Men in buff-colored uniforms poured in through the doors of the hangar, guns up, eyes raking the interior of the hangar. Their bullet-proof vests read, “Alliance.” KT slumped against the metal floor of her cage with a surge of relief. Alliance Rangers. The cavalry’s here.
Torne popped up from behind a man-high tool chest and fired three shots. One Alliance man went down. Another dragged him behind a stack of tires while the rest of the team took cover and returned fire.
Time to get out of this thing. KT sat up and snapped the ties at her wrists and ankles. Andi tried to claw herself free of KT’s control. KT nixed that idea. I need hands, not claws.
Through the bars of the cage, KT glimpsed Peyton grappling with Massey before the two men disappeared behind stacks of tires and boxes.
She lunged for the door of the cage. Her fingers scrambled to turn the lock. Andi crouched just under her skin, becoming more and more agitated by the action outside the cage. Scents, colors, and sound intensified as Andi fought to break free of KT’s control.
A frantic twist opened the lock. KT shoved it out of the clamp and thrust the door open. She dove to her right and rolled behind a wooden crate. The whine of a bullet preceded a shower of splinters above her head. She scrambled to the other side to peer around the edge. Another shower of splinters from a nearby crate made her duck back out of sight.
Gunshots echoed off the walls of the hangar. She pressed as close to the crate as possible and vainly attempted to see both sides at once.
A sudden barrage of shots nearly deafened her while movement to her left caught her attention. Under the storm of gunfire, Torne sprinted into view, headed for a closed door KT hadn’t noticed before about halfway down the side of the hangar. Massey and Peyton followed, hard on his heels.
Torne slammed into the crash bar, and out the door, to disappear in the darkness beyond. Just ahead of Peyton, Massey slipped through the opening and the door swung shut behind them.
KT crouched behind the crate. Andi snarled for her to follow Peyton. Hunt!
Logic, and Peyton’s instructions, told KT to stay put until the shooting stopped. But the muffled sound of shots outside the hangar made her decision for her.
Peyton!
Staying low, KT sprinted toward the door. Shots continued to echo through the air. She gasped a quick prayer that none made it her way. She burst through the door and dove to the right as it swung shut again. Scooting along the space between the parked cars and the side of the hangar, she distanced herself from the door as quickly as she could.
A lone light shone above an open gate in a high chain-link fence at the far end of the hangar. Andi growled, uneasy. The shadows between the cars could hide an army. As if to compensate for the ringing in her ears from the gun battle inside coupled with the roar of jet engines, KT’s eyes and nose kicked into overdrive.
Blood! KT eased up enough to peer through the windshield of a large sedan. But whose?
The whine of jet engines faded away, and in the buzzing silence, a car engine snarled to life. Tires squealed somewhere to her left. She flinched back from the glare of headlights as a low-slung sports car spun out of a parking space.
“Stop!” Her attention snapped to her right at the sound of Peyton’s voice.
Over the hood of the sedan, she saw Peyton standing behind the front end of a pickup truck about midway down the opposite lane, a gun aimed at the car. The car accelerated, and he fired. A shot from inside the car made Peyton stagger. He held his position and fired a couple more times. The car zigzagged toward Peyton and two more shots spun Peyton around to disappear behind the truck.
“No!”
She sprinted toward the truck, keeping low, and with one eye on the sports car as it raced toward the open gate in the rear fence. In the glare of the overhead light, she glimpsed Torne hunched low over the wheel. He made a sharp right turn just outside the gate and, for a split second, KT saw a face through the passenger window, staring back.
KT stumbled to a stop. Patricia? Just a flash of an oval face surrounded by a cloud of dark hair. KT’s heartbeat sped up. Patricia!
Two Alliance Rangers raced from the end of the hanger, tracking the vehicle with their guns, shots accompanied by flares of brilliant light. The car never paused. Gravel rattled against the chain link fence as the car fishtailed onto the access road and disappeared from sight, one taillight going out in a flash of light.
