She gulped. “I know you want to protect me, but I’m going with Heath.”
“You’re making a mistake that will get you killed.” He opened the door and started moving again. Anya trooped behind him, almost holding her breath now as they walked into a long hallway.
The second she saw Heath, she launched into a run. Instinct ruled her, and she had to get to him.
She barreled right into Heath’s waiting arms. Tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know, so I left, and—”
He kissed her.
Her entire body centered. She kissed him back, letting him take her weight. Sensations bombarded her, from need to want to a sense of safety. Away from him, she’d been so alone and vulnerable. Lost. Now, finally, the world righted itself. She could do this.
He released her. “Take a breath.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing.” She stepped back and wiped her face. “Sorry. Emotional overload.” Heat flooded her face. She didn’t know where to put her hands.
“It’s okay, baby.” His touch was gentle as he smoothed back her hair. Determination glinted in his brilliant eyes. He still wore the faded jeans, boots, and T-shirt from earlier. He stood so tall and strong, all she wanted to do was burrow into him for protection. “I’ll get you to safety.”
Fury and something else glimmered in his eyes? Panic?
“No,” Reese said from behind her. “Be smart. She needs to stay here.”
Heath met the agent’s gaze squarely, even as he moved Anya between himself and Detective Malloy.
Anya forced a smile for the detective. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Malloy said, his gaze watching the two other men with interest. “I guess we’re lucky neither one of them has tried to pee on you yet.”
Humor shot through her, and she burst out with a laugh. Yep. Emotional overload. “Reese, I’m sorry. But I’m leaving.”
He opened his mouth to argue and then shut it abruptly. “Your sister was stubborn, too.” His phone buzzed, and he lifted it to his ear. “Reese.” His shoulders stiffened. “What? Say that again.”
Anya stilled.
“Goddamn motherfucker.” Fury flew across Reese’s face, and another vein bulged along his neck. He turned and threw the phone against the far wall. “Fuck.” He kicked out and turned to punch the wall. Sheetrock flew. Reese turned, a wild glimmer in his eyes.
Agents poured from the far doorway, already armed and suited up. Heath shoved Anya all the way behind him. “What the hell?”
Reese took a shuddering breath and flexed his bloody hand. “Killer took another victim.”
Anya pressed a hand to her shuddering chest. “Oh God. Who did he take?”
Reese shook the white powder off his hand. “Ex-wife of a local cop. She’s more a brunette than a redhead, but I guess she could count.”
“She wasn’t under surveillance?” Heath asked.
“Yeah, she was,” Reese said. “The killer somehow got into her house and got her out, even with a car on her door. He’s good.” Reese turned for the door. “We’ve been dicking around with this, and he took somebody else.”
Anya’s legs wobbled.
Reese turned toward Heath. “Stay in town, and keep her in town and safe. I’ll deal with you next.” He glanced at Anya. “The second you realize you need protection, you call me.”
Then he sprinted toward the door with his agents on his heels. “Let’s find this guy.”
Heath grabbed his phone and quickly texted his brothers. Anya leaned around to read what he sent.
Phoenix. Cobb called cops. Vacate. Now.
CHAPTER
34
Heath drove quickly and kept an eye on the world outside as the winter storm increased in strength. Wind threw ice and sleet at the borrowed Jeep, and the whole day had turned a stormy gray. Malloy had taken his own car—probably back to his station to investigate Heath. Cobb had called Malloy. Was he fishing, or had he found them?
Anya sighed next to him. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
“Always.” His heart had all but leaped out of his chest. Even now, he just wanted to gather her close and hold her for good. “We need to talk as soon as we get to safety.”
“I know.” She settled back down. “I’m done with secrets. It’s you and me, and I’m finished acting like it isn’t. You’re going to give me all of it.”
“Yeah.” He’d never cared for a woman like he did for her. Was that love? Hell, he didn’t know. He always figured he loved his brothers, but this was different. More primitive. It ate at him. The truck skidded on the ice, and he corrected, leveling out.
