The guy under her shot out a hand and nailed the gun, sending it flying into the far wall.
Damn it. Lex punched him hard in the nose, satisfied with the loud crunch.
He bellowed and blasted a right cross into her cheek. Pain exploded in her face, and her vision wavered.
Not moving, not gaining any extra leverage, the guy grabbed her waist and threw her over his head.
She crashed through the apartment, her arms flailing, and smashed into the refrigerator. Her right shoulder took most of the impact, and agony ripped down her arm. She landed hard, and glass from the broken window pierced her legs.
Blinking, she used the dented fridge to haul herself to her feet. Shards of glass cut her toes.
The guy by the door went down, and Kellach stood there, fury on his angled face.
The man who’d thrown her stood and faced him. “What the fuck is an enforcer doing here?” he muttered. Fire instantly shot out from him, huge balls of blazing death thrown with a pitcher’s aim. His weapon was hidden by his long coat. Kellach ducked and plowed forward in a hard tackle.
The first man rolled to his side, took in the scene, leapfrogged at Lex, and shoved her into the counter. Pain flared along her back.
She yelled and brought both elbows down on his nape.
He roared and straightened up, lifting her into the air. She struggled, kicking and hitting, trying for a good angle at his still covered nose. He jabbed a needle into her arm and depressed the plunger.
Instant sedation slid through her skin, muscles, and maybe bone. Her head swam.
Damn it. What had he given her?
Holding her tight, turning, he charged through the damaged window, boots clanking on the fire escape and scattering her potted plants. Drawing in a breath, he leaped over the railing and landed on the awning of the restaurant below.
She screamed as wind and rain beat her skin. Her elbow connected with his throat, and he yelped. Taking advantage, drawing deep, she shoved two fingers near his eyes.
He dropped her.
She bounced, scrambling across the awning almost in slow motion, trying to find purchase so as not to fall. The drug slowed her movements, and she tried to clear her head.
He turned and fell on his belly, holding on to the ripped material, swung his legs over, and then disappeared from sight. The sound of running footsteps echoed through the storm.
She slid across water and glass to peer over the side, two stories below. Nothing. He was gone.
She blinked water from her eyes as rain soaked her thin tank top. Her gun was inside, as was Kellach and the other gunman. Gingerly, trying not to be cut, she tried to crawl on the awning back toward the building before she passed out.
An oscillating blue ball of fire careened outside and dropped next to her. Fire licked her palm.
She screamed and tried to scramble away from the fire. The ball burned a hole in the awning and kept going right through. Shit. The whole thing would go up. She rolled to the other side, hoping she could grab hold and jump. She’d probably break something in the fall, but that was better than burning to death.
“Alexandra?” Kellach bellowed from the window.
She looked up in time to see him illuminated from behind as fire hit him. Flames cascaded out around him, his eyes widened, and then his body was propelled outside.
If he hit the awning, he’d keep going. She tried to swing her legs over the side and out of the way, but the drugs in her system slowed her down.
Kellach ducked in a summersault, landed next to her, and grabbed her up.
She cried out and shoved against him.
Two more spins in the air, and somehow, they landed safely on the pavement below. She blinked up through the rain at his rough face, cradled in arms harder than granite.
“W-what?” she stuttered.
He gazed at her face. “How badly are you hurt?”
“Dunno.” Her mind fuzzed. How were they standing on the street?
He strode over to her car and yanked open the door, shoving her to the passenger side. “Keys?”
“Upstairs.” She couldn’t catch a thought, or a breath. Liquid dropped into her eyes. Frowning, she wiped her forehead and looked at her hand. Blood. “I’m bleeding.”
He grasped her chin and turned her to face him. “Just hold on. You’ll be okay.”
Those were the last words she heard before darkness grabbed her, took her under, and covered her.
