Now You See Him(72)

He didn't even glance at her. All his attention was focused on the man holding her. The hand digging into her arm was sweaty, and the gun trembled against her temple. He might very well kill her by accident if Michael wasn't careful.

"What kind of bargain?" Michael asked in a voice that bordered on indifference.

"You want the lady?"

"I want the lady." It was spoken softly, but Francey felt a chill slide down her backbone.

"Then you'll have to bargain. I want your car. I want you to put the gun down. And I want you to step back while I drive away. I'll leave her safe and sound in the next town."

Michael smiled. "Don't waste my time, Dex. Let her go."

"In the next town. Or I swear I'll blow her brains out right now."

"And then I'll kill you."

"I don't mind dying for the cause," he said nervously. "I just don't like losing."

"Too bad," Michael said gently. "You're going to do both."

Dex was shivering behind her, and cold sweat was soaking through his clothes, through hers. Francey didn't move, couldn't move as she watched with numb fascination. Dex held the gun, the hostage. And he was terrified of the man confronting them. So terrified that he was bound to make a lethal mistake. Yet she felt only a passing interest in whether her life was going to be forfeit in that mistake.

"I'll give you the girl," Dex said hoarsely. "Here and now. You let me take the car, get the hell out of here…"

"No."

"I'll disappear. No one will have to know…"

"The Cadre will find you," Michael said. "You know they will. And you know how they deal with traitors."

"I'm not a traitor!" Dex said desperately. "I just know when the odds are against me. Cougar, let me go."

"Let the woman go."

She could feel his indecision. The gun at her temple wavered for a moment, but a moment was long enough.

Dex fell backward, his sweaty hands slipping from her, and a second later she heard a whine and pop, the delayed report from Michael's gun. She stared down at the man at her feet, the pool of blood.

"You killed him," she said in a harsh whisper. "He was going to let me go. He was starting to release me…"

"He was about to shove you at me and then shoot us both." Michael was cool and matter-of-fact. "Get in the car and let's get the hell out of here."

"He might not be dead…" She started to lean down, to touch Dex's fallen body, when Michael crossed the space that separated them and hauled her upright.

"He's dead. Trust me. Now get in the car."

"I'm not going anywhere with a murderer." The moment the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. His face was cool, handsome, absolutely expressionless. For a moment she wondered whether he would hurt her. And then she knew he wouldn't. No matter what he'd done, what crimes he'd committed, why he did what he did, one thing had been constant. He'd been trying to help her.

"Get in the car," he said again from between clenched teeth. "Or I swear to God I'll knock you over the head and drag you there."

So much for not hurting her. She moved stiffly, her body radiating outrage and indignation. "I'll get in the car," she said, "because I have no other way of getting to Daniel. But I don't want to have to talk with you, look at you, or have anything to do with you."

"You'll get in the car because I'm not giving you any other option. I imagine the driver's long gone, but that doesn't mean he won't be back. There's nothing I'd like better than to find some nice quiet jail cell and put you back there until this blows over, but I don't think I have that option. So get in the damned car and stop arguing."

Francey got in the car.

He climbed in beside her, and he seemed huge, overpowering, in the cramped space as he put his gun on the seat between them. It smelled of smoke and what she imagined was cordite, and it was lethal, black and ugly.

He glanced over at her, huddled by the door. "Put on your seat belt."

It was suddenly too much. "I've been kidnapped, shot at, nearly raped, imprisoned, bombed, had my car sabotaged, and you tell me to put on my seat belt? Why don't you give me a lecture about safe sex while you're at it?"

Only by a slight stiffening in his shoulders could she see that her barb had hit home. Ignoring her, he reached over and yanked the seat belt across her lap. "Do me a favor," he said softly. "Keep your mouth shut or I'll gag you."

She almost told him to try it. But some last-minute wisdom stopped her. He was a man who was more than capable of doing just that. He'd just killed two men—why would he balk at a little bondage? Ignoring him, she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes, willing the inner trembling to subside. Daniel would make things better. She just needed to hold on till Michael brought her to the hospital, then disappeared into whatever fantasy he was living out. Surely she could keep herself together that long.