“Keep your back to the wall,” he reminded her. Enemies could appear at any second. He was surprised they hadn’t already.
“Oh, right.” Catalina moved as he directed. She re-checked his breathing and pulse, then opened the kit and took out an airtight dressing.
He admired her professional deftness as she moved his hand aside and instantly applied the dressing, then neatly taped it down. “Good work.”
“It better be.” She touched his cheek. “You’re freezing. You need to get warmed up. Here, have some clothes from a guy who’s going to wake up cold and very confused.”
Catalina started to slide her arm under his back.
“I can—” Shane began, then found that in fact, he couldn’t sit up unaided. “This better not be a repeat of how we met.”
Catalina helped him sit up and lean against the wall. He managed to haul on the guard’s shirt and pants himself, but the effort left him alarmingly breathless.
“Just give me a second,” he muttered.
She kissed him, the brush of her lips feather-light. “You saved my life. If you hadn’t jumped him, I’d be the one with a bullet in my chest.”
A bullet in your head, Shane thought. Dr. Elihu hadn’t had time to shift his aim, and Catalina was much shorter than him.
With absolute sincerity, he said, “I’m glad I had the chance.”
The stillness was broken by a series of distant shouts, gunshots, and running footsteps. Shane didn’t waste his energy trying to get up. He could shoot perfectly well sitting down. Catalina crouched, ready to pounce, as Shane leveled his gun at the approaching enemies.
A familiar deep voice shouted, “Hold fire!”
“Hal?” Shane said incredulously.
The door at the end of the hall flew open as if it had been kicked. Hal stood in the doorway, nearly filling it with his burly frame. His brown hair brushed the frame as he ducked to step through without hitting his head.
He was followed by two more members of Shane’s team from Protection, Inc. Destiny came first, holding a big gun in each of her small brown hands. Nick followed. His shirt was ripped halfway off his back, exposing his werewolf gang tats.
Despite his physical chill, Shane felt warm inside. His team had come for him. He’d hoped they would— he’d believed that they’d try— but on some level, he hadn’t expected the cavalry to come. But here they were, shooting up a secret government base to rescue him.
“Hal Brennan?” Catalina said, a startled grin spreading across her face.
Hal and Nick came forward to crouch beside Shane. Destiny hung back, guarding the door. All of them spoke at once.
“Are you all right, Shane?” Destiny called, still watching the door.
“You look fucked up,” Nick pronounced, inspecting him. “What’s the matter with you?”
“You’re hurt,” said Hal. “Where?”
“Bullet in the chest,” Shane said. Identical expressions of alarm flashed across the very dissimilar faces of Hal, Nick, and Destiny. Hastily, Shane added, “I’m fine. Catalina treated me.”
“Whoa, no,” Catalina interrupted. Speaking to Hal more than to Shane, she said, “He is not remotely fine. I did some emergency first aid, but he needs an ER.”
Shane shook his head. “I can’t go to an ER.”
“You don’t have to,” Hal said. To Catalina, he explained, “We’re not too far from my hometown. There’s a doctor there who can take care of him.”
Catalina visibly relaxed. “Oh, the one who had him on life support. Yeah, that should be fine.”
“He told you about that?” Hal asked.
“When did you need life support?” Nick demanded. His green eyes fixed on Shane, intense and angry. “You never told us this place existed. Why didn’t you ever fucking mention that there was an entire fucking black ops agency gunning for you?”
“Nick,” Hal said. “Later.”