What was he going to say to her? He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wasn’t sure about taking her on the run for the next several years. The thought of leaving her made him want to punch through the window. For now, she was still in the serial killer’s mind. She wouldn’t be safe from him until he was taken down.
Heath’s phone dinged, and he pressed the speaker, needing both hands on the wheel. “Denver? What do you know?”
“Got your message—we’re mobilizing. Do you have Anya?” Denver asked.
“Anya is with me now, and we’re heading for the safe apartments to pack. We’re getting out of here,” Heath said. Damn, it was getting hard to see through the storm.
“I’ll meet you there,” Denver said. “Ryker and Zara are finishing closing the decoy offices, and I’ll help you close down the main apartments in a few minutes. Should take about thirty minutes, and then we all head separately for safe house Alpha.”
Anya lifted an eyebrow but didn’t speak.
Heath nodded. “Copy that. Don’t only worry about Cobb. You guys stay alert in case the killer makes a move now.”
“He’s got his victim, Heath. He’ll stick to his pattern,” Denver said.
Yeah, the guy did like to sneak in and out without a trace. It was too much to hope that he’d try to take Anya right in front of them. Heath gripped the wheel tighter. “I know. Speaking of which . . . what have you learned?”
“Victim’s name is Jolene Landers. Twenty-six, brunette with possible red highlights, and ex-wife of a cop in town. She lives in a bungalow on the west side, and the killer got in through a backyard entrance and took her around dawn.” Denver typed some more. “The FBI and local police are coordinating to find her.”
“Agent Reese said a patrol car was on her street,” Heath said, maneuvering carefully around a corner. The truck fishtailed, and he quickly regained control.
“Yeah. They didn’t see or hear anything,” Denver said.
Heath slammed his fist on the steering wheel. His temples pounded, and his stomach rolled over. “We have less than a week to find her.” As soon as they got to a secure location and Anya was safe, he’d start working the case. But Cobb was definitely breathing closer, if he wasn’t already in town. Anya was safe for now, but there was still a chance to find the victim before she was killed.
Denver said, “I’m still running a deeper check on Reese, but so far nothing has popped.”
Anya shook her head, sending her pretty red hair flying.
Heath ignored the clear message. “Keep digging. There’s something I don’t like about him.”
“You don’t like that he took Anya from you,” Denver returned evenly. “But I’ll dissect his entire life. See you in about ten minutes.”
“Drive carefully. This storm is strong,” Heath said, ending the call.
Anya held her hands closer to the heater vents. “You can’t suspect Reese.”
“I can.” Heath turned the final corner and pressed a button to allow entry to the parking area of the apartments. “Okay. We’re in and out in thirty minutes.”
She grabbed his arm. “We can’t leave town, Heath. Agent Reese pretty much ordered us to stay here.”
“We’re leaving.” Heath didn’t have time to explain. “It’s time to go, sweetheart.”
“Why?” She crossed her arms as they drove into the quiet garage.
“I’m bait, damn it.”
Oh shit. She really didn’t get it. “You weren’t really bait, darlin’.” Did she truly believe he’d let her just wait around for a serial killer to take her?
“What?” her voice trembled. “Sure I was.” “No. You were covered at all times, Anya. We let you be seen just so he’d get frustrated and maybe make a mistake. But the FBI dropped the ball.” He didn’t want her to think he’d ever let her put herself in danger like that. “I’m sorry, but I’d never let you take such a risk.”
She drew back. “It isn’t your decision.”
“I believe it is,” he said evenly.
Her chin went up. “Oh yeah? Then it’s time you leveled with me. Why else are we getting out of town so quickly?” Her lower lip pouted.
He frowned. She liked to push, and her tone was almost a dare. But it was time to give her the truth. She deserved it. “Ryker, Denver, and I were raised in a boys home where the owner liked to beat the shit out of us. You saw the scars.”
