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“Zoe.” He laid her still form on the barren ground. Was she dead or alive? The cuffs were gone from her wrists. How was that possible? The blast had somehow obliterated everything belonging to the mage while not harming them. He pressed his fingers against her throat, unable to feel a pulse. “Come on. Breathe, damn it. Breathe!”

Not ready to give up, he yanked her shirt up and lowered his head to try to hear her heartbeat over the ringing in his ears. He was brought up short. Etched over her heart was the mark of the white wolf—the short-handled gray sickle. What the hell? He traced his fingertips over the outline of the tattoo.

Thump!

Hope surged within him. It was slow but her heart was beating. “Zoe, open your eyes.” He brushed her hair off her face and patted her cheeks. “Please. Let me see your beautiful eyes.”

A low groan passed her lips. “Isn’t that self-complimentary since our eyes are the same?”

Devlin began to laugh as a tear rolled down his face. There was his sharp-tongued woman. Her lids fluttered open. Afraid of hurting her, he gathered her into his arms, rocking back and forth.

“Are you okay?” Her concern pierced his soul.

“I don’t know how or why, but we’re both alive.” Somehow he’d gotten the miracle he’d begged for.

“I was dead.” Her voice was flat. “Or mostly. Caught in some in-between place, I guess.”

He peppered kisses on her face. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.” He scanned the area, detecting no others. Even the bodies of the wolves he’d killed were gone, disintegrated in the blast. Sirens screamed in the distance, getting closer by the second. An explosion of this magnitude would attract a ton of attention. “We need to leave.”

Getting to his feet was harder than it should’ve been because he wouldn’t put her down. He started walking away from the oncoming authorities.

Head resting on his shoulder, she toyed with his hair. “I can probably walk.”

“Humor me.” She’d died. That was the barebones truth. He picked up the pace, keeping to the shadows. It was late, but the closer they got to his truck, the more people there were about—criminals and addicts, partiers, and people who worked the nightshift. He avoided all of them. The last thing they needed was someone remembering them and maybe mentioning it to the cops. The total obliteration of a warehouse was going to be big news, even in a city this size.

He got her into the truck and finally had to release her to buckle her in. When he was settled in the driver’s seat, he checked the burner phone, but it was dead. The electrical storm had fried it. It didn’t matter. Either the van had been stolen or Charles was the money behind the operation. Tossing the device aside, he pulled out into traffic.

They were silent on the drive back to the hotel. Once the truck was in the parking garage, he grabbed a spare shirt from the backseat and pulled it on. No need to attract undue attention and walking across the lobby bare-chested would certainly do it, even in New York. With one arm wrapped around her waist for support, they kept their heads down and made their way to the elevators.

It seemed to take forever, but finally he unlocked the door to their room. The second he had her safely inside, he backed her against the door and slammed his lips down on hers.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Zoe grabbed Devlin’s shoulders and went up on her toes, giving herself over to the torrid kiss. Their lips melded again and again. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, tasting and teasing. Frantic.

They were both alive. Somehow, someway, they’d beat the odds.

She’d died. She should be exhausted, totally drained after the ordeal. Instead, every cell in her body vibrated, leaving her jittery and filled with an excess of energy.

And she knew exactly how to use it.

“Wait.” He pulled back, his chest heaving.

“Don’t want to.” She dragged his head back down, desperate to claim every part of him.

On a groan, he jerked back. “You’re killing me. We have to talk.”

“You started it,” she muttered. Her nipples were hard nubs and the throbbing between her legs wasn’t abating. He looked good enough to eat in torn jeans and a faded T-shirt. His hair was tousled where she’d tugged at it. His eyes were filled with concern, and there were frown lines between his brows.

Taking her by the hand, he tugged her to the bed. “Sit.” When she did, he crouched in front of her. “How do you feel?”

It was a legitimate question, all things considered. “Surprisingly good.” Which couldn’t be normal. She nibbled on her bottom lip. “What happened?”

For the first time in their acquaintance, he seemed hesitant, glancing away from her. “I’m not sure.”

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.“This isn’t some temporary reprieve, is it? I mean, I know I’ll die eventually, everyone does. Maybe not you, but you know what I mean.”Shut up, Zoe.Her nerves were ready to snap.

“I don’t know.”

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