ISAAC Washington collected the to-go cup of coffee and two bagels and headed out of the small shopping center a few blocks from the DSS offices. Due to the popularity of the locally owned coffee shop and bakery and the fact that it was the morning rush hour in Houston, he’d had to park all the way on the other side of the highway in the extended parking lot by the strip mall.
Good thing it was winter—or as close as Houston weather ever got to winter—so he didn’t sweat his ass off by the time he’d made the long trek. As it was, there was a slight chill to the air—courtesy of last night’s cold front—that was a nice change from the oppressive heat of summer and fall.
He was almost to his SUV when he noticed that his driver’s side door was open. Son of a bitch! He was forever forgetting to lock his damn door and, well, he left his keys in the ignition more times than not when he was doing a quick in-and-out someplace.
He dropped his coffee and bagels, quickly drew his firearm and then stepped between two cars before slowly advancing around the front, keeping low as he closed the distance between him and his vehicle.
He continued to do figure eights around the remaining cars until he had just one left to go. He crept around the back, wanting to come up behind whoever was trying to jack his fucking SUV, trapping the punk between the open door and a loaded pistol.
Cautiously he rose just enough to get a good sight line to the perpetrator and frowned when he saw a slight figure in a hoody with several holes in it. The jeans weren’t in any better shape and the hood of the top was covering the guy’s head. Judging by the size, it looked to be a teenager looking for a joyride.
Whoever it was sucked at stealing a vehicle. The guy wasn’t even checking his six to make sure the owner—or anyone else—was coming up on him. When he started to slide behind the wheel, Isaac knew he had to act now and hope to hell the dude wasn’t packing firepower.
“Hold it right there,” Isaac said, coming into view, his gun trained at the back of the kid.
The body in front of Isaac went rigid and then the teenager slowly turned around to face Isaac. All the wind rushed from Isaac’s lungs in one forceful exhale when he got his first good look at the “kid” trying to steal his ride.
A young woman stared back at him with huge, frightened eyes. She’d gone unnaturally pale, which made the blood and swelling around her mouth and nose even more evident. Even dressed as she was, in the condition she was in, the only thing that came to his mind was that he had to be staring back at an angel.
Strands of pale blond hair stuck out from the hood of her top, framing marred but otherwise porcelain skin. The blood looked incongruous with the image she projected. As his gaze drifted down her poor attire, he noticed she wasn’t even wearing any damn shoes. It wasn’t freezing by any means, but it was too cold to be running around dressed as she was and barefooted.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she whispered, her lips trembling.
Her entire body shook, her hands held upward in a gesture of surrender. His earlier anger over having his vehicle stolen fled and was replaced by a strong sense of protectiveness—and rage at anyone who would hurt such a tiny, innocent-looking woman.
“What’s your name?” he asked gently as he lowered his gun before sliding it back into its holster.
Terror flared in her crystal-clear blue eyes. He’d never seen such an unusual shade of blue in someone’s eyes before. That, paired with the blond silky hair and her delicate-looking, fair skin, further cemented the image of an angel in his mind.
“I-I c-can’t tell y-you that,” she stammered.
His face softened. “Are you in some kind of trouble? I can help you. My job involves helping people who are in trouble.”
She shook her head emphatically. “Please just let me go. I’m so sorry about . . .” She broke off and her hand fluttered weakly toward his vehicle. “I just didn’t know what else to do.”
“Honey, I don’t think you’ve taken a good look at yourself,” he said gently. “You’re bruised and bloodied up pretty bad and you’re not dressed for the weather. You don’t even have shoes on.”
“I need to go,” she whispered. “I have to go.”
Isaac took a step forward, sensing her urgency and her impending flight. He didn’t know why it was so important to him not to let her just leave, but hell, could he let anyone just walk away after seeing the condition this mystery woman was in?
She shrank back, drawing into herself, a protective measure that was likely instinctual and not at all conscious. He could feel his expression blacken at the thought of why she might assume she had so much to fear from a complete stranger. But then again, he could see her point. They hadn’t exactly met on the best of terms. Certainly not when he’d been pointing a gun at her.
“Let me buy you something to eat. I just came from the coffee shop in the strip mall, but when I saw my door open, I ditched my coffee and bagels. I think you could use a little warming up too.”
He could see the yearning in her eyes at his mention of food and hot coffee and his gaze automatically swept over her slight figure, noting her thinness. There were hollows under her eyes that suggested lack of sleep as well as lack of having anything to eat.
God damn it. She had all the hallmarks of a domestic abuse victim. Boyfriend? Husband? Hell, maybe it was her father. She looked young enough to be a teenager. Her eyes were the only thing that made her appear older. Eyes that had seen too much. Old beyond her years. Educated the hard way, at the University of Life Sucks.
