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As long as we got inside without being spotted, we should be good. Xavier, my dhampir head of security, was loyal to me, not my father. Five years ago I’d rescued Xavier from a dicey situation in Mexico City, and he’d turned around and rescued me the next day. I’d offered him a job and he’d been with me ever since.
It was the getting inside without being spotted that was the tricky part.
I ducked into a doorway and worked the phone from my pocket while trying not to jar Ridley.
Xavier answered immediately.
“It’s me,” I said, low-voiced. “Don’t act surprised. And don’t say my name.”
“Okay.”
“Is anyone with you?”
“No.”
“Good.” I glanced around, calculated we were roughly two miles from my loft. “I’m in the city, about twenty minutes away. Is anyone watching the building?”
“Not since last night. Something big went down. I don’t know if you heard.”
“I heard. But okay, perfect.” I released a relieved exhale. “Wait on the top floor for me. I’ll come around the back and ring the bell. I’ll be in the shadows, so you won’t see me. Buzz me in, then open the door to my loft. But only you, understand? Don’t tell the others.” Besides Xavier, my security team had three other members.
“Understood. Just in case, I’ll send Katie out front to create a diversion. We’ve been doing it off and on just to keep them busy—and to cover you when you finally came back.”
And that right there was why I loved the man.
“Good thinking. See you in twenty.” I ended the call and set off for the Meatpacking District.
My T-shirt was soaked with Ridley’s blood. I glanced over my shoulder, hoping we weren’t leaving a trail. We weren’t. Not yet anyway.
At least the sun was up—still hidden behind the skyscrapers, but up—because a vampire would be able to scent that much blood a block away, and the same went for a dhampir.
I couldn’t walk the entire two miles with a bleeding woman in my arms; even a New York City cop wouldn’t turn a blind eye to that. I flagged down a cab and climbed inside, settling Ridley carefully on my lap.
She moaned; a low, hurting sound that hit me in the heart.
The cabbie frowned at me in the rearview mirror.
“Drive.” I let the vampire-blue into my eyes. “Syndicate business.”
His mouth dropped open. “Yes, sir.”
“Drop us on the corner of Ninth and Fourteenth. Chelsea Market.” I named a corner a block from my building so he wouldn’t know our true destination. “And take it easy. She’s hurt. I don’t want her getting banged around.”
The cabbie’s swallow was audible. “Yes, sir.”
I made Ridley as comfortable as I could, her head supported in the crook of my arm, her legs on the seat. Her skin was pale, her mouth tight with pain, and dark bruises had bloomed on her cheek and jaw.
I set my lips to her temple. “Hang in there, badass. We’re almost there.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “I’m…fine.”
I huffed a laugh. “Sure you are.”
Back there in the tunnels when I’d turned and seen that bastard stick Ridley with his knife, the bottom had dropped out of my world. I would’ve gladly taken the blade myself.
I pressed a kiss to each of her closed eyes. Without her trademark energy, the inner vibrance that made her seem so much more than she was, she felt too light, almost fragile. Too damn breakable.
My chest squeezed like she’d reached inside and grabbed my heart—and that’s when I knew I was holding my mate.
