Her body moved with his instinctively, as though they’d never been apart. He slid his hands down to cup her backside. She arched closer.

  “Let me take you to bed,” he offered. “I swear everything will make sense in the morning. You’ll see.”

  She wasn’t sure about that, but she also knew she didn’t have the fortitude to turn him down.

  Holland peered up at him, fearing she’d regret this. But she no longer cared. She nestled her body against his and nodded.

  “Down!” another voice screamed. “Shooter! Three o’clock.”

  Her eyes widened as a shot cracked through the air.

  FOURTEEN

  Dax moved the minute he heard the voice. Down! Shooter! Three o’clock.

  On his right.

  He tightened his arms around Holland and shoved her down, to his left, just as the bullet whizzed past them.

  Someone was shooting at them from the rooftop across the street, and he’d gotten caught without his gun. Since realizing that his dad’s death had been part of a larger plot, he hadn’t been without a weapon of some kind on his body. He was always ready to defend not only himself, but his friends and family. But when he was with Holland, he forgot about everything but her.

  “Are you all right?” He covered her body with his.

  Dax had tried to take the brunt of the fall, but he was sure she was scraped up.

  She nodded. “But we need to get inside. We don’t have much cover here.”

  He’d rolled her to the back of the balcony where it would be harder for the gunman to spot them, but she was right.

  Another volley of gunfire sounded, and he turned them again, exposing his back and using his body to protect her. Dax tensed, waiting for the feeling of the bullet piercing him.

  “We need to move,” she whispered. “I hear two types of fire. One is from a handgun and the other a rifle. I think whoever has the handgun is giving us some cover. But we need to get inside and now.”

  She was right. There were definitely two shooters, and one had tipped them off. Good to know they didn’t have two armed bastards with murder on their minds after them.

  He rose to his knees. “You stay close to the wall. We’ll move as quickly as we can. When you get inside, stay down and away from the windows.”

  “My gun is on the bar. I can get to it with minimal exposure. You find your phone and call the police,” she said calmly.

  His girl was good under fire. “I don’t think getting the cops here will be a problem.”

  Tourists screamed on the streets below as they realized people were exchanging gunfire. The Quarter would be a chaotic mess in minutes, making it very simple for the assassin to slip into the crowd and fade away.

  Dax crept across the rest of the balcony and let Holland in first. He could still hear screaming and intermittent gunfire, but now the sweet sound of sirens joined the mix.

  He shoved the balcony door open and forced his way through. By the time it slammed behind him Holland had already retrieved her SIG and was easing toward the front door.

  “I don’t think that’s a great idea, sweetheart.” He knew she wanted to get out there and search for the person who’d shot at them, but they had no idea who they were looking for.

  Holland paused at the door, glaring. “You can’t expect me to sit on my hands. I need to figure out where the asshole was perched. He might have left something behind.”

  “I think we should figure out who warned us first.” The voice had been deep but he would bet anything it had come from a woman. “Besides, the police are on their way. We’ll have to give a statement.”

  Suddenly, he heard a crashing sound. Glass shattered all around them. Dax whipped around to the balcony windows. As the curtains caught fire, horror dawned. Someone had tossed a Molotov cocktail through the window.

  “The files,” Holland said, her eyes widening.

  Already Dax could feel the heat as her thin curtains flamed and the carpet caught fire. He ran for the files as another bottle sailed onto the balcony and added to the flames. He could hear more gunfire but it didn’t matter—nothing did except getting Holland out. He grabbed one of the laptops and the file folder, leaving everything else behind.

  “Go,” he ordered, aware they had to escape onto the street to avoid the blaze . . . where they would have nowhere to hide.

  Holland snatched up his bag from the couch and slung it over her shoulder. It would give them an extra weapon. He would take it.

  He took her hand and threaded their fingers together. No way he was losing her.

