Damon stood stock-still, almost unable to believe his eyes.

Baz. The man who’d been his best mate for ten years, who’d helped him found The Garden, who had stood beside him and fought back their enemies.

Now Baz was the enemy.

Baz leaned against the large median that divided the escalators. It was a shiny metallic, roughly two feet wide. All around him people were getting on or off the escalators, a crowd protecting him. “Come on, Damon. Surely you have something to say to me. It’s been almost a year after all. And look at you all up and moving about. I knew you’d pull through. Oh, did your girl there drop this?”

He held up the blue and white card Penelope had dropped.

“Damon, I think we should call the police.” She started to move, pulling out her mobile. “You’re wanted for attempted murder, Mr. Champion.”

Baz threw back his head and laughed. He was dressed in all black, a ball cap on his head. He would blend into the crowd, easily moving about the city. Damon doubted that the CCTVs would pick up his face. He was too well trained. SIS had made sure of that. “Good god, man. You’re shagging the help. How the mighty have fallen. Get rid of the girl. We need to talk.”

Damon reached out, pulling Penelope behind him. This was one of those things he intended to avoid later. He would teach her to always stay behind him in a dangerous situation. “You don’t move a muscle. That’s an order.”

“But Damon, I can’t get a signal,” she complained. “We need to find the authorities.”

The authorities wouldn’t be able to handle Baz. They would only cause trouble and this was between him and his ex-mate. He needed to get Penelope somewhere safe. “And I need you to keep your mouth shut for a moment. This is none of your concern. Get on the next train toward Holborn. Change to Piccadilly and a friend of mine will be waiting for you at Gloucester Road. Do you understand my instructions?”

Her hand clutched his arm. “Damon, I can’t leave you.”

Anger and fear were a toxic mix in his system. “You bloody well can, and if you can’t follow orders then I have absolutely no use for you. Are we understood? I am your superior and I expect to be obeyed without question, so you will move your arse and if I find out you’ve called anyone, I’ll make your life a living hell and you know I can do it.”

He knew he’d been too harsh, but she was standing right in front of a hardened killer who wouldn’t think twice about slitting her throat if he thought it would get to Damon. He couldn’t be gentle with her.

And damn it, she was supposed to obey. He glanced briefly at her, enough to see that she’d gone bright red, tears shining in her eyes, but her mouth remained stubbornly closed and she nodded.

“I need my card.” She moved toward Baz, holding her hand out as though he would just politely give it back to her and not use her as a hostage.

Damon gripped her wrist, pulling her back. “Bloody well take mine and get the fuck out of here.”

“You’re being terribly rude, Damon. I hope he doesn’t shoot you again, but only because I’m a better person than you.” She turned and walked off.

Baz chuckled. “Isn’t she that stick-up-her-arse translator? She’s gotten a bit cheeky. Maybe you took the stick out and replaced it with something more personal, eh, mate? You always did like the chunky ones.”

“Give me one reason I don’t kill you right here.” Because now that Penelope was out of the line of fire, he couldn’t think of a single good one.

And he was definitely getting her a gun and making sure she knew how to use it.

Baz twirled his finger, gesturing to the large crowds around them. “Well, first of all, you don’t really want me to open fire on all these very nice people. And then there’s all the CCTVs. I don’t think Nigel wants his golden boy featured on telly. Or maybe that would solve his problem. They don’t want you in the field, you know. You’re used goods, done up and all that fun stuff.”

He needed to stay calm, but he felt his anger rising, a real visceral element threatening to take over his body. “You don’t know a damn thing.”

Baz shrugged negligently. “Course I do. I read your medical records. When I need a good laugh, I read them again. They’re my favorite bedtime story. You can’t seriously think we don’t still have people at SIS, do you? As for that, I work for a company that has even better access than SIS. Taggart’s crew did a good job hiding your medical records. SIS doesn’t even know you saw a doctor in Dallas. You know, the one who found the issue with your heart. It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

He thought Adam Miles had hidden those files. The doctors who had saved his life hadn’t found the damage to his heart. It had only been once he saw a specialist in Dallas that the true extent of the damage had been discovered. Taggart had helped him hide it from Nigel, but it looked like the news was out. “That’s really none of your business, is it?”

