Black and Blue (34 page)

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Authors: Gena Showalter

BOOK: Black and Blue
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O
NCE SOLO ARRIVED, THINGS
moved quickly.

Well, except for the one-on-one the guy insisted on having with Blue.

He pulled Blue into a hallway and said, “I knew there was something there, but I didn’t know it was serious. Evangeline Black? Blue, you can do better.”

“There’s
no one
better.” She was top of the line. Grade A. And she was falling deeper and deeper in love with him. He’d never let her take back those words. They’d rocked his world.

“You couldn’t scratch your itch with someone else?” Solo persisted.

“It’s not an itch,” he replied flatly. “It’s forever.”

“So, what, you’re going to marry the devil’s favorite handmaiden now?”

Blue barely stopped himself from throwing a punch.
This is your friend. You love him.
“Watch how you talk about her, my man, or we will have problems. How would you feel if I insulted Vika that way?”

“I’d have to kill you.” Shamefaced, Solo patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry. If you like Evie, that’s good
enough for me. I will never treat her with anything other than respect.”

“Thank you.”

“No need for that. Your happiness matters to me.”

“I’ll
never
be happy without her.” Evie was wonderful. The way she stood up to her dad. The way she defended Blue and confessed her feelings. He’d never seen anything like it, and doubted he ever would again.

She accepted him. All of him. Past, present. Future.

He’d always hated being called a slut and a whore, and he’d always told himself that he did what he did for the job, that it was okay. To discover that Michael viewed him through the ugly veil of judgment . . . yeah, that hurt. But Evie hadn’t backed down.

“All right,” she said now, checking the scope on a pyre-rifle as he and Solo returned to the kitchen. “Are we ready to do this? I call dibs on the guys in the photos with Mr. Cooper’s pregnant girlfriend.”

Beautiful, savage female.

Solo had spoken to Tyrese Cooper’s wife, and with a little . . . persuasion she’d admitted to paying Star to abduct and hurt the mistress. The mistress had since been found, alive, and returned to Mr. Cooper. All three had a long, dark road to navigate.

“More than ready.” Once upon a time, Blue had refused to admit Evie was the type of woman he’d wanted. The type he
needed
. But she was. And he wouldn’t change a single thing about her. “But I don’t want you rushing into a massive free-for-all, princess.”

“Duh,” she said. “I seriously suck at fighting more
than one angry dude at a time. As I’ve proven. I’ll be more help on a hill, picking off the idiots foolish enough to step within my sights.”

That’s my girl.
“Let’s go, then,” Blue said.

They gathered all the weapons they could carry. Waiting for dark would give Star more time to hide. Or prepare.

They would take him, then his son, then his daughter.

In the car, Solo claimed the driver’s seat, Blue the passenger, and Evie the back. No one spoke a word the entire drive, but that was okay. He knew that they were all thinking the same thing. No mercy.

About a mile from the gate, they dropped Evie off. Before she could clear the vehicle, Blue reached through the open window, grabbed her by the nape, pulled her close, and kissed her hard.

“Be careful,” he whispered against her lips.

“No probs.” Her gaze was grim. “But you, too. I mean it, Blue. You have no idea the fury I’ll unleash on you if you allow yourself to get hurt.”

“Get hurt, and delay our snugs time? No.” He gave her another kiss before letting her go.

Leaving her was tough. He had to force himself to nod to Solo. The otherworlder drilled the pedal into the floorboard and zoomed to the gate blocking the public road from the private driveway. They emerged. As cameras watched their every move, Blue set a small bomb on the left side and Solo set one at the right.

They turned their backs, and
boom!

The charge was small enough, and isolated enough, that he felt only a whoosh of white-hot air along his
back and a slight burn on his neck and arms. As pieces of metal sprayed over the ground, he and Solo climbed inside the car and sped forward.

Armed guards rushed from the house, but Solo didn’t slow. He’d taken control of the vehicle and disabled every sensor, allowing him to run into one man, then another. As they tumbled over the hood and screamed, the other males jumped out of the way.

