Raluca rinsed and spat again.
“Okay, hang on. I have —” Nick broke off, then deliberately spoke loud enough for the entire room to hear. “Your medicine, you know, the antidote for that stuff you’re allergic to.”
Nick reached into his pocket. His fingers closed on empty space where the vial of heartsease had been. Someone had picked his pocket. “Fuck!”
“I have more in my purse.” Raluca’s voice was clear and calm, but Nick, with his training and experience and wolf senses, caught the pain she was hiding.
“I’ll get it,” a waiter said. “What’s your name?”
“Katarina Petrescu.”
The waiter bolted for the purse check area, but Nick had a bad feeling about Raluca’s supply. He patted his shoulder holster, then his pants pocket. His gun and wallet were still there. Only the heartsease had been taken.
Nick hadn’t seen Lucas until weeks after he’d recovered from being poisoned with dragonsbane, but the hell he’d gone through had been visible in the shadows under his eyes and the stiffness of his posture. That went away eventually, but Lucas still got a thousand-yard stare every time he even heard the word “dragonsbane,” the same way Shane did with “black ops.” Lucas had underplayed it, of course, but when his mate Journey had said he’d nearly died, she’d only been voicing what everyone could see.
If Raluca hadn’t swallowed any of the dragonsbane, she wasn’t in danger. She’d even be able to shift if she needed to, if she’d rinsed it all off her skin. But the inside of her mouth would burn like fire until she could take the antidote. If she had swallowed some...
A stab of pain went right through Nick’s chest as he scanned the room, guarding Raluca in case the poisoner had an alternate plan. The waiter was already bolting back with her purse, or Nick would’ve already grabbed her and run for it.
Raluca snatched her purse, opened it, and looked in. Her expression of shocked dismay said it all.
“It’s okay,” Nick said, as much to the onlookers as to her. There was no telling how much the assassin knew already, so he planted a mislead. “I’ve got extra meds in the car. Then we’ll drive to the hospital, just to be sure.”
He swept her up into his arms. She was lighter than he’d expected of a woman of her height, an armful of delicate gauze and cold gems and burning, living skin. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest. As he turned to run, he saw her thrust something from her purse into the waiter’s hand, but had no time to see what it was.
Nick bolted out the door, holding her as close as possible to shield her with his body in case of snipers, shouting, “Medical emergency! I need the Dodge Viper!”
Someone had apparently already alerted the valets, because his car pulled up just as he got outside. Nick lifted Raluca into the passenger seat, took a final hasty check for assassins, then dove into the driver’s seat. As he peeled out of there, Raluca again reached i
nto her purse and threw something out the window, to or at the valet.
“What was that?” Nick gasped. He was going pedal to the metal along the narrow road that twisted down the hill, alternating quick glances at Raluca and the rear-view mirror.
“His tip,” Raluca said, as if it was self-evident.
Despite their desperate situation, a startled laugh burst from Nick’s lips. “Now?”
“I doubt we’ll be back,” Raluca explained.
“Were you tipping the waiter, too?” Nick asked.
“Yes, of course. He certainly earned it.”
“Not if he poisoned you,” Nick said grimly.
“Oh, surely not...” Raluca’s eyes narrowed, then began to burn silver. “No, you’re right. It’s possible. Maybe he retrieved my purse just to remove the heartsease.”
“Could be.” Nick swerved the Viper along a roundabout, then on to a busier street. He darted in and out of traffic, making last-minute turns so fast that his tires smoked and screeched. “How’re you doing? Can you tell if you swallowed any of that shit?”
Raluca’s hesitation told him all he needed to know. Nick bit his lip until he tasted blood, forcing himself to concentrate on the road. As far as he could tell, they weren’t being followed. But there might an ambush waiting for them outside Protection, Inc., if Raluca’s enemies had figured out that she’d gone there. It was an easy deduction to make, given that she used to be engaged to Lucas.
“Do you know how much?” Nick asked, once he trusted his voice to stay steady.
“Very little, I think,” Raluca replied. “Perhaps one drop, perhaps less.”
Nick swerved onto the freeway. “How do you know? Tell me exactly what you’re feeling. This isn’t the time to be fucking proud.”
“I know that, Nick!” Raluca snapped. “And I still don’t like that word.”