Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling #11)(134)

As they had of a number of anchor homes in the region.

The reason they hadn’t planted a transmitting camera inside was because the anchor’s home, like those of her brethren, underwent a deep security scan every week. Vasquez couldn’t risk that the bug would be found, the transmission tracked back to him.

I only need a second to disable the animal inside, the Tk said at last. The one outside will not make it to the room in time.

I can provide a distraction. He took out a gun. Will that be sufficient?

A nod. Wait until I give the signal.





Chapter 66





RIAZ HAD PULLED rank and taken the inside watch on the anchor—since they were dealing with a Tk, chances were high Adria would be safer on the outside perimeter. Of course, he hadn’t been stupid enough to actually say that. “You look like you want to bloody me,” he’d muttered, deliberately ruffling her fur. “Walk it off before you scare our charge.”

Narrowed eyes, the violet tinged with amber. “I know what you’re up to. Stay in one piece or I will really hurt you.”

When multiple gunshots hit the side of the house, he thought he’d been proven horribly wrong.

Adria!

Even as the rage of anger and terrifying worry blazed inside his mind, he caught a flicker out of the corner of his eye. Claws out, he was moving before the assassin fully materialized. He slammed into the man’s body, trusting the anchor to react as they’d practiced and duck under her desk, cell phone and laser scalpel in hand—it was deadly when used as a weapon, especially in close quarters, as well as being the only offensive option that didn’t make this particular anchor turn green.

“Identify!” he yelled at the instant of impact, because there was a very slight chance this was a friend not foe.

In answer, the intruder shoved Riaz back with vicious telekinetic strength, crashing him into the heavy desk hard enough to fracture the wood, but Riaz had already dug his claws into the attacker’s abdomen. Their violent separation had the effect of ripping the other male’s stomach open. Clamping one arm over his torn flesh in an effort to keep his intestines inside his body, the Tk thrust out a bloody hand and invisible fingers gripped Riaz’s throat in a choking hold.

Spots colored his vision, his chest screaming at the lack of air even as his ears registered more gunshots outside. Don’t you dare get hurt, Empress.

Not bothering to try to pull off hands he couldn’t see or touch, Riaz went for the weapon in his pocket. His fingers closed on the barrel, spasmed, and for an instant, he thought he was going to shoot himself. God, that would piss off Adria. Spurred by the thought, he managed to grip the weapon and pull it out.

“Useless animal.” The Tk used his ability to smash it out of Riaz’s hand.

But that, Riaz thought, was all right. Because even though he had no air, he could scent crushed berries in ice, embers of hidden fire.

One.

Two…

The murderous bastard’s brains exploded in a spray of blood and bone as Adria took him out from behind, her weapon held with rock steady hands.

Coughing and gasping in the air rushing back into his lungs, he crawled his way around the desk to ensure the anchor was safe. She swiped out with the laser scalpel, just barely missing his face.

Good, he thought, realizing at the same instant that the spots in front of his eyes were merging into pure black. Shit.

ADRIA wasn’t fast enough to catch Riaz before his head slammed to the ground. Ignoring the mess she’d made of the assassin, she ran to crouch beside her wolf, her fingers searching for his pulse. “Sonja, you’re safe,” she told the anchor. “Did you make the call?”

“Y-yes.” The young woman peered out from under the dented and now blood-splattered desk. “They said they’d—”

Sensing the air move at her back, Adria swung around with gun pointed … and recognized the two men who’d teleported in from Judd’s descriptions. “No,” she said when they went to examine the dead assassin. “Check Riaz first. The bastard was trying to choke him.” Ugly, mottled bruises had already formed on the dark tan of his flesh.

It was the Asian male with the sharp cheekbones who came to kneel beside Riaz. “I’m not a changeling medic,” he said in a voice that was arctic in its lack of emotion, after running a slim-line scanner over Riaz. “But he appears unharmed. He should recover consciousness soon.”

It wasn’t what the Psy male said but rather the fact she could feel Riaz’s back rising and falling under her stroking hands, his color returning, that had her pressing a relieved kiss to his temple, his face turned to the side as he lay on his front. “Sorry you didn’t get your captive,” she said, knowing they would’ve preferred to interrogate the assassin. “I had to shoot to kill.”

“Understood.” Rising, the black-clad man walked to join his similarly clothed partner, a tall dark-haired male with gray eyes so haunted, she wondered what he saw when he closed them.

Riaz groaned at that instant, putting a hand to his forehead as he pushed himself up into a sitting position against the side of the desk. “I have the headache to end all headaches.”

She wanted nothing more than to yell at him for scaring her, then pepper his face with kisses. “You’re alive,” she said, her game face almost crumbling when he gave her a smile that said he saw right through her tough act, “so don’t complain.” Forcing herself to leave him, she helped the anchor out of her hiding place but told the young woman to stay seated on the floor behind the desk. “You don’t want to see what’s on the other side.”