THE FIRST SIN (31 page)

Instead of going for me, he dove for where the gun had slid. “Slimy coward.” I bolted after him. “An injured five-footfour woman with a cast too much for you?”

I flung myself on his back in my version of a petite woman tackling an almost-six-foot man just as he almost touched the gun.

He went down on his chest with a thud and a shout. Cabot’s fingers hit the Sig hard enough that the gun moved a few inches from his fingers.

Before he could move, I slammed my cast against the back of his head and my opposite hand against his jaw. The satisfaction of the connection of my knuckles against skin and bone could only last so long.

Damn. That blow with the cast should have knocked him out.

Cabot tried to shove me off as he went for the Sig.

I did him one better.

I played leapfrog off his back and propelled myself toward the gun.

My hands hit the handgun too hard. The Sig skidded straight under the edge of the St. Andrew’s cross’s platform. “Cabot!” Danny shouted from the doorway as I rolled away from Cabot. “It’s a raid. We’ve got to get you out of here.”

A raid! RED was here! It had to be.

Cabot took one moment to look at me. A former prize that he now wanted to destroy.

Before he made up his mind on what he was going to do, I dove for cover.

Pain spiked the shoulder that had been dislocated as I landed behind a metal spanking bench with cabinet drawers beneath it.

Should protect me from bullets. No way to grab me fast and easy.

And I had the distinct impression they were in a hurry. My cast slipped a little as I maneuvered enough to see them around the corner of the bench.

“Come on!” Danny yelled at Cabot. “The bitch isn’t that important” For one brief moment, Cabot’s gaze met mine. His face was bruised and bloody. The stain on his belly was growing. “There will be a next time. And I’ll blow your goddamned brains all over Boston.”

“Language, Cabot.” I smiled, just to piss him off. Maybe hold him back so the good guys would get to us in time. “And watch your cliches. You’re full of them.” Danny grabbed Cabot’s arm and jerked him from the room right as Cabot started toward me.

Cabot let Danny hurry him out the door.

Damned if I was going to let him escape. Gun within reach. I pushed myself toward the Sig under the St. Andrew’s cross.

My grip was solid as I grasped it in my left hand.

I scrambled to my feet and bolted across the room.

The door shut behind them.

A distinct click echoed through the room. “No way.” I reached the door and jerked the handle. About fifteen times. “Oh, no way!” I shouted at all the unfortunately inanimate dungeon equipment.

I aimed the Sig at the lock. Two shots and it was history. “Come back, you slimy coward, Benjamin Cabot,” I shouted as I rushed out.

And stumbled into a group of men all dressed in black. All carrying very illegal guns. Wearing ski masks. And not wearing standard RED raid gear.

Uh . . . crap?

A man shoved his way through the group. Before I knew what had happened, his big arms enveloped me and he hugged me tight enough to just about crack my ribs again.

No need to see his face to know whose arms I was in. His scent alone told me it was Donovan. Nothing ever smelled so wonderful. Ever.

He lessened his grip on me just enough to push up his helmet and for me to look up at his intense features. “Goddamnit, Lexi,” he said, right before he kissed me.

“Ultimately a hero is a man who would argue with the gods, and so awakens devils to contest his vision.”

Norman Mailer (1923-2007)

April 21

Sunday. Seriously, who gives a crap when...

Where that man learned how to kiss, I’d like to know. I’d give whoever it was a trophy.

Melt? Me melting? His taste, his scent, the feel of his arms around me and his mouth moving over mine again—

Lexi Steele had never felt so safe, so cared for. With that one kiss a sense of strength and healing flowed through my body that made the nightmare at Cabot’s hand a brief blur. If only for that tiny moment in time.

My cast was pressed between our bodies, but I did wrap my good arm around his waist. So strong and sturdy. Something good after everything being so bad. When he finally raised his head, I wondered if I’d ever catch my breath.

“You can come to my rescue any time.” At least my mouth still worked.

He brushed my scraggly hair away from my cheek, which probably had smears of dried blood on it. “By the Sig in your hand and that battle cry, I bet you did a good job of just about nailing him yourself.”

“Oh!” Speaking of nailing. I raised my head and started to pull away from Donovan. “We’ve got to get—“ All those big men with the big guns were gone.

