Five minutes later she stood in front of him, this time wearing a shirt that read "Dear Math, I'm Not Your Therapist. Solve Your Own Problems." A pair of tight, hip-hugging jeans encased her lower half. Old tennis shoes covered her feet. Her hair was now anchored in a high ponytail, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. She looked young and fresh--still so freaking gorgeous his chest hurt.
Jaw clenched, he forced himself to look away from her. "I put my stuff in one of your guest rooms." The one closest to her room, but whatever. Details weren't important right now. "Since I'm supposedly dead, I can't stay at my place. I need to stay here."
"That's fine." No change in her demeanor. "You ready to go?"
He nodded, taken aback by the ease of her acceptance. "We have to use one of your cars." He had a few vehicles the public hadn't seen, but for what they were about to do, they needed hers. No one would think it strange for Michael Black's daughter and her grungy friend to dig through the rubble of his home.
She offered no protest as Blue hustled her into the garage. "I know you're a sports car junkie, but I think we should go with the sedan," she said.
"Sure." The sedan had two major wins: it would blend in with all the other cars on the highway, and the windows were smoked glass. With Evie, he never knew what he would do or how he would react to something. Privacy was best.
She let him drive, but as he eased into the driveway she barked an insistent "Stop!"
He did, palming a weapon, and she hopped out. A little boy playing in the front yard of her neighbor's house spotted her and bounded over.
The sun was a bright little bastard, reaching out with fiery fingers to stroke over Evie, giving her pale skin the same pearlescent glow that had struck him dumb at their first meeting.
You're staring at her. Don't be that guy. Look away!
"Dr. Evie!"
"Hey, Drew," she said, giving him a hug. "Did you handle that wee problem we discussed?"
Blue returned his weapon to the sheath at his waist.
"I sure did. I waited for you earlier but Momma told me I had to come in and eat and then I cleaned my plate so fast she said her head was spinning and then I rushed back out 'cause I wanted to tell you I popped Bobby so good. I think I broke his nose. There was blood."
"Oh, that's wonderful. I'm so proud of you!"
Condoning schoolyard violence? Interesting. And kind of hot.
You think everything about her is hot.
Not everything. When that viper's tongue called him a whore, he wanted to cut it out.
Drew's gaze slid past her open door, catching on Blue, and widened.
Blue tensed. Had he just been made by a prepubescent?
"Are you gonna kill me?" the kid asked.
Kid definitely didn't know who he was. There would be fawning.
Wait. He looked that scary?
Grinning, Evie said, "Nah. You've got nothing to worry about, squirt. Mr. Brothario is a lover, not a fighter."
Blue glared at her.
Drew flipped him off before rushing inside his house, probably to hide.
"Aw, how sweet," Evie said, settling in her seat. "I think he was trying to warn you against unleashing your dreadful wrath on sweet, innocent me."
"If the poor kid thinks you're sweet, I have to fear his home life."
"Ha-ha. You are hilarious."
"Thank you."
Like Drew, she flipped him off.
Grinning, Blue programmed the car to head to Michael's, sat back, and tried to relax as the sensors did the driving for him. Problem was, Evie's honey-almond scent saturated this vehicle as well. His shaft--which hadn't shrunk since the counter incident--throbbed, and the hum of his power cranked up the volume, screaming for release.
Not here, not now.
But if he wasn't careful he would levitate the vehicle and everything around it.
He needed a distraction. "Encouraging jailhouse justice on the preschool playground, sugar muffin?"
She glared at him, and it lightened his mood. "Encouraging the end of a bully's reign of terror."
Ah. "I approve."
Smirking at him, she said, "You do realize you just set yourself up for a horrible insult, right?"
He leaned against the door and faced her. She didn't wilt under the intensity of his stare, and didn't look away. She met him head-on, completely unfazed. He had to admire her fortitude.
Had to? Hell, he already did. He'd never met a woman like her. All bark and bite.