Kellach stood in the doorway, his gaze on the too-quiet woman on his massive bed. It wasn’t how he’d dreamed of her sharing a night with him. He’d administered to her cuts, washing each one clean and covering the two largest with a bandage. Her hand had been burned, and he’d placed an ointment on it while she remained out from a sedative.
He’d tasted the remaining drops after recovering the syringe, and it was just a normal sedative. Whoever had broken into her apartment had meant to subdue her and maybe take her.
Her heartbeat had remained steady, and her breathing solid. She’d be fine once she woke from the sedative.
She blinked and her eyes opened.
Finally.
Her entire body stilled, and she stopped breathing.
“Alexandra.” He kept his voice smooth and commanding. “You’re all right.”
She sat up. A couple blinks, and those stunning blue eyes focused on him. “Where the hell am I?”
“My flat.”
She looked down at the blue silk shirt he’d gently placed over her head. “You undressed me?”
“Your clothes were wet, and believe me, that shirt covers a lot more of you than I’d like.” He kept his stance relaxed and his voice nonthreatening, already sensing the emotions pouring from her. The tension he could handle, but the fear bothered him on a level he didn’t quite want to explore yet.
She glanced around carefully.
“I didn’t bring your gun.” He kept the smile from his face. “Although, after seeing you fight again, I’m not sure you need one.”
She reached up and fingered the butterfly bandage over her right eye. “You patched me up?”
“I did.”
“Why?” She focused on him again.
Why, indeed.
He couldn’t have left her there. No doubt, more witches would return. The one he’d fought had thrown fire like a master, and surely had backup.
Who the hell was that man? Kellach had lost him when trying to rescue Alexandra from falling. The witch wasn’t known to Kell, so he was probably just muscle for hire. Whoever wanted Alexandra or whatever she held knew enough about her to know she had enforcer protection, so they’d hired a witch. The guy had seemed shocked to be face to face with an enforcer, so apparently he hadn’t been given the full story. “I brought you home to protect you,” Kell said.
She growled and shoved the covers off her bare legs. “What did they inject me with?”
“Standard sedative. You should be fine.”
“I am.” She glanced around again. “I have to get back to my apartment. Bernie will be beside himself.”
“Bernie has no clue.” Kellach crossed his arms. If she thought she was going back to that war zone to face a species she didn’t even know existed, she was fucking crazy.
“Baloney.” She stood and wobbled slightly. “You’re telling me three men broke into a cop’s apartment, started a fire, burned the awning outside, and nobody called the cops?”
He sighed. “I sent my brothers to deal with anybody else who showed up.” Once the witch, whoever he was, saw two enforcers there without any humans to protect, the asshole would surely go the other way, no matter how much he’d been paid. “The awning and your apartment will be fixed before dawn arrives.”
The storm rolled outside, spattering wind and hard pellets of rain against the glass window. Seattle at its finest.
Alexandra shook her head. “What about the men who broke in?”
Regret slithered through him like a snake. “I couldn’t contain them and
save you, so I chose you.” He’d find the bastards, however. Then they’d regret harming her.
She shoved wet curls off her forehead.
“Why do you cut your hair so short?” he whispered, cocking his head to the side.
The blond mass was stunning, and if that curl was real, she’d look like a goddess with it long. Not that she didn’t look stunning and tough with it short.
She faltered, vulnerability darkening her eyes. “It’s easier to take care of short, and it’s harder to grab in a fight.”
“You shouldn’t be fighting.” He strode toward her to brush a finger over the bruise darkening her cheekbone. “You’re too delicate.” Too special.
She kept still, allowing him to touch her. “I don’t understand you.”
“Aye.” How could she? She didn’t know a damn thing about him. “Who were those men at your apartment?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. They were looking for something that somebody left me, but they wouldn’t say what or who. If you ask me, they had their wires crossed.”
Kell nodded. He’d know soon enough. Daire and Adam were searching her apartment top to bottom while ensuring the proper repairs were made.
“I saw the first guy throw fire at you, but I couldn’t see the weapon since I was behind him.” She lifted her head to meet his gaze directly in the darkened room. “Tell me about the weapon.”
