Walsh stepped forward. “So sorry, Quinn. But Eve here has been selling you as quite the formidable opponent. I couldn’t take the chance.”

Eve tried to run to Joe, but Walsh held her back.

“He can still survive, but you need to be smart, Eve. I promise you, my next bullet will finish him.”

She whirled back toward him, her eyes glistening. “He did everything you asked,” she said fiercely.

“That remains to be seen. Open the package for me, Eve. Let’s see your creation.”

Eve turned toward Joe. He was doubled over on the ground, pale and in pain. She wanted to run to him.

Walsh shoved her toward the package. “You’re wasting time.”

Eve knelt on the ground, just feet away from where Joe lay. She pulled away the mosquito netting and froze. She looked up and locked eyes with Joe.

“Well?” Walsh said.

Eve turned and raised the reconstructed skull in Walsh’s direction.

He lowered his gun and stepped toward her, his gaze fixed on the skull. He had that odd expression on his face again.

Fear. Awe. Anger.

Eve slowly reached down into the folds of netting and picked up the present Joe had hidden for her there.

His 9mm Beretta.

She gripped the handle and whirled around, firing at Walsh.

The first shot hit him in the shoulder. His gun flew from his hand.

The second shot grazed his temple.

Walsh screamed in pain and ran into the woods.

Eve kept firing until the cartridge was empty. She grabbed Walsh’s gun and turned back toward Joe. “I need you to walk. Can you do that for me?”

He shook his head, and whispered, “Go. Run.”

“No way. Not without you.” She linked her arms underneath his and dragged him out of the clearing.

His eyes fluttered. She was losing him.

She tore off her overshirt and pressed it against his wound. “Hold this here. I’ve called Nalchek. He should have been here by now.”

She punched the number. The buttons became sticky with blood. Joe’s blood.

“Nalchek,” he answered.

“Where the hell are you? Joe’s been shot. We need help now.”

“You’ll get it. The police helicopters are on their way.”

She cut the connection and turned back toward Joe.

She fell to her knees beside him.

Blood.

Staining his shirt. So much blood.

“They’re coming, Joe. He said the helicopters are on their way.”

“I think … I hear them.”

So did Eve, but so far away.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Shh, it’s okay, Eve.”

“It’s not okay,” she said brokenly. “Dammit, he shot you.” She was frantically searching for the source of the blood. “You shouldn’t have done it. Not any of it. And you stood out there and let him shoot you.”

“Knew it wouldn’t be … a kill shot if … he wasn’t sure he had the skull.”

“You didn’t know, you took the chance. And you took a chance he’d have me unwrap the skull.”

“It would have been … hard for him to unwrap it and keep an eye … on both of us. Reasonable…”

“There wasn’t anything reasonable about it. You shouldn’t have done it. We should have left when I asked you to do it. I told you that reconstruction wasn’t important. Not in comparison to—” The wound was in the upper right chest.

How deep?

Don’t think about it. Just stop it.

She applied pressure. “Keep breathing. Don’t go to sleep. I’m going to keep you with me, Joe. There’s no way I’ll let you slip away.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His smile was faint, and so was his voice. “You bet you won’t. Gone through too much together … Wouldn’t let a scumbag like Walsh get between…”

“Just hold on. Those helicopters are closer, almost on top of us. They should— Joe!” His eyes were closing. “Don’t do that!”

“I won’t let you down. Promise. Just for a little while…”

He was unconscious.

But not dead, she thought frantically. She could feel the beat of his heart beneath her hand. He was alive, and he’d stay alive.

She wouldn’t let him go.

*   *   *

Son of a bitch.

Walsh’s foot slammed down on the accelerator, and the car jumped forward.

He could feel the blood trickling down his cheek and the searing sting from the bullet Eve Duncan had fired at him. An inch more, and the bitch would have blown his head off.

She had taunted him and gotten in his way, then had almost killed him.

The rage was tearing through him. It wasn’t enough that he had, at last, probably taken down Joe Quinn. He had to have Eve Duncan. He had to show her how superior he was to her. He wanted to crush her, destroy everyone she cared about, then show her how much pain he could inflict.

Die.

She had to die.

In the most agonizing way possible.

CALIFORNIA PACIFIC MEDICAL CENTER

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

“You look … beautiful,” Joe said.

Eve opened her eyes and leaned forward in her chair toward the hospital bed. “Awake at last? You must still be woozy from the anesthesia if you think that.” She took his hand. “The surgeon said that the operation went very well, and you’re definitely out of danger. How do you feel?”

“You are beautiful. More … beautiful than usual.”

She chuckled. “I’ve already addressed that comment. No one but you would ever think I’m anything but interesting-looking, and it’s so dim in here, I’m sure you can barely see me. Now let’s talk about—”

“Interesting is beautiful.” He smiled. “And I can see you well enough to see your strength and the way you hold your head and the set of your lips. I think I was dreaming about you before I came around, and you defied every expectation. You always defy expectations.”

“Bullshit.” But even recovering from surgery, Joe was behaving oddly. “What is this all about, Joe?”

He chuckled. “How suspicious. Every word is true.”

“And?”

“Maybe I wanted to distract you a little from agonizing over this wound that’s causing me a few problems. When I opened my eyes, I could see all the strain and the edginess.”

“A few problems?” she said harshly. “You were out of control. You could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t, thanks to your very nice shooting that put Walsh on the run.” He tilted his head. “Of course, I was being exceptionally skillful myself, but I have to admit you saved the day.”

“I don’t care about saving the day.” Her hand tightened on his, her voice uneven. “I only care about you. I could hit you. Don’t you ever do that again. I told you that we weren’t going to take any chances. Yet you strode off like some kind of Gary Cooper wannabe gunning for your own personal High Noon.”

“Not entirely personal. You wanted the skull.”

“It was personal,” she said fiercely. “You’ve told me that everything between us is personal. I know that, but I can’t stand the thought of your risking—” She broke off and drew an uneven breath. “And you can’t tell me that you didn’t want to try to take Walsh down. You didn’t care about the risk.”

“Wrong,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have risked leaving you alone with Walsh out there. I would have pulled back if I hadn’t thought I could do it.” He lifted her palm to his lips. “And I did do it, didn’t I? Or rather, we did it. Was there any damage to the reconstruction?”

“A little. But it won’t take me more than a few hours to repair it.” She leaned closer. “But I don’t want to talk about the skull. I want to talk about promises. I can’t stand the thought of this happening again. I want your word that you won’t—” She stopped. He was shaking his head. “Joe, dammit.”

“You won’t get it. Why are you even trying? This is who I am. Every bit of me belongs to you, but I can’t change who that person is.” His hand tightened on her own. “Hey, do you think that I don’t want to run your life so that you’ll be safe forever? Sometimes I try to do it. But I’m never going to ask you to be someone else because sometimes I get scared. I’ll just work around it.”