Shit! What was Patricia doing in Torne’s car? Was it Patricia? It’d been so quick. Could she trust the fleeting glimpse? She couldn’t be sure what she’d seen. She took a quick breath, the scent of blood drawing her back to the scene. Peyton!
She ran around the front bumper of the truck. The glint of light on a gun barrel stopped her in her tracks. Then the gun dropped out of sight.
“Damn it! Just like a princess! Didn’t I tell you to stay inside?”
Peyton sat against the door of the truck, one hand holding his gun on his thigh, his other hand pressed against his chest. As she hurried forward, her foot kicked something that rolled away with a clinking sound—an empty salipen.
KT dropped to her knees beside him. “Peyton?” Her hands touched his pulse, his shoulder, his hand where blood seeped through his fingers, before returning to his pulse. She counted Peyton’s wounds—three. Two in his right shoulder, the third far too close to his heart for her comfort.
Andi raged beneath KT’s skin, frustrated and frightened.
“What in the hell are you doing out here?” Anger, hot and fierce, made Peyton’s words a growl and she matched his glare with one of her own.
“Following Torne out here without back-up was stupid.”
“And rushing out here unarmed wasn’t?” Peyton grunted.
A voice shouted. “Clear!”
KT stood up and looked around. Rangers with flashlights moved among the parked vehicles and she spied a ranger kneeling next to a figure lying on one side of the lane. She hadn’t even noticed Massey in her dash to get to Peyton. As she watched, the ranger’s hand passed over Massey’s face, and he stood up.
Her heart plummeted. Massey was dead?
“Over here!” She waved her hand, then brought the other up when the ranger spun, gun ready. “I’m KT Marant and there’s a man here who’s been shot.”
KT winced in the glare of the ranger’s flashlight. “Just keep your hands up where I can see them, miss,” he said, moving toward her. When he reached the truck, he looked from her to Peyton.
“Captain Peyton Allers, Alliance Protectors,” Peyton said, his voice unsteady to KT’s ear. He fumbled his wallet out of his pocket and tossed it, open, on the ground.
The ranger looked down at the ID then lowered his weapon and his flashlight. Blinking away the miniature supernovas in her vision, KT lowered her hands. He keyed his shoulder mike. “Need a ParaMed ambulance in the rear parking lot.”
“10-4.”
The ranger knelt beside Peyton and swung a small pack off his shoulder. “You couldn’t move any faster than that, Captain Allers?”
Peyton grunted as the ranger pushed Peyton’s hand away from his chest wound. “Torne’s reputation as a marksman appears well-earned.” He looked up at KT as she knelt on his other side. “Can’t you follow simple instructions? You were supposed to stay inside.”
A dozen unhelpful retorts snapped through KT’s mind, but she bit her tongue because he was right, and she knew it.
“Hold these against the shoulder wounds,” the ranger said, handing KT two unwrapped bandages. She did as she was told, shifting a little to get a better angle and trying not to exert any more pressure than necessary.
The ranger tore a hole in Peyton’s shirt so he could get a better look at Peyton’s chest wound, courtesy of a penlight held between his teeth.
Trying not to think about all the things the bullet could have done to him, KT focused on Peyton’s face as he let his head fall back against the side of the truck. Pain deepened the lines in his face and staggered his breath.
His skin seemed too cool under her fingers and the anger in his eyes began to fade as he appeared to strain to keep his eyes open. A knot the size of a bus settled in her chest, and she struggled to take a deep breath.
There was so much blood!
She leaned over to whisper into his ear. “Don’t you dare die on me, Peyton! I need you to stay with me.” When she straightened, his eyes were closed. Only the visible pulse in his neck kept her from shouting. “Peyton?”
The voices of the other rangers flowed over her, calls for support, confirmation of the car description and license plate number, and requests for orders. Cryptic military jargon rattled in the air and stuttered out of communicators.
She looked at the ranger who had begun to bandage the chest wound. “Where’s that damned ambulance?”
“On its way,” he said. He handed her a fresh pad. “Keep up the pressure.”