He sighed. By law, he couldn’t tell her the truth. But she was too damn smart to keep lying to about a nonexistent weapon.
“I don’t know how it works, but the weapon somehow takes plasma, forms a ball, and fires it at the victim.” Well, it was kind of true. Throw in a witch species, a thorough understanding of quantum physics and genetic gifts . . . and one could throw plasma balls of fire.
“You had one of the weapons the first night in the alley,” she murmured.
“Yes.” He’d forgotten he’d thrown fire that night. “I sent the weapon to my people in Ireland to take apart and study.” He had to quit lying to her, damn it.
She shook her head. “Are you supplying these weapons?”
“No.” His agreement was to supply AK-47s and semiautomatic weapons to Pyro and Fire, but he had yet to give weapons to the criminals.
“What about the drugs?” she asked.
“I’m trying to find out about the drugs the same as you are,” Kell said, finally giving her the truth. “I promise you, give you my solid word as a Dunne and an enforcer, I do not know who’s making the drug. I will find out.”
She blinked. Her nostrils flared. She tried to step back, but the bed held her in place.
He knew the second her fear turned to something else. To awareness. Even desire.
A pretty flush wandered up over her face. “Did you kill Duck?”
“No.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip, and he stared, entranced. “Again on my word, I didn’t kill Duck, nor do I know who did. Yet.”
She breathed out, warming his thumb. “Duck was killed by an Apollo overdose.”
“Aye. I heard.” Lust blared through him, hardening his muscles, slamming an ache to his groin. “Alexandra.” He drew out each syllable, enjoying the feel on his tongue. “In my shirt, and in my bed.”
She nudged her head back, and his hand fell away. “I don’t know you.”
“No.” He stepped into her and cupped her face, tilting her head back. “But you have excellent instincts. I can see from your eyes, and I’ve watched you in the field surrounded by guns and fire. Look into my eyes. Did I kill Duck?”
Her nostrils flared, and her chest moved under his shirt in a sharp inhale. Her stare delved deep; impressively so. Finally, her facial muscles relaxed. “I don’t think you’d waste your time killing Duck.”
An unerringly true statement. More heat speared through him. The woman was intriguing with a side of deliciousness, and just being near her tingled awareness in his nerves. “You’re right.”
She held his stare, a brave woman half his size. “But you’ve killed.”
His head lifted. He’d been a warrior for more than three centuries and lived through two immortal wars. Plus, he was an enforcer for the Coven Nine. “Aye. I’ve killed.”
She frowned. “You’re a soldier.”
“Aye.” He didn’t have to tell her with whom.
“With whom?” she asked.
He smiled, his fingers extending around to knead her neck. “Not your people, darlin’.”
“Why are you here, Kellach?” she breathed, her gaze dropping to his mouth.
He could give her that much. “I’m on assignment to find out about the drugs.”
“Why?” she asked.
Regret tightened his hold slightly. “I can no’ tell you that, but I can promise we’re working to end the drug’s production. To take it completely out of existence once I find the source.”
“That’s not good enough.”
Facing him, so brave, she provided a temptation he hadn’t felt in decades. Maybe longer than decades.
“It has to be.” He gave in to temptation and lowered his head, brushing his mouth across hers. Sweet. So damn fucking sweet. Knowing better, he began to move back, when she grabbed his chest and hauled him closer, her mouth working under his.
A roaring echoed through his head, and he was lost.
Chapter 12
The second his lips touched hers, Lex forgot the case. Hell, she forgot everything.
His mouth overtook hers, firm and hot. He kissed her deep, his large hands holding her head in place, all fire and passion. She moaned deep in her throat, and his chest vibrated against her as if he fought to hold himself back.
He’d saved her life, and that meant something to her. She was so damn tired of fighting and of being alone. For once, she just wanted to feel.
