Blood and Fire (McClouds & Friends #8)(36)

“You know, you’re a pretty good fighter,” he said.

She snorted. “Yeah? For a girl, you mean?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said. “But yeah. You’re strong and quick, and you have nerve. Do you have martial arts training?”

“A little,” she said. “Years ago, in college. Some of it stuck.”

Which reminded him of something. “Hey. How’s your shoulder?”

“What about it?” she muttered, soggily.

“You took a blow to the shoulder meant for my head. Let me see.”

She flinched away as he reached for her lapel. “No, those blows were meant for me. You were just in the way. And you wouldn’t have been, if I hadn’t hunted you down and pinned a target to your chest!”

“Let me see it,” he persisted.

She shoved him away. “We don’t have time for a f*cking tender moment, Ranieri!”

He held up his hands. “Wow. You’re one tough bitch.”

“Yeah!” she flung back. “That would be why I’m still alive!”

He pondered that. “Do you really know how to hot-wire a car?”

She sniffed. “Theoretically.”

He looked dubious. “You do or you don’t.”

“I’ve studied how to do it on the Internet. I’ve seen diagrams. I know the principles. I’d figure it out. Eventually. I’m quite bright.”

He was grinning, which clearly pissed her off. “Eventually,” he repeated. “While the alarm squeals, and the owner comes racing out with a baseball bat. Come on. There’s a gas station a few blocks over. We can clean up. Use the pay phone.”

“To call who?” she demanded.

“If you want my help, you’re going to have to trust me, OK?”





Trust him. What a concept.

Lily wobbled along, ankles quivering like rubber. She didn’t even know what trust felt like, but look at her, trotting alongside this guy like his pet dog, not even looking at the street signs. Was that trust?

No, she concluded. It was exhaustion. Burnout. She had no executive energy, no ideas, nothing left. All she could do was glom on to someone else’s strength and cling for dear life.

She’d never had the luxury before, not since Howard fell apart. If he was leading her to her doom, so be it. She’d almost welcome it.

She’d never relied on anyone else’s strength before. She’d never seen anyone so strong, either. So quick on his feet and deadly with his hands. The way he fought was practically superhuman, and she hadn’t even seen most of it, being busy fighting for her own life.

She’d seen high-level martial arts exhibitions, with Nina, back in their college roommate days, when they’d entertained fantasies of becoming women warriors. They’d put in a good bit of training in the dojo back then, and she’d loved it, though she’d been forced to give it up years ago. Dojo fees hadn’t fit into her post–Aingle Cliffs budget.

But if there was one thing she had developed in her dojo training, it was an eye for the real deal. She could see it and feel it when someone was manipulating energy. Moving chi. Bruno was exploding with it.

Dawn had officially turned to daylight by the time they reached the gas station, albeit a dreary one. Cars streamed by as the workday geared up, and Lily felt horribly exposed walking around without sunglasses or a hat.

Bruno led her around back of the gas station to an unmarked door. The lock was broken, and when he opened it, the stench that wafted out was so foul Bruno flinched back, cursing. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Can you stand to come in here for a couple minutes? I don’t want to lose sight of you for one second. Hold your nose.”

Lily dragged in the deepest breath she could and sidled into the foul little space. “This cannot be a hygienic place to wash a wound.”

“I’m not going to wash the wound,” he said, turning on the water. “I just want to splash off the blood smeared all over my face. Best not to draw attention to ourselves, right?”

“Something tells me that’s not your biggest talent.”

Bruno looked up from his position, bent over the small, filthy sink, and fixed on her eyes in the mirror as he splashed his chin. Pinkish water drained down from his cupped hands into the basin.

What the f*ck kind of comment is that?” he asked.

She silently kicked herself. “Not an insult.”

“The hell it’s not.” He splashed again, still gazing at her. “What would you know about my talents, big or otherwise?”

A lot, after that incendiary half hour in his late uncle’s apartment. She quelled the hysterical giggles and feigned her usual f*ck-you nonchalance. “It’s just an observation,” she said. “A neutral one.”

“Neutral, my ass.” He wiped his chin. His long black eyelashes were tangled and gleaming with water. “Nothing about you is neutral, Lily. I bet you don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

She couldn’t, in all honesty, deny that. So she didn’t.

“So you’ve been observing me, then. For how long?”

She gulped air to calm the fluttering. Hands clenched, toes curled. Cool as a frozen mocha. “A few weeks,” she admitted. “I checked you out online. And I’ve been tailing you physically for about a week now, as best I could, with no vehicle. You’re not hard to find. The nights working at the diner made it easier.”