by Opal Carew
An image flashed through her brain of bright blonde hair and icy blue eyes. A smile that came quickly and honestly.
“I’m Cat,” she repeated, but mewled with fear as he took another step toward her.
He recognized her distress and paused with his approach.
“You’re hurt. I want to help you, Cat.”
I’m hurt, she repeated in her brain and finally permitted herself to recognize the agony in her shoulder. A deep burn combined with a pulling pain whenever she moved. Wooziness when she tried to walk.
“He shot me,” she said, dragging the words from untrustworthy memory.
“Yes, you’ve been shot, Cat,” he said, the tones of his voice surprisingly kindhearted as he took another half step toward her. “I will help you,” he added with a conviction that penetrated the last remnants of her fear.
“Okay.”
Mick heard the word come from what he suspected was Caterina Shaw, although the only things which seemed arguably human were her intense blue eyes and her hesitant voice. It was as if she was a young child searching for the right words to say. Unaware of who she was.
What she was, he thought and heard her whisper, “Focus.”
Focus? he wondered, but immediately realized what she was attempting to do and joined in.
“That’s it, Cat. Focus.”
Her head dipped down in what he suspected to be a nod and then in gradual stages, all that indistinct gray faded and was replaced by the pale tones of human skin.
He controlled his reaction to jump away at the unbelievable change, taking a moment to examine her. He had no doubt she was Caterina Shaw although she was paler and thinner than in the photo he had been given. Her hair was the same deep ebony, but tangled, with bits of leaves and dirt caught in the thick curls. A purpling bruise marred one cheekbone, as if she had been recently struck.
Someone had hurt her, but that’s not my problem, he thought as he reminded himself of why he was here.
He had an assignment to complete.
He had to return her to Wardwell’s labs.
But then she pulled her fingers out of the brick wall and held out her bloodstained hand to him once again. Repeated her earlier plea.
“Help me.”
He almost wished she had attacked him instead. Gone into one of those rages warned about in her medical history.
He could deal with violence. He considered himself a master in how to respond and protect himself and his men.
Sympathy and compassion? Normally not within his skill set and yet that’s exactly what was needed here.
Fuck.
Chapter 6
Mick raised his gun hand and she flinched as he did so, obviously assuming he intended to use force.
“Easy, Cat. I’m just putting it away. See,” he said, held the Glock loosely before her, and then tucked it into his waistband beside the gun he had taken from Franklin’s man.
Slipping off his jacket, he took the last step to stand before her as she leaned precariously against the wall, the effects of her blood loss taking a toll on her.
“I’m going to put the jacket over your shoulders to keep you warm. Do you understand?”
A bobble-headed nod confirmed it and he moved quickly, helping her slip into his lightweight leather coat to both provide warmth and hide the weird luminescent blood from prying eyes. His car was only blocks away, but he doubted she had the strength to make it that far. Hopefully she could make it out onto the street where they could hail a cab.
Aware that any sudden movement might frighten her, he once again explained his actions.
“I’m going to put my arm around your waist. You can put yours around mine to help you walk out of here.”
He didn’t wait for her consent, fearful that each passing second created the risk of discovery. Easing his arm around her waist, he experienced the fragility of her body beneath his hand.
Caterina was way too thin and it made him wonder just how Wells and Edwards had been treating her while in their care. She mimicked his actions, wrapping her arm around his waist, her grip surprisingly strong.
Turning her away from the stairway leading up to where he had left Franklin’s man, he urged her down the hall, keeping his pace measured since her every woozy step warned of her weakness. Her body trembled beneath his hand and he admired the effort she was making to keep up with him.
At the next set of stairs, he paused, uncertain she could make it up even with his assistance and fearing how slow their progress had been so far.
Meeting her gaze, he noticed that she was struggling to hold onto consciousness. He cupped her jaw with his hand and she jerked back even though his touch had been gentle.
“I’m going to carry you up the stairs and to the exit. You need to stay awake because I’ll need your help once we’re on the street.”
Another wobbly nod of her head confirmed her understanding, but he worried for a moment if he was reading too much into her actions. Even animals seemed to nod on occasion, prompting him to consider that there might not be much left of Caterina’s brain. He tamped down the odd sense of loss that brought and bent, eased his arm beneath her knees, and swung her up into his arms.
With his carrying her, the trip up the stairs and to the back door where he had entered was much faster. As he exited into the back alley, he peered into the darkness, but detected no other presence there. Lucky so far, he thought as he eased her upright once again.
He took a step toward the mouth of the alley and she stumbled, but he urged her on. “Come on, Cat. I know you can do this.”
She straightened beside him and tightened her hold on him.
“I’m trying,” she said in a pained exhale as she took a step and he moved with her.
