Protector: The Elect, Book 1 (11 page)

“Let’s get out of here, angel.”
 

“I need to start cleaning this mess up. I can’t work like this.”
 

Like he was letting her come back here? There was a perfectly good lab at the compound. He hadn’t meant to share the thought, but it was too late now. She narrowed her eyes and tugged free.
 

“I don’t work for you, Braxton. I have a job.”
 

“I need to get going,” Aaron interrupted. “Call if you need me, bro.”
 

He watched Aaron until shut the door behind him then turned to her. Her chin was tilted stubbornly in the air, her expression mutinous and ready to argue, but she’d let her shields slip a bit. She expected him to try to refuse her and was prepared to fight him over it. Fuck.
 

“This place isn’t secure, Esme. It isn’t safe for you or your research, and you know it.”
 

“Everything is destroyed,” she pointed out. “They won’t come back. And the college president assured me security is being increased.”
 

Not to his satisfaction. There was no way the college could afford it. Unless they were to receive a very private endowment for just that purpose.
 

“What are you thinking?” she asked suspiciously.
 

“What do you mean?”
 

“I can tell something is going through that sneaky little mind.”
 

He stalked closer. She retreated until he had pinned against a long counter. Her eyes darkened, nostrils flared. He could scent the heat rising in her.
 

“Now is not the time for this,” she whispered, her hands clutching in his shirt, nails digging through the material to his skin. Oh yeah. He liked that. Liked wearing her marks, the signs of her passion.
 

“Not the time or place,” he agreed, dipping his head to nibble her neck.
 

He released her reluctantly, but he didn’t give her room to get away from temptation. He had no escape; why should she? Hell, he didn’t want to escape. But he couldn’t have her miserable, couldn’t allow her to risk her safety if there was something he could do to add to it. Besides, he wanted to see her eyes light with happiness. Wanted her to know she was safe and protected without being smothered.
 

And it wouldn’t just be her safety. He’d seen the interest in her eyes when Pop had talked about his genealogy project. Knew they both wanted to see what their combined efforts might reveal. Which meant the old man would be spending a fair amount of time here too.
 

“I can build you a new lab inside the compound,” he offered.
 

“You’re just determined to take over my life, aren’t you? No, Brax. I work here.”
 

“Fine.” He rolled the possibilities over in his mind. “But not like this. Not like you have been.” She opened her mouth to protest. “No, baby. I will not compromise your safety. Don’t even think about it.” He sighed. “Besides, I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot of my grandfather. You can’t expect me to let him walk into danger no matter how determined you are to do it.”
 

Okay, he was a little put out by her stubborn streak. He wanted to take the words back as soon as they were said, even before he felt her hurt and responding anger.
 

“I didn’t ask for this,” she snapped.
 

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He had hoped, prayed for so many years for a woman of his own; he didn’t understand why she wasn’t just as eager.
 

“I know. Come on. I need to see the rest of this building.”
 

She walked beside him, pointing out which lab belonged to whom until they got to the sixth floor, the top floor. “There’s no one up here. It’s all empty.”
 

Which made it perfect for his purposes. Lee Enterprises could fund a private research project here and demand whatever security measures necessary. They walked by two large labs and their adjoining offices. It was obvious the space hadn’t been used in years, until they reached the end of the hall. There was a faint, fading psychic scent seconds before he heard a door slam. Judging by the loud clanging sound, it was the door to the stairwell.
 

“Shit. Stay behind me, Esme,” he ordered.
 

He was amazed she listened. He couldn’t let the intruder go, but he couldn’t leave her up here alone. Damn it. He should have brought Mason with them or kept Aaron around. They reached the bottom floor in time to see the front door closing, but when Brax started to go after the intruder, Esme grabbed his sleeve. He glanced down at her, wondering if she was finally afraid, and she shook her head once, then lifted her chin to a door across the hall.
 

Esme knew the intruder hadn’t left. It was a clever ruse, but still just a ruse. She could feel him in the office across the hall. Feel his anger and hate and determination. He was there to capture her, not kill, but in his mind Brax was fair game. The intruder hadn’t received orders about him. She read Brax’s surprise when her pistol was suddenly in her hand, though
why
she couldn’t fathom. He’d seen Carter give it to her.
 

They moved together, and she stayed a step behind him. He was bigger. No doubt better trained. She wasn’t a slouch herself, but she hadn’t been on a range in a couple of years. Even if this situation was resolved soon, she’d have to rectify that.
 

The office was clear, and they entered the lab. She could feel the intruder close by. Watching. Waiting. She opened her senses, trying to locate him, but only got a vague idea. He was good at hiding himself and his mind. Then she felt the briefest spurt of anger, but it was enough. There were several workstations set up around the room, with aisle space around them.
 

Brax tried to force her to stay behind him but backed off when she snarled. This was her fight, and she wouldn’t be kept from it until they discovered who was after her and why she wouldn’t be safe. She’d made sure years ago that she could take care of herself.
 

She could feel the stalker hunkered down behind the next lab table and met Brax’s gaze as she paused. There was so much worry in his eyes she almost sighed. Damn it. His attention was divided, and that wasn’t good.
 

“
I’ll cover you.
”
 

Some of the tension eased from his body, and he gave her a curt nod. They still approached from opposite sides, but she hung back a bit, pistol held loosely in her grip, aimed and ready to fire. She didn’t get the chance.
 

