In the garage, as they peeled away in a stolen SUV with sirens wailing behind them, Kira finally let herself breathe. Her hands shook. Dane covered one with his own, his thumb tracing her pulse point.
He pulled back, breathing ragged. “The chip can wait. The hunters can wait. Right now, I need to be inside you, or I will actually lose my mind.”
The safe house smelled of ozone, stale coffee, and the metallic tang of fear.
“Dane,” she breathed, her hand inching toward the plasma pistol under her desk. lora leigh books
“Then why are you here?” she whispered.
And for the first time in her life, Kira Vance wasn’t running. She was home.
He pulled the SUV into a dark tunnel, killing the engine. The only light was the faint glow of the chip between them. In the garage, as they peeled away in
Kira Vance hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours. Her fingers flew across three keyboards, lines of encrypted code reflecting in her haunted, silver-flecked eyes. She was a phantom—a data runner who didn’t officially exist, hunted by a rogue faction of the government that had created her.
She hesitated, then reached into the hollowed-out spine of her laptop bag. A single, crystalline data chip glowed faintly blue.
“So are you.” He reached over, gently wiping a gash on her forehead. The gesture was achingly tender for a man who’d just killed six people. “Tell me the truth, Kira. When you escaped two years ago, did you take something from the lab?” He pulled back, breathing ragged
“You’re bleeding,” she said.
Far below, wolves howled—not in warning, but in welcome.
Dane’s grip on the wheel tightened until the leather creaked. “And you’ve been hiding this for two years? Alone?”