A thump sounded from the next room. I went still, my gun rising.

“Olivia?”

I climbed back over the rubble to see Gabriel crouched at the basement window, his arm and shoulder through it, knocking against the frame with a glower, as if he could break it wider.

“You won’t fit,” I said.

He glowered at me, as if the situation was now my fault for choosing too small a window. Then he looked away quickly, and I remembered I was wearing my jacket over my bra. I zipped it up.

“Sorry,” I said. “My shirt was sacrificed for emergency first aid.”

His gaze traveled over me, assessing. My arm was hidden under the jacket, and he said, “Ms. Madole?”

I made a noise that could be taken as assent. His mouth tightened, as if now annoyed that I’d given up my shirt for an injured stranger.

“Come, then,” he said with an impatient wave, and I hesitated, trying to get a better look at his expression. The shadows and the night stole it, leaving my chest tightening, and as I made my way to him, all I could think about was the last time I’d been in trouble and I called him.

But he’s here now.

Yes, and he doesn’t look pleased about it.

When I walked over, he reached down for me, only to realize his hand fell short. He grumbled and scowled, as he pushed his head and arm through the window.

“I can get out,” I said. “Just back up.”

He ignored me and reached down far enough for me to grab his wrist. I started taking it with my right, and a stab of pain reminded me why that wasn’t a good idea. I gripped it with my left instead, and used my feet to scramble up the rough wall as he hauled me through.

“Use both hands,” he said.

“I—”

He grabbed my other wrist, and I hissed against the wrenching pain. He didn’t notice, grunting with exertion as he hauled me out. Once I was through, I bent over, pretending to catch my breath, as I bit my lip and tried not to whimper at the pain.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“Pulled a muscle. Give me a second—”

He took hold of my arm and pulled it straight. His hand closed around my biceps, and a yelp escaped me. He yanked my arm out of my sleeve. It was wet with blood.

“Goddamn—!” He bit the uncharacteristic curse short and took a moment, fingering the makeshift bandage, getting his temper in check before saying, “Next time you are injured, Olivia, please inform me before I inflict additional damage. Do you have anything in the car? A proper first aid kit?”

I shook my head.

He made a noise, like a growl, gripped me by my good arm, and started leading me down the lane like an errant child.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Considering the number of times we’ve needed first aid, we should both have a kit in our vehicles. We’ll pick those up tomorrow. For now, I have no idea where to find the nearest pharmacy. I don’t know this neighborhood, and I suspect you don’t, either, so I would appreciate it if you used your phone to search for one while I watch for trouble.”

“I meant I’m sorry for calling.”

“You did not call. I did.”

“I know, but I asked you to come—”

“You did not ask. You did not call or ask.”

“You’re angry,” I said. “Is it—?”

“I understand why you did not call, Olivia. I understand why you did not ask. If I am angry, it is not with you. Now, quickly, please. We cannot be sure your attackers have left, and our voices echo—”

A woman’s scream cut him off. I yanked from his grip.

“Aunika,” I said.

“Perhaps. If so, let’s hope she can take care of herself, because you are injured.”

“I’m not leaving if—”

“Yes, you are. She was clearly the target, and I realize you won’t like abandoning her to her fate, but it is no more than she did to you. You are injured. She left you.”

“I cut my arm on the window after we split up—at my instigation.”

“No matter.”

He gripped my arm and resumed walking. When I stood my ground, he stopped and glared at me.

“I know you don’t care,” I said. “I do, but not enough that I’d go tearing after her if I was in danger of bleeding out. My arm is temporarily fine, and I’d like to at least assess the situation before we leave.”

“Assess,” he said after a moment. “That is all, correct? We assess the situation.”

“Umm, the purpose of assessing is to make a decision, meaning it’s not actually an end point in itself, Gabriel.”

His look said that if he wished it to be an end point, it damned well would be, but he only followed me in the direction of the scream.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

We wove through the maze of industrial decay, keeping away from the street lights as we headed to the river. The fog made that even tougher, as it settled in, increasingly thicker as we approached the water’s edge.

We came out at a rotting wharf, half fallen away. A barge floated past with its lights smothered by the fog. I watched it go by as Gabriel hovered behind me, ready to snatch me back if I leaned closer to the edge.

When I caught the sound of voices, I whispered, “Do you hear that?” and he nodded. I backed up to the building and crept along it toward the voices. Gabriel stayed behind me. The moment one of those voices came clear, though, he had me by the arm and a stifled yelp from me had him whispering something that could have been an apology. He gripped the other arm and pulled me behind him. I peered around him into the night.