Danger That Is Damion (35 page)

She
fumbled
with
the
cabinet
and
yanked
it
open, securing the Beretta PX4. The sounds of a struggle pounded out against walls and floors somewhere on the upper level, and she took comfort in the cold steel beneath her palm. She whirled around, ready to fly up those stairs, when the weapon was ripped from her hand. A woman stood there, dressed all in black, long red hair braided down her back.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” she said. “Name’s Sabrina, and we’re going to be real good friends, you and I.” A smile lifted her lips. “Once Skywalker is out of the way.”

Anger
exploded
inside
Lara, and she attacked, calling on the training Skywalker had drilled into her the last ten years. Kick, block, kick—all sidestepped and dodged as if Lara were an amateur, batting at a fly. The next thing Lara knew, the woman seemed to move at the speed of light, shackling Lara’s arm, jerking a big glob of her hair and holding on. Then Lara was being painfully forced in front of the other woman and up the stairs—pushed with the force of a steamroller.

Fiercely, Lara fought, to no avail. The woman was taller than Lara’s five-foot-five by several inches and outweighed her 118 by a good ten pounds. But she was also stronger than she was big. Abnormally strong. Insanely strong. Inhumanly strong. A crazy thought, but one hard to shake as Lara struggled against the attacker shoving her up those stairs.

No
matter
how
she
moved
or
twisted, nothing worked. She’d gladly lose her hair if it meant freedom, but she wasn’t getting away from this woman without losing her arm—not an option.

Approaching
the
landing, Lara kicked her foot backward and tripped the woman. Unfortunately, they both tumbled forward, with Lara on the bottom. And since she didn’t have control of one of her arms, she smashed hard onto the wood floor.

Her
attacker
leaned
close, near her ear. “We don’t want to mess up your pretty face just yet, so behave.” Lara’s head was jerked back, as her attacker yanked her up by the hair at her scalp, lifting Lara to her feet and shoving her toward the surveillance room.

It
was
then
that
her
heart
stopped
beating, then that she saw Skywalker face down on the floor, unmoving. And then that she saw another woman, a blonde dressed in black like the redhead, standing above him. The Beretta flew through the air, and everything went into slow motion.

“Kill him,” the redhead ordered, and suddenly Lara knew who she was.

Lara
screamed
as
the
blonde
caught
the
weapon, aimed at Skywalker, and fired.

The memory replayed with painful clarity, right down to the moment when Skywalker had been shot. Lara gasped and sat up. “Skywalker.” Her eyes settled on Damion.

“Lara.” His hand slid to her face. “Lara. Are you okay?”

Her hands went to his, and she struggled to grasp what was happening. “Damion?”

“Yeah, baby,” he said. “You scared the hell out of me.”

There were other voices in the room too, but she couldn’t make them out, not in the whirlwind of past and present washing over her. All of a sudden, everything inside her crumbled into one big puddle of emotion. “I remember everything. I’m Lara Martin. I ran a girls’ shelter where I’d once stayed myself, but Skywalker found me and took me in. He’s dead, Damion. Powell had him killed to get to me. He died because of me.” She burst into tears, a storm like she’d never known before, shaking from head to toe, and clinging to Damion, the strength of him all that kept her whole. It hurt. It hurt so badly to know she’d caused his death. Everything faded into that hurt, time fading away. All the while, Damion murmured near her ear, stroked her hair, her arms, her back. It was his voice, his comfort that finally calmed her, that finally eased the hurt.

She swiped at the wet mess that was her face and leaned back, remotely aware now that they were on the floor of the conference room. “Thank you. I’m okay. I…”

A biting pain in her hand had her gaze dropping to her palm, and for an instant, her heart stopped. There was a cut on her hand already healing from her GTECH metabolism, blood oozing from the seams.

Her gaze riveted to Damion’s face. “
What
did you do?”

“I love you, Lara,” he said. “I love you, and I couldn’t let you die. And you were dying.”

Anger, fear, and panic rushed over her. She had to go after Powell and Sabrina, even if it meant she died doing it, and now… now he would die if she died. Her fingers curled around his shirt. “I can’t believe you did this. I can’t believe you did this without my permission. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Do you know what you’ve done?” Lara said again, shoving away from Damion and pushing to her feet. “Do you have any idea?”

Damion followed her to his feet, her rejection hitting him with what felt like the Mack truck of an emotional blast. “I saved your life,” he said, all too aware of a growing audience watching this unfold. “I had to save your life, and I won’t regret that. You don’t have to live with me. You don’t have to feel obligated to me.”

She made a frustrated sound. “That’s not what this is about. You don’t even know if what you did worked.”

“You’re standing, you’re fighting,” he said. “It worked.”

“So now what? You and I both die because of what Powell did to me? Damn you, Damion, you aren’t supposed to die because of me. Skywalker died because of me.”

Understanding hit him, and Damion reached for her, wrapping her in his arms. “Lara, sweetheart. I would rather die with you than live without you. I love you.”

“You said you think you love me. That’s a big difference.”

“I know I love you. Believe me. I know I love you.”

“You like me, and you didn’t want to be responsible for my death. You didn’t want the guilt. You felt obligation. You felt—”

“You’re right on at least most of that. I do like you, which is a good thing, since I also love you. You’re damn straight I didn’t want to be responsible for your death. But there was no obligation.”

