by Cynthia Eden
Wait, what?
His hands tightened on her. “You’re mine, and I’m not going back.” His mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was fierce, hot, and absolutely consuming.
She sank her fingers into his hair. Held tight. Yearned. And wanted—
His mouth tore from hers. “We don’t have time. Fucking hell.”
She was panting. So was he.
“I want you, Luna. Never doubt that. But your safety comes first.” He backed away, as much as the shower would allow. “So get that gorgeous ass out of here. Get dressed. We’ll steal a ride and find another safe place to land.” His eyes gleamed. “Then I will have you again.”
She didn’t understand him. Desire was heavy within her. Her breasts ached, and all she wanted was to jump the guy but…
Danger. Tracker. Evil guys closing in.
She slipped from the shower. Wrapped a towel around her body. She could feel his gaze on her with every movement that she made. Her shoulders hunched a bit as she hurried from the bathroom. Luna was sure that she was leaving a trail of water in her wake. Steam spilled into the motel room with her. Her gaze cut to the left, then to the right. His phone was on the table there, his phone and…
Right. A knife. Because, of course, the guy would have been armed with a knife. He’d probably had it strapped to the inside of his ankle or hidden in his boot. She hadn’t exactly noticed him removing a knife when they’d been all hot and heavy earlier. Hell, maybe he’d even kept his boots on while they were having sex. She’d been a wee bit too involved to focus on details like that, but now she hurried toward the weapon.
Luna picked it up, holding the knife carefully. After drawing in a deep, bracing breath, her fingers slid down to her side, to the scar that marred her body. The only scar she’d found on herself. If trackers were hidden in scars, this was the most likely place for one on her. Her fingers slid over the small ridges, searching for any spot that felt rougher, thicker. Her eyes narrowed. That one spot…right there.
Was a tracker under her skin?
One way to find out.
Luna clenched her back teeth, and she let the blade sink into her skin.
Chapter Seven
Blood. Luna’s blood. The coppery scent hit Maddox’s nose, and he let out an enraged bellow. He leapt from the shower and raced into the motel room, his fists clenched and death in his heart. He would destroy—
“I-I think I got it.” Blood dripped down her hip. She held a knife—his knife—in her right hand, and her left was pushing against her side. “It was in the scar, just like you said. No need for the…hospital now.”
Fucking hell. She’d just carved herself open. He bounded to her. Took the knife. Threw the damn thing. “Luna.”
She gave him a smile. A smile. And his chest burned. “It’s okay.” She seemed to be attempting to reassure him. “Just a scratch.”
No, it fucking wasn’t okay. And it wasn’t a scratch.
“I…can you help me? I-I feel something in there.”
His gaze dropped to her wound. Her blood-covered fingertips were sliding over her skin. His body trembled for a moment. Fury and fear clawed through him.
She shouldn’t hurt.
“Get it out,” Luna whispered. “Please.”
He hadn’t wanted to do this. He should have kept his mouth shut in the shower. He’d planned to check her near Aspen, then if she’d had a tracker, he would have put her under while it was removed. But…
Shit. “Yeah, baby,” he fought to keep his voice gentle, “I’ll get it out.” His fingers slid over hers. He pushed against the slice she’d made on her skin. The trackers were never hidden too deep. He pressed down, and she sucked in a fast breath. Then…
The tracker slipped into his hand. It was half the size of Luna’s pinky fingernail. He dropped the blood-covered tracker and smashed it beneath his bare foot.
“They know where I am.” Her eyes were wide. “I thought I was being so smart by ditching the SUV. But they know…”
Someone knew. At this point, he wasn’t sure who all they were dealing with. Just how many people were out there gunning for Luna?
“We need to go,” Luna said as another long, fat drop of blood slid down her side.
He looked at his fingers. Luna’s blood was on his hands. “Yes,” Maddox bit out. “We do.” But first he was going to clean her up. Get rid of the blood. Luna healed fast, faster than any super soldier he knew, so the wound would close on its own.
