Keep trying. “Do you really want my murder linked to your name?”

“No, but it will be a small price to pay to be rid of you.”

Gah! “You’ll never be able to capture Blue.”

His smile was all kinds of evil. “It’s already done.” He nodded to the men before turning and striding away.

As she bucked and kicked, she was dragged to a chair. Though she landed a few decent blows, the men were eventually able to force her to sit. And when the cuffs were hooked to the back of the chair, she had to cease all movement. To continue fighting was to lose both of her hands.

Do you want your hands or your life?

In a few minutes she might not be able to have both.

The chair was lifted and carried to the water. Her fear returned, making her tremble.

“How much is he paying you,” she rushed out. “Because I’ll triple it.”

“Sometimes it’s not about the money,” one of them replied. “Sometimes it’s just about the fun.”

She was dumped into the pool, face-first.

The chair was metal, and heavy, and she sank fast, the chemically laced water stinging her eyes, filling her ears. The fear magnified, and panic threatened to overtake her. Calm. Stay calm. Think!

She kicked her legs until she flipped the chair to an upright position. She knew the men were still up there, watching, because she could see their shadows through the surface of the water and the strands of dark hair floating in front of her face.

Can’t let them stop you. She angled her body forward so that she could stand, then walked toward the steps, the chair like a tortoise shell. If she could just reach the steps, she could climb out of the pool and breathe.

They’ll just throw you back in.

Yes, but she would have more time, giving Blue a chance to find her. She knew he would. Knew he hadn’t been captured. He was too strong, too smart. Too determined.

But all too soon, her lungs began to burn, burn so bad, and that burn spread to the center of her chest, then to her throat and nose. Darkness descended like a curtain over her eyes. Where were the steps? She couldn’t see the freaking steps!

Desperate, Evie kicked and pulled at her arms. So she’d lose her hands. So what. Breathe, have to breathe. Please. Please. This couldn’t be the end. Her last memory couldn’t be one of defeat, knowing Blue would be blamed for her death, one way or another.

Suddenly, the water pressing in on Evie lifted and she was sucking in great gulps of air, her lungs practically weeping with gratitude. The chair fell backward, slamming her hands against dry concrete.

She’d made it to the steps? Climbed without realizing it?

Gradually the darkness faded and colors began to take shape. She frowned. She hadn’t actually gotten out of the pool, she realized. She was still on the bottom—the water hovered above her. Like a cloud.

Strange muffled noises snagged her attention. She turned her head and saw Blue standing at the outer edge of the pool, his arms lifted high, as if he were holding the water in place.

She shook her head to dislodge the moisture trapped in her ears.

“—now! Evangeline,” he shouted. “Climb out. Climb out now.”

Yes. She struggled to get to her feet. Her legs shook more violently with every inch she gained, but she did it. She reached the steps. The moment she cleared the ledge, the water splashed back into the pool, a tidal wave, droplets spraying in every direction.

Blue rushed to her side and disabled the cuffs.

“Guards?” she panted, pulling her arms to her chest and rubbing her sore, raw wrists.

“Dead.”

“Tyson?”

“Don’t know.” Blue jerked her into his arms, holding her tight. She didn’t have the energy to do anything more than lean against him and accept his offer of comfort. “I haven’t seen him, but the next time I do, I’m going to gut him.”

The trembling in her legs migrated to her jaw, making her teeth chatter. “Not yet. Star will punish . . . John.” He’d never forgive himself if Star hurt his friend for his actions. “How did . . . you find . . . me?”

“Isotope.”

“Figured.”

“Don’t be mad. It saved your life.”

“No, you did. Just . . . get me . . . home.”

“Okay, baby. Okay. I’ll get you home.”

* * *

In the car, Blue turned the heat as high as it would go and aimed every vent in Evie’s direction. Then he seethed. Fury was a living entity inside him. Fury directed at the Stars. At himself. Hell, even at Evie.

She almost died.

He kept remembering how he disabled Gregory Star with a ring of energy before a shot could be fired, allowing Blue to escape the house. How he used his super-speed to get to the hotel, then through the hotel, screaming Evie’s name. The tracker had assured him she was in the building, but not where. He checked Tyson’s suite, and found evidence of a struggle. He flew up to the roof as a last resort, not really thinking the male would have taken her back to the party, but not knowing where else to look.

Then he saw the men peering into the pool and laughing. Saw Evie at the bottom, fighting for her life. He used what was left of his power to tear the men into a thousand tiny pieces, at the same time lifting the water out of the pool.

As drained as he’d been, he almost hadn’t had the inner strength to do it.

“I never want to find you like that again,” he said.

Her trembling began to subside. “Trust me. A repeat isn’t on my agenda.”

He’d come so close to losing her. He just couldn’t get past that fact.

The feisty, bad-tempered little vixen had become the favorite part of his day. He was happier when she was nearby. He was challenged. Satisfied. Horny as hell, pleasured as hell. He needed more of her. More time. More sex. More arguments. More surprises. More everything. He hadn’t gotten nearly enough.

And the Stars had tried to take her away.

They had to die.

At last they reached one of his more luxurious safe houses and parked in the garage. “How are you?” he asked as he helped her into the living room.

“Better. Stronger already.”

“In pain?”

“No.”

Good. He stepped in front of her, and leaned down, getting in her face, scowling. “I want you off the case.”

She pushed wet strands of hair from her cheeks and stared up at him as if he’d just lost his mind. Maybe he had. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

“No! I’m deadly serious.”




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