One broad hand released her head and caressed down her spine to pull her into that hard body. Flush against him, she could feel every defined ridge, every powerful muscle. Her abdomen flared awake, and her sex softened. Even being held so tightly, she levered up on her wounded toes to kiss him deeper, to rub against him. Her nipples hardened to sharp points, and she rubbed them against his chest.
A growl lumbered up from him.
Heat somehow cascaded off him, hotter than normal.
He angled an arm around her waist and lifted her, his mouth releasing hers to nip along the side of her jaw to her ear. He bit gently, and a mini-explosion rocketed through her, pinpointed right at her sex. She slid her hands through that silky hair and wrapped her legs around his waist.
The hand at her nape turned, cupped her scalp, and drew back her head, firm and controlling in a way that dampened her panties.
His eyes had turned darker than midnight, and desire flushed deep under his cut cheekbones. “Alexandra.”
She panted out air. “What?”
“Are you sure?”
She liked that. A lot. Liked that he’d asked the question, when her body was on fire, and it’d be easy to get lost in passion. Unreal, combustible passion. “This is such a mistake.” She half-laughed and half-moaned the statement.
“Aye.” His eyes glittered, and he held them both still. “If you’re gonna make a mistake, make it a good one.”
A motto she’d always lived by, actually. She released his hair to slide her hands down over his chest, her fingers digging in. She purred, enjoying the perfection that was Kellach Dunne. “How are you even real?” she murmured.
His gaze softened. “I’ve lived lifetimes, Alexandra, and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman this much.”
Lifetimes? Yeah. Definitely a soldier who’d seen too much—enough to feel old in his thirties.
She smiled. He wasn’t exactly wounded, but definitely seasoned. Maybe even cynical, and that feminine part of her, deep down that didn’t make much sense, wanted to ease him. To provide a soft place to land and show him wonder. How long ago had he lost that?
She’d thought she’d lost it as well . . . until now. Until being held b
y a man with power and gentleness. If she had a hundred years, she’d probably not be able to plumb the depths of Kell. But they didn’t have that time. They had now and now only. Either he was lying and she’d end up shooting or arresting him, or he’d succeed in his mission and return to his home across the globe.
“I hope you’re the good guy in this,” she whispered. Yeah, she might need a little more reassurance.
He clasped a hand over his heart. “I’m not a good guy, but I’m not the criminal you seek. On my word, I’m working with you to take the drug off the street.”
“And the weapons?”
“If I find another man-made weapon that shoots plasma fire, I’ll hand it over to you instead of sending it to my people.”
Odd wording. What other weapon could there be? But she believed him, or at least, she wanted to. He’d saved her life, not once, but twice. If he was truly working against her, he wouldn’t have saved her.
Her body vibrated with so much need, her brain just wanted to shut down so she could feel. “What the hell.” She softened against him, her lips tipping.
She expected a grin or some sort of triumph to glimmer in his eyes. What she got was pure intent and male satisfaction. Enough to make her insides quiver.
He gently pushed the shirt off her shoulder, and his lips enclosed her flesh. He bit. Not hard, but with enough snap to send an electric shock zapping to her abdomen. She gasped and writhed against him. His muscles shifted, and she landed on her feet. Their gazes remained connected, and he ripped open her shirt, scattering buttons across the room. The torn material followed.
The air washed over her bare skin, and she shivered. Doubt crept in. The man was perfection and had probably been with a lot of women. She was short, hardly busty, and bruised. It had been at least a year since she’d taken the time to be with a man. And Kellach Dunne was all man.
He cupped her chin. “Second thoughts?”
She swallowed. “No.”
“Good.” His hands caressed over her shoulders to cover her breasts. “Absolutely exquisite.”
The compliment bolstered her, and she reached for the hem of his T-shirt to pull it over his head. He ducked his head to help her. An intricate tattoo wound over his left shoulder and partially down his arm. A myriad of complex, Celtic lines with a barely discernible C9E combined in the middle. She fingered the jagged edges. “Beautiful.”