Chapter Four

I raced back to Jessie’s apartment. I had to stop her before she blabbed too much. Before she blabbed anything. Realizing I could find myself at the business end of her weapon, I came prepared this time, strapping a stun stick to my side under an extra-long hoodie.

I got to her apartment and pressed my ear to the door. I didn’t hear any noise coming from inside. I zapped the keypad with my handheld. The lock clicked as it opened, and I held my breath, waiting to see if the quiet sound would catch her attention. When nothing happened, I cracked the door open and listened. All quiet.

I widened the door and stepped inside to chaos.

Tables lay upended. Cottony fluff ripped out of sofa cushions covered the floor like snow. Cupboards had been ransacked, their contents strewn everywhere. Artwork, and even electrical plates, had been torn from the walls.

Where was Jessie? Were the intruders still here? Gripping the stun stick, I crept to the door leading to the bedroom. Flattening myself against the wall, I peered into the bedroom. Vacant, but it too had been torn apart. The mattress, pulled from the bed, had been sliced open. The nightstand lay on its side, its drawers flung across the room. The closet door stood wide open; clothing had been tossed onto the floor. Drapes had been pulled from the window.

This wasn’t the result of a search—it represented frustration and anger from a fruitless search. When they didn’t get what they’d come for, they’d torn the place apart.

I peeked into the bathing chamber. Nothing here appeared to have been touched. Either something had scared them off, or they hadn’t considered the room significant. Or, they had found what they’d come for after all. My gut tightened.

I fingered a towel hanging on a rack. Damp. I recalled she had showered before I’d confronted her. The clothes she’d worn, an Arasetan tunic and leggings, were folded on the bathroom counter. I wadded up the garments, shoved them into my pocket, and reentered the bedroom.

Where is she?Did she leave before the others got here, or has she beentaken captive? My heart stuttered with an emotion best avoided. Feelings could not interfere with what I needed to do.

The first time I’d laid eyes on her, she’d impressed me with her courage and determination. Her appearance matched her personality—no nonsense. She had a low-maintenance haircut, perceptive green eyes, a stubborn chin, and a lean, athletic build curved in all the right places. She was a woman who meant business.

But she had no business in my business. Why the zigqat has she gotten involved?

Admiration I could handle, but not compassion or concern. Caring rendered me vulnerable and could be used against me. Compassion would distract me, cause me to hesitate, make mistakes—like giving her an opportunity to shoot me. I spotted drips of blood on the floor. I knelt and touched it. Tacky, partially dry. Mine, I hoped. I didn’t want to consider it might be Jessie’s.

Had she left the building before the others arrived, or had she still been here? Maybe she’d escaped. She had a weapon, an effective one, as my still-throbbing arm could attest. She could have fought them off. Or had they managed to disarm her?

A low growl came from under the bed platform.

I crouched and peered underneath. Jessie’s cat hissed at me. “I’m a threat to many, but not to you, James,” I said in a soothing voice. Unconvinced, the cat growled and bared its sharp teeth.

“Let me take you next door. Your mistress isn’t coming home.” I couldn’t leave the animal to starve to death. I reached out to grab it, and it raked its claws over my hand.

“Zigqat!” The scratch began to bleed. I brought my hand to my mouth. “You are too much like your mistress.” I didn’t have time to coax the animal. I had to get to Jessie before they did. I didn’t dare contemplate what it would mean if they already had her.

“Moktu,” I apologized, adjusted the stunner to the lowest shock setting, and touched the animal. It jerked and went limp. I pulled the cat out and cradled its furry body. Angry-scared yellow eyes almost the color of my own vowed retribution when the paralysis wore off.

Padding to the neighbor’s apartment, I quietly unlocked the neighbor’s door. I shoved the animal through, eased the door shut, and hurried away.

James would be safe. Jessie was another story.