Home > Black and Blue (Otherworld Assassin #2)(47)

Black and Blue (Otherworld Assassin #2)(47)
Author: Gena Showalter

I don’t think so.

Evie aimed. Fired.

A stream of golden light arrowed to the back tire, and the vehicle slowed, stopped. That was the problem with preprogrammed systems. One little thing went wrong, and the entire vehicle shut down.

Evie closed the distance and jerked at the door. Locked. She aimed the gun at the window and said, “Open it and get out on your own, or I’ll open it and drag your bleeding carcass out.”

Wide, watery blue eyes stared at her for a long moment. Pagan’s gun rested on the passenger seat, but she didn’t reach for it. Her empty, trembling hands pushed the door out of the way.

“Slowly,” Evie commanded.

Pagan straightened at a snail’s pace, gripping the side of the door to remain standing as her knees knocked together.

Evie had once felt bad for this woman. And, okay, a part of her still did. But shooting Blue? Hell, no. That wasn’t allowed.

“D-don’t hurt me,” Pagan stuttered. “Please. I’m . . . pregnant. With Blue’s baby. Please, just let me go.”

Pregnant? Hardly. Blue was smarter than that. “Don’t be that girl. Now step away from the car, and drop to your knees.”

Tears falling in earnest, Pagan obeyed. Evie moved behind her, dug a pair of laser cuffs from her purse, and fastened them around her wrists. When Evie pressed the center, the cuffs lit up, bonding to Pagan’s skin. If she tried to break free, she’d lose her hands.

Evie helped her to her feet. A little push between her shoulders propelled her forward.

Blue hadn’t budged. He’d removed his shirt and strapped bandages over the wounds, but the cotton was already soaked in blood. Evie’s anger revved back up.

“Knees,” she commanded, forcing Pagan to the ground. Then she placed the barrel of the gun at the back of the girl’s head. “I wouldn’t try anything else, yeah. I’m already looking for an excuse to end you.”

A sob bubbled from the girl. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Blue. I didn’t mean to kill you, I just . . . I’m so sorry. I wanted you to hurt the way I’m hurting.”

“I know,” he said, and his gentle tone surprised Evie. “But you could spend the rest of your life in prison for this, Pagan.”

Her head bowed. Her body shuddered.

“Tell him what you told me,” Evie snapped.

“I’m . . . not,” the girl said, her shoulders hunching in. “I lied.”

“About?” Blue asked.

Evie met his gaze. “Pregnancy.”

His lips pressed into a thin, firm line.

“I’m sorry,” Pagan said again.

He sighed. “I’m going to let you go.”

“What?” the girl gasped.

“Yeah,” Evie said, baffled. Mercy from a hardened agent? “What?”

“Go home. Get some help. Don’t approach me again. Don’t approach Evie. You do, and I’ll consider you a threat and act accordingly.”

“Yes, yes.” A stream of rapid nods. “All right. I promise.”

He looked to Evie, his expression granite hard. “Release her.”

Though she wanted to argue, she removed the bands. Pagan drew her wrists to her chest and rubbed at the sensitized skin. “Thank you, Blue.” She stood, saying, “I’m sorry for what I did, I really am.”

“Go,” he said.

She didn’t have to be told twice. Off she scampered.

“Well, that was stupid,” Evie said, disappointed, relieved, and a thousand other conflicting emotions. “She’ll try again.”

“No. It’s out of her system. And besides that, it was deserved.”

Hello self-recrimination. “Blue—”

“No,” he said. “Don’t say it.”

“I will say it. What happened wasn’t deserved.”

He gave her a small smile. “Let’s go home and get these damn bullets out of me.”

“Fine. But this conversation isn’t over.”

Seventeen

EVIE WASN’T SURPRISED THAT Blue remained conscious during the drive. There was no man stronger. But she was concerned by the amount of blood he was losing, and the way he was staring straight ahead, his breathing choppy, his heartbeat too hard and too fast every time she checked.

“Distract me,” he said.

“How?”

“Talk to me. Tell me about your life.”

No way she could refuse. “Well . . . I tested out of school, and attended university at the age of thirteen. I majored in chemical engineering, my first love, but Mum made sure I took private classes on weapons technology and security.”

He frowned. “You were too young.”

“Yeah. Believe me, I know. Kids never let me forget. No friends, but lots of teasing.”

“No wonder you’re so guarded.”

“Guarded? Me?”

He snorted. “You know you are.”

Maybe. Okay, definitely. Letting people in was tough. Caring about someone other than yourself made you vulnerable. Left you wide open for all kinds of hurt. And if you lost a loved one? You would never be the same.

No pain no gain, though. Right?

Ugh. Stupid cliché. But, okay, she got the gist. Letting people in also came with great rewards. You’d have someone to rely on. Someone to protect your back. Someone to pick you up when you were down.

“How did you become a doctor?” he asked.

“Medicine was already in my wheelhouse. When I worked with people in drug trials, I realized I enjoyed the fruits of one-on-one contact, making individuals better. I switched my focus, and pharmacology became a hobby.” The NOW—New World Order—allowed students to dive into their chosen field without retaking subjects they’d mastered in high school. “However, I opted not to take a residency and instead came to the New States to be with Michael. He trained me for two years before sending me on that first fateful mission.”

“I knew you were young when you started working with him, but wow. Only twenty.”

“How old were you on your first mission?”

“Mission, twelve. Kill, fourteen.”

Blimey! “Now that’s bloody young.”

“Yeah, but I trained with Michael since the age of five. He’d found me on the streets and placed me with my human family. He paired me with John and Solo. He gave me a purpose.”

No wonder Blue loved her father so much.

No wonder her father loved him. They’d been together a long time. Relied on each other a long time. “I was jealous of you, you know. During our first meeting.”

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