Page 25 of Damien’s Mate

“Then what will I do if Rostov shows up in the parking lot?”

“Use the one in your ankle holster. Duh.”

Huh. She was good—he didn’t realize she’d pegged the backup piece. But he still wasn’t leaving her with his weapon. “I actually meant, please don’t die or anything while I throw out the trash. Okay?”

She settled back on the pillow. “Damn. A girl gets hit by one little car, and some people never let her forget it.”

He shook his head and took the trash out. She was fascinating, maddening, smartass—vulnerable one minute and ready to rip your limbs off the next.

All the qualities he loved in a woman. If only most of them weren’t so annoying.

The dumpsters were around the side of the building, down the end. He didn’t like that, having to go out of sight of the doorway, but it was only for a minute.

Long enough to dump the bags and check his phone without Lila watching.

There was a text message from Vinnie. I hear Salzano lost a valuable package.

The ledger. Rumors were already out on the street.

He texted back: I didn’t have nothin to do with that. The package I’m with was Rostov’s.

Vinnie texted back: Anton Rostov? Are you high? You gotta be high.

Probably, he answered. But he won’t find us.

Hopefully. If anyone was going to find him, it would be Salzano. He hoped the fact that he’d warned them about the bomb was enough to make Salzano believe Damien hadn’t betrayed him by taking the ledger.

He went back down the row and turned the corner, hand on the weapon in the back of his pants. Just in case.

The front door to James’s SUV was open, and somebody’s butt was sticking out. Feet on the ground, torso across the driver’s seat. Dressed in too-big scrubs.

Oh, God. Lila?

He ran down the row of cars and skidded to a stop. It was her, all right, halfway into the car. No bullet holes, no blood, no one else around.

“Lila? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was muffled, but perfectly calm. Shit. Had she walked out here on her own?

“What the fuck are you doing?” His heart rate was beginning to settle, and now he was getting pissed. All the trouble he’d gone to, saving her life, and the first thing she did was try to kill herself all over again?

“I’m stealing your car.” She managed to push herself upright, leaning against the doorframe of the SUV. Her face was chalk-white.

“Stealing my—” Seriously? He stood back, arms crossed. “Might I ask why?”

She held up her arm, the bracelet glinting in the lights of the parking lot. “I need to get this back to my safe house,” she said. “Collect the other artifacts. Take them back where they belong.”

It was four o’clock in the fucking morning. And she couldn’t even stand up. “Now?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, now.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“No, you can’t go back to your safe house. No, you can’t steal James’s SUV. You’re not well enough to drive. Hell and damnation, you can’t even climb into the damn thing.”

“Well then, can you give me a leg up?”