"Let's call a truce," he said. The moment the words registered, he realized he liked them. He and Evie had never been on sociable terms, and he was curious to know what that would be like.
"I thought we already had." She rubbed at the goose bumps on her arms. Cold? "I mean, we haven't killed each other."
Good point. He tried again. As he turned down the air with a single swipe of his power, he said, "Let's be friends." He'd never had a female friend before, had never thought he'd want one; but this one had saved his life, and no matter how he felt about her, he kinda sorta owed her. "After all, you're the only person I can trust right now, and you're determined to work with me, so we're going to be spending a lot of time together."
Her color was high, just the way he liked it, and her dark eyes were luminous as they searched his features. Her lips were so soft, so red, and already parted; he experienced a sudden urge to lean into her, to breathe her in and taste her, and what the hell was he doing? Stop.
"We're not good for each other," she said.
"Because we let our own issues get in the way. We all have baggage, princess. Let's ditch ours and move forward."
"What would this friendship entail?" she asked.
"For starters, we need to always tell each other the truth."
"I already do that. Are you saying you don't?"
God save me. "Also, you'll need to guard my back rather than stab it."
She took no offense, surprising him. Then she nodded, surprising him even more. "I could give that last one a try, I suppose. I'm not making any promises, though," she rushed to add.
He rolled his eyes. "Just do your best."
A pause as she fiddled with the strap of her purse. "So, do you really think we're going to find anything at Michael's? I'm sure the agency has already sent people to search through the rubble."
"They aren't me," he said simply.
"And you're the best?"
"Indisputably."
Now she was the one to roll her eyes. "I seem to remember a certain agent telling me arrogance would get people killed."
The moment the words left her mouth, her amusement faded. Her expression fell and her shoulders hunched in. Great waves of regret and sadness rolled off her, slamming into him.
What the hell?
He thought back to their first meeting and how much he'd wanted her even then. How shaken he'd been by her attitude. How, when the smoke of his injured pride had cleared, he'd been impressed by her. She'd taken a three-man mission and simplified it down to the bones, all on her own.
"I was wrong," he admitted. "Your arrogance was deserved."
"No. No, it wasn't."
Something about her tone . . .
He frowned. He couldn't think of a single mission she'd botched. "Why did you leave the agency?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Evie--"
"I mean it, Blue. Leave this alone."
He wanted to push. Her regret and sadness were intensifying. But she was the type to push back, and as he'd proven, he didn't always come out ahead with her.
Challenges more than sucked.
"Suspicious behavior detected," a computerized voice suddenly announced.
He was amazed only for a moment. "Your security system?" he asked.
"Yes." Evie twisted to peer out the back window. "Modified to record and decipher the habits of nearby drivers."
Extraordinary. And seriously hot.
On alert, he scanned the mirrors and found the culprit. Three c
ars back was a dark sedan with windows as smoky as theirs. Evie punched a few buttons and a small screen appeared on the console in front of Blue.
"We're definitely being followed," she said.
With another punch of the buttons, the camera that was anchored to the back of the car honed in on the sedan. An image appeared on the console screen.
"Can you give me the make and model of the car?" he asked.
Evie was not the one to answer. The computerized voice gave him the details he wanted, adding, "The vehicle has been modified to allow for manual steering. There are automatic assault rifles anchored to both the left and right side."
Gotta get me one of these. "Can you see past the window tint and tell me how many bodies are inside?"
"Checking . . ." the computer replied. Several tense seconds ticked past. "Body heat indicators suggest four adult males."
He liked those odds.
Eight
"WE COULD BE DEALING with the men who bombed my father's house," Evie said. "Maybe they're here to end you for good."
"Maybe," Blue replied, "but I'm presumed dead, and this isn't my car. You are a more likely target."
She shook her head, so close to him the end of her ponytail brushed his arm. "Your body was never found. You're not presumed dead."
"No one saw me go into my house. No one saw me go into yours, either."
