Sins of the Flesh (6 page)

Sympathy and compassion? Normally not within his skill set. Yet that’s exactly what was needed here.

Fuck.

M
ick lifted up his gun hand and Caterina flinched as he did so, obviously assuming he intended to use force.

“Easy, Cat. I’m just putting it away. See.” He 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 one more step toward her, closing the distance between them. She leaned precariously against the wall, the effects of her blood loss taking a toll.

“I’m going to put my 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 assent, fearful that each passing second created the risk of discovery. Easing his arm around her waist, he sensed the fragility of her body beneath his hand.

Shaw was way too thin, and it made him wonder just how Wells and Edwards had been treating her while she was in their care. She mimicked his actions, wrapping her arm around his waist, her grip surprisingly strong against him.

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 spoke of 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 on to 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 thought brought and bent, eased his arm beneath her knees, and swung her up into his arms.

Carrying her, he found his 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. Luck seemed to be with him, since an empty cab made the turn off Broad. He picked up his hand and the cab pulled up to 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 Caterina into the backseat and climbed 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 rearview mirror.

“She’d better not yak in my cab, mister,” he warned.

“She won’t.” Mick tucked her head close in case she decided to go all camo on him again.

Caterina 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 brought about enough rage for her to attack? he considered as he kept a firm but nonthreatening hold on her.

It took only a few more minutes before the cab reached their destination and Mick played up the role of a solicitous date.

“Come on, love. 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. 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. He wasn’t quite sure he deserved it.

With little wasted motion he had her buckled into his SUV. Once within the car, however, he took a moment to peel away the shoulder of his jacket to examine her wound.

Still bleeding, but substantially less than before. The wound even appeared partially healed. At least enough that he could transport her without worry on that count, although now 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 were 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 if his old friend was that intent on securing the bounty for bringing in Caterina, he would be sure to come after Mick there.

Mick couldn’t risk either of those two scenarios, which left only one choice.

With a last quick tug on Caterina’s seat belt to ensure she was secure, he retrieved his cell phone from his jacket pocket and hit speed-dial.

His sister immediately picked up. “
Hola, hermano
. 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 thirty days too far removed from 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
mami
.

“You should know by now how much I love you, Lil, but if you don’t want to help—”

“You’re
mi hermano
. 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 thought, and contained the pang of longing.

Home was not the place for a man like him. He didn’t deserve that kind of life. Not 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 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 him that he needed to do more, while the voice of the realist warned, “You can’t be everybody’s hero.”

A
t 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.

Good because it gave him a way to get lost in case there was a tail.

Bad because it would make any kind of tail harder to notice.

Mick had been vigilant for the first twenty miles or so, always checking the rearview mirror for any telltale signs that he had been made. The roads had been clear of any suspicious vehicles and had remained so 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. She was also exhausted, judging from the nearly blue-black circles beneath her eyes, which were occasionally illuminated by the bursts of light from a streetlight or passing car.

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 impression of the woman he had pieced together 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 allegedly caused by the woman beside him, he cautioned himself. 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. He paid careful attention to the cars around 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 this home—a temporary safe house—remained unknown. Neither his old friend Franklin nor any of his current associates knew its whereabouts. 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 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 any 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 turnoff from the county road to the side streets came quickly. Barely a few miles later he was pulling into the driveway of the large old colonial located a little more than a block away from the ocean.