“It’s all my business. But don’t worry that I’ll tattle. I like the idea of playing this game with you.” He stopped for moment, his eyes looking up and down Damon, making him uncomfortable in a way only Baz ever could. “I meant what I said though. You really do look good.”

He tried to ignore Baz’s personal comments, sticking on the more professional statements he’d made. The thought turned his blood cold. He’d been gone for months. He hadn’t really thought about the fact that there could be more moles. He couldn’t even convince Nigel that The Collective existed. “If you have people in SIS, I promise you I’ll find them.”

“Maybe you already have.” His eyes drifted to where Penelope had disappeared. “She would be the perfect mole, you know. She’s so innocent looking no one would suspect her. Maybe your new girl is really working with me. After all, how else did I find you so quickly?”

If there was one thing he knew, it was that Penelope Cash couldn’t betray a fly, much less her country. “Don’t bother. I won’t believe a bloody thing you say about her.”

“It’s worth a try. Think about it. She really is perfect. She’s smart. She’s always in the office. She could get access to your records and no one would suspect her because she’s such a sweet little thing.”

He wasn’t going to allow Baz to drone on. “I’m going to bring you in. I promise. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to be the one who takes you down.”

Baz’s eyes went oddly blank and the smile on his face dimmed. “It would be fitting, of course. You know I didn’t really want to shoot you. I had to. I had to try to keep my place in SIS. I’m not as valuable on the outside.”

His heart was racing, adrenaline beginning to pound through his system. He kept his eyes on Baz, ready for any kind of movement from him. “I’m so sorry to have wrecked your plans.”

“I think I didn’t finish the job because I didn’t really want to. You know the drill. Two to the chest. One to the head. I couldn’t do it.” Baz took a long breath. “I knew it was a mistake the minute I walked out, but I couldn’t make myself go back and finish the job.”

He was supposed to feel sympathetic because Baz had only shot him once? Had only taken out one of his lungs? “What are you doing here?”

He needed to get his hands on him. He could wrestle him to the ground and…what? Get him to HQ? The British Transport Police would show up and he didn’t exactly carry an SIS card on him. They would both get shoved into lockup while things got sorted out.

“I told you. We need to talk.”

That would be a mistake. Baz was a snake. One didn’t sit about and talk to a snake. One stepped on it before it managed to bite. “We have nothing to talk about.”

His smile was back. “I think we do. We need to have a sit-down, and if you don’t give me what I want, I’ll have to do something drastic to convince you. I’ve been watching you. You like the girl. Let’s talk about what happened to the last girl you fancied. Jane. I think that was her name. She was prettier than this one. You’re slumming, mate.”

Damon had been the one to bury Jane. She hadn’t had any family past the one she’d found at The Garden. He’d trained her, hired her to work, allowed her to live in the building. He’d fucked her when it was convenient. He certainly hadn’t loved her, but he’d been fond of the girl. She’d been his responsibility, under his care, and Baz had taken her life because she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The need to wrap his hands around Baz’s throat was overwhelming. It took everything Damon had not to move on him. He heard the train whoosh in. Penelope would be safe on the train. She would be on her way to the station where Taggart was waiting for them. She could tell him what had happened, and Taggart would come.

And then he could deal with Baz.

“Why don’t we go somewhere quiet and have this talk of yours?” The minute he got Baz out of the crowd, he would pull the knife he had in an ankle strap and slit the fucker’s throat.

Baz’s dark eyes rolled. “I’m not going to be alone with you, Damon. I’m not that stupid, and it wouldn’t go the way you think it would.”

“I’m not going to stand here in the middle of the station and conduct business.” He needed to get Baz away from so many potential hostages.

“Fine. I’ll make it simple for you then. I need you to get me in to see Nigel. It’s serious. We have a major problem, and I’m the only one who can help. Tell him it concerns the assignment on the ship.”

The train pulled away, the sound accompanied by a rush of air.

Penelope was gone, and there was no way Damon would allow Baz into SIS headquarters or within a mile of Nigel.

Baz’s eyes trailed to the escalators, narrowing. They were filled with travelers.

Damon remained still. He would only have one shot at him. The crowd would slow him down. “If you want to talk, this is how to do it. Surrender yourself and we’ll have a chat. The only way you see Nigel is from behind bars.”