When he reached the porch steps, he slammed the car through the front door. Bricks and other debris flew in every direction. Blue palmed his weapons as he got out. Moving faster than any gaze could track, he wove through the guards, shooting one, stabbing another. Shooting, stabbing. Grunts and groans sounded. Bodies fell to the ground, never to get up again.

He and Solo left no survivors.

They stomped inside the estate, alert, scanning for Star senior as well as any soldiers who might be lurking nearby. Blue’s gaze caught the barrel of a pyre-gun peeking from around the corner of the far wall. He motioned to Solo, then launched forward, whizzing around, secretly closing in on the man.

A stream of yellow light sprayed at the other warrior. The fry setting, rather than stun. Solo dodged, but not quite swiftly enough. His arm was grazed by one of the flames.

Blue reached his target a second later and shot him in the temple.

“The others are running outside,” Solo called. “Either they’re afraid of us or they know something we don’t.”

An angry voice spilled from an intercom system. “They know something you don’t.”

Star.

While Solo searched for the reason the men had run, Blue ground his teeth and sought out the camera. There had to be one, and it had to be—there! In the corner, beside the entrance to the office. He glared into the lens. “You got something to say?”

“If you haven’t already guessed,” Star said, “I’m not there.”

“Too bad.”

“I thought we reached an understanding, Mr. Blue.”

“We did. You tried to kill me and my woman, and I struck back.”

A low growl echoed over the airwaves. “You murdered an entire contingent of my men and destroyed my home. Aren’t you afraid of what I’ll do to your friend?”

“Yes. But you should know, anything you do to John, I’ll do to you. Twice.”

“I do not appreciate threats, Mr. Blue.”

Using his most insulting tone, Blue said, “I don’t make threats, Mr. Star. I make promises.”

“Bomb,” Solo suddenly shouted. “Two minutes.”

Blue leapt into action, moving to Solo’s side and tugging him outside. They were at the gate by the time detonation occurred, but it was still a strong enough blast to knock them off their feet.

Blue was thrown into one of the fake trees, hitting with so much force he knocked the entire thing to the ground. A sharp sting in his side made him look down. A piece of metal protruded from his stomach.

Blood and his Arcadian power were hemorrhaging from him, draining him fast. He used what he could to lumber to his feet and check on Solo. The agent’s cheek was badly cut, and crimson smeared the lower half of his face, but he was steady, unwavering.

“We need to leave before the authorities arrive,” Solo said, even as sirens echoed in the background. “Or before Star sends more men.”

Their car was in pieces, so they hoofed it deeper into the trees. Then, two yards before they reached the road, a group of Star’s men stepped from behind the trunks, surrounding them—aiming pyre-guns.

*  *  *

Evie squeezed the trigger.

Pop!

Turned, aimed through the scope. Squeezed the trigger.

Pop!

Turned, aimed through the scope. Squeezed the trigger.

Pop!

Every time the
pop
sounded, another guard dropped—and very little was left of his head. Star’s men soon figured out that anyone who dared raise a weapon against the Arcadian died.

Can’t look at Blue. Can’t run to Blue. Not yet.

If she looked, she would cry. That spike . . .

If she ran, she would give the enemy time to reach him.

The remaining men fired at the agents. Bright yellow
lights erupted. Pretty. Like a display of fireworks. Blue and Solo managed to dodge, but Blue lost his footing and fell. He landed with a hard thump, the spike sinking deeper. He grimaced—and stayed down.

Dang it. She’d looked. And she was already crying.

With a roar, Solo collided with one of the males, and the two thudded to the ground.

His body expanded several inches. His skin took on a crimson glow. Spikes grew from the tips of his ears, and claws sprouted from his nails. Just then, he was a monster feared by other monsters, and yet the guards didn’t run screaming.

As she picked off another of Star’s men, she wondered if they were all under compulsion to stay and destroy. That would explain a lot. And it was possible. Star employed many different alien races, including Arcadians.

She peered through her scope, but the men were now being careful to remain in a state of constant motion. She could still hit a target, but it would take more time.

Pop!

Another went down. Only five more to go.

Solo disarmed one with his claws. A hand went flying—without an arm. Blood sprayed.

Four more to go.

Blue got to his feet, wavered. “Evangeline,” he shouted. “Your three.”