"No one that we know about."
She had an answer for everything.
"I'm sure, Evie," he said, his tone flat. "I would have sensed if I was being followed. I'm never not aware."
"I'll ignore the double negative and agree with you." She released a heavy breath. "So say I am the target. What's the motive? Why now?"
Why indeed. "Because the AIR agent came to visit you and you're now a liability? Because Michael is missing and the bad guy wants to use you as bait? Should I go on?"
"No," she grumbled. "Those two did the trick."
Well, what do you know? He'd won another argument. And this time victory was oh, so sweet. "Are the occupants human?" he asked the computer. "Or otherworlder?"
"Unsure."
Too bad. "Any New Chicago PD posted along the road?"
"Checking . . . Yes. The nearest patrol unit is ten miles north."
He knew the area to avoid, then.
"How do I put the shields up?" he asked Evie. "Assuming you have shields."
"Like I would ever own a vehicle without shields. And the method is kind of complicated, so pay close attention." She cleared her throat, then said, "Engage shields. Now."
Clear armor came out of hiding, wrapping around the car to protect it from enemy fire.
He shook his head in exasperation--and, okay, a little amusement. "Program the operating system to accept my voice commands."
All she said was "Accept Blue. All access."
"Engage manual steering panel. Now," he said. The moment he had the wheel in hand, he switched lanes, careful to maintain the same speed--for the moment.
The sedan remained where it was, playing innocent.
With only a thought, Blue could force the cars around him to swerve into the vehicle's path, but that would put innocents in danger, maybe even cause a few deaths. He had some scruples.
"Are you okay with me putting a few dings and scratches in your car?" he asked Evie.
"Strip her to the studs. I don't care. Just nail those bloody bastards to the wall. I'd like a chat-up."
Perfect answer, and sexy as hell, her excitement making her accent thicker.
He wanted to kiss her.
You can't ever kiss her.
"You mean a conversation?" When dealing with Honey Badger, it was best to be clear.
"That's what I said."
Well, all right, then. "Here goes." He yanked the car to the right and slammed his foot on the gas, shooting off the highway. The sedan gave up all pretense of innocence and followed. Tires squealed as the sensors on the cars around them engaged, automated systems performing deep swerves to avoid a collision.
Evie dug through her purse, withdrawing the modified pyre-gun she'd brandished earlier. "Get me the angle I need and I'll disable the car," she said, dialing the internal crystal to its highest setting.
I think I'm turned on--again.
"I want to get to a less populated area first." An intersection loomed ahead, the light red. There were three lanes. Two were clogged with traffic. One was open, but for right turns only.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
"Shots fired," the computer stated calmly.
"Blimey," Evie cursed. "Obviously our shadow doesn't care about hurting others."
"They'll get theirs." Blue increased his speed, staying in the turn lane, even though he wasn't going to turn. He flew through the intersection, jerking the wheel this way, then that way, stopping oncoming traffic and directing the cars out of harm's way. "You have my word."
Rather than keeping to the side roads, Blue zipped back onto the highway.
"They're about to fire again," Evie said.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
"Shields can only withstand two more rounds before failing," the computer announced.
Great. Blue revved the turbo-booster and shot into warp speed, weaving through traffic, searching for the perfect place to--
There.
A bridge. Very little traffic in front, only the tail in back.
"Incoming," Evie warned.
"Almost there."
Pop! Pop! Pop!
"Get ready, moon tart," he said, pressing a button to lower the passenger window. Violent wind blustered inside the car. "Don't try to get the men, just try to blow their tires."
"Duh. This isn't my first rodeo, cowboy."
He really hoped she was a good shot.
"You'll have less than a second to--" the computer began.
"I know!" Evie growled. "Shut up."
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The moment Blue crossed the bottom edge of the bridge, he threw the car into a spin. Suddenly, Evie was facing the other vehicle. She found her target and squeezed off a single shot. A bright yellow laser blasted out, slamming into the vehicle's front left tire at the same time another bullet hit her door.
