Dark Warrior Unbroken

by Dark Warrior Unbroken (lit)

  That did it. “Like hell I’m one of you! For one thing, I’m a law-abiding citizen, unlike some I could mention.”

  “Come on, cut us some slack, Lena.” Sandor evidently had his voice back.

  She rounded on him. “Cut you some slack? You haven’t seen me calling the police, have you? At least not yet.”

  It was time to put some distance between herself and this bunch of crazies. Granted, it was hard to ignore the evidence right in front of her face, but she would not be drawn into their world. She couldn’t afford the risk, no matter how hot the chemistry between her and Sandor.

  She’d bent the rules once already in her life, and it had cost her everything. It had taken her years to restore her self-esteem and professional pride. They could justify their decision to assassinate Coop’s killer, convincing themselves that they’d been the only ones capable of taking the monster out. But how soon would they find another monster, and another and another? Where would they draw the line?

  She stood up. “Sandor, thank you; dinner was delicious. Now if you all will excuse me, I think it’s best I leave.”

  She made it to the front door before he caught up with her, a set of keys in his hand.

  “I don’t need a chauffeur,” she informed him when he followed her to the street.

  “Well, you’ve got one.”

  He sounded thoroughly pissed. Good. It would make it easier for her to walk away, which she had every intention of doing. But when she turned to head down the street, he blocked her way.

  “Stop it, Sandor. I want to leave—alone. You do not want to try to stop me.” She gave him a shove with the palm of her hand. It was like pushing a boulder—a very stubborn, angry boulder.

  “I brought you here; I’ll take you back. I commandeered Ranulf’s Packard.” He nodded toward the cream-colored convertible. “Get in.”

  “Oh, and I so love taking orders from autocratic jerks!” She spun and headed the other way, even though it was the wrong direction. Circling the block would be a small price to pay to get away from him.

  In a quick maneuver, he was back in front of her. “And I so love dealing with shortsighted, judgmental brats!”

  A neighbor across the street was unabashedly enjoying the spectacle. She shot him a nasty look and demanded, “What are you looking at?”

  He quickly disappeared back inside his house.

  Sandor looked disgusted. “Real nice, Lena. Do you make it a habit of being rude to people?”

  That hurt. So what if she struck out when she felt cornered and scared? And she was definitely scared—of the Kyth, of Sandor, and worse yet, her reaction to him every time he got near her. Once again their tempers were running high, and all she could think about was kissing him.

  “Fine. Take me back to the hotel.”

  He walked around the front of the car and got in. When he turned the key, the huge engine purred. It didn’t take long to realize that they weren’t headed for her hotel.

  “Where are you taking me? Turn around! My hotel is back that way.”

  He kept driving straight. “You promised to patrol with me tonight.”

  As he slowed for a stoplight, he shot her a smug look. “I assumed that someone who was so high and mighty about obeying the law would also be a woman of her word. Pardon me if I was mistaken. So which is it: patrol with me, or slink back to your hotel?”

  Her hand itched to smack the snarky smile off his face, but she had more control than that. Barely.

  “Fine. I’ll patrol for a couple of hours, as promised. Then you can drop me off at the door of my hotel.”

  Sandor wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what she was telling him, and he didn’t like it. Too bad. They both knew what would happen if she weakened and let herself get behind locked doors with him. And that wasn’t going to happen again.

  Even if it killed her.

  Chapter 12

  Sandor stopped midblock and looked up and down the street, tension rolling off him in waves.

  “How am I supposed to find a renegade when there’s no pattern to his attacks?”

  Lena understood his frustration. Cases that hit a dead end were the bane of every investigator’s existence. She’d had her own fair share of files that had turned cold when the leads failed to pan out. Every one of those failures rankled, but she’d learned the hard way to let them go and move on. If she had it to do over again, she would have preferred to figure out that particular lesson without innocent people dying. Knowing their target was going to strike again only made it worse.

  “Let’s get a cup of coffee,” she suggested.

  Sandor let her lead him to one of the coffee shops found on almost every corner in Seattle. He opted to wait outside while she went in. Since they hadn’t quite finished dinner before she’d left, she was a bit hungry, and added a couple of sweet rolls to the order. While she waited, she watched him through the front window of the shop.

  Sandor was the handsomest man she’d ever known, much less dated. With dark hair and those even darker eyes, he could easily pass for a male model. But she’d always thought those men were merely pretty faces, worth only a passing glance.

  There was so much more depth to Sandor. Sure, he could be charming enough when he wanted to be. And God knows he wore clothes well—and nothing at all, even better. Alpha males were common in her line of work, but the powerful confidence Sandor wore like a second skin made them pale in comparison. He was a warrior through and through, and she really liked that about him.

  Probably way more than she should. A little hot sex was one thing, but the emotional connection she was feeling for him was a complication neither of them needed. She lived on the East Coast; he lived on the West. She was human; he wasn’t. He’d killed for his Dame; she wished he hadn’t.

  “Ma’am, your order is ready.”