Baz’s jaw tightened, eyes hardening. “That’s not going to happen. We will talk, Damon. On my terms. And tell your girlfriend that I’ll be seeing her.”

In an instant, he took off, but not on the escalator stairs. No, he leapt onto the metallic median that divided them and started running up at a near-impossible angle.

Damon followed, gracefully hauling his body onto the median. He stared up for the merest moment before starting to climb.

Everyone was watching, turning, and shouts began as Baz moved easily up toward the station above. The minute he got to ground level, he would be able to lose himself on the streets.

Damon followed but his dress shoes were already slipping.

And he could feel his body failing.

Baz stopped halfway up, turning slightly. “Don’t even bother. These aren’t exactly shoes you can get in a store. One of the perks of my job. Our tech guys are far better than yours.”

He stood there, grinning down as Damon struggled.

“Are your lungs burning already? How’s the old ticker working?”

God, he wished Baz hadn’t found those records. Damon managed to move another three feet before slipping again. Rage poured through him and he pushed on, jumping to the escalator steps when a spot opened. The steps were moving in the opposite direction of where he needed to go. “Move!”

The crowd shifted, trying to get out of his way, but he was fighting an uphill battle.

His lungs burned, his heart pumping. He pushed, dragging oxygen in, forcing it down as he ran.

And Baz just stood there and laughed. “It’s not going to work, mate. You’re done for. You should let them put you out to pasture because I might not have taken your life when I shot you, but I damn sure took your balls.”

He was almost there. Blood pounded in his ears, blocking out everything except the sound of his heart threatening to explode.

“Tell your slag if she wants a real man, I can take care of her,” Baz shouted, his arms out as though embracing the chaos he’d wrought.

Damon pressed on. All he could see, think of, was getting his hands wrapped around Baz’s throat. He would stop him. He would make sure Baz never got near Penelope. The very idea of him getting his hands on her served to fuel Damon’s rage.

So close. The pain in his chest sharpened, but he ignored it. He could push past it. The weakness was nothing. He could do it. He could make it. He was stronger than this.

The world narrowed to just him and Baz, his vision closing in on his enemy. A black fog played at the edge of his consciousness, but it didn’t matter. He would get the fucker. He would…

Baz winked down at him, turned and ran up the escalator, his shoes clinging to the metal, making it possible for him to run.

Damon pushed on. He just needed to get to the top. When he got to the top, he would call the tech boys and figure out how to track him. They would take over the CCTVs. If they just kept him in sights, they wouldn’t need to see his face. Hell, Chelsea was very likely watching him. She’d been playing with hacking the CCTVs when he’d left and she’d promised to track him. She was smart. She would keep him in her sights.

He could still do this.

His legs moved, working to get him up the mountain he seemed to be climbing. His arms pumped. His vision began to fade.

A lightheadedness took over.

The world went gray, and he fell back.

Pain flared through his system, his head pounding.

“Damon? Damon?” An insistent feminine voice pulled him from the fog.

He opened his eyes, and Penelope was staring down at him, a worried look on her face. “What happened?”

One minute he’d been closing in on Baz, and the next he was looking up at someone who should be at Gloucester station by now. He seemed to be at the bottom of the escalators, lying on the floor, his head in Penelope’s lap.

“You fell. You almost got to the top and then you just fell back. If someone hadn’t caught you, you would have tumbled down the entire way.” She smoothed his hair back, her palm cool against his skin.

It felt nice. And wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here.

Damon forced himself to sit up though his head was reeling. “You disobeyed me.”

She remained kneeling on the ground, her hand coming out to drag him back to her. “Lie back down. A medic is on his way. I couldn’t find a transport officer. They’re apparently dealing with some sort of threat.”

So Baz had covered all his bases. He’d set up a distraction to keep the police at bay. But a medic would come. A medic who would write a report that would find its way to SIS and give them one more reason to pull him out of the field. He coughed, forcing his damaged lungs to work. Every breath ached, but he had to get out of here before that medic showed up.

And he was viciously angry at her. It wasn’t fair, but she was the only one around to take the brunt of his rage.

He tried to tamp it down as he got to his feet and straightened his shirt, ignoring the stares of people around him. “Let’s go. There’s a train coming in now.”

