The Protected

Even as he was struggling to do that, though, he was already reaching for her. He was too well equipped for this, she thought. She evaded his hand and lashed out with one weapon he couldn’t prepare for. Blasting her voice into his mind, she watched as he stumbled and slammed a hand against his temple, caught off guard.

She jerked the door open, taking advantage of the few precious seconds she had. The second she was out the door, she cut the scream off, pulling her weapon as she set her stance.

He came for her, pausing only at the sight of her weapon. She held his gaze.

“We’re not doing this, Casanova,” she said quietly. She licked her lips and hated the fact that she could still taste him. Her entire body throbbed, ached. Burned for him. And if he hadn’t been trying to pull . . . whatever he’d been pulling? She might have been just fine with letting him do anything he wanted to with her. Even with a kid sleeping a few feet away. They’d been in a bathroom, right? She knew how to be quiet.

But he had been up to something and she wasn’t going to be used. Wasn’t going to have any man use sex against her. No matter what the goal was.

“Nobody is going to hurt him,” she said as he edged out of the bathroom, moving closer and closer.

She backed away. And still he kept coming. Eventually, she ran out of room and he stood there with his chest pressed to the muzzle of her Glock and no emotion on his face.

“Nobody is going to hurt him. Nobody is going to take him. I’m here to help keep him safe,” she said.

“Nobody can keep him safe,” Gus said, his voice a monotone. “You don’t even know what is after him.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t. Because you haven’t told me. But I do know that I work for the FBI, and if anybody stands a chance of protecting that kid, it’s the people I work for.”

* * *

“THE people you work for.” Gus stared at her. Stupid woman. She didn’t come off that way, but she had no idea what she was dealing with, when it came to protecting Alex. Up until the past few years, Gus hadn’t even had a clue. And he’d thought he had. Considering the life he lived, he should have been damned well aware.

Holding her gaze with his, he reached up and went to grab her wrist. She spun away, but he’d already noticed the fact that she was determined to be quiet. Taking care not to bother Alex. Considerate . . . he had to appreciate that. Maybe she was being honest. But she was still naive. Naive, foolish . . . and she fit against him better than anything he could ever imagine outside of a wet dream. That strong, limber body had vibrated as he’d leaned into her, all but ready to kill her if it came down to it. But had she stared at him with fear?

No. It had been desire he’d seen in her face. Maybe the fear had been there, but the desire had been stronger.

Damn him straight to hell, but he wanted her. More than he wanted his next breath.

“Crazy woman,” he whispered as she shifted to give herself more room to maneuver. He shot a look over her back, saw that Alex had rolled over onto his belly and had his face buried against the mattress. Concern warred inside him. It was a different sort of battle raging within him then. They had to move, had to run, had to hide and remake themselves all over again. But Alex was ill . . .

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of this,” Vaughnne said. “Back off. Sit down. Chill out. We can talk.”

“Better idea,” Gus suggested. “Get out of my way. I take my boy and we leave. You tell your . . . boss . . . that you lost us and everybody is happy.”

“And when the people chasing you finally catch you?” She lifted a brow at him. “Don’t you get it, you big dumb idiot? Those men waiting outside your house tracked you down . . . by tracking him. You can’t hide him. He’s not trained, he’s hitting puberty, which means he’s going to get stronger. He’s a hazard to himself and everybody around him until he learns how to control that gift of his.”

Something cold lodged in his heart. He wanted to brush it aside. She was wrong. She had to be. “We have done well enough for several years. They were lucky.”

“No. They were smart. One of them was psychic, you jackass.” Her eyes narrowed on his face. “You don’t have any idea what to look for when it comes to people like us, do you?”

Through his lashes, he studied her. “I don’t need to. The boy does.” Gus could feel it when their kind used their abilities, but no. He didn’t recognize them. It wasn’t an issue, though. Not with Alex. The boy could see them well enough. He always had before.

“Again, he didn’t recognize me—if I can hide, what’s to stop somebody else from doing the same thing?” she said quietly. She glanced at her gun and then sighed. “I’m putting this away, but if you come at me again, you and me will go another round. But I’ll pull the gloves off this time.”

There was something so sexy about the way she glared at him that he was tempted to do just that . . . go at her again. But he was already a raging, aching mess of want, and he suspected that if he kept putting his hands on her, his control was going to snap. Masking everything he felt, he brushed by her and moved deeper into the room, pausing to linger by the bed. He reached down to touch Alex’s shoulder, intending to wake him up.

“We can’t . . .” stay. The word was on the tip of his tongue. They couldn’t stay.

Somehow, someway, he’d get the boy to a doctor, even if he had to kidnap one, but they couldn’t stay—

Except Alex seemed even hotter now.

So hot he nearly burned Gus’s hands.

Closing his eyes, he went to his knees by the bed. Please . . .

That was the only thought clear in his mind.

Just . . . please . . .

A hand touched his shoulder.

Woodenly, he said, “The fever seems to be getting higher. I have no way to check.”

“Let me call my boss,” Vaughnne said quietly. “You know he’s ill. He’s half out of his mind with his fever at this point. If you don’t get him help now, it could be too late by the time you do try.”

The absolute last thing he could do was say yes.

The absolute last thing.

But then Alex groaned and rolled over onto his side, shuddering, shaking a little as he doubled over. “Tio . . .” he whispered, opening his eyes. But his gaze was glassy, and Gus had the oddest feeling the boy didn’t even see him.

“I’m here, m’hijo,” he murmured, brushing Alex’s hair back from his face and fighting back the fear that crowded up his throat at the hot, dry feel of fevered flesh under his hand.

“?Mama? ?Donde esta mi mama?”

Gus closed his eyes while a howl built inside his throat. His mother. Son of a bitch—the boy was asking for a woman who had been dead for years. Stroking a hand across Alex’s brow, Gus said softly, “Get some rest, Alex.” He didn’t know what else to say.

Alex blinked and then shook his head. “Tio . . .” When he looked at Gus again, there seemed to be a little more focus in his eyes. “I hurt. My back. My stomach.”

“I know . . . I’ll get you a doctor, Ale . . . I’ll get you a doctor.” He caught himself just before the name slipped out, but he realized he’d already lapsed, calling the boy an endearment that just wasn’t one he should have used. Shoving his cap back, he rubbed his hand over his hair and then resettled it on his head before rising and meeting Vaughnne’s eyes. Nodding to the door, he waited until she had followed him, playing out the words he needed to say. Praying. Planning. Hoping.

He hadn’t trusted anybody in years. Not since Alex’s mother had died. He didn’t want to change that now, but he had to get the boy help. The fever was bad enough, but if Alex was so sick that he was asking for his mother . . . he couldn’t wait any longer.

Hearing the soft fall of Vaughnne’s footsteps behind him, he turned and studied her face. Her dark gold eyes met his and he stared at her, hard. He’d never guessed, he realized. Not once had he guessed that the sleek, sexy woman living across the street from him was FBI. He’d thought it was possible she might have been there to watch them. And he’d been prepared. Had even mentally gone through the steps he’d take to kill her and dispose of her body, if it came to that. He’d been prepared for the wrong sort of bad guy, he