  “The door in the back leads out to the streets. Unless they have someone on the top of the building or waiting for us, we should be able to slip out and take one of the side streets away from the Quarter. We can get in touch with the police from there.”

  He already had his cell in hand. One of the great things about dating Holland Kirk was that when assholes tried to assassinate them, he could divert his attention enough to call for help because his woman knew what she was doing. She took the lead, making sure the hall and stairway were empty as they began their descent.

  He called the cavalry. It only took a single ring for Connor to answer.

  “What’s happening, brother? Is Holland proving to be stubborn? I hope so because Lara and I have a bet riding on this. Actually, I have a bet. She told me it was nasty and inhumane to bet on a friend’s love life.”

  Good for Lara. “No time. Someone just took a shot at us and torched Holland’s apartment. I need a safe house. We’re heading out of the city and I’ll call when it’s safe. Make transportation arrangements for us, too.” He disconnected the call and slid the phone in his pocket.

  “We should make our way to the police station,” Holland said.

  “I’m rethinking NOLA PD involvement, sweetheart. Only two groups know I’m in town—the cops and your team.”

  Her jaw tightened as they made it to her building’s back door. “You think someone on one of the teams is working for the mob and you’re probably right. Both teams also knew I had the photos. One of them has to be responsible for this.”

  As he poked his head outside, he cursed. “Damn it. You take the nine and I’ll take the three.”

  She nodded, and they both burst through, him veering left and ensuring no one shot them from that direction, and her preventing the same on the right. When their surroundings looked clear, he took her hand again.

  “Let’s head toward Canal Street. We can find a bar and wait until Connor calls.”

  She gritted her teeth, as though the idea of running upset her. But she slid her gun into the back of her jeans and hid it with her shirt, nodding. “All right. I need to text my uncle though, otherwise he’ll put a BOLO on my ass.”

  The last thing they needed was the police hunting them. Oh, someone on the force might be, but they didn’t need it to be official. “All right. Let’s go.”

  He squeezed her hand and they lost themselves in the crowds as sirens filled the air.

  As they crept out of the Quarter, Dax had to wonder about that woman who’d screamed a warning for them to move.

  Her identity was a mystery, but one he intended to solve.

  * * *

  Holland frowned at the text as Dax turned off the highway and straight into bayou country.

  Worried about you. Call me when you can. And watch your back. Trouble is following your old boyfriend everywhere. He’s not to be trusted.

  Her uncle. She’d managed to convince him not to send a SWAT team her way, but he wasn’t convinced she was safe. Of course, since it looked as if she was headed into Deliverance territory, she wasn’t certain, either.

  “Do you know where you’re going? Are you sure this is where Connor told us to hide out?” Because she’d just seen an alligator lazing on the roadside and that didn’t give her a warm fuzzy.

  Dax grinned as though this was all just one big adventure. “What’s wrong, city girl? Can’t handle a few critters? I thought you were raised in New Orleans.”

  “Exactly. New Orleans. I was raised in the city, not the swamp. My aunt always told me the swamp was for gators, tourists who wanted to get eaten by gators, and criminals who knew no one wanted to hang out with gators. Which of those categories does your friend fall into?”

  If anything, his lips tugged up higher. “He falls into the crazy motherfucker category.”

  “You’re awfully happy for a man on the run.”

  He turned back to the road with a shrug. “I wouldn’t say I’m happy. I’m just content that we’re going to solve this thing. Now that we’re on our own, we’re going to focus.”

  “Focus? You think I haven’t been focused? I’ve spent years trying to figure this damn mystery out.”

  “How about this, then?” he said. “I’m optimistic because we’re together. We’re a good team. The last time we worked a case together we were so damn good the Russian mob came after us.”

  “And that was such a plus.” He was infuriating and yet she found herself smiling at him.

  “Call it what you like, but we’re perfect together.”

  He focused on the road again and she fell silent. She should probably disagree . . . but she didn’t.

