The Protected

riveted by the scenery. Of course, there wasn’t much to admire. A busy parking lot. Atlanta traffic. Nothing fun. He stood there, hands in his pockets, shoulders straight, gaze locked on something only he could see.

“Alex, you know for certain your father is involved in the drug trade?”

Alex shot her a glance.

With a tired sigh, Vaughnne met his eyes. “Tell him the truth, Alex. We’ve already come this far.”

“Yes, sir,” Alex said, his voice soft but steady.

Jones looked back, eyed Gus’s still form. He hadn’t stirred once in the past thirty minutes. Alex said he hadn’t ever hit anybody as hard as he’d hit his uncle, but he had to go at him hard—he’s harder to read than most.

Some people were just more immune to psychic abilities. Harder to read, harder to touch. Vaughnne had to work harder to whisper into his mind, so it wasn’t a surprise that it took more to affect Gus. It was probably that thick-as-stone skull of his.

Alex shot her a look. “He’s okay,” the boy said, his voice nervous. “I wouldn’t have hurt him. Really.”

“I know.” Vaughnne smiled at him.

Taige had done a mental probe a few minutes ago—the man was out, but fine. Still, Vaughnne didn’t like the pale, grayish look to his skin. This whole thing was messed up.

“Are you going to help or not?” she asked quietly, looking at her boss.

“Help,” Jones muttered, shaking his head. He slid a look her way. “And what are you going to do?”

She gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. “I’m just going to stay here and try to talk some sense into him, of course.” Make sure he didn’t tear off after his nephew. “Ah . . . although I’m thinking it would be best if you didn’t head straight to D.C.”

Jones snorted. “Yeah, that’s assuming I’m crazy enough to do this.” He paused. “I can’t believe I’m even considering it.”

“You have a better idea on how to keep this kid safe?” She stared at him. “If you do, I’m all ears.”

She heard something crack and looked down, saw that Jones had one hand clenched into a fist—a tight one. His knuckles were bloodless. “You already know I don’t. I’ve got a source who is working on the website. She tells me that she’s working on disabling the link. Once that’s done, he’ll be safer, but it’s going to take her some time, I’m afraid.”

The link—yeah, that little I’ll pay you to kidnap a boy ad. The website. Good. If they got that down, things were already improved. But not enough.

Nothing would be enough, not until Ignacio Reyes was dead. But she couldn’t exactly tell her boss that she was planning on helping an assassin go all assassin on somebody, right?

Shrewd, steel blue eyes narrowed on her face. She kept her expression bland, although she wasn’t expecting that to get her very far. Jones might not have shown any of the traits in the psychic testing he’d developed, but the man could read people the way others read a book. Absently, he ran a hand down his tie and then shook his head. “You’re not telling me everything.”

“I’m telling you what you need to know.” She shrugged. “I’m telling you what’s the most important information . . . for you. And if you’re going to do something to protect the boy, the time to do it is now. You won’t have another chance like this. Gus is down, he’s out, and he’s going to move slower for a little while.”

A heavy, taut silence hung between them, and although she said nothing else, she knew damn well Jones was picking up on all the things she wasn’t saying. Even some of the shit she’d rather him not be aware of.

But then, slowly, he nodded and looked over at Alex. “Son, you realize what we’re talking about, don’t you? If I do this, I’m taking you away from somebody who may or may not have a legal right to take care of you . . . but I have none.” He slid Vaughnne a dark look. She didn’t read minds, but she didn’t have to read anything to know what that look meant. I’m out of my mind to do this. “Do you believe you’re in that much danger that I should do this?”

Alex stared at his knees, his thin shoulders trembling, shaking. “I don’t sleep, sir. Not much. I’m always afraid they will come. That they’ll someday kill my uncle and there will be nobody to stop them from taking me back.”

“Back to where?” Jones asked.

Alex shot him a look and then he shifted his eyes to Vaughnne. Tell him, she thought, hoping the boy’s gift was as strong as she thought it was. Tell him what you can . . . make him understand.

The boy seemed to wilt. His eyes closed and he dropped his face to his up-drawn knees. “Back to my father,” Alex said. “He’ll make me do it again. Use . . .” He waved a hand in front of his face. “This. He did it before and killed people.”

Now he looked up at Taylor and Vaughnne, and it was hell written in his eyes. “Please. I can’t go back, but if we keep running, they’ll catch us. My uncle is going to die. Others will. If we keep going . . . it just won’t stop. And it’s getting harder for me to keep it in control on my own. All the noises. Everything in my head.” A sigh shuddered out of him and he whispered, “It’s just getting worse and I can’t do this much longer.”

A shiver raced down her spine, but she fought to keep her face blank. Just how much of that was fear, she wondered. How much of it was something more?

My uncle is going to die . . .

“You’re afraid your uncle is going to die?” Jones asked quietly.

“No.” Tears welled in the kid’s eyes, and when they started to roll down his cheeks, it was as though he didn’t even notice. “I feel it . . . see it. Something. It’s in my head. We’re running. They catch us . . . and he’s just gone, and then they have me. I can’t go back there and do what they want me to do. I can’t lose Gus. I—”

“Okay.” Jones lifted a hand and turned away. “I understand, Alex. We’ll get you away. Until Vaughnne can . . . talk sense into your uncle.” The irony in his voice was heavy, and she just stared at him as he watched her for a long moment.

He passed by her as he headed toward the door. “I’m going to get him out of here. Stay with him. I won’t be long.” He went to head off and then stopped, looked back at her. “Watch the lines you cross, Vaughnne. I understand the desire, but I can’t help if you go too far.”

Looking out the window, she said, “Not sure what you’re talking about, boss. I’m just here to help with the kid.”

He wasn’t fooled.

But then again, she’d never expected to fool him for very long.

* * *

THE second he opened his eyes, Gus knew there was a problem.

It wasn’t just because Vaughnne was sitting on the bed where Alex should have been, either.

It wasn’t just the look in her eyes, either.

It was the tension in the air.

It was the fact that the door was closed.

And there was also the fact that she had a gun in her lap. He’d been forced to turn over his Sig Sauer when they were checked into the hospital. He could have managed to get it inside, except Vaughnne had been pretty clear that if he didn’t turn over the weapon, she’d make things unpleasant. He could have handled that and might have been willing to deal with it, but his concern for Alex—and maybe a flicker of trust in her—had him giving in.

A trust that was obviously misplaced.

Vaughnne wasn’t going to have those pesky little problems. She could keep her weapons with her, he supposed, thanks to those FBI credentials, the ID hanging around her neck. She had her hand resting on the butt of the Glock, and he knew without a doubt she’d be very comfortable using that weapon. Some people weren’t comfortable with firearms. Others were. She held it like it was an extension of herself.

Her mouth was a firm, flat line, and the warm, smooth brown of her skin looked just a little paler than it should. Her freckles seemed darker in contrast. He wanted to haul her against him, kiss her, strip her naked, and