Oh, hell, no. Nick was going to be pissed enough at the damage. He’d go berserk if she let them steal his car. She stumbled, the motion swinging her around to the front of her captor, and she clutched him for balance. Her fingers closed over his belt buckle. A slight bit of energy filled her, and when his partner turned to see what was happening, she lashed out with a rear kick to the side of his knee.
He shouted and fell. Riley dropped, pulling the other guy down with her by his belt. He flailed, letting go of her and removing contact with the rings, but she had momentum on her side and a few of the tricks John had taught her. She swung her legs up and back, pushing him over her head. He landed in a heap on the ground, unhurt but vulnerable when she scrambled to her feet and spun to kick him. The glancing blow to his skull only had her normal strength behind it, but he curled onto his side and didn’t move.
Riley hurried to the passenger door of the Charger and clambered in, throwing herself over the gearshift to the driver’s seat. The damaged car was still running but groaned when she put it in gear and tried to pull away from the sedan that had T-boned it. She had to steer right, along the shoulder, and then swing left to go around the wreck and the man shouting at her. He limped after her as she fled while his friend still lay on the ground.
Riley forced the tension out of her hands and shoulders, loosening her grip on the wheel and shifting to get more comfortable in her seat. She was okay. She was only ten minutes from help, and those guys couldn’t follow her now.
But her energy level drained rapidly. She could barely see the white line on the shoulder. The sun reflecting off the barrier between lanes bleached out everything around her. The GPS instructions came from far away, and she risked letting go of the wheel to bump up the volume dial on the side. Twice she took a left instead of a right and had to backtrack. Her mouth was so dry her tongue stuck to the roof, and her lips burned as if chapped raw. She could feel herself fading toward unconsciousness and had to force herself to concentrate.
And then there it was ahead of her, at the end of a sandy lane, a cottage on stilts right on the beach. She pulled into the driveway, idling up along the side of the house. Brake to a stop. Put it in park. Shut off the engine. Open the door. She put one leg out and fell the rest of the way onto the ground.
The last thing she saw before it all went black was Sam. She was safe.
Chapter Fourteen
Our centuries-old purpose is funded by and founded on trust. The men who dedicated their lives to forming the Protectorate ensured our mission would never be compromised due to a lack of sufficient income. It is our duty to ensure the integrity of the Protectorate remains as strong.
Riley woke, lying on her side, in a dark room. Awareness came slowly, her brain sluggish and sore. Her last memory was falling out of the car after the near-abduction on the highway. She looked around, moving just her eyes. The dark room was a bedroom. Soft bed, velvety quilt under her, light and homey scent in the room. Like vanilla and icing, not perfume. No place she’d ever been before.
The closed door muffled loud voices. Riley couldn’t hear any words but recognized Sam, Quinn, and Nick yelling at each other. She must be at Chloe’s. A switch clicked behind her. The room dimmed, and Riley rolled onto her back to see an older woman emerge from an en suite bathroom. She smiled at Riley and raised the window shade next to the bed. Sunshine didn’t pour directly in but filled the room with light.
“What’s going on?” Riley croaked as she sat up. Her head throbbed, and clusters of muscles in her neck and back spasmed. She moaned and put her hand to the back of her head.
“To convey the obvious, Nick’s in the stratosphere over his car. Sam thinks the way you arrived means someone’s after you, and he wants everyone out of here ten minutes ago. He alternates that with threatening Nick if he threatens you. Quinn’s a little riled after the transfer, so she’s irritated at both of them and yelling at them to chill. And I’m Chloe. It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled and held out a hand.
Riley shook it, wincing both at what she’d been told and at the pain of moving. “How long was I out?”
“Just a few minutes. I did a diagnostic, but I didn’t try to heal you yet. That’s another thing they’re fighting over. Quinn wanted to do it, but Nick refuses to let her, and Sam says Quinn can make her own decisions. Which,” she added, leaning forward conspiratorially, “is being contrary, because Quinn’s definitely not up to it yet, but Sam’s in a right state about your condition.”
“Okay. Um…” Riley wasn’t sure where to start. The transfer seemed a good place. “It worked, then? You’re whole?”
Fine lines in the corners of Chloe’s eyes crinkled, and they shone with enthusiasm. “Oh, yeah. I’m ready to take on the world. I’m fresh, and basic healing was always one of my abilities.” Her expression turned earnest. “But all I’ve had time to do so far is toss a few muffins.” She mimed throwing a baseball. “I feel normal, but I have no idea what will happen when I try to use it. So I wasn’t going to do anything without your permission.”
Riley needed to assess her own condition first. She swung her legs around, bending her knees to avoid kicking Chloe where she squatted next to the bed, and gasped at the pain stabbing through her low back and right hip. She’d never hurt so much in so many places. “You said you did a diagnostic. How bad am I?”
“Slight concussion. Muscle strain in the neck, thoracic spine, and right hip,” Chloe catalogued. “A few scrapes—elbows, one hand. The wrist injuries that are a couple of days old seem mostly healed, but there are newer, similar-looking burns on the heel of one hand.”
Riley glanced down at it, now registering the sting. She hadn’t channeled energy for as long as she had with the chains, but the massive amount on that final push against the car had done its damage, too.
“I’d send you to a chiropractor,” Chloe finished, “but I can slide the spine into alignment, too, and ease those muscles faster.”
Riley nodded, as curious about the process as she was eager to get rid of the pain. This was a bigger task than when Quinn healed her forearm burns, the majority of her injuries untreatable except by time. “Go ahead. And thank you.”
Chloe closed her eyes and put her hand on top of Riley’s head. After a few seconds, the throbbing slowed, then eased, and her brain stopped crowding the inside of her skull. Chloe moved her hand to the back of Riley’s neck, then slid it slowly down her spine. As she did, the aches and sharp pains disappeared, and Riley would have sworn she even felt her vertebrae clicking into place. The skin at her elbows, wrists, and palm tickled, and when Riley checked, the flesh there was smooth and undamaged. There were still faint marks from the chains, but the healing was far more complete than what Quinn did the other day.
“Wow.” Riley stood. The only remnant of the “incident” was a dragging fatigue. She reached for the iron scrollwork of the headboard but froze, having to push past the instinctive fear before she touched it. It wasn’t hot—it wouldn’t hurt her unless she let it. Sure enough, when she made contact, the metal was cool and comforting. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, drinking in the refreshing energy. When she released the scrollwork, the energy settled into her. The fatigue wasn’t gone, but her body had absorbed enough to keep her going for a little while.
“Thank you.” She sank back down onto the bed. The fight still raged in the other room, and she wanted to talk to Chloe before she joined it. “How are Quinn and Sam doing after the transfer?” She deliberately named Quinn first, but Chloe gave her a knowing look.