  The minutes rolled by as she looked out on the moonlit bayou. Silvery beams illuminated the still waters of the swamp. Every now and then it reflected off the light from creatures’ eyes. She shuddered.

  “Can we talk about us now?” Dax asked softly.

  She wasn’t ready, though she’d started to believe that at some point she might be able to discuss that with something other than sarcasm and cynicism. “Not yet.”

  He was quiet for a moment, the only sound between them the pounding of the Jeep against the pavement. “All right. Let’s talk about the fact that someone warned us today. Any idea who?”

  She’d heard the same thing he had. “It was a woman. I don’t know. It was chaotic and she didn’t yell out after that. From what I can tell, they were both across the street from my building.”

  “Why would they have two agents across the street from us and why would one sell the other out?”

  It was a question she’d been asking herself. “I don’t think they were together. One of the buildings across the street is a good two stories taller than the other. Whoever called out to us must have had the better vantage point. I suspect she’d positioned herself on that taller building. She took multiple shots at him, I’ll bet with the handgun. The guy with the rifle was directly across the street from us, so his perch was closer to my window. That’s why he had an easy time throwing those Molotov cocktails into my place. The competing gunfire had ceased by then.”

  “She obviously wasn’t there to kill us.”

  “Agreed. I wish I’d gotten a look at her. Unfortunately, that whole running-for-our-lives thing got in the way. That really rankles.”

  It did. It made her restless that she’d been so vulnerable, that not one but two people had been watching them. If Dax hadn’t been there, she would have hauled off in hot pursuit. With him by her side, she’d had more than herself and her pride to think of.

  She’d sat quietly in the bar of one of the larger hotels while texting her uncle and trying to figure out who would have warned them. While they’d waited for the Jeep Connor had arranged she’d come to terms with the fact that her only real concern in that moment hadn’t been herself or her apartment or even the files.

  It had been Dax.

  At the end of the day it didn’t matter how tough she was. She was a stupid girl at heart. She was still foolishly pining for a boy. No, a man. She could trust him with her life, just not with her heart.

  “According to the directions, we’re not far now,” Dax said as he turned again, this time onto a one-lane dirt road so narrow that trees brushed the sides of the Jeep as though reaching out to pull them into the thick gloom of the swamp. Wherever they were headed, it was isolated.

  “Did your uncle mention how much of the building was lost?” Dax asked.

  “The good news is the fire department got there quickly. Uncle Beau thinks there’s no real structural damage. He was there when the fire department arrived, and he signed all the paperwork for me. He’s going to send in an engineer to make sure. He’ll keep in touch by e-mail, but at some point he’s going to want to see me.”

  “Let’s give it a day or two.”

  “How’s your mom?” It was so much easier to talk about family than the elephant in the Jeep. They hadn’t talked about that kiss yet or the fact that if some asshole hadn’t started shooting, she very likely would have surrendered to Dax on the balcony. She would have spread her legs wide without a word of protest and welcomed him inside because she hadn’t cared about anything in that moment except being close to him.

  “So far, so good. I tried to get her to go to D.C., but she’s being stubborn.”

  All the Spencers were stubborn. It seemed to be bred into their DNA.

  Finally, a building came into view, illuminated in the twin lights of the Jeep. She couldn’t make out many details in the surrounding dark, but at least it wasn’t one of the small fishing camps that dotted the bayou. It looked like a cabin big enough to actually live in. The door opened and out stepped someone she hadn’t seen in years.

  “Is that Connor?”

  Dax stopped the Jeep and killed the engine with a smile on his face. “Asshole didn’t tell me he was already here.”

  “Maybe he came out this afternoon.”

  Dax shook his head. “Nah. He’s probably been here since I hit New Orleans, waiting for the minute I needed backup.”

  He hopped out of the Jeep. In the moonlight, she watched Dax point a finger at his friend, stalking closer. Then the two men did that manly hug, beat-on-each-other’s-back thing.