“Duty then. Call it what you want.”

“You’re right. It’s my duty to protect my Lifebond, who happens to be the woman I love. So yes. It was my duty, and one I’m damn happy to live up to.” He framed her face with his hands and bent his knees to force her gaze to his. “I love you, Lara Martin. I’ll spend however long it takes to prove that to you. I won’t rush you. I won’t make any demands of you. I just want you alive and kicking my butt, while I try and win your heart.”

“Damion,” she breathed. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t do it sooner.”

“Ah, you guys,” Cassandra interjected with obvious hesitation. “Why don’t we do the brain wave testing and see where we stand?” She motioned to the machine on a roller cart.

“We don’t want Lara to move until we test her,” Kelly said, stepping forward, her hands in her lab coat. “You can both sit at the table. We’ll make the setup work.” She glanced at the room full of men—Caleb, Michael, and Sterling. “You guys are going to have to give up the room for a few minutes.”

Damion arched a brow at Lara, and she nodded. “Yes. Let’s do the testing.”

He kissed her forehead. “It’s all going to work out. I promise.” Only his heart was heavy with what was still her rejection. For the first time in his life he’d not only fallen in love, he’d confessed it to a roomful of people. Sure, Lara was worried about his safety, but he didn’t want her worry. He didn’t want her guilt. He wanted her alive, safe, and happy—and he wanted her love.

***

Lara was in knots for so many reasons, she could barely process them all. After the initial brain wave test had been positive for both her and Damion, they’d moved to Damion’s apartment, and the tension between them was thicker than the concrete floors.

Cassandra sat on the edge of the couch where Lara rested and removed the pads from a third brain scan, while Damion stood nearby, hovering. “The news just gets better,” Cassandra said. “Damion’s test results remain normal, and Lara, every time I run your scan, you are closer to normal. The magic of the blood bond is something that never ceases to amaze me.”

Kelly spoke from the recliner next to the couch. “And now you are both alive and well.”

She stood up. “We’ll leave you two alone.”

Lara pushed to a sitting position, and her gaze met Damion’s, the connection spreading through her like warm sun on a cold day. She felt the pain in him. Pain he’d lived with all his life
—
pain she’d created. She felt it, knew it. This amazing, handsome, brave, and sensitive man didn’t deserve to be hurt. Tall and broad—bigger than life—he was the only thing she had worth living for, except retribution for Skywalker, and he didn’t know it. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so much she wanted him to know.

The door shut. The silence stretched until she started talking, making no discernible decision as to what to say or in what order. “My stepfather was a drunk who beat me. My mom didn’t stop him. I ran away and ended up in a women’s shelter where some pimp tried to recruit me. Skywalker rescued me and raised me. He was afraid to, though. He’d lost his wife and daughter to the job. They were murdered by a CIA agent gone rogue who he’d been trying to haul in. He trained me to protect myself—to be as lethal as anyone who might attack me, and…” Her voice hitched, and she had to inhale and exhale to gather her composure. “And still I wasn’t good enough, or lethal enough, to keep him alive. So you see… that’s why I didn’t want this blood bond. I have to go to that press conference, Damion. I know it’s a setup, and I know that no matter how much I want to believe Skywalker will be there and be alive, he’s not. But I need to walk into that trap and turn it on Powell and Sabrina. I need to fight back. Skywalker would want me to fight back. But I’m scared to death. I want to be good enough, or lethal enough, to keep you alive. I love you, Damion. I love you, and I have to go after Powell. How am I supposed to do that now? How am I supposed to go after him and risk your life with mine?”

He was on his knees in front of her, before she’d completely finished the last word, kissing her senseless. Need overtook her. She needed senseless… intensely. She needed him.

“You aren’t alone,” he said, a full minute later. “Never again. I was willing to die
for
you. I’m damn sure willing to die
with
you. But I don’t plan on either of us dying. We’re going to go get our bad guys, and then, when it’s all over, I’m going to do my best to convince you this is home for you, that
I’m
home for you.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go find Caleb and prepare our own trap.” He led her to the door, and she knew she was already home. She just hoped they both lived long enough for it to matter.

***

Damion and Lara were back in the War Room, joining a meeting already in progress, but this time they had a larger crowd than before that included Houston, Jesse, Chale, Michael, Caleb, Sterling, and Becca, who had every intention of putting her gifts where they could help.

“I tracked all of the shots the newscaster showed of Skywalker, and all of them dated back ten to fifteen years ago,” Sterling said, his gaze falling on Lara. “I’m sorry. I really don’t think he’s alive.”

Damion watched Lara straighten, her chin lift. “Powell’s the one who’s going to be sorry. I can’t wait to reintroduce Lara Martin to Sabrina. It’s going to be special.”

“I like you more every day,” Michael said, his tone as serious as a funeral.

Chale grinned. “Me too.”

“Add my name to that list,” Damion said softly, lacing his fingers with hers under the table.

“This press conference is a trap, Lara,” Caleb said. “You are clear on this, right?”

“Of course it’s a trap,” Lara said. “They’ll know I know it’s a trap, so they’ve got some spectacular plan, no doubt.”

“Don’t forget that we’ve got Becca,” Sterling said, pride lacing his voice. “Powell has no idea what her abilities are. If she gets close to a GTECH, she can put them to sleep.”