You Are Mine (44 page)

One death. It's worth it.

“Let her die,” Zac heard himself say, his voice echoing as if from a long way off. “God will find his own.”

A heavy silence fell, a flash of genuine puzzlement crossing Fitzgerald's face.

There was movement behind him. The sounds of something happening. Fitzgerald's gaze flickered and this time there was no mistaking the shock in his face. “Elijah?” he said in tones of complete disbelief.

A voice beside him, so calm, soothing the red rage like ice on a burn. “Give me the gun, Zac.” And her hand reaching up to his, slender white fingers against his skin, loosening his hold. Taking the Glock away from him.

He couldn't move. Couldn't speak.

Realization, clean and sharp as an arrow, sliced through him. Through the years of anger that had build up, layer upon layer like pearl around a particle of sand. Hit with precise and devastating accuracy, a body blow.

He'd been going to kill Fitzgerald. He'd been going to sacrifice Eva.

“It's okay,” she said softly. “Let me take care of you.”

Then she raised the gun, pointed it at Fitzgerald.

And shot him in the head.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Alex had a limo organized and waiting outside the Second Circle within minutes.

Since the only link they had with Elijah was through Fitzgerald, they'd decided a little visit to Fitzgerald's Park Avenue apartment wouldn't go amiss.

He'd paused only to take a quick dash up to the penthouse to grab his own handgun before following the rest of them out onto the sidewalk.

Only to find a small redhead in a driver's uniform standing next to the limo.

She was familiar.

“That's Eva's driver,” he muttered as they walked toward the limo. “What the hell is she doing here?”

“Trying to find Eva as well,” Honor offered.

“I don't think so,” Katya said in that decisive way she had. “She's not looking worried in the slightest.”

She didn't. Then again, her face was expressionless so she wasn't looking much of anything.

“Temple, isn't it?” Gabriel said as they approached her. “Miss King isn't here, if that's who you're after.”

That's when Alex saw it, something like fear in the woman's light amber eyes. Just a glimpse, like a shadow crossing the sun. And felt it touch his own heart.

No. He wouldn't let anything happen to either Zac or Eva. They were part of the family he'd created years ago. A family he'd protect no matter what. They were important. They were
all
important.

“Where is she?” he demanded coldly. “You know something.”

The woman's gaze flickered, and he knew nervousness when he saw it. “That's why I'm here. Miss King is with Mr. Fitzgerald.

Gabriel stilled, the air around him suddenly dropping ten degrees. “How the fuck did that happen?”

Honor quickly put a hand on his shoulder, but she didn't say anything, her gaze fixed on Eva's driver.

But that didn't stop Katya. She moved past Alex, slamming her hand into the center of the other woman's chest and shoving her hard against the car. “Tell us what you know,” she ordered. “Now.”

Temple didn't struggle. She took a gasping breath, her features twisting. “I took her there.”

“You what?” Gabriel took a step forward, the look on his face frightening.

Katya kept one hand on Temple's chest as she reached into her jacket for her Springfield, heedless of the people on the footpath passing around them.

“I had to!” Temple said quickly before Katya could get her gun out. “I had no choice. Anyway, the why doesn't matter. Miss King is with Fitzgerald and probably by now so is Mr. Rutherford.”

Alex moved forward, trying to figure out the play of emotion on the woman's face. It was difficult. She was obviously used to guarding her feelings. “If you're the one who took her, then why are you now telling us?”

Temple's pale eyes caught his. “My reasons are my own. All that matters is that you know where she is and that she isn't alone. Mr. Hunt is with her.”

“Who the fuck is Mr. Hunt?” Gabriel demanded.

But it was Honor who answered. “Elijah.”

“Yes,” Temple said. “Elijah.”

Alex stared at her. She seemed to be telling the truth, at least, he didn't see any little tells that usually meant someone was lying. Then again, some people were very proficient at lying. “Why should we believe you?”

“I have no reason to lie.”

