Dr. Lang hadn’t screwed up after all.
Darwin shoved her toward the opposite wall, followed after her, the narrow, heated barrel of his pistol digging into her ribs.
“No escaping this time.” He leaned in, his breath warm on her cheek. “Wolf’ll die, while you watch. Then I get to decide what to do with you.”
She closed her eyes, fought the exhaustion, the grinding pain, with more anger. Darwin had threatened her one time too many. She wasn’t going to stand around while he destroyed the only man able to touch a heart that had refused every attempt, who cared enough to risk his life, his future, for a stranger―not John―not this time―
With strength dredged out of only God knew where she punched him in the stomach with her left fist, hard, methodical, in the moment. Her only thought, her only intent, was survival―just like she’d been taught in another life, another place. Darwin crumpled at her feet.
Maura pulled the lase pistol out of his hand, eased herself to the floor beside John.
“Maura―” His quiet, pain-scraped voice twisted her heart. “How—”
“A relentless teacher.” She dropped the pistol. “Sweet heaven, you’re bleeding again.”
“You have to―go―damn―”
He sucked in his breath when she touched his knee.
“God―hold still.” Hands shaking, she pressed down, blood leaking through her fingers. Equally shaking fingers caught hers, tried to pull them off his wound. “John, please let me―”
“You are―not safe here.”
“He’s right.”
She snatched up the lase pistol and aimed it. Celeste stood behind her, surrounded by half a dozen men. They reminded her of Anthony, their faces alive with curiosity, with life.
“I told you there were others.” Celeste directed two of the men toward Darwin. They picked him up and carried him down the corridor, out of sight. Then Celeste knelt beside her, held out her hand. With a sigh, Maura gave her the pistol. “We’ll take care of him now. It is time for you to go home, sweetheart.”
“I’m not―”
“Circumstances are about to change, lines drawn for a battle that’s been building for twenty years.” Celeste brushed her cheek. “You saved the one man who can bring about that change, and I will never be able to thank you enough for his life. But you can’t stay here.”
“Maura.” She turned to John. “Celeste is right. You must go. I would―see you safe.” He closed his eyes, and she panicked.
“Don’t you dare―John―”
His good hand found hers, closed over fingers too shaky to return the grip.
“Please, Maura.” Swallowing with visible effort, he opened his eyes. “Please go home.”
Her mind understood. Her heart flinched as if she’d been slapped.
She leaned in, pressed her lips to the scar bracketing the left side of his mouth.
“You saved me, John. In every possible way.” She laid her forehead against his, breathed in the familiar scent of him―musk, rain, warm skin. “Don’t forget me.”
He stilled under her.
Heart lurching, she pulled away, wanting to take the words back, to keep what lay between them an untainted memory―
The grip on her hand tightened. Startled, she looked down at him. Tears filmed his vivid, haunted eyes.
“Anthony taught me friendship. You, Maura,” he inched his hand up her arm, drew her closer, his whisper barely crossing the space between them. “You taught me love. I will not forget.”
She framed his face with both hands, careful of his battered cheek, and kissed him. Soft at first, then with more need as she understood this would be the last time she touched him, tasted him, felt the warmth of his breath, heard the quiet, accented lilt of his voice. By the time she released him they were both trembling.
The men with Celeste stepped forward. They surrounded John, moving Maura aside with such precision she didn’t realize until she knelt outside the huddled circle.
“They will take the best care of him. I promise you, Maura.”
Darwin shoved her toward the opposite wall, followed after her, the narrow, heated barrel of his pistol digging into her ribs.
“No escaping this time.” He leaned in, his breath warm on her cheek. “Wolf’ll die, while you watch. Then I get to decide what to do with you.”
She closed her eyes, fought the exhaustion, the grinding pain, with more anger. Darwin had threatened her one time too many. She wasn’t going to stand around while he destroyed the only man able to touch a heart that had refused every attempt, who cared enough to risk his life, his future, for a stranger―not John―not this time―
With strength dredged out of only God knew where she punched him in the stomach with her left fist, hard, methodical, in the moment. Her only thought, her only intent, was survival―just like she’d been taught in another life, another place. Darwin crumpled at her feet.
Maura pulled the lase pistol out of his hand, eased herself to the floor beside John.
“Maura―” His quiet, pain-scraped voice twisted her heart. “How—”
“A relentless teacher.” She dropped the pistol. “Sweet heaven, you’re bleeding again.”
“You have to―go―damn―”
He sucked in his breath when she touched his knee.
“God―hold still.” Hands shaking, she pressed down, blood leaking through her fingers. Equally shaking fingers caught hers, tried to pull them off his wound. “John, please let me―”
“You are―not safe here.”
“He’s right.”
She snatched up the lase pistol and aimed it. Celeste stood behind her, surrounded by half a dozen men. They reminded her of Anthony, their faces alive with curiosity, with life.
“I told you there were others.” Celeste directed two of the men toward Darwin. They picked him up and carried him down the corridor, out of sight. Then Celeste knelt beside her, held out her hand. With a sigh, Maura gave her the pistol. “We’ll take care of him now. It is time for you to go home, sweetheart.”
“I’m not―”
“Circumstances are about to change, lines drawn for a battle that’s been building for twenty years.” Celeste brushed her cheek. “You saved the one man who can bring about that change, and I will never be able to thank you enough for his life. But you can’t stay here.”
“Maura.” She turned to John. “Celeste is right. You must go. I would―see you safe.” He closed his eyes, and she panicked.
“Don’t you dare―John―”
His good hand found hers, closed over fingers too shaky to return the grip.
“Please, Maura.” Swallowing with visible effort, he opened his eyes. “Please go home.”
Her mind understood. Her heart flinched as if she’d been slapped.
She leaned in, pressed her lips to the scar bracketing the left side of his mouth.
“You saved me, John. In every possible way.” She laid her forehead against his, breathed in the familiar scent of him―musk, rain, warm skin. “Don’t forget me.”
He stilled under her.
Heart lurching, she pulled away, wanting to take the words back, to keep what lay between them an untainted memory―
The grip on her hand tightened. Startled, she looked down at him. Tears filmed his vivid, haunted eyes.
“Anthony taught me friendship. You, Maura,” he inched his hand up her arm, drew her closer, his whisper barely crossing the space between them. “You taught me love. I will not forget.”
She framed his face with both hands, careful of his battered cheek, and kissed him. Soft at first, then with more need as she understood this would be the last time she touched him, tasted him, felt the warmth of his breath, heard the quiet, accented lilt of his voice. By the time she released him they were both trembling.
The men with Celeste stepped forward. They surrounded John, moving Maura aside with such precision she didn’t realize until she knelt outside the huddled circle.
“They will take the best care of him. I promise you, Maura.”
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