Page 70 of Perfection

“We’re doing all that can be done,” he explained into the comm when his mother answered. “If Cal is still there, let me speak to him.”

The soft whir of the machines droned on as he waited.

Finally, he spoke, “What’s happening with Vi’s investigation?”

He listened, and as he did so, he angled his head to peer at her. She mouthed to him,Good question. The corner of his mouth pulled up to one side in a rugged show of acknowledgment. “Yes,” he said into the receiver, softening his voice as if trying to switch gears between a police lieutenant and a family member. “Stacey said Fiona didn’t have a doll.”

“Then what’s her connection?” Kindra said softly more to herself than to York.

York raised a brow but seemed engrossed in his own thoughts. “Right. We will want to examine the doll. Please bring it to Seville as soon as you can,” he said into the communicator. He ended the call as he waited for her to get into his air-car.

When he was settled behind the wheel, his grip tightened on the control stick. “Dammit. Who would be a sick enough bastard to do this to kids through toys?”

She couldn’t answer that. But being with him lessened the tension in body. She breathed deeply.

She was getting used to York’s driving. He drove fast, but with confidence and skill. And for some reason, she felt quite safe with him.

Her gaze slid sideways to observe his strong profile. His features were all angles and planes, and despite the rules, she longed to press her mouth to his chiseled jawline. When he’d kissed her earlier, she’d felt the prickly brush of his whiskers over her lips. Instead of being repulsed, she had been intrigued. A tingle sped through her body, and she wanted to experience it again. To savor the foreign feeling a little longer. To capture the sensation and internalize it.

The way he cared about the case, the children, touched her. He was a good man. She sighed.

Even with his obvious anger over the new vector of the deadly virus, his descent to the parking lot was controlled and perfect. If she didn’t know better, she’d assume it was under computer guidance instead of by the seat of his pants.

She waited until they were parked to say anything. “I take it Fiona had a doll?”

“No. But a friend does. Evidently, there has been a new ad campaign that recently revived their popularity.”

“Oh God… That’s just… There aren’t even words.” They got out of the vehicle and were almost to the elevator when she stopped abruptly as the information sank in. “You don’t think—”

“Of course the ad was intentional,” he cut in, finishing her thought. He halted when he realized she was a few steps behind him instead of at his side. He looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met and held, as each of them interpreted what this meant in terms of the investigation.

“I requested more cryo units be shipped here from nearby cities,” he told her.

She nodded. His eyes were so intense, so beautifully dark. She shook off the thought. It wasn’t important that his looks were even more appealing to her than when she’d met him several days ago.

Without warning, hot, searing pain crashed through her from her back to her sternum. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Tears welled in her eyes at the pain, then her gaze widened as she realized something was drastically wrong. Then whatever had held her hostage released her, and she collapsed at York’s feet as blackness carried her away.

* * *

Fear shot from York’s stomach up to his throat. He spotted the greenish yellow beam of the laser, barely visible in the well-lit garage, just before Kindra collapsed. She’d been shot!

He drew his own laser, crouched over Kindra, trying to shield her body as he scanned the area. The shooter could be out there, hiding in the shadows. He called for backup but didn’t dare leave Kindra. She came above all else.

After waiting several long minutes, during which time all he heard was silence, he determined the shooter must have fled. He holstered his weapon and knelt beside Kindra, lifted her head, and put his cheek close to her face. Her breath fanned his skin. Something inside him loosened. Good, she was breathing. He checked her body for the wound. A trickle of blood oozed from a gash on her left biceps. Most of the wound had sealed due to the heat of the bolt of energy. He patted her cheek. “Kindra? Kindra, wake up!”

Blessedly, she moaned. He checked her body for additional injuries, and when he confirmed she didn’t have any exit wounds, he sat back on his heels. The shooter must have had the laser gun on low or set to stun.

She moaned again and lolled her head from side to side. “What happened?”

“Someone shot you. Either they didn’t mean to kill you, or they didn’t know how to use a laser with its multiple energy frequencies” He took another quick glance around to see if anyone was watching.

Nothing.

Seeming unable to comprehend what he’d said—understandable, given a gazillion watts had just zapped her—she attempted to push up to her elbows. He placed his hand behind her back and lifted. She quivered with the exertion as she tried to stand.

“I’m so weak,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper.

He slid his arms around her waist, holding her up.