let alone leap to her defense, before the third Breed male came at him with murder burning in his whisky-colored eyes.
Eyes that bore a striking resemblance to Devony’s.
Holy hell. It couldn’t be.
And yet it was.
He didn’t know how it could be possible that her brother was alive and well after all these months, but since he’d stated his intent to harm Devony—Christ, to kill her in cold blood—his miraculous resurrection was going to end here and now.
On a crazed bellow, Harrison Winters plowed into Rafe’s injured midsection, taking both of them down to the floor. Devony’s not-so-dead brother pinned Rafe beneath him. Spittle gathered at the corners of his snarling mouth as he brought his hand up to Rafe’s chest.
No fucking way.
Rafe dodged the other male’s siphoning touch and threw him off. Winters came at him again, his bare hands curled like claws. He took a swipe at Rafe, trying to latch on to him.
Rafe was faster. And he had another dagger sheathed on his weapons belt. He pulled it free and flipped it around in his grasp, then brought the razor edge down between his attacker’s third and middle fingers.
Winters roared. His left hand gushed blood, nearly split in half. “Now, you die, warrior.”
Using his right, he slammed his fist into the side of Rafe’s skull.
His vision spun as he staggered down onto one knee. Across the foyer, Devony had the death squad thug by the throat, draining away his power. But while that killer began to slump in her grasp, his partner had found his legs.
“Devony, behind you!”
The thug lunged for her, knocking her into the wall. Plaster and millwork cracked with the terrible impact of her full-body crash against it.
Rafe felt it too, her pain. Her terror. Her fading hope that they would get out of this alive.
In that same moment, he called upon every ounce of speed at his command and pulled one of his guns free from its holster. He squeezed off a shot, hitting the big bastard between the eyes. He put a bullet in the second one’s skull just to keep the son of a bitch down for good.
But that still left the problem of Devony’s brother.
Winters clamped his huge hand on Rafe’s shoulder and squeezed. Rafe couldn’t dodge the connection fast enough this time. He felt the other male’s power begin to siphon away his own.
No.
Ah, fuck. He had to hold on.
Winters grinned, his eyes crazed and bright as lava. He reached for Rafe’s weapon, using his mangled, bleeding hand to pull the weapon out of Rafe’s slackening grasp.
Damn it. No.
Winters lifted the gun, his movements awkward after Rafe had nearly cleaved his hand in two.
Rafe watched the gun rise toward his face. He couldn’t fight back now. He could hardly maintain consciousness as the barrel of his own patrol weapon was aimed point-blank at the side of his skull.
He heard the gunshot.
It exploded like cannon fire in front of him.
But as his vision wobbled in and out of focus, he realized it wasn’t his head that had been cracked open by the discharged round.
Harrison Winters dropped to the floor, lifeless.
And standing behind him with one of the death squad thug’s guns in her hand was Devony.
“Rafe,” she gasped, setting the weapon down as she scrambled next to him on the floor. Her hands were cool and trembling as she ran them over him, emotion welling in her eyes. “You came after me. You saved me.”
He gave a halting shake of his head. It took all his strength to lift his hand and rest it gently against her bruised cheek. “No, Devony. You’re the one who’s saved me.”
CHAPTER 29
Somewhere over the Atlantic, Rafe woke up with Devony in his arms. They were aboard the Order’s private jet, lying naked together in the bedroom cabin of the spacious aircraft.
Mathias Rowan and his team had reported to the Darkhaven to retrieve them and contain the situation following Rafe’s call. The Order would take care of the bodies and the cleanup of the property. They would also clamp a lid on the stunning revelations about Devony’s brother and his involvement with Opus Nostrum.
Rafe still couldn’t believe how heinously Harrison Winters had betrayed his duty, his JUSTIS colleagues, and his family. That he had been willing to add Devony’s life to that brutal tally made Rafe wish he had been the one to kill the bastard. Slowly. Excruciatingly.
The fact that he had arrived with only moments to spare before anything worse had happened to Devony made