The stranger jumped Brax as soon he drew close enough. They fell to floor, crashing into tables and stools as each struggled for supremacy. The other man had a gun, and they fought for it. Brax grabbed the barrel and twisted, trying to break the intruder’s grip. Esme cursed as she edged a little closer. She couldn’t get a clear shot without risking Brax, and he kept them rolling away from her so she couldn’t jump in and help.
 

Brax finally seemed to gain the advantage, straddling the man, pinning him to the floor as he gripped the wrist holding the pistol and slammed it against the floor once, twice, again. It fell from limp fingers, but not before Esme felt a surge of triumph fill the air.

The assailant reached down and pulled a second gun from an ankle holster. She didn’t have time to search for cover, call out, or even think before he fired. She acted on instinct, using her telepathy to thrust into his mind. And wished like hell she hadn’t. His mind was sick, diseased, and she imagined putrid oiliness coating her skin as she jerked her mind free. Her sudden invasion of his thoughts caused him to jerk, so his aim was off. She felt the stinging pain in her arm as the bullet whizzed by.
 

Brax roared with fury, slapping the small pistol from the man’s grip before brutally striking upward under the intruder’s chin with the heel of his hand. It stunned the assailant. Brax straightened and turned to her, holding his hands up and out, and she realized she was still pointing the gun in his direction. She would have lowered it, but the stranger was already moving again.
 

Esme watched as if it was slow motion as he rolled over, grabbed the pistol he’d dropped, and raised it to point at Brax’s head. She felt the man’s intentions. Kill Brax fast and her slow. Her stomach rebelled at the images she picked up from his mind. She didn’t hesitate. She stepped to the side for a clear shot and fired.
 

She experienced a moment of horror combined with relief as red bloomed over the assailant’s chest. He looked down in disbelief and seemed to fold into himself and collapse to the ground.

He was dead. She’d killed a man.
 

She stared down at him and tried to feel remorse, but it didn’t come. She just remembered his mind. The badness, the evil. Should she feel guilty for killing someone who hadn’t just wanted to kill her, but torture her, for his own pleasure first? She
refused
to feel bad about that.
 

Slowly she became aware of Brax standing next to her. He pried the pistol from her hand and set it aside, and then gingerly examined her upper arm. His anger was a violent pulsing energy in the room, but she couldn’t focus on it. Shaking, panting, she looked around, trying to focus, to regain control of her hammering pulse and the adrenalin surging through her.
 

“It’s just a graze,” she whispered as he snarled. “Probably doesn’t even need stitches.”
 

Damn, did it sting, though. She was vaguely aware of him opening his phone and barking orders, but her attention, trying to focus on anything but the body, caught on something else. During the fight, Brax must have ripped off the other guy’s jacket pocket. It lay abandoned a few feet away, a small square business card next to it. She only had time to pick it and shove it in her pocket before Brax hurried her out and back to the car.
 

“Where are we going?”
 

“Aaron’s office. Mallory is going to meet us.”
 

“I thought we were seeing her later.”
 

“She’s a paramedic, baby. She’s going to check out your arm.”
 

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, but left it at that.
 

His worry for her was a discordant clang in her head. She’d submit to an exam if it would stop that. But she stopped at the elevator.

“Wait. We can’t leave. Why isn’t Aaron coming here? Or sending someone here?”

“The Elect will take care of this.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Brax,” she said patiently. “I just killed someone. You can’t make that disappear.”

“Yes, I can, angel.” His voice was soft, gentle, and completely at odds with cold hard look in his eyes. “My job is to protect the Elect. Making this public will only draw attention to us.”

According to the rules of his world, she knew that made perfect sense. It was her world too, she reminded herself. Strange and new and maybe not quite as civilized.
 

He didn’t say a thing as she thought it over, just watched, patient, waiting. Finally, she nodded, and he gave a long exhale that sounded like relief to her. This time she didn’t argue when he took her hand and led her into the elevator, then out to the car.

The drive didn’t take long, and the desk sergeant gestured them upstairs. If he thought it strange a bleeding woman was going to see a police captain instead of to a hospital emergency room, he kept it to himself.
 

Aaron was waiting for them when they stepped off the elevator, his fury and concern just as off the charts as Brax’s. She wondered briefly if they felt and magnified each other’s emotions. Brax filled him in while Aaron led the way to a spacious corner office. A pretty young woman in a firefighter’s uniform was waiting for them. Her smile was warm, and she extended her hand to Esme.
 

“I’m Mallory Littman.” Her grip was strong, confident and brief. None of her emotions bled through, but Esme thought she saw a flash of curiosity in the other woman’s eyes as they flicked over the two men who seemed to fill the large space. Esme liked her immediately.
 

“Esme Durand.”
 

“Come to the desk, and let’s get this jacket off.”
 

Esme followed her, shrugging free of the garment and reaching for the edge of her shirt to pull it over her head. Mallory snapped on latex gloves and probed the area carefully.
 

“Well, the good news is, it looks like a small caliber round and it just nicked you.”
 

“Bad news?”

“Stitches. Three should do it.” She started pulling supplies out of her bag, starting with a syringe and alcohol swab. “I’m just going to deaden the area. It shouldn’t make you woozy or anything.”
 

Esme nodded her assent, and it was quickly done. Mallory got ready for the next step with smooth efficiency. “I don’t suppose anyone wants to tell me what happened? Is this related to my arson investigation?”