Page 98 of Trust Me

Kira paused for a moment before climbing from the vehicle, and he had the sense that she was centering herself. Or bracing herself. He said nothing, just waited for her to be ready, afraid that if he opened the door and stepped out, he would be rushing her.

After a long moment, she let out a slow breath and said, “Okay. Let’s go lie our asses off to these assholes.”

That startled a laugh out of him. “Who even are you?”

She met his gaze—really met his gaze for the first time. Her eyes were a pretty hazel, and she had long, thick lashes. “Today, and today only, I’m a Valkyrie.”

Damn. She wasn’t just a Valkyrie, she was a siren.

Chapter Forty-Six

Chris watched the pickup truck back out of the driveway and zoom in the opposite direction from his approach. It wasn’t right. Chris had specifically requested privacy from the homeowner and had been assured he’d get it.

He debated whether or not he should follow the truck. Was it possible they’d…taken Diana?

Shit. The license number had been a blur as the vehicle sped away.

He had a split second to decide if he should take off in pursuit or check on the rental house. What if he followed, but Diana was hurt inside the house?

Was he being paranoid? No one but Ian and the Valkyries even knew he was with Diana. And no one, not even Ian or the Valkyries, knew exactly where they were.

Only Xavier knew that.

His gut said check out the rental.

He was halfway down the driveway when a massive boom rent the air, a sound he was all too familiar with. A bomb of some sort had taken out the back of the structure.

He slammed on the brakes, jumped from the vehicle, and ran toward the burning structure, his heart ready to burst with every beat.

He didn’t have much hope Diana was still alive.

Diana hit her head on a tree trunk as she dropped to the cold ground, but she kept her hold on the phone and even managed to turn the recording camera back toward the burning structure.

She’d gotten video of the bomber and hopefully most of the explosion. But it was the bomber who was most important. Maybe FMV would be able to enhance it enough to get the guy’s face.

She reached around in the leaves, searching for her cane. What should she do? Hide deeper in the woods? Run to the road?

Someone was bound to report the blast. The fire needed to be contained. The forest was damp and unlikely to catch fire, but still, they couldn’t take that chance. If none of the neighbors had reported it, she’d have to call it in.

The men could be waiting on the road, to see if she came out. They could take her then.

And where was Chris? How would he find her if she was taken?

There would be questions about the bombing. No doubt the Gardners would try to pin it on her. But she had video to prove otherwise. She squeezed the precious phone.

With the cane in her right hand, she managed to get to her feet, but she wobbled. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by the knock on her head or some other new injury. She’d banged against the tree pretty hard.

Her vision blurred and nausea rose. She swallowed and would have filled her lungs with air, but the acrid plume from the blast now filled the pine forest with the scent of destruction and terror.

Her ears rang. She could barely hear. She considered her options, but her leg wobbled again and she nearly toppled over. She couldn’t hide in the forest. She had to go to the road. She walked toward what was becoming a wall of smoke. She repositioned her scarf over her mouth and nose, using the soft wool as a filter.

Her eyes burned along with her throat, and she coughed as she skirted the woods closest to the burning house and aimed for the open lawn to the left.

She stepped from the cover of the trees and spotted Chris’s blue SUV with the driver’s door hanging wide open.

“Chris!” She tried to yell, but was seized by a coughing fit, and her words were a raspy whisper—at least that was how they sounded to her muted ears.

Was he in the house, searching for her?

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