“I swear to you I won’t hurt you,” he said in a soothing voice one might use with a wild animal. “I’m sure as hell not calling the police or turning you in for attempted auto theft.”
Her face went even whiter at his mention of the police and he cursed his reckless words.
She opened her mouth to speak when Isaac heard the familiar whine of a bullet, and then the car next to him shuddered violently on its frame as the shot struck the tire, the echo of the shot reverberating loudly in the distance.
“Down!” he yelled, lunging for the woman.
As he circled his arms around her waist, he turned to thrust her to the ground so he could cover her with his body. He was simultaneously reaching for his own gun when more shots struck his SUV and the car beside it, and then pain exploded through his chest.
His mouth fell open in shock and for a moment he was rendered incapable of movement. Then the strength left his legs and he collapsed like a deflated balloon, hitting the ground with a thud right beside the woman, who was sprawled on the concrete a mere foot away.
“No. No!” the woman said hoarsely. “No, no, no!”
Her face appeared over his, concern and agony making her features starker than before. A sense of shock—and failure—assaulted him as he felt his body begin to shut down. After everything he’d encountered and fought against over the past few years, this was the way he was going out?
“Listen to me,” he rasped, startled when his voice came out as the merest thread of a whisper. “Get in my SUV. The keys are in it. Haul ass out of here. Get yourself to safety. There’s no helping me. I’m dying.”
“No!” she denied. “I won’t let you! I won’t!”
She scrambled to him and suddenly her face hovered over his, her blue eyes flashing nearly silver as her hoody fell back, and a cascade of curly pale hair blew around her neck as wildly as her hands ran over his bloody chest.
“Go,” he croaked, coughing and then choking as the metallic taste of blood coated his tongue.
Then she closed her eyes and her forehead creased in agony, and he gasped when her palms pressed deeply against his chest. It was like being hit by lightning. An electrical charge. His heart stuttered, then paused and his vision went blurry, her delicate features growing dimmer.
He stopped fighting the inevitable—death. He relaxed, expecting the end to come at any moment as coldness reached the inner core of his body. But then the most amazing sensation jolted him to awareness. Warmth. The most beautiful warmth he’d ever felt in his life slowly seeped into his veins, carrying with it the whispers of hope, of a new beginning,
He tried to speak, to protest, to ask if this was the end, but all he could do was gasp as his vision cleared once more and he saw the unbearable strain etched into every facet of her face.
Never had he felt a more wonderful sensation. Being warmed from the inside out. His laboring heart and lungs seemed to relax and still, and there was no pain, only . . . a resurgence. As if a surgeon had his hands inside Isaac’s chest, meticulously repairing the mortal damage done by the bullet.
He lifted his hand, shocked that he had the strength to do so. He greedily sucked in sweet, life-giving breath and marveled that not only was there no pain, but that what he felt couldn’t be described. No drug, no narcotic or pain-relieving agent could ever produce such a wonderful feeling.
He reached for her wrist, shackling it with his fingers, unsure of what she was doing but knowing she had to stop. She was in danger. The shooters were still there. Could be coming for her even now.
Her eyes flickered open the instant he touched her and his own eyes widened when he saw the turbulent whirl of flashing colors that made the once pale-blue orbs undetectable.
“Don’t,” she gritted out between tightly clenched teeth. “I am not finished. You must let me finish. I will not let you die.”
He let his hand fall away, numb with shock over what he was witnessing—no, experiencing. He’d thought by now nothing could shake him, catch him off guard, that nothing unbelievable was ever so in the world he lived and worked in. But never had he imagined such power, such an ability. Surely only God had the power over life and death?
But no, that wasn’t true. Men and women killed one another every day. Humans decided death far more than they ever decided life, and yet this woman . . .
His entire body shuddered and the upper half jolted upward as if he’d been defibrillated. He felt the cold concrete through his blood-soaked jacket and realized that he was warm. Alive. Whole. And breathing.
He stared at her in awe, only to see utter despair wash through her soulful eyes. Her hands fell away and she pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them as she rocked back and forth, tears sliding down her cheeks.
Realization was swift. By saving him—healing him—she’d given up any opportunity to run, to escape. The resignation on her face broke his heart even as he lay gasping in wonder at being alive. He cautiously ran his hand over his chest and drew it away to see the smear of blood on his palm. But it came from his clothing. No longer was he bleeding. No longer was there a gaping wound in his chest. But there was residual weakness, or maybe he was just in shock—who wouldn’t be? He was in no shape to haul himself and her into his vehicle and make a getaway. He’d just end up getting them both killed, or rather himself killed again. Her only shot was to get the hell away and leave him behind.
