caused by a shard of flying glass happily missing his eyes.
His stomach turned over.Later,he promised himself.Feel bad later.Right now, get her somewhere safe.
Christ, I’m saving up a hell of a lot to think about later.Then he reminded himself not to think about that.
Until later.
“It’s up here on the left,” she whispered in the same colorless, tiny tone.Her eyes were closed, and she had stopped stealing little glances at him.Her hair stuck to her forehead, dark with sweat.“Poor Cath.I hope she’s okay.”
I don’t care.He didn’t give a good goddamn what happened toanyoneso long as Rowan was all right.The whole fucking world could go to hell in a handbasket.He had nothing further to lose now; nothing except her.
I’m just as dangerous to the Society as I am to Sigma right now.He saw the sign for the Motel Doze-Inn.“There it is,” he said.“Room 25?”
“That’s it.”She’d already handed over the key.A rendezvous with Cath, then getting all three of them out of here, was just what the doctor ordered.And once he had a few moments he was going to tell Rowan just how good it felt to be near her again.“I’m bleeding all over the seat,” she added.“I’m sorry.”
Jesus Christ, you could have died back there.What the hell are you apologizing for?He clamped down on himself.Hysteria was not useful.What he needed was a good stiff drink and a chance to bandage her up.“No worries, angel.Unless we need get you to a doctor.”
“No.No.”She now sounded panicked, and he cursed himself.“It’ll be fine.Look, it’s stopped bleeding.I just have to wait for it to heal while it hurts.”
He pulled into the parking lot, checking the rearview yet again.Still no sign of pursuit.“We look clean.”
“Is the car…” She gulped down air, and he caught a flash of pain.Oddly enough, that touched a spark of fury deep in his gut, rage rising in a sheet of red flame.Hurt her.They hadhurther.“Oh, God.Is the car here?”
“Blue Subaru, Georgia plates, just the thing for evading Sigs?Yes, it’s right there.You’ve got the keys?”
“I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t…” Her head lolled against the seat.Delicate traceries of sweat made her look even more pale and delicious.He had to restrain the urge to lean across, kiss her cheek.
Goddammit, Rowan.I almost fucking lost you in that bloody mess.Why didn’t you run?
“No need to worry, angel.”He saw a familiar figure leaning against the Subaru, shading her eyes with one hand.Cath had ditched the blue mohawk for a short black gamine, which suited her much better.She’d even taken most of the metal off her face for the Vegas run, and her Catholic-schoolgirl prettiness shone out.
She was going to be dangerous in a couple of years.Zeke would have his hands full keeping her out of trouble.
Not my problem.It was a relief to find something thatwasn’t, at the moment.“There’s Cath right there.You just rest.She and I will take care of everything else.”
True to form, when he pulled up Cath didn’t waste words.She peered through Rowan’s rolled down window—it was like standing in front of an open oven—and examined him for a long moment.“About damn time,” she said crisply.“Holy hell, Ro, what happened to you?”
“I got shot again,” Rowan whispered, then unceremoniously passed out, head spilling back and lips parted.He tried not to think about that, tried not to feel the flare of frustrated heat.
Cath cracked her chewing-gum.“All right, Del.How we gonna do this?”
