Savage Hunger(71)

Rafferty stepped away to stand next to Warrick, and soon it was just Quinton who held the remote that would activate her memory wipe.

“Quinton, please.” She knew it was hopeless, but the words slipped out anyway. Resigned, weary as she met his gaze solidly.

Quinton opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. His gaze slid down to her neck, before jumping back up to her eyes. He stared at her long and hard, but she got the feeling it wasn’t her he was seeing.

The color slowly leached from his face and his hands that gripped the remote began to tremble. Suddenly he shook his head and thrust the remote into Rafferty’s hands, before stepping back.

“You get to do this one,” he muttered, his gaze averted from the other agents.

Rafferty stepped forward, no longer smirking with amusement, but suitably somber now.

Resignation took over, killing any shred of hope that remained, and leaving a heaviness that invaded every muscle in her body. The ache in her heart grew, consumed her. Sienna’s gaze slid to Warrick and she saw the frustration and pain flickering in his eyes.

I’ll never forget what happened between us. What you mean to me. It was a promise she had no control over. A vow that she knew had basically no chance of being kept.

Even though she hadn’t said the words aloud, Warrick seemed to hear them. His face suddenly contorted and he lurched forward with a roar. But the agents flanking him must have expected it, because they grabbed his arms and hauled him back. Restrained him from reaching her.

“Dammit, let her go,” Warrick shouted fiercely, struggling against the two agents. “She won’t breathe a word about what’s happened or the shifters. I’ll make sure of it.”

“And so will we.” Rafferty gave a soft sigh and shook his head. “I guess we should just get this over with.”

Memories raced through her head at light speed, slamming into her in a blur of color and action. The discovery of the shifters. The last few days in the safe house. Making love to Warrick. And they would all be gone in seconds.

“And here we go,” Rafferty muttered. “For the record, it was nice getting to know you, Sienna.”

She couldn’t even muster a bitter laugh in response. She was too frozen with a mix of horror and helplessness. Sienna watched in slow motion as Rafferty’s finger descended toward the black button on the remote. A small humming began and a tingle started at her temples where the triangles touched.

One last time, Sienna jerked her gaze back to Warrick. Her last conscious thought would be of him. It was the only thing she could control right now. Their gazes locked. Held. His face twisted again with rage and his muscles flexed.

“Goddammit, no!” Warrick roared, flinging Quinton and Hilliard off him and to the ground as if they were rag dolls.

Sienna watched him charge toward her, heart in her throat. Everything grew fuzzy. Her mind seemed to be swirling into some kind of vertical funnel cloud toward a black abyss.

If it hadn’t been for the sharp, sudden pain slicing through her cheek, she might not have noticed the window behind the agents exploding in a hail of glass and gunfire.





Chapter Sixteen

Shit!

Warrick launched himself the last few feet, tackling the chair Sienna was strapped to and knocking them both to the ground. The headpiece slipped from her head as he spun her away from the window, making sure her body wasn’t exposed to whomever outside was attacking them.

“What the fuck is going on?” Rafferty screamed, reaching for his weapon.

“The hell if I know.” Quinton already had his gun out and was crouched against the wall next to the blown-out window. “Return fire, agents. Donovan, get Sienna the hell out of here.”

As if he needed fucking permission, Warrick thought savagely as he ripped the straps free from Sienna’s body.

Bullets pinged around them, shattering lamps and making deceptively safe-sounding, muffled noises as they pierced the cushions on the couch.

Sienna fell free from the chair, her body almost a dead weight and her eyes half closed. Son of a bitch, had the memory wipe gone through? Blood trickled down her cheek where it looked like a piece of glass from the window was still embedded. Grinding his teeth together, knowing there wasn’t time to consider the possibility, he slid his hands beneath her armpits and, staying low, dragged her across the living room floor and into the hallway.

The sound of gunfire was still prominent, but the immediate danger seemed to be diminished. He sat down on the floor and pulled Sienna’s head into his lap. He removed the tiny shrapnel from her cheek and immediately blood spilled heavier from the wound.

Gathering his T-shirt hem, he pressed it against her skin to stop the blood flow.