“You’re angry with me.”
It wasn’t anger. “Baby, I fucking hate when you hurt.”
Her eyes widened.
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “If I had my way, you’d never know pain again.”
***
They came upon the police car an hour after they’d left the motel. Maddox had stolen a pick-up truck. One with good tires and four-wheel drive. He’d taken the liberty of switching tags with another vehicle, a tactic to buy him a little more time.
They’d ridden in silence as the dark miles had passed by. Luna hadn’t spoken, and he hadn’t known what in the hell to say to her.
Then he saw the police lights up ahead. Maddox stiffened as the swirling blue lights lit up the road. “Shit.”
Luna leaned forward. “I think there’s been an accident.”
At first, he’d worried they might have stumbled right into a road block, but he could see the patrol car was positioned on the side of the road. Another vehicle was there, an older, four-door car that had flipped onto its roof. As they drew closer to the crash, a woman appeared. She was on the side of the road, her body shuddering. “Help me! Help me!”
“Maddox…” Luna whispered.
“The cops are there.” One patrol car, but he saw two officers trying to open the back door of the overturned vehicle. “They’ll help her.”
Luna rolled down the window. “I smell gasoline.”
The woman had already whirled away from the road and raced back to the wreck.
“Someone is in the back of that car.” Luna’s voice was still quiet. “Trapped.”
He’d slowed down the truck while he neared the patrol car’s bright lights. No one else was around. Just a long stretch of road.
“The cops can’t open the door,” Luna said.
He could see them struggling, and Maddox knew what Luna was going to say even before—
“But we can,” she added.
He slammed on the brakes. Shit. Shit! “Stay here.” Maddox jumped from the truck even as he heard Luna’s soft voice calmly reply—
“No.”
She slid out of the truck, too. And he growled at her as they hurried toward the wreck. The woman he’d seen before spun toward him. Tear tracks covered her face. She grabbed Maddox’s arm. “My son is in the back! We can’t get the door open!”
“Get back!” One of the uniformed cops barked at the same instant. A young, fresh-faced guy, with wind-tossed, dark hair. “The car is gonna blow. Don’t need anyone else gettin—”
The mother had let out a sharp cry when he said blow. She rushed back to the vehicle, pounding on the rear passenger door. Screaming for her son.
Maddox’s gaze flew over the scene. The front windshield was smashed. He was betting the mom had crawled out that way. The driver side door looked like a fucking accordion. The vehicle must have rolled several times before it stopped, and the doors were all hammered in and twisted. His nostrils flared as the scent of gasoline grew stronger.
The cop was right. The vehicle was going to blow.
He lunged forward. Grabbed the back door. “Clear out, now!” Maddox bellowed. And he yanked that rear door away with a fierce burst of strength. The metal shrieked as it tore loose, and he grabbed for the kid still in his booster seat. A little boy, one who was bleeding from his temple. A boy with red hair and pale skin. A boy who appeared to be barely four or five years old.
A boy who wasn’t moving.
He snatched the boy out of the vehicle and ran, even as the car
erupted behind him. The flames lanced over his skin, and he hurtled forward, but he made sure to keep a protective grip on the kid. Maddox slammed into the ground, but he rolled his body, curling around the child.
“Saul! Saul!” The mom shrieked her son’s name as she rushed at Maddox.
Maddox carefully positioned the boy on the ground. “Get an ambulance,” he ordered the cops. “Now!”
“Already on the way,” the cop to the right said. The younger cop. The one who was staring down at the child with fear etched onto his face.
The other uniformed cop had dropped to his feet near the child. The guy was older, with a grizzled jaw. His hands went to the boy’s throat. Seconds later, the cop’s terrified gaze flew back to Maddox.
He’d already known, though, that the cop wouldn’t find a pulse. Maddox hadn’t heard the kid’s heart beating.
“Saul?” The mom was trying to fight her way to him, but the younger cop was holding her back. “Saul, open your eyes! Saul, it’s mommy!”