KT looked at the pads she’d been holding against Peyton’s shoulder. Dark stains had spread beneath her fingers, and her hand shook as she replaced the pad. A deep breath steadied her, despite the iron tang of blood in the air. Peyton’s blood.
The wail of the approaching ambulance echoed Andi’s howl.
Chapter Six
“You should have stayed at the hanger.” Peyton glared at KT over the shoulder of the Paranormal Medical Technician. “You could have been shot.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t, or you might have bled to death out there,” KT snapped.
Peyton snorted, but then winced as the other PMT shoved an IV into his arm. “Not likely. They’ll just patch me up and I’ll be back in the hunt.”
“How about you let us be the judge of that,” said the female PMT as she pressed an oxygen mask to his face effectively shutting him up.
Squeezed into a corner of the ambulance, KT tried to stay out of the way of the medics working on Peyton. The female paramedic applied fresh bandages while the male paramedic adjusted the IV. Both PMT’s kept up a constant stream of incomprehensible medical jargon between themselves and the radio to the closest paranormal hospital.
And through it all, KT kept mentally repeating to herself, You’d better not die on me, Peyton Allers. Don’t die on me!
At the hospital, she all but tumbled out of the back of the ambulance in the wake of the PMT’s. An ER nurse tried to keep KT from following the gurney down the hall, but froze when KT snarled at her. KT kept pace with the gurney and stayed well out of the way of the nurses and doctors clustered around it.
“I need an operating room, STAT!”
“Hang another bag and get that bleeding under control!”
“Where’s that anesthesiologist?”
The swinging doors muffled their voices when they passed through into Surgery. KT stopped the doors’ swing with her foot. Her palm against the glass, she watched through the little window as the gurney and its entourage disappeared through another set of doors.
Andi pushed hard for KT to follow the gurney, to follow Peyton.
KT’s fingers curled into frustrated fists. Don’t you think I want to? We can’t. She turned aside and slumped against the wall. We can’t.
She ran her hands over her face and then up through her hair. The painful pull of tangles might have explained the tears that welled up in her eyes, but she knew better. Panic continued to clench her heart and rob her of breath. She slid down the wall and dropped her head between her bent knees.
She hadn’t felt so helpless or frightened since—
“Ms. Marant?” a female voice asked, pitched low and non-threatening.
KT looked up to see another nurse standing a short distance away, a worried expression on her face. The nurse stooped to bring her face close to KT’s level, but her eyes focused over KT’s shoulder, mimicking a submissive pose. “The ambulance driver told me the gentleman is Captain Peyton Allers?”
KT nodded. She remembered the ranger speaking with the driver while she was climbing into the ambulance.
The nurse relaxed. “We have a VIP waiting room upstairs.”
“No,” KT said.
“Okay. Then, we have another waiting room, just down here, where you can have some privacy, Ms. Marant.” She held out her hand. “Will you come with me?”
KT took a deep breath and nodded. She certainly couldn’t stay out here in the hallway.
Andi growled. No. Stay.
KT pushed her down. We are, just not out here.
She rose to her feet, glanced at the nurse’s name badge, and nodded again. “Of course, Nurse Helena. Thank you.”
The nurse led her the short distance to the waiting room and pointed out the amenities. The private bathroom, where KT could clean herself up. The coffee maker, with individual portion cups for making coffee, tea or hot chocolate. The phone, if she needed to call or receive calls from family. The control for the television, blessedly turned off.
When the nurse’s voice faded into silence, KT tried to give her a smile, but suspected she failed miserably. “You’ve been very kind. Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Nurse Helena said. She nodded her head toward the double doors. “I know how it feels to have someone you care about in there. Now, I’m going off duty, but if you need anything, just pick up the phone and dial zero.”
“Thank you, but I’ll be fine.” KT sat down on the couch.
This room smells of fear, Andi whined. Why can’t we go after Peyton?
We just can’t, KT returned.
The nurse hesitated and then asked, “Is there someone I can call for you before I leave? Your father?”
