fingers wrapped around her wrist. The man’s shirt said Dresden Security, and his muscular figure wasn’t nearly as scary as the look on his face. I scanned him for weapons—a knife, maybe, in his front pocket.
“Can I help you, sir?” My tone was light. “You seem to have taken out my companion. That’s not very nice.”
“You didn’t get our message, did you?” His voice was thick. American.
“You left us a voicemail?” Sloane asked. The man’s nostrils flared in response. “Or like a text? My text messages are out of control right now.”
“We were told not to harm anyone,” the Dresden guard said. “Which is why you got a note instead of much worse.”
“GHB seems much worse than a note, frankly,” I countered.
The man glowered. “You are to leave London immediately.”
Sloane and I looked at each other. Shrugged. “I think not,” she said. “Thank you for the suggestion.”
She took off running, reading my mind.
Except the second she darted around the mountain man, another guard stepped from the shadows and tackled her to the ground.
She screamed.
My heart jerked like it was being torn clear of my body. Before I could make a move, the first guard punched me right in the fucking jaw.
27
Sloane
I didn’t see the blur of movement to my right.
Not until it was tackling me to the ground.
My attacker was built like a linebacker, but I’d trained well for this exact scenario. Distantly, I was aware the other guard had clocked Abe, sending him down. Fury lanced through me, white-hot and vengeful. I’d taken these classes to defend myself—from the past, from my present, from anything terrifying that might be in my future. I’d only ever considered my own personal safety to be the goal.
Now, I barely registered the linebacker landing on top of me. If the other guard hurt Abe, I was going to rip him limb from limb.
The linebacker was still on top of me, wearing a smirk I didn’t fucking appreciate. With my arms outstretched, I was able to scramble in my purse for my pepper spray. I turned my head, squeezed my eyes shut and nailed him right in the face, holding my breath to keep from breathing it in.
When he rolled off me with a snarl, I punched him right in the dick.
My lungs expanded, grateful for air, making me dizzy. The linebacker was yelping as I started to stand, watching Abe executing a complicated-looking series of Krav Maga defenses in his suit, with hardly a hair out of place. His expression was dangerous, revealing the FBI agent who’d trained for twenty years for situations just like that. The guard made another big lunge for Abe, who ducked easily then kicked the man in the side of the knee and slammed his palm into his throat. The guard fell back, gasping for air. Abe was staring right at me.
“Hey,” I panted. “Are you o—”
“Sloane, look out,” he yelled.
The linebacker backhanded me across the face. The force of it smacked me to the ground like a high-speed train. Stars catapulted across my vision, a searing heat cracking across my face. Abe was sprinting toward me, and the guard was already standing over me, eyes streaming from the pepper spray.
So I kicked my leg straight up and caught him square in the groin again.
He collapsed.
“And… down he goes,” Abe said approvingly. He had me against his body in a second. He gripped my face with unbelievably tender fingers, examining the spot where I was hurt.
“It’s just a scratch,” I said, smiling a little. I touched the bruised skin around his jaw, and he winced slightly. The thought of Abe’s pain was unbearable.
“You?” I asked, struggling to keep my tone breezy.
“I’ve survived much worse, believe me,” he said.
The linebacker groaned, tried to sit up groggily. Abe punched him in the nose. Shook out his fingers with a quiet grunt. “Man’s got a face like a bank safe.”
The back door of the Midnight Apothecary opened, and Eudora and the bartender stepped out, spotting us. Eudora shrieked again.
Abe and I turned as one and raced toward the headlights on the other side of the park. I was wearing a short dress and high heels, and the twisting roots and trees kept trying to drag me down.
And my face fucking hurt.
A crashing behind us sounded a lot like the guards. Commotion, yelling, Eudora’s voice echoing through the night. A root caught around the tip of my boot, and I went crashing into the undergrowth.