He reached over and snagged her ankle, shaking her gently to gain her attention. She glanced up at him with dull eyes and he gestured to his SUV.
“Hurry, before they come! The keys are there. Go!”
She shook her head even as more tears trickled down her face.
“God damn it, get out of here! I have backup coming and I still have my gun. Someone will be here for me in a few minutes. For God’s sake move!”
For the first time, hope flickered on her face even as shock registered in her eyes. He started to shove himself upward when he found himself flattened by her entire body as the sound of more bullets punched a dozen holes into the side of his SUV.
Her eyes were wide, a swirling vortex of pain, grief and abject terror. He felt her intense stare to the bone, the weight of her stare drawing him straight into its turbulent depths. There wasn’t a single part of her that wasn’t pleading with him, and when she spoke, he flinched at the anguish so thick in her every word.
“You have to hide. They can’t know of what I did. No one can. Never tell anyone about me. Please,” she begged, wrapping her tiny hands around his, lifting them and pressing them to her chest. He felt the erratic beat of her heart against his knuckles and then registered the fact that she was shaking violently.
He didn’t dare draw attention to the fact that the pool of blood he was still lying in would be a dead giveaway or she’d completely fall apart. As it was she was only holding on by the thinnest thread. Letting go of her hands, losing her touch left him feeling suddenly bereft and hollow, like a part of him had died. But he pushed her toward his vehicle anyway, his tone purposely harsh and commanding as he pinned her with his most forceful and authoritative stare.
“Go while you can, damn it. I said someone will be here for me any minute now. Don’t you dare let those fuckers get their hands on you.”
God, he hoped he wasn’t lying to her about his back up. He’d managed to activate the “oh shit” button, as his teammate Eliza had named the transponder they all carried with them. He wasn’t far from headquarters. Hell, someone should be on the scene already.
“For fuck’s sake listen to me” he bellowed. “I don’t know who the hell you are, lady, or what the hell you did, but I’m not about to let someone who just saved my life get her ass killed instead.”
She scrambled up, keeping her head low, and slithered between the door and the interior. She turned and looked one last time at Isaac and he could swear she was pleading with him for forgiveness. The door slammed behind her and the engine cranked. He winced when the SUV lurched forward, stopping then going, the brakes screaming in protest.
Well, fuck. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to send her away. It didn’t appear that she even knew how to drive. Hell, she didn’t look old enough to be driving. He ground his teeth in frustration over his inability to provide her with the protection she so desperately needed and just prayed he’d made the right decision.
Testing his body’s responses, he rolled to his stomach and then belly-crawled around the front of the remaining vehicle, his knuckles white from his fingers being wrapped so tightly around his gun. He leaned heavily against the grill of the car and waited, one hand still rubbing his chest in disbelief.
“Isaac,” a low, distant voice called. “Sitrep.”
Isaac blew out his breath in relief when Zeke, one of the newer DSS recruits, announced his arrival.
“You got backup?” Isaac said in a voice just loud enough to carry.
“Dex is with me. What’s going on, man?”
“Shooters. Didn’t get a bead on their location, but they weren’t close when they first shot. No idea if they’re still on scene or if they’re closing in. Watch yourselves, and I hope to fuck you’re packing some serious heat.”
He heard Dex snort and took that as an affirmative.
“You take a hit?” Zeke demanded.
Isaac opened his mouth and them promptly shut it again. How the fuck did he answer that question? Yeah, he’d taken one hell of a hit. He should be on his way to the morgue to get a toe tag, but it was as if the wound had never happened. As if his heart and lungs hadn’t taken a mortal blow. How to explain that to his partners?
“No time for questions. I’ll explain later. Get me the fuck clear. Just don’t get your asses shot.”
“Not in the game plan, my man,” Dex retorted. Then he paused a second. “You need a medic?”
“No. Just wheels.”
“Shadow is on scene now and is scouting for the shooters. If they’re still here, he’ll take care of it,” Dex said.
That much was true. Shadow came by his code name because he was just that. A shadow that no one could detect. No one would ever know he was on them until it was too late.
“Good idea,” Isaac murmured. “But tell him to watch his six. There was more than one. Shots were fired from at least three different sources.”
“He’ll take care of it,” Dex said confidently. “I’m more concerned about your condition.”
“I’m fine,” Isaac insisted. “Just don’t like being a sitting duck.”
“We’ll have you out of here in no time. Just relax and keep your guard up. Zeke and I have you covered and Shadow will take care of any remaining threat.”
But what worried Isaac was that he hadn’t been the target. His thoughts froze. Or . . . Maybe he had been? The shots hadn’t been aimed at the woman. Not a single bullet had hit the vehicle she was closest to, while he, on the other hand, was lucky he still had his balls. This hadn’t been about him at all, nor was it a random shooting by rank amateurs. It had been an intended abduction resulting in collateral damage—almost. They wanted him dead and her alive. At least only one of the results they’d wanted had been accomplished.
