of shock.
The officer on his horse immediately drew his weapon, yelling at him to freeze, but her protector surged forward with such swift and fluid motion it caught the officer by surprise. He fired, his bullet going wild and pinging into the Dumpster over Jessica’s head as her defender grabbed the cop with bare hands and dragged him from his horse.
The horse reared, hooves clawing at air before taking off with a clatter over stone. Jessica stared in awe as her guardian rendered the policeman unconscious with quick, firm pressure of his hand to the man’s neck.
She’d seen people trained in martial arts do that. She’d seen them move like him, too—fast and powerful, balletic. This man was skilled in hand-to-hand combat. He was a walking, talking lethal weapon.
Fear squeezed at her heart.
He dragged the unconscious V.P.D. officer off her and checked his pulse, before rolling the man gently onto the garbage bags and positioning his head so he could breathe easily.
He held his hand out to Jessica. “Come.”
“What…what about the policemen?”
“They’ll wake in a few minutes. We’ve got to move. Fast.”
She stared up at him, the beam from the fallen flashlight catching the icy glint in his eerily pale eyes. He wasn’t even breathing hard. Jessica shrank back into the garbage, suddenly terrified, the aftereffects of adrenaline combined with the cold, making her shake violently.
“You want to live, don’t you?” he said.
She nodded. He reached down, grabbed her wrist and jerked her firmly to her feet. “Come, then.”
He guided her through a twisting network of narrow black alleys that stunk of urine and decay, moving in the direction of the water.
They crossed the railway tracks into a deserted dockyard. The fog was thicker down by the sea, inky water slapping softly against old wood pylons, the scent of brine heavy.
“Quietly,” he whispered, taking her hand as they slipped between two massive rows of shipping containers. He held her back against ice-cold steel, waiting until he was certain they hadn’t been followed.
Jessica’s breathing was ragged, her lungs burning from running in the cold, her pulse pounding wildly. But beside her, his body was as calm and still as a practiced and patient predator. She had no doubt this man could kill with his bare hands and without compunction.
“Who are you—?”
He clapped his hand suddenly over her mouth, and pointed. Another cop car cruised quietly across the harbor entrance, flashing lights creating pulsing halos of white, red and blue in the dense fog.
He removed his hand as the cruiser moved on. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Come—”
But Jessica didn’t move. She felt suddenly paralyzed with exhaustion and she couldn’t seem to order her thoughts.
He tilted her chin and looked into her eyes. “You okay?”
“Please…just tell me who you are,” she whispered.
“My name’s Luke Stone. You ready to run again?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He grasped her wrist and dragged her in a crouching sprint across the empty parking lot toward the black water.
They stopped at a dock pylon, Jessica panting hard. Between them and the North Shore lay nothing but the frigid expanse of the Burrard Inlet. Snowflakes began to swirl bigger and softer, disappearing into the black void below her feet.
He edged her toward the dock edge. “You first. Down there.”
“What?”
He swore softly and grabbed her hands, drawing her into a crouch. He placed both her hands on a frozen metal rung. “Hang on to this. Put your leg over the side, feel for the next rung with your foot, climb all the way down to the inflatable. One step at a time.”
Panic whipped through her. “I…I don’t see any inflatable.”
“It’s down there, in the dark. Trust me.”
Her eyes shot to his. She didn’t trust anyone.
“Jess,” his eyes held hers steadily. “They killed your friend because of what you saw in Chinatown. They killed Giles because you told him. Believe me, they will kill you, too. Don’t give them that chance, okay?” He touched her cheek gently. “I’m here to help you.”
Emotion exploded through her chest and she tightened her grip on the rung.
This man simply accepted what the cops hadn’t—that she really had seen those men, that her life was in danger. He believed her. Surely that placed him somewhere on her side?
“You got the film in that bag?”
She said nothing.
“Give it to me, Jess.”
“I…I’d rather hold on to it.”
He swore again. “Look, we don’t have time for this. Give me your bag.” He reached to take it.
But she pulled back, overbalancing as she did, her foot shooting out from under her, lurching her down toward the ocean. He grabbed her, halting a certain plunge into the icy water. His fingers dug into her arm as she swayed out over the water. “If want my help, Jessica, you give me that bag and you get down into that boat. Fast. Understand?”
There was something in his voice that warned her not to cross him.
Her throat turned dry and her eyes watered as she let him take the one thing from her that could prove her sanity and buy back her credibility—proof that the man who’d tortured her in China three years ago was real.
“Thank you. Now go.”
Heart slamming against her ribs, she swung her leg out, searching for purchase on the old ladder, and she descended blindly into the darkness.
Luke cursed to himself, willing her to speed it up as he scanned the shadowed dockyard, weapon in hand, her camera bag slung across his chest.
This was supposed to have been a simple in-and-out job—pick up the principal at the pay phone, take her back to his place, call it in, arrange to ship her out. It sure as hell hadn’t panned out that way.
Somehow the Dragon Heads—if that’s who those two men were—had gotten wind she’d be at that pay phone. And they’d ambushed her.
He’d just killed two of their members. Those guys tended to hold grudges. He’d also assaulted a couple of V.P.D. cops. There was going to be a fair grudge there, too.
Damn it to hell. Jessica Chan had just sucked him right into her shadowy mess, all the way up to the bloody hilt. The triad, the RCMP and the city police were all going to be out for his blood now, too.
“Way to go, Stone,” he muttered to himself. So much for keeping a low profile. At least you got the girl.
Trouble was, he didn’t want the girl.
He didn’t want to be responsible for protecting another woman. Ever. If he failed again, it would kill him.
Inky ripples fanned out in the ocean as she stepped into the Zodiac. “I’m in,” Jessica whispered from below. And for one insane and fleeting second, Luke almost thought about leaving her. Right there. On her own. In the boat.
Because she scared him.
It wasn’t her beauty or the fact she smelled and felt too damn good when pressed against him. She was frightened. Vulnerable. And she needed him.
Luke didn’t want to be needed.
He didn’t want to care about anyone.
But being close to Jessica Chan had awakened something dangerous inside him. Something better off left dormant, preferably dead.
But