r of fear, a hint of a bluff. He found nothing. Only a chilling

Carlyle's body tensed again, every muscle screaming with pain and adrenalin

s hot, ragged breath gh

down on hers. It wasn't a kiss of passion, but an act of r

crackled in her eyes. This wasn't seduction; it was a viola

to the alley, illuminating

lled, his voice rough with impatience. "D

g in her wet hair, holding her fast. He pressed her more firmly against the wall, a

ined rage, but she made no sound,

moved on. "Waste of time. Let's check the next block

all beside her, gasping for air. A weak, triumphant smirk

back of her glove, her movements slow and deliberate, as if scrubbi

rted to push himsel

he'd instinctively relaxed-and pivoted. It was a precis

oed in the narrow c

ny. A strangled grunt escaped his lips as a fresh wave of pain

r expression unchanged. She looked at his now

patch on his abdomen. "Now, for the bullet

ing with a strange, burgeoning admiration. The girl's strength, her speed, her sheer ruthlessness-it was beyond anyth

oat and produced a compact, professional-grade first aid kit. She tor

't experienced in years: a complete loss of control. Using his one good hand, he fumbled with the

absolute, as if they were in a sterile operating theater and not a filthy, rain-soaked alley. Her touc

the intense concentration in her eyes. In the dim

ng up, her voice flat. "I'm just patching you

a pressure dressing with practiced efficiency. "Thi

, then turned to leave, her pa

t, his voice straine

he alley, a silhouette against

your bu

s gone, swallow