Her eyes glowed in sympathy. “Yeah. That’s terrible.”
“Well, the owner’s brother was the sheriff, Sheriff Cobb, and he liked to get in on the action, too. Had a nightstick he really loved.” Heath kept his voice level, but his ribs ached in memory of that damn stick.
“Oh, Heath.” She released her seat belt and scooted toward him. “I’m so sorry.”
“We lived,” he said grimly. “Then one day the owner killed a kid right in front of Denver. Tried to make me and Ryker say that Denver had done it, we said no, and he rushed us. Both of us swung bats we had, and his head exploded like a melon.” Nausea wound down to his gut. No matter how long he lived, he would never forget that sound. Sometimes he heard it in his nightmares.
“Oh.” She leaned into him and flattened her hand over his chest. “I’m so sorry. But I’m glad you survived.”
“Yeah.” He breathed out, allowing her touch to seep inside him and warm where he’d always thought he’d be cold. “Me too. Well, we set the place on fire and got out. The sheriff has been chasing us ever since.”
She patted right above his heart as if she couldn’t hold still. “You said the law isn’t after you.”
“No.” He swallowed. “He wants revenge, not justice. And there’s more.”
She blinked. “Really. Wow. Okay.”
Somehow he knew, right then and there, that she’d accept all of him. So he gave himself to her. “You’ve noticed my reflexes and super-hearing?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Ryker and Denver seem to have those skills, too.”
It figured she would’ve already noticed their oddities. “Yep. The three of us ending up in the home together wasn’t a coincidence. We were created in test tubes, separated at birth, and then put back together in the boys home to be studied. We’re not genetic brothers, but we actually do have some in Montana. We are brothers, though. All of this was engineered by a doctor named Isobel Madison, who has also been hunting us since we got free. She and Cobb are together now, like they were then, and they’re never gonna stop coming for us.” There. He’d told her everything. His chest felt lighter.
Anya was silent for a moment, her eyes wide. “That’s a lot to escape, Heath. I’m so glad you did.” Her mouth opened and closed. Her eyes blinked several times. “That’s just so . . . much.”
“I know.” He put his hand over hers. There wasn’t time to ease her into the truth or let her absorb it. They had to go, and now. “They’re rebuilding their labs, and they have extremely well trained soldiers working for them. We’re in danger and will be so long as Madison and Cobb are alive.” Would she still care for him if he decided to kill in cold blood? He wasn’t sure he’d like himself any longer, but he was struggling to find another way out of this life. There wasn’t one. Cobb had to die.
“Why are you telling me all of this finally?” she whispered, her hand so perfect right where it was.
“I love you.” He dug deep for the right words. “I mean, I love you. This is new, and it’s everything, and all I want is to hold you tight. Keep you close, protect you. See you grow and get old. I mean . . . all of it. I’ve never felt that kind of love. I mean—”
The outside door opened, and Ryker’s truck roared into the garage with Denver behind the wheel.
Heath coughed. “How about we have the talk once we’re back on the road? We really do have to get out of here.” Then maybe he could find the right words. She deserved the right words, and he’d give them to her.
She squeezed his hands. Tears filled her eyes, and she looked away. “All right. We could both use a reprieve from emotion for a moment, I think.” Then she paused, not looking at him. “I love you, too.”
God. The words hit him harder than a blast of C-4. He swallowed several times over the rock in his throat. “I—”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “We have to go. Let’s talk later.”
Definitely. The world was closing in on them. His chest heated. He moved from the truck and helped her out. “We need to hurry. Just grab what’s essential, and we’ll get on the road.” His nape tickled, and he wanted nothing more than to toss her into the Jeep and speed away from danger.
He nodded to Denver, who had just jumped out of the truck.
“Boxes upstairs,” Denver said, tucking a gun into the back of his waistband. “Security is still in place here.”