He didn’t care where it went. He would get on it and make his way home where he intended to make it very clear to his new partner exactly who was in charge.

“Damon!” She followed after him, reaching for his hand. The train pulled to a stop. It was going the wrong way but anything would do. “You need to see someone. You fainted.”

He gripped her wrist, pulling her onto the train.

Mind the gap between the platform and the train.

The ever-present reminder not to fall between the cracks echoed through the station as the doors closed. That’s what would happen to him if Penelope had her way. He would fall through SIS’s gap. He would be an operative without a mission, useless and meaningless. He would go back to his former life. Nothingness.

That wasn’t going to happen. He couldn’t let it.

The doors closed, and he herded her to the back of the train where the bench seat was open. “Sit down.”

There was fire in her eyes as she looked up at him. “I know you’re angry that I didn’t obey, but I couldn’t leave you behind. There was no way I could get on a train and leave you behind with that man. He nearly killed you before.”

“And what exactly did you think you could do? He wasn’t going to start speaking German. I didn’t need a translator.”

“I thought at least I could be with you,” she said, her eyes sliding away from him. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone. I think you should see someone, Damon.”

He kept his voice low, barely above a whisper as he took the seat beside her. One long agonizing breath and he felt more in control, at least able to speak to her without frightening the others on the train. He’d brought enough attention to himself this afternoon. Still, he had a point to make with her. “I think you should mind your own business. And if you tell anyone at SIS that I fainted…”

Her own face was a careful blank. “Yes, you’ll ruin my life. I am well aware of that. You’ve properly threatened me, Mr. Knight. If you prefer to kill yourself, who am I to care? Now, I would like very much to go home and be done with this charade.”

His heart was starting to squeeze again. “I told you. You’re coming with me.”

She stared straight ahead. “I don’t very well want to come with you anymore.”

Because he’d hurt her feelings. She was a stubborn thing. He hadn’t counted on that. Damn it all, he needed her. If she walked away, the whole operation very likely got shelved. “Ah, so you don’t get your way and the operation is finished.”

A little huff came out of her throat, and she finally turned his way. “That’s not fair.”

“None of this is fair, Penelope,” he shot back. “You know how much is riding on you and the very first time I don’t do exactly what you want, you threaten the entire job. I really didn’t expect that from you.”

She was a person who wanted to please, needed it. It was precisely what attracted him to her, but it was also a weakness he would use against her.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t work, and I know why you’re intimidating me. You don’t want me to say anything to Nigel. He doesn’t realize just how bad your lungs are.”

No one knew. He didn’t even really understand what the problem was. “He doesn’t realize it’s affecting my heart, too. Baz nicked it when he shot me. The real damage wasn’t apparent until later. I had a second surgery in the States. It should be fine, but it’s not.”

“And you won’t see a doctor because it would go on your reports. You’re mad, you know.”

“I’m trying to keep my job.” He ground the words out. No one understood, but then they didn’t have to. It was his bloody problem.

“At the cost of your life?”

“My job is my life, Penelope. It’s all I have. I will fight for it. I’ll fight you and anyone else who thinks to take it away from me.”

They sat in silence for two stops, the train moving beneath them in a familiar rhythm. He knew he should be thinking about Baz and what he was going to tell Nigel. SIS had to know about him being in London. He would have to explain how he lost the bugger in the crowd.

He should have been plotting out just how he would handle the situation, but all he could think about was how much he wanted Penelope to look at him again. Not with tears in her eyes. He wanted her to look at him the way she had at the wedding, like he meant something to her.

He’d had plenty of women who wanted him, used him for a good time in bed. Penelope was the only one who looked at him like he was worthy of something more, like he would really protect her, would take care of her in a way that didn’t involve shagging.

“Are you really all right?” she asked.

He turned to look at her. Even in profile, she looked soft. She had no place in his world. He was going to hurt her in the end. It would be so much better if he let her go. But he wasn’t going to do that. He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t going to let her get away from him.

He slid his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together. She tried to pull away, but he placed his other over hers, trapping her, holding her. “I’m fine now, darling. Let’s get home and put this behind us. We have a job to do, after all.”

She stared ahead, but he felt her relax.

The train rolled on, and he rather wished they didn’t have to get off.