“And yet you fucking took her to Fitzgerald.” Gabriel reached behind him, grabbing something from the waistband of his jeans. A handgun. He didn't aim it, merely clicked off the safety. “Seems to me you've got some explaining to do.”

Temple didn't look at him, her gaze on Katya instead. “I'll explain all you want later. Mr. Hunt wanted me to pass on that Miss King needs your help and that you should come now.”

Alex closed his fingers around his own gun. “I'm good with that.”

“Excellent,” Gabriel said. “Then we'll blow my fucking father away.”

*   *   *

Fitzgerald slumped to the floor, a hole punched clean through his head.

“What the fuck are you doing?” a hoarse voice demanded.

Before Eva could react, strong fingers wrapped around her upper arm, jerking her around. Black eyes burned into hers, almost incandescent with fury. “He was mine, you bitch! You'll fucking pay for that.”

“No, she won't.”

The fingers around her arm were ripped away as Zac shoved the other man away from her, stepping in front to shield her. “Leave her the fuck alone.” His voice was raw with anger, pain sharp as glass running through it.

There was a dead body inches away from her, the body of the man she'd killed, and maybe she should have felt regret about that. She didn't give a shit about him.

Only one person mattered.

Watching Zac point his gun at Fitzgerald's head, seeing the struggle in his beloved face turn into something cold and frightening, should have terrified her. Knowing he was going to pull that trigger, that he'd doom her in doing so, should have terrified her.

But, strangely, it wasn't her impending death she'd cared about.

All she could think about was that he didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve to have his care for her used like that. His protective nature twisted into something it should never have been.

That if she'd been stronger earlier, she could have looked after herself. She could have fought and maybe if she had, they wouldn't be here. He wouldn't be forced to make this choice.

It wasn't fair.

He'd protected her so long and this was how it ended.

Her heart had ached for him, even though it was herself he was going to sacrifice to kill Fitzgerald. She couldn't blame him. What was her life compared with the lives of their friends? Compared with all the lives of the people Fitzgerald had hurt?

And then Elijah had whispered unexpectedly in her ear. “You need to stop this.” And let her go.

She hadn't stopped to wonder why Elijah suddenly seemed to be on their side. She only knew that it was her chance now. Her chance to take care of Zac the way he'd taken care of her.

So she'd gone to him and taken the gun from his fingers. And she'd shot Fitzgerald. Not for herself and what he'd done to her, but for what he'd done to Zac. What he'd done to her friends.

For that alone he had to die.

And she wasn't sorry. She wasn't sorry about that at all.

Elijah was now staring at Zac like he wanted to kill him. “I told you,” he said in that horrifyingly cold voice of his. “I told you Fitzgerald was mine.”

“Yes, well, he's not anyone's anymore,” Zac replied, just as cold. Just as hard.

The mercenary spat on the floor. Then without any warning at all, he lifted the gun he was holding and pointed it at Zac. “Five years I've wanted revenge on that fucker. And in one second she took it all away. She's going to have to pay for that and if you don't get out of the way, you will too.”

But Zac was already moving. His hand came up with blinding speed, gripping Elijah's wrist and twisting to get rid of the gun. But the mercenary moved too, his body following the twist to get Zac off balance.

Shit.

Eva was still holding the Glock but if she pulled the trigger, she'd probably end up hitting the wrong man, if she managed to hit anything at all.

As the two men began to fight in earnest, she backed around the desk to where Fitzgerald's phone sat. Calling the police was probably the right option but then how to explain the dead body of one of New York's most respected citizens?

Fuck, she needed someone else. She needed Alex and Gabriel. Who were probably wondering where in the hell she and Zac were.

A small coffee table exploded in a shower of wood chips as Elijah fell through it, thrown there by Zac. There was such savage fury on Zac's face, Eva had no doubt his next move would probably be to kill Elijah.

But before Zac could pounce, the mercenary rolled, recovering and managing to block the punch Zac threw at him. He'd lost his gun from the looks of things.

Eva frantically dialed Alex's number.

A bookcase against the wall shuddered, several photographs and a small glass vase smashing onto the floor as Zac was slammed against it.