Together they made it to the curb and luck did seem to be with him since an empty cab made the turn off Broad. He hailed the cab and it pulled up in front of them. The cabbie rolled down his window and said, “Lady had too much to drink?”
Perfect, he thought.
“Way too much. We need to go to South and 11th.”
“Hop in,” the cabbie said and popped the locks on the car.
Mick eased her into the back seat and climbed right in beside her. He had barely closed the door behind him when the cabbie peeled away and with a few sharp turns, they were headed down South Street.
Mick counted the blocks and the minutes, shooting an occasional look back to see if they were being followed.
They weren’t.
Caterina’s head sagged forward as her body collapsed against him and his gaze collided with the cabbie’s in the rear view mirror.
“She’d better not yak in my cab, mister,” he warned.
“She won’t.” He tucked her head close in case she decided to go all camo on him again.
She murmured an indistinct protest and released a warm sigh that bathed his skin. A human breath with a slight chemical smell warning that she might be in some stage of ketosis, possibly due to a lack of nourishment.
Anger rose up in him once more as he considered the treatment she might have been receiving in the Wardwell labs. Had such treatment caused the rage that had made her attack? he thought as he kept a firm, but non-threatening hold on her.
It took only a few more minutes before the cab reached their destination and he played up the role of a solicitous date.
“Come on, babe. Time to head home,” he said as he handed the cabbie a twenty and slid to the door, pulling her along with him.
He opened the door and with all his strength, extracted her from the car and as her feet hit the ground, she roused. Her body tensed, clearly ready for flight mode until her gaze lifted to his. Then calm settled on her features, unsettling him.
Mick hadn’t expected any kind of trust so quickly.
I’m not quite sure I deserve it, he thought as he bundled her over to his Jeep.
With little wasted motion he had her in his SUV and buckled in. Once within the car, however, he took a moment t
o peel away the one shoulder of his jacket to examine her wound.
Still bleeding, but substantially less than before. The wound even appeared more healed than it had at the Music Academy. Enough that he could transport her without worry on that count, although her condition troubled him for a number of other reasons.
First, the “Is she human?” question.
Second, there was no exit wound which meant the bullet and any stray bits of cloth were still in her body. Both could cause more serious physical complications if they weren’t removed.
A hospital was out of the question.
So was his office/apartment and any of the regular contacts he used for medical emergencies which he wanted to keep private. With Caterina in her current state, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t morph before a stranger. Plus, Franklin was too familiar with all of those places and would be sure to come after him there if his old friend was that intent on securing the reward for bringing in Caterina.
Mick couldn’t risk either of those two things which left only one choice.
With a last quick tug on Caterina’s seat belt to make sure she was secure, he retrieved his cell phone from his jacket pocket and speed-dialed the number.
His sister immediately picked up. “Hey, big bro. What can I do for my long lost brother?”
It had only been a month since his last attendance at a family gathering, but he knew that for Liliana, a month was far too long to be without family.
“I need a big favor, Lil,” he said and shot a look at Caterina as she slumped against the side passenger door.
“You name it,” Liliana said easily. Family always came first with his little sister.
“Meet me at the shore house. I’ll be there in about an hour and a half. Bring your medical bag.”
A heavy sigh came across the line.
“I should have known a call at this ungodly hour wasn’t because you missed me.”
Damn. His sister had sure learned the guilt trip well from their mom.
“You should know by now how much I love you, Lil, but if you don’t want to help, I’ll understand.”
“You’re my brother. Of course I’ll help.”
A rare smile broke out across his face. “I knew I could count on you.”
“Always, Miguelito,” she said, using his boyhood nickname as she usually did when she wanted to annoy him.
Little sisters, he thought, his smile broadening as he turned his full attention back to the road and the drive home.
Home. He contained the pang of longing at that thought.
Home was not a place for a man like him. He didn’t deserve that kind of life when he had been responsible for others never making it to their homes.
Hands tightening on the wheel, he shot a quick look at his target. From what he had gathered in his investigations so far, Caterina had also known little of a home life.
Mother dead at an early age. A cold and distant father who had not approved of her.
With the exception of Elizabeth, most of the people with whom he had spoken had been more acquaintances and business contacts than real friends.
Could she count on them the way he relied on his family? Did they bring her the same sense of joy and belonging?
He suspected not and reminded himself of his one objective – return Caterina to Edwards. But as he shot a quick look at his target once again, the niggling voice inside his head warned that he needed to do more while the voice of the realist warned, “You can’t be everybody’s hero.”
Chapter 7
At that hour of the night, the trip across the Ben Franklin Bridge was quick. The roads through New Jersey and up to Bradley Beach were free of any kind of volume, but not completely deserted. Even in this part of the state there was always a fair amount of activity from cars and trucks which tonight was both good and bad.
Bad because it made any kind of tail harder to notice.
Good because it also gave him a way to get lost in case there was a tail.