Understanding, she swept her gun to the right. A male had gotten down on one knee to aim a grenade launcher in her direction. She nailed him between the eyes, but it was too late. The rocket had been released.
She fell to the ground, hands over her head to act as a small measure of protection. Only, the blast never came.

Brow furrowed, she straightened and scanned her surroundings. Blue had caught the fist-size missile with his power. As she watched, he sent the thing high in the sky. There was an explosion of fire and smoke. Blue collapsed, spent.

Solo moved to his side and stood sentry, daring the three remaining men to approach. Evie steadied her rifle.
Keep it together.
One by one, as the males circled the pair, closing in, she introduced them to the grave.

Draping the weapon over her shoulder, she ran. Finally ran, screaming, “Blue! Just hang on. I’ll patch you up, I swear I will.”

When she reached his side, she dropped to her knees. His skin was pale. His lips were a scary light blue, doing justice to his name.

He offered her a weak smile—there was blood on his teeth. “Saved me . . . you, warrior princess . . . me, soldier in distress . . . storybook . . .” The rambling stopped as his head lolled to the side—and he died.

*  *  *

“Michael!” Evie shouted. “Help!”

Heart thundering in her chest, she rushed down the hall, clearing the way for Solo, who held an unconscious Blue in his arms. She managed to revive him on the drive over, but he crashed three more times. If she didn’t get him stabilized, she was going to lose him for good.

Vika appeared in a doorway and gasped when she saw the bloody trio.

“In here,” Evie said to Solo, barreling into her bedroom. They’d called Michael during the drive and told him to meet them at a safe house she used for medical emergencies. “Put him on the bed, and be gentle.”

The steel pipe lodged between the slabs of muscle in his stomach had sunk so deep it now poked out the other side.

The moment he was settled, she leapt into action, gathering the supplies she would need. She might not be prepared to deal with massive burns, but this . . . this she could handle.

Keep. It. Together.

Michael raced into the room.

“You’re going to assist me,” she said, her voice calm despite her raging emotions. “The rod has to come out, but I can’t remove it and stop the bleeding at the same time.”

“I’ve done triage,” her father replied. “I can do this. I won’t let you down.”

In the bathroom, she scrubbed up as best she could. She was trembling, and that wasn’t good. She could do more damage to him . . . to Blue . . . her Blue.

Deep breath in . . . out . . . Okay. Yes. I’m capable. Cutting into people is practically my superpower.
Her nerves began to steady as her adrenaline kicked in and her confidence revved back up.

Blue would come out of this. No other outcome was acceptable.

*  *  *

Blue cracked open eyelids that felt as dry and rough as sandpaper. A strange beep sounded in his ears.
Wherever he was, the lights were dimmed. His side ached.

“Hey,” a soft voice said.

Evie.

The beeping quickened.

It had to be monitoring his heart rate, because the muscle careened out of control at the first indication that she was nearby.

She came into view, leaning over him, his own personal angel. Long, dark hair fell over her shoulder, curling at the end. Those big, brown eyes that dominated her face were filled with worry and relief. The heart-shaped lips he loved to kiss were . . . slightly blue? Why? Then his gaze snagged on the angry mark marring her pale skin, and he could focus on nothing else.

“Your poor cheek, baby,” he said, reaching up. The tendons in his shoulder protested painfully, and he grimaced, but that didn’t stop him from running his fingers across the wide bruise. “What happened?”

“You were in another explosion,” Evie said. “A piece of metal tubing perforated your side, but we got it out. You lost a lot of blood, but don’t worry, we didn’t give you a transfusion. I remembered what you said.” She smoothed her hands over his forehead.

“I didn’t mean me. What happened to you?”

“Oh. Your power came back in a burst and knocked me across the room.”

“What?” A sharp pain lanced through his middle. “What?” he asked more gently. “I did this?”

“You had no idea what was going on, so I’m not
going to hold a grudge. Seriously. Don’t worry. I promise I’ll only remind you of the pain I suffered on holidays and anniversaries.”

She made light of it, and he wanted to hug her for it, but he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to forgive himself. “I’m sorry, princess.”

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