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Tempting
by Myla Jackson
Chapter
One
Reggie Gallagher ducked
behind the last in a row of dumpsters and braced her
hands on her knees, dragging in huge gulps of air. Sweat
ran down the side of her face, and the black ribbed-knit
tank top clung to her breasts. The coastal humidity
and heat acted like a steam bath even when she was standing
still. For the moment, all she could hear was the ragged
gasps of her breath wheezing in and out of her straining
lungs. And despite the retched stench of the waste beside
her, she welcomed the respite from the chase.
Where was Madison? She'd
been right behind Reggie until now.
The quiet of the alley
was broken when pounding footsteps entered and raced
toward her.
Risking a stealthy glance
around the hard metal corner of the dumpster, Reggie
confirmed the runner, and she reached out to snag her
and pull her in beside her.
"Can't…stop."
Madison bent low, her shoulders heaving with the effort
to fill her oxygen-starved lungs.
"Breathe,"
Reggie ordered and tapped the miniature headset positioned
inside her ear like a hearing aide. "Where the
hell are Jordan and Mike?"
"It's…as…if…they
disappeared." Madison sucked in air and gushed,
"Ah, shit! I can't breathe. I don't know if those
guys saw me turn down here, but they can't be far behind."
"Then let's go."
Reggie shot another glance around the corner of the
dumpster. The alley was empty. She waited another second
and then grabbed her sister's hand, pulling her along
behind her.
"There!" The
shout of one of their pursuers echoed off the brick
of the multi-story structures rising up from their concrete
foundations. The buildings spread over entire blocks,
channeling Reggie and Madison through the worst part
of Houston, leaving few places to hide or take cover.
How had the mission gone south so fast? Where was their
backup?
"They'll catch
us at this rate," Madison shouted, between gasps.
"Gotta split up."
"No!" But
before Reggie could tighten her grip, her younger sister
pulled free and swung left, sprinting west away from
the downtown area.
Reggie glanced back
at the group of six men closing in behind her. If she
played her hand right, they'd follow her and leave Madison
alone. The fastest runner on the team at the Paranormal
Investigative Agency, she could outrun every man, except
perhaps the boss. Tanner was made of iron and muscles.
No one could outrun, out gun, or outsmart him.
But if she wanted to
live, Reggie had better make it her goal to beat all
of his records and then some. She just hoped the hell
Madison got away.
Summoning every last
ounce of energy, she punched out, running straight for
two blocks to ensure the bad boys behind her wouldn't
branch off and pursue her sister. Just as she was about
to veer east, a shot rang out and something hard and
fast slammed against her left shoulder, spinning her
around so quickly she crashed into the brick corner
of an office building.
Surprise numbed the
pain for the first five seconds until her heart resumed
function, kicking her blood through her body and out
the small hole the size of a quarter on one side of
her shoulder. A glance backward confirmed the exit point
was a lot bigger. Her stomach lurched, and the pale
glow of the streetlamps dimmed. No. She couldn't pass
out. Not now. Have to run. Have to get farther away
from Madison.
As fog crept in around
her peripheral vision, Reggie rounded the corner she'd
been aiming for and set off at a swift jog, her pace
slowing more each time her heels hit the pavement.
No. This couldn't happen.
She would not be another one of the victims she risked
her life to protect. No way would the gang members or
bloodsuckers take her down like they'd done her father.
Heartless bastards!
All of them.
Although Tanner said
there were good vamps out there, Reggie had it firmly
in her mind that the only good vampire was a dead vampire.
She repeated the words like a cadence, motivating her
legs to keep pumping and her feet to continue moving
away from her attackers.
The only good vampire
is a-" With only half a block between her and the
six men, she reached the end of the street and swung
a hard right, running into a solid wall of steel. Her
forehead made contact and then her chest, knocking what
little air was left from her lungs. The force of the
collision made her bounce backward, her head snapping
up. With no air to sustain breathing and her vision
blurred, the ground sucked her downward. As her knees
buckled, her mouth completed her sentence, "-dead
vampire."
"I like to think
of it as the living dead." A deep voice with one
of those guttural, and incredibly sexy, foreign accents
filled her senses, and strong arms reached out to catch
her before she hit the pavement.
Her brain cloudy from blood and oxygen loss, Reggie
was thankful for the strength of the man in front of
her. But she had to get away. Those men would catch
up and do who knew what to her. How the hell had the
ambush they'd set up for the gang turned into a trap
for her and Madison? Where was the rest of her team?
The gang had been waiting
for them as if they knew she and Madison were the bait
and they'd be alone. How had they known? The entire
situation stunk. Could there be a snitch on the inside
at PIA? Would Reggie and Madison end up missing like
the thirteen young women to date?
Bull shit.
She and Madison weren't
victims. They were the good guys sworn to catch the
filthy scum taking advantage of lone women.
Reggie struggled against
the vice grip holding her chest-to-chest with the stranger.
When she tried to right herself, her head swam, and
her knees refused to engage enough to hold her upright.
"Let me go,"
she said with more bravado than conviction that she
could stand on her own once released.
He chuckled, his chest
vibrating against hers. "If I do, you'll fall."
Footsteps rang out on
the streets behind her, and her body stiffened. "Let
me go!" No matter how strong this guy was, he couldn't
go against six men and hope to win. For that matter,
Reggie didn't know if he wasn't one of them. Had she
run right into the enemy?
The men rounded the
corner and skidded to a stop, their leader at the front-Cesar
Dominguez, a man Reggie knew from the mug shots on file
at the agency and the snake-dragon tattoo on his right
arm. He carried a nine-millimeter pistol and had it
pointed at the man holding her.
That settled one question
in Reggie's numb mind. Her rescuer wasn't one of the
gang she'd set out to capture. She would have sighed
her relief, but she still didn't know who the hell he
was.
"Let me have her,
and I won't shoot you," Cesar said, stepping forward.
Her captor paused, not
like a hesitation, but as if to make sure his answer
was understood. "No." A single word, no negotiation,
and no compromise.
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