The guys must be Donovan’s “special, special” recovery specialists. From what I briefly got to see of them, they looked special, all right.

“My boys are already on Cabot’s tracks.” He brushed his lips over mine.

“Right now we need to get you out of here.” Okay. I could go for that.

Enough was enough.

I glanced down at the Sig, then met his eyes. “When your guys catch Cabot, I still get to rip his nuts off.” Donovan looked so sexy when the corner of his mouth quirked like he was trying to hold back a smile. I loved the way he did that. “I’ll give Cabot a two-second lead so you’ll have a little sport.”

I did smile. “I’m great with moving targets.” He shrugged out of his raid jacket and put it around my shoulders. It almost hit my knees. “I think it’s time to go home. After we get you checked out at RED’s infirmary.” Yeah.

Home. Where I’d scrub myself until my skin was raw.

He guided me along one of those long black hallways.

“Did you leave a trail of bread crumbs?” I asked.

“Probably should have.”

But it was only moments before we walked out of the building, Donovan with his arms around my shoulders like he was supporting me. Or caring for me.

The cheers that rose up to meet us just about knocked me silly. “Steele is back,” “Knew she’d kick ass.” “Never had a doubt.”

Damnit. I didn’t choke up over mushy stuff. Agent after agent slapped me on the back and some even dared to hug the unhuggable Lexi Steele. Okay, so I’d let them get away with it.

April 22

Monday afternoon

“This couch is heaven “ I told Donovan as my body sank into the comfortable cushions.

“How are you feeling?” He sat in the chair closest to the couch.

“My arm itches like crazy.” But the cast’s plaster was fresh and new and bright white. “I am so friggin’ glad to be home,” I said. “Staying overnight and then the whole friggin’ day today in RED’s infirmary was about to drive me out of my mind.” It would have been even better to be in my own home at the trip, but I had to admit that having someone take care of me while I healed would be nice. Especially when that someone was Donovan.

He frowned. “You should have stayed longer. One night and one day isn’t enough.”

“But then I’d miss all the mind-exploding sex,” I said with the naughtiest grin I could muster.

“No sex for you until you’re better.” He leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs. “And don’t try begging. It’s not going to work.” His expression was only half serious, but I knew the serious side planned to keep me from tackling him. Oh, yeah?

“If Oxford hadn’t insisted that I stay in the freaking infirmary, we could already be having wild monkey sex,” I said. I swear Donovan almost laughed. “Wild monkey sex, huh?”

“But oh, no,” I said with a good dose of sarcasm. “She even made me debrief with the nut crew today. At least the therapist was a chick in slacks instead of some cigar-smoking freak with a beard. Not that I’ll be talking to the psycho-logist again. I’ll do my ‘therapy’ with my Glock.” Donovan’s mouth was lifting at the corner. I was almost getting a smile out of him! “I’m still stuck on the monkey sex part,” he said.

The big oaf had hung around the infirmary to make sure I didn’t leave before I was officially released. He limped a little from the bullet wound, but because the bullet had gone through soft tissue in his thigh, not muscle or bone, he said he was down to being sore.

Georgina had come to see me today, and it had been so good to see her bossy self.

“Bet Zane raised hell when he found out I’d been kidnapped and no one had told him.” I shifted my cast on my belly. “He sure looked like he was holding back when he stopped by to see me.”

Donovan shook his head. “Yeah. I’d say he was pretty pissed nobody had notified him.”

I could just picture Zane losing it. “I bet the ‘it’s part of the job’ rhetoric didn’t go over real well with him. Or ‘you’re in a different department,’ and ‘it was a highly secretive op.’”

“Uh, yeah;’ Donovan said. “Zane wasn’t a good boy when it came to talking to Oxford. She threatened to get him fired from RED, and to kick his butt out the door, personally.” I snorted. “She could do it, too. Both.”

“I believe it.”

“But now I’m back.” Back from hell to the insane life that I loved.

The sigh that left me was pure relief that I was out of that place where Cabot had held me prisoner, and that I wasn’t being drugged every day. I tilted my head against the couch and closed my eyes.

And frowned. Tension made my temples ache.

“What’s wrong, Steele?”

