Page 41 of Lone Spy

Diving to the side, I dip between two dumpsters. Shit. Shit. Shit. All this move accomplished is to trap myself in reeking shadows. A rat’s furry body scuttles out from under the chest-height metal box, running over my booted foot, sending a shiver of disgust up my body.

I'm going to die here, and rats are going to eat my body.

Fuck no.

I take in a deep breath of the rancid air, my eyes scanning for a weapon. The ground is littered with broken glass, bits of refuse all turned dingy gray by the environment.

A chain connects the dumpsters to each other. The padlock lies broken—half under one of the wheels. I crouch to grab the chain’s grimy links. Pounding footfalls grow louder. He knows I'm trapped.

The metal scrapes against the ground, the sound ricocheting between the dumpsters bracketing me. The chain is about two feet long and heavy enough to catch my breath as I heft it.

The rev of a motorcycle engine breaks from the trafficked street, zooming down the alley. What the?

A sharp crack of a pistol. The startled cry of a man. A body hits the ground. The motorcycle engine roars closer. I grip the chain, swinging it by my side gently, building up momentum, each pass going higher, harder.

A headlight illuminates the slice of alleyway I can see from my vantage point. The engine settles. A silver motorcycle—something fast and dangerous—rumbles to a stop in front of me. The driver, a tall, broad man wearing a leather jacket and worn jeans, puts a long leg down, balancing the bike.

His helmeted head faces me. Tinted glass shields his identity. But I recognize the man's lethal grace. "Get on." Temperance's voice rumbles across the space between us.

ChapterSeventeen

Frigid,wet air rushes around me—mostly blocked by Temperance's big body. But it plays with my hair, whipping it around my shoulders, and pulling it out behind us like a flag. And it catches my skirt, hiking it up my thighs and fluttering the pleats wildly.

My arms wrap around Temperance's warm body, fingers linked at his stomach. The man is settled into the V of my thighs.

The burn on my arm relishes the cold, damp air blowing over it. The scratches and cuts on my exposed skin go numb under the night's assault. I lay my cheek against Temperance's broad back, the leather soft over warm, hard muscle.

The smooth edge of the compass presses into my breasts. But the rectangle of my phone is gone from my low back. I have no idea when I lost it.

Scattered thoughts kaleidoscope. I can't seem to hold a thread, and soon I give up. Letting the bike's vibrations lull me into a state of calm.

I need a plan.

The thought bumps up against the sensations drugging me. Pain. Cold air. Warm body. Everything humming. Hmmm.

We break away from the buildings and are crossing over a bridge, the Thames below us, black and roiled. Westminster Abbey, glowing gold in the misty night, greets us on the other side. Big Ben stretches up into the cloud-thick sky, the clock face barely visible through the fog.

None of this was visible from the restaurant, all of it shrouded, all of it just a glow under the gloom.

We continue, weaving between traffic. The buildings slip back into the modern era. Glass and metal. Sleek rather than grand. My brain settles into the rhythm of the rumbling motor again.

What happened to Omar?

Is Ash okay?

That one pulls me up, lifts me past the haze. I yell the question to Temperance. He nods. I rest my cheek against his back again.

Where are we going? I can't muster the energy to ask. I'm trusting him out of exhaustion. This is not a good plan…

The city zips past as we weave through traffic. Temperance navigates London’s complex web of streets and squares like he was born here. We dash down narrow side streets and merge into crowded throughways, cars seeming to part for us.

My eyes slip closed, the grip I have on reality fluttering as urgently as my skirt. A warm hand covers mine. Squeezes. "Stay awake." Temperance’s voice vibrates through his back to me as much as it spills from his lips.

I blink rapidly, clawing my way back to consciousness. I'm not safe with this man. I'm in danger. But the adrenaline refuses to come. My body is all out of urgency.

"We will be there soon." Temperance’s rumble reaches me. I nod against his back, rubbing myself against the soft, hard warmth of him. My body refuses to acknowledge that this wall of muscle is not to be trusted. It wants to curl up in the heat of him and sleep for days.

Ash's soot-stained face swims into my mind's eye. The awe in his eyes when he first opened them. He looked at me like I was a goddess. Like I amazed him.

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