The shield had been damaged beyond repair, and the bullet shot through the metal to embed in the console directly in front of her.
So close to hitting her, Blue thought, trembling with sudden rage.
"Nailed it!" she said, happy.
He straightened out the car and slowed, watching in the rearview mirror as rubber melted and the sedan began a tailspin of its own before flipping over and rolling, the roof crashing into the road, then the tires slamming into the road, then the roof, then the tires, until finally stopping on its belly.
Smoke wafted through the air as he came to a halt. Clasping his gun, he jumped out and raced toward the crash site. He was halfway there when a brutal gush of molten wind shoved him backward, lifting him as if he weighed no more than a feather. A piercing boom scraped at his ears, making them ring. He landed with a hard thunk, a door handle dropping from the sky and clanking beside him.
Been here, done this shit already.
As he stood, he watched flames engulf what was left of the vehicle.
That had been an intentional blast. Most likely, whoever sent these men to nab--kill?--Evie hadn't wanted anyone caught and questioned. Planting a self-destruct bomb would have been easy.
Blue's rage exploded with the same viciousness, and he struggled to rein it in as he marched to Evie's car.
She stood in the passenger doorway, her hand braced against the open window. Her hair had come loose from the ponytail and framed her soot-streaked face in tangled waves.
"Well, that sucks," she said.
No smart remarks. No recrimination directed at him.
He stopped. Just stopped and tried to catch his breath. She was beautiful and here and alive, unharmed, the knowledge battering at the desire he tried so valiantly to deny. He wanted her. More than that, he needed her. Ins
ide, his Arcadian power tugged at a flimsy leash. He'd been too worked up lately. Too agitated, too hungry, too angry, with zero release.
Each one magnified his rage.
"I am so pissed off right now," he snarled.
"Uh, I can tell," she said, not sounding worried. "Your eyes are glowing."
Glowing past the contacts? That was bad. Very, very bad. Soon a surge of pure energy would leave his body, frying everything around him. Unless . . . No. No, he wouldn't. "You need to leave, Evie. Get in the car and drive away. I'll meet you at the ruins."
"As if!" The foolish girl approached him. "What's going on with you?"
"Evie!"
"If we're friends, you'll tell me," she insisted. "Maybe I can help."
Low blow, using the friendship he'd insisted on. "I have more Arcadian abilities than anyone knows. I'm more powerful than anyone knows." He'd never told anyone the full scope of his badassery, not even Michael. Humans feared what they didn't understand, and he didn't want his friends to fear him. "Sometimes that power builds up and requires an outlet."
She thought for a moment. "Kind of like the world's worst temper tantrum with deadly results?"
He nearly choked on his tongue. She wasn't afraid of him, and clearly she never would be. "Yes."
"What kind of outlet?" she asked.
"A physical fight." He paused, watching her expression for the minutest change. "Sex."
No horror. Only interest.
The interest nearly slayed him.
"In that case . . ." she said. She punched him once, twice, three times. "Better?"
Each of the blows knocked his head to the side. Blood trickled into his mouth, and sharp stings registered.
Amusement doused the hottest threads of the rage--but not his sexual hunger. He spit out the blood, his desire for her even worse. "Amendment. I have to do the beating."
"Oh. Well, my bad. I'm going to decline on that one."
"That one will never be offered to you."
"But the other . . ."
Yeah. The other. Sex. He noticed she didn't move away from him but stayed right where she was. Her gaze locked on his lips, and she began to pant.
Thinking of kissing him?
Maybe. Her adrenaline must have skyrocketed. He knew his had.
He stepped closer, unable to resist.
She did the same.
And then he was on her, wrapping his arms around her and jerking her into the hard line of his body. His tongue thrust into her mouth, demanding a response. She gave it, kissing him back with a passion he'd never before encountered, as if she had been starving all her life and he was her first meal.