  Connor had come all this way because he wouldn’t leave Dax without backup. When was the last time she’d had a friend like that? Probably Joy.

  Or had she pushed away another true friend because the woman happened to be Dax’s sister? She brushed the thought aside and exited the Jeep. With Connor here, she was firmly in Dax’s world again and she would have to remember that they weren’t really alone. Only she was. He was surrounded by people who loved him. She’d lost those a long time ago.

  Even as she hopped out of the vehicle, she saw Connor size her up. Dax’s best friend had always been a deep one, the dark to his light. Dax always seemed so sunny while Connor obviously preferred the shadows. Sometimes she thought it would have been easier if she’d fallen for Connor. That man would never have pushed her for more than a good time in bed.

  She wondered what his wife was like. It was hard to imagine him married. Likely she was as dark and emotionless as Connor appeared.

  “Holland,” he said, nodding her way.

  “Hello, Connor.” Yes, it was going to be an awkward reunion all the way around, but then what did she expect? Dax’s friends had spent years hating her for the way she’d hurt him. Just because she’d had good reasons didn’t mean they would stop. “If you’ve set aside a room for me, I’ll just go and get comfortable while you two catch up.”

  A faint hint of a smile creased Connor’s mouth. “That will have to wait. My wife decided to cook dinner. I’m so sorry, man. I hope you ate earlier.”

  His wife was here? So she would have to put up with some cold-as-ice chick who had likely been taught to hate her on sight. Awesome.

  “It’s not that bad,” Dax said. “It’s just very vegan.”

  The door opened and a slight figure stepped out. Lara Sparks was wearing a bright sundress, her dark hair piled in a messy, ten-pound updo of curls on her head. Even in the dim light, she could see the woman had huge blue eyes.

  “Holland!” Petite Lara came at her with a smile and pulled Holland into an embrace, her head resting on Holland’s shoulder. “It’s so good to meet you. You’re like the missing piece of the family.”

  Holland looked to Connor, utterly surprised by his affectionate, vegan bride.

  He simply shrugged. “Yeah, let her get it out of her system. She’s a hugger.”

  Lara’s head snapped up and she turned her husband’s way. “Human beings need physical affection, and after everything Holland’s been through, she likely needs a good hug, especially since she’s been exiled for so long for a crime she didn’t commit.”

  “She was in New Orleans. No one sent her away,” Connor pointed out.

  Lara stepped back. “She’s Dax’s one true love.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Holland didn’t want to mislead Lara.

  “She’s right,” Dax said with a nod. “I’ve learned that Lara has a deep understanding of the people around her. I think because of all the yoga she does.”

  Lara glanced between Holland and Connor with a frown. “Connor, don’t you want to give Holland a hug to welcome her back into the family?”

  Holland shook her head. “He’s already said hello. We’re cool.”

  Connor’s face broke into the most open smile she’d ever seen on the man. He stepped forward, and before Holland could protest, he’d put his arms around her. “I never argue with my wife. I’m sorry it’s been so long, Holland. But you’re a dumbass who should have asked for help three years ago.”

  “Connor!” Lara protested.

  Holland laughed and hugged him back, feeling better than she had in forever. “You’re the dumbass, Sparks.”

  He nodded and stepped back. “Maybe. I definitely shouldn’t have listened to his drunk ass when he claimed you were the devil. Come on in, Kirk. I brought along some Scotch. Let’s all sit down and have a drink and figure out what the hell we’re going to do. Oh, and you can meet Freddy.”

  Lara nodded. “Give me a minute. I need to make sure he’s not in firing position.” She jogged back into the cabin. “Freddy, it’s all right. They’re not feds. Or aliens. Just Dax and his one true love.” A low, masculine voice rumbled before Lara spoke again. “Okay, so she’s kind of a fed, but the good kind. Yes, there is a good kind, mister. There is good in everyone, damn it. Well, all right, you have a point. There’s no good in Reticulan Grays.”