KT flinched inside at the thought of her father’s reaction to her part in tonight’s events. By now, the Alliance team would have contacted him. That she had taken such a risk without speaking to him first would send him through the roof. Her cell phone back at her apartment had probably exploded under the pressure. That conversation would have to wait until her head was clearer.
“No, thank you. I’ll call him in a few moments,” she said.
“Well, try to relax. Doctor Williams will come out and let you know how it went. Captain Allers is in good hands.” She smiled and then hurried away.
KT stared at the opposite wall where an over-sized painting of a sun-drenched landscape tried to emulate a restful environment. The waiting room’s calming pastels and subdued lighting should have helped, but KT, and Andi, only wanted to get up and pace.
Why was she here anyway? Why was she here?
Yeah, she wanted to make sure Peyton would be okay, but she couldn’t actually do anything for him.
He’s our alpha, Andi insisted. We wait for him.
Quit saying that. KT shook her head. Aside from helping me get close to Torne, Peyton is a total stranger. I know nothing about him.
He’s a worthy mate. Strong. Brave. Loyal. Smart. Andi paced along the edges of her mind, irritated. He protected us. He’s our alpha.
KT shook her head. To Andi, it was so simple. “I may be a were, but I don’t choose a mate like this,” she said aloud.
I chose him, and so will you. Andi’s certainty and satisfaction unshakable.
KT huffed. Arguing was useless. Andi would have to learn to accept KT’s judgment on this topic. And yet, here she was, waiting, as if she had a personal stake in Peyton’s condition.
She took a deep breath. Well, of course she did. As a clan leader, she’d been trained to hold her people’s well-being as a priority. Peyton got shot helping her with a plan he believed hare-brained from the start. She was responsible. She just wanted to make sure he came through surgery. Then she could leave.
You won’t. Andi’s confidence scraped along KT’s nerves.
Especially since KT sensed the jag was right. She hit her fist on her thigh. Why was she here?
She took another breath and wrinkled her nose. The smell of dried blood surrounded her and her skin itched with it. Going into the little bathroom, she got a look at herself in the mirror of the tiny bathroom and finally understood the nurse’s o
ffhand comment about cleaning up.
Dark stains covered her shirt and pants. Streaks of dried blood smeared down the side of her face and neck. Peyton’s blood.
She gripped the edge of the sink for a moment as her vision blurred. The throbbing in her temples reminded her of the feel of his heartbeat under her hands. A dozen deep breaths later, she calmed enough to pry her fingers from the rim of the steel bowl.
When she’d practically filled the wastebasket with crumpled paper towels, KT gave up. Her skin was scrubbed clean and she had finger-combed the worst of the knots out of her hair. Wet blotches on her shirt and pants chilled her skin, but the worst of the stains appeared to be gone. She exited the bathroom, flicking off the light and fan, and returned to the couch in front of the painting.
Looking around the empty waiting room, she realized she should have stayed at the hangar. She should have told someone what she saw. That she saw Patricia with Torne.
KT’s heart twisted. It was so dark and it all happened so fast. Did she really see Patricia in that car? She could have been mistaken.
The image flashed across her mind’s eye again and KT had to accept what she saw. Patricia’s oval face, dark eyes wide, generous mouth forming that little “O” of surprise, as if she recognized KT in the same moment.
What was Patricia doing in a car with Douglas Torne? Had he collected her, too? Was she a hostage?
A hostage left alone in a car outside the hanger? It didn’t make sense. Abduct someone, hold them for weeks, and then leave them unattended in a dark parking lot while you went inside? Inside a building without windows?
Unbidden, her father’s voice dropped into her mind. “Someone in the Alliance is giving the Collectors the locations of isolated weres.”
He’d told her that the night before she left for New York. It had been one comment in a long argument about her refusal to have a bodyguard or to stay at the penthouse. She’d assumed he was admitting that her fears for Patricia may have been correct, but could his comment have meant something else?
What if Patricia wasn’t a victim? What if her role was not as victim, but as corroborator? Could she? How could she?
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