Page 19 of Covert Vengeance

She snorted. “Right back at you.”

There was nothing remotely funny about this situation and he hurt all over, and yet he found himself biting back a grin at her cockiness. He glanced in the rearview at the other passenger. She was lying across the seat now, eyes closed. “She’s out.”

“That’s probably a blessing.”

“She’s not the woman you were trying to find. Was Hannah Miller the dead woman?”

Her brows drew together. “How do you know that?”

“Megan. Now Answer the question.”

She looked away to focus back on the road. “Yes.”

“So who’s this?”

“An old…friend.”

Another Valkyrie? There had been no mention of another one being involved in this. “How bad is she hurt?”

“She’s got lacerations on her back, maybe some broken ribs. Not sure about internal damage. But we can’t take her to a hospital.”

“No,” he agreed. The men they’d just killed worked for Rahman. He had all kinds of people on his payroll throughout Damascus and the rest of Syria. If they took her to a hospital, they’d all be in more danger. “I’ve got medical supplies at the safehouse.”

“Which is where?”

“About six miles away.”

“How do you know Megan?” she demanded.

“I don’t. I’ve only spoken to her on the phone.”

“Why did you chase me yesterday?”

“Because that bike was my only way of tracking you.”

She snapped her head around to stare at him. “No way. I checked for bugs.”

He shrugged, covered a wince as the muscles in his back and shoulder pulled. “Guess you missed that one.”

He could practically feel her eyes shooting sparks at him, and he kind of liked it. Her innate intensity drew him. It was weird, they’d only just met, yet after memorizing her file and following her for the past couple days, he felt like he already knew her.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped when a beeped sounded. She pulled her phone out, slanted him a look, then typed a message back and slipped the phone into her pocket. “My sister says you’re legit.”

“You’re not going to talk to her?”

“Later.”

Meaning, once they were in the clear, and not in front of him.

She glanced at him, that wary edge to her softening now that Megan had confirmed his identity. “So, how did you get involved in all of this?”

“We’ll talk once we get your friend taken care of. What’s her name?”

“Kiyomi.”

The lingering tension between them eased a bit more as Jesse drove them to the safehouse. It wasn’t the greatest neighborhood but tenants came and went every day here and there was enough criminal activity that the residents kept to themselves and tended to mind their own business. Perfect for their purposes.

He carried a half-conscious Kiyomi up the stairs to the unit he’d rented, through the stale-smelling kitchen with the peeling linoleum and wallpaper, to the second bedroom. A narrow twin bed sat against the interior wall, covered with a fitted sheet. He laid her down on her stomach and moved to the tiny closet to get another blanket and his medical kit. When he turned around Amber had already begun an assessment.

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