The Thief

She was smart. She had stepped behind another of the large crates that dotted the interior to exchange clips.

When she reemerged, he had a brief impression of her—long dark hair, dark eyes, just like Ricardo’s, and, Marisol was right, the faces were shaped the same.

And then he shot her.

In the chest.

The impact sent her reeling back, her gun going off in a spray as she tripped off her feet and fell to the ground.

In any other circumstance, he would have closed in and made sure to finish the job, but his shot had been clean and he’d nailed her a good one—more the point, Marisol was in that departing Mercedes and she was all that mattered to him.

In spite of his injuries, he closed his eyes. Tried to calm himself.

Breathed deeply so he could dematerialize…

SIXTY

As the Mercedes skidded out onto the road, Sola pounded on the door with her fists. “Let me out of this fucking car!”

The instant shots had rung out, she had leapt for the exit—only to find herself locked inside. And then there had been a roar and a lurch, the car’s powerful engine thrown into gear and flooded with gas, her weight thrown back and to the far side.

The cursing scream that rose up in her throat could not be denied. And she didn’t even try to hold it in.

Assail had been a sitting duck. Why had they let him go in there alone?

“Let me out!”

Done with the yelling, she went for the nine millimeter she’d been given, outing it. And then she put the muzzle to the back of the driver’s skull and snarled, “I said, let me the fuck out.”

They were speeding along the empty city streets, blowing through red lights and stop signs, getting farther and farther away from that warehouse. From Assail.

Oh, God, he could be dead—

“I swear to Christ, I will shoot you!”

“No,” Vishous said in a bored tone. “You won’t—”

To prove her fucking point, she shifted the muzzle ever so slightly to the right and pulled the trigger three times—blowing out the entire front windshield, the safety glass spidering and then falling back into the front seat in sheets because of their velocity.

“I sure as fuck will!” she hollered at the top of her lungs.

Suddenly, the world was in a blender, the vampire punching the brakes and wrenching the wheel to the side, sending them into a screeching one-eighty. No, three-sixty.

Sola ripped her finger off her trigger as she marble-in-a-jar’d around in the backseat. And then things moved so fast, she had no idea what happened.

Somehow, by the time the sedan lurched to a halt, her gun had been taken from her and Vishous was pointing it right in her face.

He was furious, his white eyes so angry, they threw shadows as he panted.

As cold air from the shot-out windshield replaced the warmth from the heater, and she smelled gasoline and burned rubber, the vampire lit into her.

“You are really. Fucking. Lucky,” he yelled—before seeming to force himself to calm down. At least temporarily. “That Fritz likes taking care of this car and will think that replacing that piece of glass is a treat. Because if he didn’t, Assail or no Assail, I’d be drilling you full of holes right now, sweetheart!”

Sola panted along with him, her arms splayed out, her body half on, half off the seat. Between heaving inhales, she No-More-Wire-Hannnnnnnnnger’d him back: “Don’t. Call. Me. Sweeeetheeeeeeeeeeart!”

Black slashing brows popped up in surprise.

And then Vishous let out a crack of laughter. “Yeah,” he said as he lowered the gun. “I do like you. You can stay—”

At that moment, impossibly, Assail appeared from out of thin air, his body seeming to materialize in the bright illumination of the headlights.

“Assail!”

With the doors locked, she didn’t even try them. She shoved the vampire behind the wheel out of the way and dove through the massive hole she’d created, her palms getting scratched on the glass, her head banging into something, her feet scrambling for purchase as she propelled herself out onto the Mercedes’s hood.

Squeaking, slipping, crying, she leapt off the car and nearly tackled Assail.

The moment she made contact with his body, she realized she didn’t care what the fuck he was. Man, male, human, vampire, she just really didn’t give a shit.

He had been a mystery when she had first met him. Then a source of incredible sexual attraction. After that, she had run, and not just from the life she had been leading, but from him, too. She had been so scared by the love she had found.

And when she had come back, and nearly lost him, she’d discovered home.

“You’re alive,” she croaked against his chest. “Oh, God, you’re alive!”

His arms came around her with hesitation, as if he weren’t quite sure whether to believe his good fortune. But then he was holding her like he never wanted to let her go.

Pulling back, she put her hands to his face and looked into his moonlight eyes. “I don’t care,” she said. “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care. I just don’t want to be without you. I love you, however you are—”

He didn’t let her finish. He kissed her so deep, he took her breath away.

Sola had no idea what the future was going to bring. How this was all going to work. Whether she had lost her damn mind.

But she was smart enough to know that when fate sent you true love, no matter what form it took, you needed to accept the gift.

Besides, at least now her grandmother would start talking to her again—

As she dropped her hands to his shoulders, she frowned and broke their contact. Looking down, she saw blood on his fine overcoat.

“You’re bleeding,” she said.

“I love you,” he replied.

“No, wait, you’re bleeding…” She pointed at him—and noticed more blood on him. “You’re bleeding!”

“You were right. It was Benloise’s sister. I think she got me a couple of times—”

Sola jumped back and punched him in the chest with both palms. “Are you even kidding me! I told you not to go in there alone! I told you she’d recognize you! Are you out of your mind!”

As he doubled over with a curse and grabbed for his injured shoulder, she switched to Spanish and kept yelling at him, her adrenaline overload coming out verbally and then some.

Vishous got out, came over, and just shook his head ruefully, like seeing a male who was full of lead slugs getting slashed and burned by his significant other was just the normal course of business. He even lit a cigarette, like he knew they were going to be there for a while.

Eventually, he cut in. “How about we take this show back on the road, huh? The human cops are out this time of night, and not just to eat donuts—”

The sound of a cell phone going off cut through her tirade.

With a frown, Assail reached into his inner coat pocket and took out that burner. “It’s her,” he said tightly.

“Speakerphone,” Vishous ordered. “If you don’t mind.”

Assail complied, and Sola stopped breathing just so she could focus on the female voice that came over the connection.

“If you’re answering this,” the woman said in well-articulated, only slightly accented English, “I can guess you somehow survived.”

“I am well enough,” Assail said, “and you?”

“I was better prepared than you thought. Kevlar is the new black, haven’t you heard?”

“Thank you ever so kindly for the update. I shall have to remember that.”

“Just so we are clear, I will kill you. I will find you, and I will kill you, and I will settle the score you started.”

“Such ambition. You are your brother’s sister, after all. But I think you will find that I have tricks up my sleeve and friends in very low places. You might reconsider the goal given what the prize is going to look like for you.”

“I am not afraid.”

“You should be.”

“I will see you soon.”

“I look forward to it.”

As the call was ended, Sola became abruptly aware that Assail was weaving on his feet—which had a pool of blood around them.