“Okay.” Heath ran through the schematics in his mind as he jogged up the stairs with Anya following. Seven cameras and eight booby traps needed to be fetched. Even though Denver had checked the security, Heath scouted the entire apartment before letting Anya retrieve their personal items from their bedroom and bathroom.
“I’ll get the cameras in here,” Denver called from Heath’s kitchen. “You get the security items and personal stuff. We have to get out of here before the storm gets worse or the FBI discovers we have two buildings here in town. We’re on their radar now.”
“We’re on Cobb’s radar.” Heath hurried to the camera hidden inside a sconce in the corner, grabbing a backpack out of the coat closet on his way. Quick movements had the device removed and tucked into the pack. “Number three camera secure,” he called out to Denver.
A wisp of sound caught his attention, and he paused. A slight buzz turned his focus. Was that one of their devices? The frequency was off—way too slow.
Anya moved out of the bedroom with a laptop bag in her hands. “I think I got it all.”
Realization slapped him. “Back!” he yelled, going for her.
An explosion rocked the floor right where he’d been, throwing him sideways toward the granite island. Pain ripped through his side. Fire bit at his arm, and he fell hard, his ears ringing.
Canisters seemed to drop from every direction, gas spewing.
A figure crashed down through the wooden beams, barely discernible through the gas.
“Anya!” Heath croaked, shoving himself to his feet and holding his breath. His right arm hung uselessly at his side, and his shoulder felt like it had been wrenched off. None of that mattered. Where was she? The smoke completely blocked his vision.
An explosion rocked near the fridge, and Denver roared in pain.
Oh God. Heath turned back but could only see smoke. A tremor rippled through his rib cage. His heart clutched.
“Heath!” Anya screamed.
Damn it. He pivoted and ran toward her voice, his heart thundering, his lungs exploding. Tears filled his eyes from the gas. A man in head-to-toe black pulled a struggling Anya out of the bedroom. The guy had on a gas mask and moved with graceful purpose.
Heath fought the need to breath
e and rushed the assailant.
The guy lifted an arm and pressed some sort of device.
The floor blew, and Heath crashed across the room and back into the kitchen, where Denver was sitting up. Agony bore into Heath’s head, and fire burned his chest. Denver frantically patted out fire along Heath’s shirt, his own jeans a smoldering mess.
“Anya,” Heath croaked out.
Denver nodded, blood pouring down his face. He jerked Heath up, and they both tried to make it through the smoke. Pain made Heath’s body try to shut down, but he used every genetic advantage he’d been given to fight it and carry on. He had to get to her. She was all that mattered.
The guy had Anya over a shoulder, and she was out cold.
Heath’s legs weakened, but he pushed on. Denver fell next to him, his head thunking on the destroyed floor.
The gas surrounded Heath and finally got inside. He gasped for air, and his lungs detonated. The last thing he saw before dropping into unconsciousness was Anya’s beautiful red hair hanging down the back of the Copper Killer.
CHAPTER
35
Anya opened her eyes, her body a dead weight, mist still hovering around her head. She lay on something soft, but she couldn’t see what it was. Sounds came to her. Sleet against a windshield. The hum of a heater. Windshield wipers. She tried to lift her head and drifted back into the darkness.
Something drew her awake again, and she tried to focus. Movement. She was moving in some sort of vehicle. A song on the radio crooned around her. Her brain was fuzzy, and she couldn’t make out the words.
She couldn’t feel anything. The darkness surrounded her again, and she fell into it.
Another song. More movement. She blinked to see broad hands on a steering wheel. Somebody whistled with the radio. She fought to stay awake, but she fell again.
She jerked awake. How much time had passed?
The air chilled her, and her eyelids struggled to open against some type of cloth. Fear slammed through her, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. She sat on what felt like a sofa with her hands tied behind her back and a blindfold covering her eyes. A fire crackled and provided heat in front of her.
Lethal Lies Page 28