My stomach rolled, then rose. Swallowing back bile, I raised his arm so that the flow was lessened, then gingerly picked up the detached digit, wrapped it in some plastic I found on the desk, and headed back to the door. Once through, I ran like hell down the tunnel for the next door. I barely got that one open when my stomach rose again, and this time there was no stopping it.

It wasn't until the very last second that I realized there was someone standing on the other side of that door.

And by then, it was too damn late.

Chapter Thirteen

Vomiting is never a pleasant experience, but it's even less so when you don't know if the person sidestepping the projectile is friend or foe.

I mean, how can you defend yourself when you're chucking your heart out? It's impossible. Truly impossible.

The only way I knew I was safe was the mere fact that nothing happened in the time I had my head buried in the bushes. It was only when I leaned against the wall to steady myself while I sucked in great gulps of air that I caught the odd scent of earth and air. Iktar. Neither friend nor foe, but somewhere in between.

But he wasn't the only one here. Awareness shimmered across my skin, a warmth that went deeper than mere knowledge of presence, touching me in a way so few did.

Quinn watched and I felt a whole lot safer.

"Here." I dug into the bag and retrieved the notebook, then held out the bag to Iktar. "Your controls and some keys. Knock yourself out."

"Thank you." He accepted the parcel warily, but the glow in his eyes was that of a man who finally saw the ending of a nightmare. "I am in your debt, more than you could ever know."

"No, buddy-boy, you're in the Directorate's debt, and you may live to regret that." Because I had a feeling Jack would like at least one of Iktar's mob on his "new" team—and the old one.

He shrugged. "It cannot be any worse than being held prisoner by a madman, or being killed off one by one in his insane missions."

Except that the Directorate and insane missions often went hand in hand. Hell, why else would Gautier love the job so much?

"The maintenance crews are fixing the circuit breakers as we speak," he continued softly. "You have ten minutes, if that."

"Then I'd better get my butt into gear." I pushed away from the wall and wiped a hand across my mouth. There was nothing I could do about the blinding ache becoming well and truly settled behind my eyes, but the bitter taste in my mouth was at least fixable. All I had to do was find a tap.

"Hope you get your people out safely, Iktar. And be careful with those controls."

His smile held little amusement. "We have someone who can disconnect these. We will be gone before dawn." He held out a hand. "Thank you again."

I clasped his hand and shook it. His fingers were cool against mine, his skin smooth and leathery, like a snake's. Not unpleasant, but not something I wanted to touch on a regular basis.

As he walked away, I glanced at the trees again then went in search of a garden tap. I placed my stolen thumb and notebook out of the water's way, then rinsed out my mouth and washed the blood from my skin.

Though I heard no sound, the caress of warmth told me Quinn was close. He stepped free of shadows and said, "You look a mess."

"You always say the nicest things."

My voice was dry and amusement touched his dark gaze. "Need some help?"

"Yes. I have to rescue a baby and destroy a lab." I scooped up a final mouthful and drank it, then turned off the tap and picked up my stolen goodies. "The fire exits apparently come out in the trees behind the gym."

"Lab? Not the main ones, I suppose?"

"No. How'd your tunnel hunting go?"

"Came to a dead end. Or, more precisely, a metal door." He hesitated. "I waited the day out there, but no one ventured down from either direction."

"Bugger."

His shrug was all elegance. "The bad guys do not always play the game the way we might wish."

"Well, gee, thanks for that news bulletin."

He smiled, and my hormones did their usual little jig. Annoying, but then, a werewolf's hormones didn't usually give a fig about appropriateness or timing. "There were a lot of guards entering the forest when I came out, though."

"And you didn't stay to investigate? Why?"

He glanced at me. "I felt your pain."

"Ah. Thank you."

Which seemed totally inadequate, but what else could I say? Thanks for caring, but you really should have seen what those guards were up to? I wasn't that much of a bitch. Well, technically I was, but not in the way humans used the word.

"Can I ask why you're gripping a bloody thumb and notebook?"

"Most secure areas around here are thumb and number coded. A thumb is easier to drag around than a guard."

"Hence the vomiting."

"Hence the vomiting," I agreed. And holding it, feeling the coolness beginning to creep into the severed flesh, even through the plastic, had my stomach spasming all over again.

"Would you like me to hold them?"

I didn't even have to think about it, just handed them over. "Let's go, before they get the power back on."

We shadowed and ran around the house to the gym. Every footstep sent lances of fire stabbing deeper into my brain, and I wasn't entirely sure if the moisture running down my cheeks was sweat or tears.

There were guards everywhere, even here, outside the gym. Starr obviously didn't think the power outage was chance, and was guarding assets and exits—even the exits most knew nothing about. We stopped in the midst of the trees, out of the direct line of sight of the guards. We might be shadowed, but there was no point risking that these guards weren't more of Starr's enhanced humans, complete with vampire DNA that endowed them with a vampire's infrared. Quinn touched my shoulder to catch my attention, then pointed to the two guards on the left, his arm glowing like fire under the infrared. I nodded, and carefully made my way toward my targets, keeping downwind and as silent as possible.

I was nearly on them when a twig snapped under my heel. Both men spun, their guns rising fast. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. They didn't fire, simply scanned the darkness, their gaze slipping straight past. They couldn't see me and didn't have infrared.

Advantage me.

I stepped close—so close that any wolf or shifter would have smelled my scent—and lashed out with a bare heel, hitting the first man hard in the crotch. He went down with a wheeze of pain. The second man swung around, his expression a mix of surprise and wariness. I dropped low, sweeping again with my leg, knocking the second man off his feet. I grabbed the gun off the first man, flipped it around, and whacked the butt across the second guard's face. His head snapped back, and he was out to it before his head hit the ground. The first man quickly followed his partner into oblivion with just a little help of gun butt. I took the clips out of the guns and threw them both deep into the trees, but the guns I left after patting both men down to ensure they didn't have any more clips on them.

After rubbing my temples in a vague attempt to ease the ache, I made my way back to the fire exits. Quinn soon joined me. The bastard wasn't even breathing heavily. But then, I'd had a few more fights than him over the last few hours, and had lost my breakfast as well. Was it any wonder I felt weak and shaky?

Though I had a sneaking suspicion the cause for the shakes was more the lurking certainty that something was wrong. That the shit was about to hit, and everything we'd achieved so far was about to go down the toilet.

I took a deep breath to calm down my nerves. I had a job to do, and I'd better start concentrating on that rather than worrying over future problems and uncertainties.