  Lena realized it wasn’t the first time the woman had tried to get her attention. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where my mind was.”

  The woman grinned and nodded in the direction of the window. “I wouldn’t be thinking about coffee, either, if I had someone who looked like that waiting for me.”

  Back outside, Sandor took his cup and started walking again. He’d been pretty quiet ever since he’d bullied her into the Packard and driven her downtown. Granted, he was focused on hunting down the Kyth renegade, but there was more to his silence than that. He kept watching her out of the corner of his eye and frowning whenever he didn’t think she’d notice.

  She steered them toward a bench down the street. Most of the nearby businesses were closed for the night, so it was unlikely they’d be bothered by anyone passing by.

  After they sat down, she handed Sandor his sweet roll. “You’re awfully quiet. Got something on your mind?”

  The question jerked him back from wherever his mind had wandered off to. His dark eyes focused on her with an uncomfortable intensity that made her wish she hadn’t rattled his cage.

  “You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”

  That snarky attitude was back in full force, but two could play at that game. “Lose the attitude, buster. If I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t have asked.”

  Too fast for her to track, he grabbed her hand. A burst of fire burned up her arm from where their skin connected. The sensation was more uncomfortable than painful, but she knew better than to try to break free.

  When he realized she wasn’t going to fight him, he eased back on his grip but still held on.

  “So you want to talk about attitude? What about yours? You insult my Dame, you insult my people, and you look at me and Ranulf like we’re little better than animals. You do not know what it is like for us, yet you feel entitled to judge us. How comfortable is it, sitting up there on that high horse?”

  Okay, maybe he had a point, but she had a few of her own. “You’re right. Maybe I don’t understand what it’s like to belong to the Kyth. You’ve always known there were others like you, people who share those spooky talents you’re so
proud of. But I grew up with my own special ability and no one to share it with.”

  His eyebrows drew together in a slight frown. “Yeah, that had to be hard.”

  His sympathy felt genuine, but after years of secrecy and denial, it was hard to know how to react. “I managed to get by on my own.”

  He gave her hand a squeeze. As he did, her skin tingled and buzzed. The sensation was odd, but pleasant.

  “You’re definitely a puzzle, Lena—especially in the effect you have on me.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve been living in a fog since this whole mess with Bradan. Before that, I trusted him implicitly and thought Ranulf was poised on the precipice of madness. I ended up executing Bradan and becoming friends with the Viking.”

  “Sounds like you made the right decision in the end.” She hesitated. “Well, except for executing the murdering bastard, instead of turning him over to the authorities to stand trial.”

  Sandor’s eyes immediately flashed hot with those golden sparks. “It’s a done deal, Lena, and nothing is going to change that.”

  “I know, I know.” It was important for her to make him understand. “But at least you and Kerry and Ranulf will always have the satisfaction of knowing the bad guy paid the ultimate price for what he did. I’m glad he died for what he did, too.

  “But we four are the only ones who are ever going to know that. We’ll have a sense of closure, but think of Coop’s family, his coworkers, his friends. They all think that Bradan not only got away with killing Coop, but he’s still out there planning his next attack. They’ll always wonder who’s going to die next.”

  “Okay, you have a valid point.” Sandor leaned back and stared up at the sky. “But my first loyalty is to my people. I’ve sworn to protect them, regardless of the cost. That’s the way it’s always been for the Kyth, and for good reason.”

  “Times change, Sandor. No one will accept the Kyth as benign if it ever comes out that you operate as if you’re above or outside the law.”

  “Which is why we can’t afford for anyone to find out about us.”

  So now they were coming to the heart of his problem: her. She now knew enough about the Kyth to bring the wrath of humanity raining down on their heads. From their point of view, there was only one logical conclusion as to what to do next. The whole idea made her hurt.

  “When are you going to use your special whammy powers on me again, Sandor? Or will it be Kerry who fixes my memories this time?” She leaned her head against his shoulder, drawing what comfort she could from his strength. “Will I remember anything about you at all? Because I really hate the idea of forgetting everything we’ve shared.”

  “I gave you my word we wouldn’t mess with your mind, Lena, and I meant—”

  Sandor abruptly let go of her hand and stood up, his attention riveted on something down the block. He was watching the mouth of an alley on the other side of the street.

  Lena didn’t spot anything out of the ordinary. “What did you see?”

  “We might have hit it lucky. Come on, but act casual. There may be someone keeping lookout up the street.”

  As they made their way to the corner he kept his arm draped around her shoulders, giving the impression of just another couple out for a late evening stroll. When the light changed, they crossed the street and turned in the direction of the alley.

  She could feel the thrill of the hunt thrumming through his entire body, though she doubted if anyone else would have picked up on it. She kept scanning the street for anyone being a little too observant, but no one stuck out of the crowd.

  Sandor waited until they passed the mouth of the alley before he leaned down as if to kiss her cheek. “Up on the corner on the left. That girl can’t keep her eyes off the alley. Watch her. Every time she looks up and down the street as if she’s waiting for someone, her eyes go right back to the alley.”

