Wicked Burn (Realm Enforcers #3)(124)

She threw a shoulder into his rock-hard abs and stood. He was at least a foot taller than she and definitely cut hard.

Everything in her screamed to get the hell out of the area and make a run for it. She was smart, she was tough, and she could handle the situation. No time to think. Tori leaped up and shot a quick kick to his face. While he was tall and fit, he probably wasn’t expecting a fight.

He snagged her ankle an inch from his jaw, thus preventing the impact. Using her momentum to pull her forward, he manacled his other hand behind her thigh and lifted, tossing her over his shoulder in one incredibly smooth motion.

Her rib cage slammed into solid muscle, knocking the wind from her lungs.

One firm hand clamped across her thighs, and he turned, moving into a jog. The sound of men fighting behind them had her lifting her head to see more men in ski masks battling the two guys from the van.

Then her captor turned a corner and ran through an ally, easily holding her in place.

“Let me go,” she gasped, pulling on the restraints holding her hands. Cobbled stones flew by below, while cool air brushed across her skin. Rain continued to patter down, matting her hair to her face.

He didn’t answer and took two more turns, finally ending up in yet another alley next to a shiny black motorcycle. Her hair swooshed as he ducked his shoulder and planted her on her feet. Firm hands flipped her around, and something sliced through her bindings.

Blood rushed into her hands, and she winced, pivoting back around. “Who are you?” She slid one foot slightly back in an attack position.

He reached out and tugged the blindfold completely off her head before ripping off his ski mask.

Adam Dunne stood before her, legs braced, no expression on his hard face. Rain dripped from his thick black hair, and irritation glittered in his spectacular green eyes. That expression seemed to live on him. He was some sort of brilliant scientist, definitely a brainiac, and he always appeared annoyed.

She blinked twice. “Adam?”

He crossed his arms. “It has been nearly impossible to find you.”

His deep voice shot right through her to land in very private places. Then the angry tone caught her. She slammed her hands against her hips. “And that’s my fault? Your stupid people, the f*cking witches, kidnapped me.”

Witches. Holy crap. Adam Dunne was a witch. Sure, she’d figured that out a week ago, but with him standing right in front of her, she had to face reality.

The man looked like a badass vigilante and not some brilliant otherworldly being. For the rescue, he’d worn a black T-shirt, ripped jeans, and motorcycle boots. Definitely not his usual pressed slacks and button-down silk shirt.

His sizzling green eyes darkened. “I have about an hour to get you to a plane and out of this country, so you’ll be quiet, for once, and you’ll follow orders.”

She pressed her lips together. No matter how badly she wanted to punch him in the face, she wanted to get out of the country even more. “Fine.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “We’re getting on the bike, heading to the airport, and then you’re flying to Seattle. You don’t know who rescued you, and you haven’t seen me in weeks.”

She swallowed. “How much trouble are you in if we get caught?”

He turned and grabbed a helmet off the bike. “Treason and death sentence.”

Everything in her softened. He’d risked his life for her. Sure, his brother was dating her sister, but even so. “Thank you.”

He turned and shoved the helmet at her. “Don’t thank me. Just do what I tell you.”

Man, what a jerk. Nearly biting through her tongue to keep from lashing out, she shoved the helmet on her head.

He did the same and swung a leg over the bike, holding out a hand to help her.

She ignored him and levered herself over the bike and into place, anger flowing through her. Why did he have to be such a dick? She’d wanted to thank him, that’s all.

He ignited the engine. It sputtered. He stiffened and tried again.

Hell. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her temper. They had to get out of there. Work, bike. Damn it, work. The more she tried to concentrate, the more irritated she became.

He twisted the throttle again, and this time, nothing happened.

Damn it. Why the hell did this always happen to her? What was wrong with her? “It won’t work. If it’s broken, it won’t work.” She tugged off the helmet and slid off the bike.

He turned toward her. “The bike ran just fine an hour ago.”

She shrugged, her face heating. No way was she telling him about her oddity. “I know the sound of an engine that’s not coming back to life, and so do you.”

He frowned and tried the bike again. Nothing. “All right.” He swung his leg over and stood, reaching for a buzzing cell phone and pushing a button. “I have a problem,” he said.

“The woman has been tagged,” came an urgent male voice. “There’s a tracker, and you have about five minutes until the Guard gets there.” Keys clacking echoed across the line. “Get rid of the tag and find safety. I’ll be in touch with new coordinates as soon as I can.” The line went dead.

Adam surveyed her from head to toe, reaching for her shirt.

She slapped at his hands. “What are you doing?”

He sighed. “You’ve been tagged, and I don’t know where. Strip, baby.”