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“What did we do to you, siren?” With his free hand he reached out and brushed her hair back from her cheek, his fingers following the line of her delicate ear.
“She was stabbed. Three days before her mother’s death.”
Shane’s announcement, delivered with a growl of rage, had Sebastian freezing. “Right side. The blade pierced her lung, significant blood loss. The lung was stabilized, blood transfusion. They nearly lost her hours later but managed to revive her.”
Sebastian couldn’t breathe. Horror raced through him.
“The night we headed here, fuck me they had to revive her twice, ’Bastian.”
That made no sense. The lung wa
s stabilized, blood transfused. The wound shouldn’t have caused her to slip away from them once, let alone twice.
“Exhaustion.” Shane’s voice was lower, so thick that his Texas accent almost slurred the word. “Anemia. The overriding concern is the infection that developed, though.” The file clattered to the floor. “It isn’t good, ’Bastian. She’s not fighting to live.”
Sebastian swallowed tightly, his gaze locked on Alyssa’s face as fear surged through him.
“The hell she’s going to give up,” he snarled, his hand cupping the side of her face as he pressed her fingers closer to his cheek. “You can’t give up, siren. Not now. We fixed it, baby. We fixed everything. You’re safe now.”
A heartbeat later he and Shane were both moving as the French doors pushed open. Positioning themselves protectively between Alyssa’s still form and the small, black-clad, armed young woman who entered the room. Sebastian kept his gaze on the amused expression and brilliant violet eyes staring back at them.
“Well now, are we havin’ a party?” The southern accent was heavy with anger, those violet eyes snapping dangerously. “Little late, aren’t you?” she queried with a lift of graceful midnight brows. “Like by maybe six years?”
Shane watched her carefully, recognizing the accent, the way she held the weapon, and her unique eyes. Summer Bartlett was well known to both of them as was her connection to Alyssa and her family.
“Stand down, Belle.” Shane ordered firmly.
Belle. The CIA asset had trained in Spain for several years. Once they’d even worked with her for a very brief time. They had known she was Alyssa’s friend, but she’d never mentioned it, and they had forced themselves not to.
Belle smiled, a hard turn of her lips that wasn’t encouraging.
“Do you know how hard it was to keep from killin’ the two of you in Italy?” she asked with savage amusement. “Several times, it would have been so easy.”
“Stand down, Belle,” Shane repeated the order.
She rolled her eyes in disgust. “Darlin’, this aint a Company assignment,” she assured them. “This is personal.” Her voice hardened. “That’s the most important person in my world layin’ in that bed. And I’ve watched her grieve like a widow for six years. I think it’s high time she has a real reason for all that grief. Maybe if she buries you, she’ll get over you.”
The bloodthirst in that little hellion’s gaze was a bit concerning. And she had just enough training that it wouldn’t be easy to take her down. Unless they killed her; that would be easy. But if Alyssa knew her, then their little siren might not speak to them when she woke. For a while anyway.
“Or will she follow us?” Sebastian asked softly. “If she takes her last breath, you won’t have to worry about killing us, Belle. We’ll follow her. There would be no saving us. Can you be certain she wouldn’t do the same?”
He struck a nerve. Belle’s gaze flickered with concern, with pain. If Alyssa was that important to her, then how important was she to Alyssa?
“I really want ta cap your asses, ya know,” she sighed, though a hint of tears filled her voice. “And that wouldn’t be nearly enough to pay you back for what you’ve done to her.” She blinked back the tears, her lips tightening as they trembled with the threat of those tears falling. “You destroyed everythin’ she was. Every dream. Every part of her exceptional soul. You should burn in hell.”
They should burn in hell? Fuck, that was all they knew. Hell.
“We do. Daily,” Shane was the one to assure her.
There could be no hell greater than feeling Alyssa’s siren’s song calling out to them, filled with so much pain, with such overwhelming need that the only way to deal with it was to drown their senses in booze. And even then, she was there. Whispering to them, her tears burning their souls.
This woman had no idea how closely they were tied to their siren.
Belle, Summer Bartlett, the petite Georgia native with the seductive drawl and perfect aim. She’d been like a shadow in Italy, one of the best covert agents in training Shane had seen. Until now, he hadn’t even known Belle possessed emotions, let alone tears.
But those were tears she was fighting now.
“I hate y’all, you know that, right?” she whispered.