No fucking answer.

Elijah's hands wound around Zac's throat, crushing.

Eva ditched the phone, picked up the gun again, circled her way around the desk so she was behind the black-eyed mercenary. He didn't pay any attention to her, all his focus on crushing the life out of Zac while Zac reached for the other man's face, his thumbs going for his eyes, his body twisting to get Elijah off him.

She wrapped both hands around the gun to steady herself. Perhaps Zac could beat the other man. Perhaps he couldn't. Whatever, she wasn't wasting time hanging around like a scared little girly to find out.

At that moment, Zac roared in fury and gave a sudden surge, shaking off Elijah's crushing hands. He planted one booted foot squarely in the man's chest sending him flying backward, only narrowing missing Eva.

With barely a pause and without looking, he reached down. To come up with Elijah's own weapon held firmly in his fist.

Eva felt her knees go weak, but she couldn't seem to loosen her own grip on Zac's Glock. So she kept holding it, pointing at Elijah's massive figure on the ground as he struggled to his feet.

“I want to kill you.” Zac's voice was thick and twisted with rage. “Except you let Eva go and that earns you a pass. But if you don't sit down and shut the fuck up right now, you're dead. Understand?”

Elijah bared his teeth. His mouth was bloody, his eyebrow split. “Fuck you.”

Then he made for the door.

Zac fired.

The mercenary faltered, grunting as the bullet hit home, but he didn't stop, disappearing fast through the door. Zac pulled the trigger again, the bullet embedding itself into the doorframe.

He cursed, making for the doorway.

“Zac, wait,” Eva said. Her calm was beginning to seep away, reaction setting in. Still, she was pleased at how steady her voice sounded.

He halted, one hand on the doorframe as he turned sharply around. His amber eyes were furious, his mouth bleeding. “What? We can't let him go. He's got information we need.”

“I know.” She finally lowered her gun. “But I need you more.”

The expression on his face twisted. “Fitzgerald is dead. Elijah worked for him. Which means we have to get Elijah back if we want to know anything about what Fitzgerald's been up to.”

He was right. Of course he was right. But there was something in his eyes that made her afraid, and it wasn't the anger. It was the way he looked at her. Like she was a stranger …

She shook off the feeling, waved the gun. “Go then.”

Zac didn't wait, was out the door before she'd finished speaking.

For a long time she stood there, staring blankly at the space where he'd been. Then she pulled herself together, moving over to the desk and putting Zac's gun back down on it. She didn't look at the man slumped on the flood, his blood making a red pool on the white carpet. He was meaningless to her. He only mattered in that he would never hurt anyone else ever again.

She stared at the desk, frowning slightly.

Well, well. Perhaps Elijah wasn't the only source of information.

Moving around the desk, Eva sat down in the chair. Then she pulled the keyboard of Fitzgerald's computer toward her and began to type.

*   *   *

By the time Zac got downstairs and out the front door of the building, Elijah had vanished.

After standing on the sidewalk for long minutes, scanning the crowds of people moving to and fro, and the traffic building up in the street ahead without success, Zac was forced to admit he'd lost the man.

Fuck.
Fuck
.

Rage sang inside him, blind and savage, the dragon roaring at the loss of its prey.

He'd never been so desperate for a target, anything to focus that rage on.

Why not on yourself? You're the one who nearly killed Eva.

The dragon sunk its claws into his heart and he didn't fight the pain. He welcomed it. Because yes, if she hadn't taken the gun from his hands, he would have pulled that trigger. And it didn't matter that Elijah had seemingly let her go—how else could she have gotten away?—that maybe she hadn't even been in any danger to start with.

What mattered was that he'd been willing to sacrifice her on the altar of his rage.

A woman passing by threw him a frightened glance, making him aware that he was standing on the sidewalk in public with a weapon in his hand and no doubt bruises on his face.

Jesus fucking Christ.

With a ruthlessness borne of long experience, he forced the rage away, trying to compose himself. Tucking away Elijah's gun and reaching for his phone, he pivoted on his heel and went back into the building.