  Lena stepped in front of him, halting their progress. She ran the palms of her hands up Sandor’s chest. “So what’s the plan? Do you want to go after the girl while I check out the alley?”

  “Other way around. You’re not armed and I am. I don’t want you walking in blind and unable to protect yourself. From everything we’ve learned, this renegade is pretty powerful.”

  “Fair enough. Shall I kiss you good-bye?”

  His eyes sparkled with heat. “Honey, you can kiss me anytime, anyplace.”

  She took him at his word, loving the slide of his tongue over hers as the kiss went from sweet to heat in a single breath. When they finally broke off the kiss, she had to rest her forehead against his chest to gather her scattered thoughts.

  “You pack quite a punch.” And she wanted much more of it. “We’ll pick up where we left off later.”

  Sandor gave her another quick kiss. “That’s a deal.”

  She started up the street while he turned back the other way. She knew the instant he ducked into the alley, because her target instantly looked distressed and unsure of what to do next. Lena headed straight for her.

  Before she could reach the end of the block, the young woman’s cell phone rang. As soon as she answered it, she snapped it back shut and took off. By the time Lena reached the corner, her target was out of sight. There were any number of shops and office buildings where she could be hiding. Lena decided to wait a few minutes in hopes the woman reappeared. Failing that, she’d track down Sandor and hope he’d had better luck.

  She stopped to admire the window display of a vintage clothing store. A beaded purse drew her eye, but more importantly, the window reflected the street behind her, allowing her to keep watch without being obvious. And unless she was mistaken, her target had reappeared, this time on the opposite corner. Lena eased out of the recessed doorway, not wanting to make any sudden movements that would draw unnecessary attention to herself.

  Sure enough, the woman had once again positioned herself where she had a clear view of the alley. Looking worried, she stared down the street. Who or what was she looking for?

  Lena’s own sense of unease was growing, too. Where was Sandor? Surely he’d had time to check out the alley by now. If he didn’t reappear soon, she’d hunt him down.

  Then the woman’s demeanor changed. She went from worried to relieved as a young teenager quickly crossed the street to join her. They carried on an animated conversation for several seconds, with the boy shrugging and gesturing back toward the alley. The woman, who on closer examination was probably still a teenager herself, clearly wasn’t happy with whatever he had to say. Then they suddenly ran half a block north.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out where they were headed. One of the big articulated buses that cruised Seattle streets had just rolled into sight. With her quarry about to make their getaway, Lena was torn between the need to find out where they were headed and learning what had happened to Sandor.

  When she heard sirens headed in her direction, it was no contest. Had Sandor stumbled across another mugging victim? Or had he been the victim this time? She noted the bus’s route number, then charged to her lover’s rescue.

  “Lie still, sir. Help is on the way.” Sandor injected a calming note in his voice.

  The older gentleman nodded, then groaned from the pain of that small motion. A thin stream of blood trickled down the side of his face. Sandor held the man’s handkerchief against the small wound to stanch the bleeding. The need to chase down the kid responsible for the attack was riding him hard, but he couldn’t very well abandon the wounded victim the young renegade had left bleeding in the alley.

  The sirens were definitely growing louder. Sandor also heard the sound of a woman’s footsteps coming down the alley. He’d wondered how long it would take Lena to come looking for him. He wanted her to stick with her half of the hunt long enough to learn where the renegades went to ground, but he couldn’t blame her for choosing to follow him. It was exactly what he would have done in her place. Partners watched out for each other.

  When Lena spotted hi
m, the relief in her eyes made him far happier than it should have.

  “This feels a bit too familiar,” she said with a slight smile.

  “Yeah, déjà vu sucks big-time.”

  He removed the handkerchief to see if the bleeding had finally stopped. The old man blinked up at Sandor in the gathering darkness, suddenly growing more agitated. He tried to sit up but wasn’t strong enough to do so.

  “That boy! He took my wallet! Do you see it anywhere?”

  “I’ll look around to see if he might have dropped it,” Lena assured him. She checked the ground nearby and then in ever widening circles. Sandor kept his fingers crossed. Although the perp was known to steal money, he often left the actual wallet with credit cards and things behind.

  Sure enough, about thirty feet away she spotted something lying near a pile of trash. There was little hope that the police would get usable prints off the wallet, but he noticed she used a tissue to pick it up anyway. Maybe they should have left it where it was, but if it would help calm the injured man, too damn bad if the police didn’t like it. He’d take the heat.

  “I have it, sir,” Lena told him. “How much money did you have in it?”

  “About thirty dollars maybe, but that’s not important. It’s the pictures I’m worried about.”

  Lena opened the wallet. She held it open to show Sandor the cash was gone, but there was a picture of a couple with their arms around each other and smiling at the camera, vintage World War II.

  “You and your wife make a handsome couple, sir.” Sandor smiled.

  “Please call me George, young man.”

  He finally succeeded in sitting up with Sandor’s help, and Lena handed him back his wallet.

  “My Mabel was a real beauty, right up until I lost her last year.”