I opened my eyes and looked at Donovan. “That bastard escaped, that’s what.” No one knew where Cabot had gone, or how he’d gotten away.

Donovan rubbed his jaw, looking both pissed and tired. “We thought we had everything covered, but the sonofabitch managed to pull one up on us again.”

“The best part,” I said, “is that Alyona and two other girls were rescued before the next auction.”

The seriousness in Donovan’s eyes mesmerized me. “The best part was finding you.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

Donovan didn’t give me a chance, anyway. “I’m going to check on dinner. It’s just about ready.”

Donovan’s expression and his words stayed in my mind as I heard a few noises coming from the kitchen.

I closed my eyes again, and images of more girls being auctioned off started rolling through my mind, just like they had been every time I was alone.

What if Cabot had other girls he’d already kidnapped, kept in different areas before the next auction?

Picture the good, Steele. Not the bad. For now.

Before you have to face every last demon.

The demons that still haunt your dreams every night. Forget demons. Drink in that heavenly smell rolling from the kitchen.

Mmmm. Food. Real food. Prepared by the best cook I’d ever met.

And the best lay I’d ever had.

While Donovan stayed in my infirmary room he had brushed his lips over mine. No deep, coma-inducing kisses. . My arm was healing just fine beneath that lovely new cast. As much punishment as my ribs had taken, I was surprised that they weren’t worse, too. But the doc said they weren’t perfect but still perfectly okay. My face ached from bruises, thanks to Cabot’s fists, but I wasn’t about to complain. As far as the tattoo of the Devil’s initials—I’d get that taken care of as soon as possible. Even if the doctor said they couldn’t be lasered away . . . I’d figure something out. For now I kept them hidden behind a huge gauze bandage that was behind enough waterproof first-aid tape that I could leave it on while I showered.

I didn’t want to see Cabot’s brand. I didn’t want to acknowledge it. As soon as my flesh healed where he’d cut me, I’d take care of it. Somehow. Right now the flesh had been sliced too deep and the ink injected just as far. The small things in my life seemed even more important now, and I wanted them back.

What I wouldn’t give to head to Foley with Marty and the other guys, and hit a few out of the park. And kick back on my own couch, drinking Guinness with Georgina and naming all the attributes of the hottest agents at RED.

Seemed like just about every agent RED hired was hot. A requirement, I’d lay bets. But most of all, my mind traveled to the bigger, more important things. Being with my family again. Mammy, Daddy, my sister, and my brothers.

Zane was the only one in my family who knew what had happened, and it would stay that way.

I glanced at my cast and wondered how long I should wait before I went to see them. With Cabot still out there, I couldn’t put my family in danger. From the crazed look in Cabot’s eyes when Danny dragged him from the room, I knew Cabot might try to find me.

Donovan entered Kristin’s living room carrying a tray, and I breathed deep and couldn’t help a smile. Despite the number of missions I’d been on, I’d never appreciated the good things in life so much as I did after this experience. Like real food.

He set the tray on the coffee table. Two plates piled with roast beef, baked potatoes, fresh corn—off the cob—warm cornbread, and a couple of bottles of Guinness. The sigh that left me was one of pure pleasure. “You’re worth having around, Donovan,” I said as he set up a wooden TV tray table in front of me, so that I wouldn’t have to try to hold my plate with my cast while eating. I’d bet he went out and bought the tray before I came home from the infirmary. Donovan sat maybe a foot away from me on the couch and picked up his own plate. “How’d the debriefing go?” he asked as I was letting a piece of the most incredible cornbread melt in my mouth.

The cornbread nearly caught in my throat as I swallowed. “Honestly?” I studied my plate and punched the baked potato with my fork. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was serious, and I met his eyes. “I shouldn’t have asked you now.”

“It’s okay.” I gripped my fork tight as he held my gaze. He had the most beautiful blue eyes that made a twisty sensation in my belly. The good kind of twist. “Sooner or later I have to talk about it.” I groaned. “And they actually think I’ll be spilling my guts to that shrink they assigned me to.”

“That’s a good thing, Steele.” He peppered his baked potato with a hand grinder. “You’re going to need to get it all out.”

“I guess,” I said, and he set the grinder down and looked at me again. “Have you ever seen a shrink for anything you’ve been through?”