The older cop—face lined and grim—began CPR.
CPR wasn’t going to help.
Luna slipped closer. She dropped to her knees before the boy. “He’s not moving.”
“I fell asleep—just for a second!” The mother’s voice rang out, so desperate and ragged. “We’d been driving all day. I thought…oh, God, oh, God, I thought I could make it to the next exit, and we’d get a room, and it was so dark and I just—Saul!” Her pain-filled cry cut through the night. Maddox looked back in time to see the mom fall to her knees.
“What’s wrong with him?” Luna asked. “I don’t…I only see the blood on his temple.” And her hand reached out to the boy.
“Luna!” Maddox snarled her name, but it was too late.
He’d seen this happen before.
Luna’s whole body jolted when her fingers touched the child. Her eyes flared wide, and a low, keening cry escaped her.
Maddox tried to jerk her hand away from the little boy, but Luna was strong. So much stronger than most people realized.
“I can fix him,” Luna said, and her voice was different. Ragged. Whispery. And Maddox knew she was already working on the little boy.
That was Luna’s talent. Her psychic bonus that had come from Lazarus. She could heal.
But she couldn’t bring back the dead.
“Luna, no,” his hands closed around her shoulders, “he’s—”
The cop who’d been doing the CPR jerked back.
The kid coughed.
Luna put her hands on the boy’s head. “It’s all up here.” Her hands slid to his neck. “So much pain.” She shuddered.
“What in the hell is she doing?” The grizzled cop demanded. He, too, reached for Luna. “What—Jesus Christ, she’s burning up!”
Luna got hotter when she healed. Her body heated up.
“Get the cop away,” Luna spoke with that whispery voice again. “The boy…he needs more…”
The cop looked up at Maddox. The fellow’s hand went to his gun.
Maddox just snatched the weapon from him. “We aren’t here to hurt anyone.” His voice was flat. Low. “That kid isn’t going to survive unless you let my friend work on him.”
But the cop lunged toward him. Maddox touched the guy’s chest, and the older cop fell, right there, crumpling on the ground.
The mother screamed again. Maddox whirled and saw the second cop was rushing at him.
Another touch.
The officer hit the ground.
The mother stood there, eyes wide and stark, her body trembling. The car burned behind her. And…
“M-mommy?” The little boy’s quiet whimper.
Maddox looked back at the child. At Luna.
She pulled her hands away from the boy, and he sat up, his movements sluggish.
“Mommy?” A weak cry.
Luna rose, staggered a little, but stepped away from the kid.
The mother ran to her boy, scooping him into her arms as she cried.
Maddox glanced around the scene. One burning car. Two unconscious cops. And a boy that was gonna live. He tilted his head, and, in the distance, he could hear the sound of an ambulance’s wailing siren.
He hurried to Luna. Swept her into his arms and didn’t break stride as he rushed them back to the truck.
“Wait…” Luna’s fingers grabbed his arm. “We can’t…l-leave them. They need—”
He tucked her into the truck. Pulled the seatbelt across her chest. “He’s okay. You fixed him, baby. But now we have to haul ass.” His fingers slid under her chin as he tipped back her head. Her pupils were the size of pinpricks, and her skin was way too hot. “You’re gonna crash, and crash hard, but I’ll take care of you.”
Her lashes drifted shut, but she blinked, jerking them open as she swayed in her seat. “Maddox?”
“I’ll take care of you,” he said again, knowing she didn’t have long. “Trust me.”
Her eyes sagged closed once more even as a low whisper slipped from her. “C-can’t…”
Maddox stiffened. “Why not, baby?”
Her breath fluttered out. “You…scare me.”
***
Maddox pulled the covers up to Luna’s chest. His fingers slid over her forehead. She was still warm, but no longer blazing hot. She’d been out for the ride to the safe house just outside of Aspen. Luna hadn’t stirred at all when he carried her inside. How much longer would it be before she opened her dark eyes and stared at him?
You…scare me.