Either way the mysterious angel was in serious trouble, and he’d be damned if he left her helpless and running from the assholes who’d made it clear they didn’t play nice. He had no idea what they wanted with her, but even as he contemplated the reasons why, he rubbed a hand over his chest—his completely healed chest that showed no sign of the very real kill shot. His unmarred chest gave him a pretty damn good idea why a bunch of damn assassins had her on the run and terrified out of her mind.
If her abilities were known—and he’d bet his last dollar that someone knew about her miraculous gift—they wanted it. There were any number of factions that would stop at nothing to have her under their thumb.
Fuck that.
She’d saved his life. And even if she hadn’t, after one look at the bruised and bloodied, fragile slip of a woman, there was no way in hell he wouldn’t move heaven and earth to make damn sure she was protected at all times. This was personal. This wasn’t a DSS mission where she’d be assigned to a team or another man. She was his to protect. And if Caleb, Beau or Dane had a problem with that, then they could go to hell. He’d hand in his resignation and take on the job himself.
“What the fuck?” Zeke roared as he and Dex appeared in front of Isaac. “You said you hadn’t taken a hit. Jesus fuck, there’s blood everywhere. You need an ambulance and to get to the hospital now.”
Isaac sighed and then simply pulled away the blood-soaked shirt so they could see the unmarred flesh of his skin.
“Look, guys, I know what it looks like but if I told you what happened, even with the shit you’ve been exposed to working for DSS, you’d likely haul my ass to a psych ward.”
“Try us,” Dex said calmly.
Isaac blew out his breath and then related the entire story, from the time he saw his door open to when he took a mortal shot to the chest and was miraculously healed by the mystery woman.
To their credit, the only response they displayed was a rise in their brows.
“So you just let her go? Without protection? So those assholes get another shot at her?” Zeke asked in disbelief.
“I made her take my ride,” Isaac snapped, glaring at Zeke. “I wasn’t in a position to protect myself, much less her, and I couldn’t justify such a huge risk to her when I knew my backup would be here within minutes.”
Shadow appeared seemingly from nowhere, but his scowl indicated he’d been privy to the entire explanation. Which was just as well, since Isaac really didn’t want to rehash it.
“And that helps her how?” Zeke asked in a persistent tone.
Isaac shook his head at how slow on the uptake Zeke was. And reinforced his glare, his nostrils flaring in irritation. “She took my company vehicle.”
Realization flickered in his teammate’s eyes.
“You going after her?” Shadow asked, drawing Isaac’s ire from Zeke and right on himself.
“What the fuck kind of question is that?” Isaac snarled.
“Okay, so when do we go after her?” Dex questioned.
“Now,” Isaac said impatiently. “Hell, it didn’t even look like she knew how to drive, so it’s not like it’ll be that hard to tail her. While we’re wasting time here rehashing shit that can wait, they could be on her even now.”
Zeke gave him a concerned look. “Shouldn’t you go to the ER or at least the private clinic used by DSS just to get you checked out?”
“And tell them what exactly,” Isaac said his patience fraying precariously. “That I was shot in the chest, heart and lung hit? Bled like a stuck pig and I felt myself dying and oh, by the way, my mystery woman laid hands on me and healed me? I felt the damage being repaired from the inside out. Trust me. If a doctor examined me, he’d find no evidence of a gunshot wound.”
Dex whistled. “That’s some pretty crazy shit.”
Isaac snorted. “After knowing what Ramie, Ari and Gracie can do, nothing should surprise you by now.”
“Yeah, man, but this is different,” Shadow said quietly. “She heals people. She pulled you back from the brink of death. You said it yourself. You felt yourself dying, shutting down, and yet now no one would ever know you’d even been injured at all. That goes beyond the psychic abilities our women possess.”
“Yeah,” Isaac said, blowing out his breath. “Now you’re getting it. Which is why I have to find her as soon as possible before someone else nabs her. She’s going to have a target on her back for the rest of her life. Probably always has. Makes sense to me now that I know the story and why she was trying to steal my ride, why her face was so battered and she wasn’t dressed for shit. Hell, she didn’t even have shoes, for fuck’s sake.”
Zeke’s expression blackened to the point of being murderous. “You never said some asshole had beat her up.”
Dex and Shadow’s reactions were no less volatile.
“Help me up and let’s get the fuck on the road. We’ll need to activate the tracking system on my SUV so we know where she is and how far she got, or if she’s still going.”
Though it was left unsaid, the grim expressions on their faces reflected the knowledge that she could already be in her pursuers’ hands.