Mick had been vigilant for the first twenty miles or so, always checking the rear view mirror for any telltale signs that he had been made. The roads had been clear of any suspicious vehicles and it had remained that way for the entire trip.
Occasionally he checked on his passenger, who had barely moved in all that time.
Caterina was battered, hurt, and possibly undernourished.
Exhausted judging from the nearly blue-black circles beneath her eyes illuminated by the bursts of light from a passing car or street light.
He let her rest, hoping that with rest would come some greater mental clarity than what she had displayed at the Music Academy. Of course, maybe that was all that was left of her brain after the tumor and treatments.
Once again, he didn’t know why that possibility upset him.
Maybe it was because of the woman he had come to know through his investigations. The determined, but pleasant and intelligent woman who had not let anything get in her way.
Not even a life-threatening illness.
Not even the good doctors Wells and Edwards.
He wondered what they would make of her condition. Whether they would find it routine or if they would even care?
Edwards certainly had seemed more worried about how his partner’s murder would hurt the business rather than his violent death.
A death caused by the woman beside him, the voice of the mercenary cautioned, reminding him that emotion could play no role in the job he had been hired to do.
Up ahead on the road was his exit off the parkway and once again he paid careful attention to the cars around and behind him as he pulled onto a smaller county road. For the few miles on that thoroughfare there were barely any cars, making it extremely easy to see if someone was following.
No one was.
Relief filled him that the existence of his home – a temporary safe house for tonight – remained unknown for the moment. Neither his old friend Franklin nor any of his other current associates knew the whereabouts of it. The deed was recorded in the name of a business he had set up, lessening any connection to him. That made it a good location for dealing with Caterina for the moment, although he didn’t like the idea of bringing work to his home and near his family.
He had always tried to keep his business life away from his family life. Caterina would be the first business he had ever brought home. For that matter, he had never brought another woman to this house. Caterina was also a first in that category and under different conditions, he suspected that might have been a good thing given all that he had learned about her so far.
The turn off from the county road to the side streets came quickly and barely a few miles later he was pulling into the driveway for the large old colonial located a little more than a block away from the ocean.
He pushed the button on his visor for the garage and the door rumbled open, the sound low enough that he hoped none of his neighbors would hear at this fairly late hour. He drove into the garage and then shut the door behind him.
With the car in the garage, his neighbors and others would be less likely to notice he was back.
For good measure, he flipped the switch he had installed by the door into the house to disable the remote open. Entering his home, he punched in the code to shut off the security system and returned to the Jeep for his captive.
Caterina didn’t rouse as he lifted her from the SUV, carried her into the house and up the stairs to the larger of the two guest bedrooms.
After laying her on the bed, he rushed back down to close up the Jeep and the house. He was about to enable the security system once more when he caught a glimpse of headlights on the street in front of the house.
A second later his sister pulled up in her dependably boring mid-sized sedan. An old person’s car, but then again, his sister had an old soul. Luckily for him, a reliable old soul.
He walked to the door and opened it, and as her face brightened with a wide smile as she saw him, he felt the smile erupt on his ow
n face.
She hurried up the cement walk, medical bag in hand, and embraced him tightly at the door.
“Missed you, bro,” she said as she buried her head into the middle of his chest.
“Missed you, too, sis,” he replied as he hugged her petite body tight to his.
When Liliana stepped away, she inspected him up and down with motherly concern, but sisterly sarcasm in her tone. “You’re not hurt?”
“I have a ... guest upstairs. She – “
“She?” his sister said, one brow flying upward with interest as she pushed past him, wasting not a second in her quest to discover the identity of his female visitor.
Mick chased after her, wanting to warn her about Caterina’s rather unusual abilities, but he was relieved to see that his guest was still conked out in much the same position that he had left her earlier.
Liliana stopped by the side of the bed, perusing Caterina before she turned an accusing eye in his direction.
“Please tell me you’re not responsible for the bruises.” She flicked her hand at the obvious damage to Caterina’s face.
He raised his hands in surrender, although he was slightly annoyed that his sister didn’t know better than to ask such a question. “Found her after she’d been hurt. She’s been shot as well. I’m sure the bullet’s still in her shoulder.”
He joined Liliana by the edge of the bed, gently removed his jacket from Caterina, and tossed it to the side to reveal the bullet wound. Caterina murmured another soft protest as he moved her, but otherwise did not stir.
With the jacket gone, the odd iridescent blood splotch was fully visible as it stained the shirt surrounding the injury to her shoulder.
An injury that seemed even smaller than when he had inspected it in Philly.
Liliana bent to peer at the wound and then reached for the bedside lamp, removed the shade and turned up the bulb as high as it could go.
“What’s with the glowing green paint?” Liliana asked even as she placed her physician’s bag on the nightstand and removed a pair of surgical scissors.