Jaw locking, he turned from the bed—and found Jett propped up against the doorframe. He’d known the other guy was there, of course, and it was time to lay all of his cards on the table.
He didn’t speak as he shouldered past Jett. Instead, Maddox stalked into the hallway, climbed down the staircase, and marched straight for the refrigerator. The place was kept well stocked, and ice-cold beers were inside the fridge. He grabbed one and downed it fast.
“Must have been some pretty bad injuries,” Jett murmured from behind him. “If our girl is still out after all this time.”
He rolled back his shoulders. “The kid’s neck had snapped.” He’d seen the unnatural angle in the car. “He wasn’t breathing. Wasn’t moving. A cop was trying CPR, and Luna—”
“Luna did the rest.” Jett sauntered toward the fridge. Grabbed himself a beer. Saluted him. “You told her what she could do, so at the first opportunity, the woman was obviously going to use her talents on the kid.”
“I didn’t tell her that she could heal. I didn’t tell her a damn thing about that.”
A furrow appeared between Jett’s brows.
“She just reached for the boy and did it.”
Jett shook his head. “Guess some things can’t be forgotten.”
Maddox slammed the empty beer bottle down on the counter. “It’s too freaking dangerous for her. You know it. I know it. If she tries to bring back someone who has injuries that are too severe—shit, she takes that pain into herself.” She burned through the pain. That was what she’d told him, once, when he’d held her as she shuddered. “Have to burn it off, then I’ll be better.”
“You didn’t want her to realize what she could do.” Jett took a long drag from the beer. “Keeping secrets is some shady business. Especially with her.”
“She’s died healing civilians before.” He glared at Jett. “She died healing you before.”
“She comes back,” Jett muttered.
“And loses every damn memory she formed! She loses herself, over and over again. Am I supposed to just sit back and watch it happen? We got lucky with that kid tonight. She healed him without killing herself. But it was a near fucking thing.” He spun on his heel and paced to the window.
“Just take a breath.” Jett’s voice was low. Soothing. Like that shit was going to work with Maddox. “She’s okay. The kid—according to what you told me—is okay, too. Happy endings all around.”
This wasn’t a happy ending. He closed his eyes. Blew out a h
ard breath. “She…did something to me.”
“Yeah, man, I noticed. That woman has you all tied up in knots. I mean, I get that you were hot for her before, but this is like times ten level shit.”
Maddox whirled to face him.
“You fucked her, didn’t you?” Jett gave him a pitying glance. “I told you that was a bad plan. You know the subjects aren’t supposed to be together that way. It’s dangerous. That’s what all the docs say. We can’t—”
“I had memories.” Maddox’s flat announcement cut through Jett’s words.
Jett put down his beer. Suddenly, his gaze was very sharp. “Want to run that by me again?”
“I had memories. Two flashes that I think were from my life before Lazarus.”
Jett bounded toward him. “Don’t you bullshit with me about that.”
“I had the flashes come—each time—when Luna was touching me.” No coincidence. “And her hands were hot. The way they get when she’s healing someone.”
Jett didn’t say a word. Silence from Jett was unusual. It was also a bad sign.
“Tell me that I imagined it,” Maddox finally snapped at him. “Tell me there is no way…” But his words drifted away.
“There’s no way the woman could have shown your past to you?” Jett’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Maybe she could have, though. She heals, we both know that. Our memories are gone, so that means our minds have to be damaged in some way. Maybe when she touched you, she was healing you. And the memories you’d lost came rushing back.” His lip curled. “You lucky sonofabitch.”
Maddox unclenched his jaw.
“What did you see?” Jett demanded. “Tell me.”
“A beach.” He swallowed. “I was standing on a beach.” His eyes narrowed. “Gulf Shores.” The name had come to him in that flash or memory or whatever the hell it had been. “The sand was like freaking sugar. White and soft, and I was staring out at the waves.” Right before a blond asshole told me that he was marrying Luna.
“And in the other flash?”
“I think I was dying. I got shot. And the wounds match up with the scars I carry.”