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help.”
    â€œMy help?” Sarcasm edged her words. “I’m the last one to help anyone, pal. My place of employment is going up in smoke, and I’m pretty sure I won’t have a job tomorrow. Find someone else.”
    â€œThere is no one else. You’re the last Stone Singer alive.”
    â€œAnd I intend to stay that way.” She turned away.
    â€œYou could hear me out.”
    She laughed, a brittle sound that implied the cynicism of a survivor. “No, thanks.” She started walking toward the end of the alley.
    He scowled after her. His leg ached like a bitch and his back promised he would pay for his athletics inside the store later, and now she was leaving him in the dust? “Listen, lady,” he called after her. “I just risked my butt to get you away from the crazies in there. That should count for something.”
    â€œAppreciate it!” She waved a hand, not even looking back as she kept walking.
    He cursed under his breath and went after her, half hobbling. “They’ll never leave you alone, Faith. You know that. Don’t you want to be free from them?”
    She spared him a glance as he caught up to her. “Of course. Which is why I’m out of here.”
    â€œHey.” He took her arm.
    She jerked from his grasp. Stumbled back a step. He reached out to catch her and froze when her green-eyed gaze pierced like a blade. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”
    He held up his hands. “Just trying to get your attention.”
    â€œYou have it.” Muscles tensed, she focused on him with unnerving intensity. Her defenses had slammed into place with an almost audible clang, but not before he’d caught a taste of what she was trying to hide.
    She was afraid of him.
    More than you’re-a-stranger-I-don’t-know-you afraid, but just a hair away from bone-deep I’m-scared-you-might-kill-me afraid. He’d seen the last in his volunteer work at the homeless shelter. Battered women, abused children, rape victims. That type of terror lingered on the tongue like a mouthful of coffee grounds, never forgotten.
    Who had hurt her?
    A familiar tune barely reached his ears but drifted loud and clear through his mind. She was gathering power to shield herself, coaxing it from the Earth. The energy transfer rippled like seductive hands over his body … which responded in the most inappropriate way possible.
    He tamped down on the unwanted sexual urges. Residual Warrior emotions. Had to be. And even if it wasn’t, he refused to jeopardize their objective by hitting on the only person who might be able to tell them anything about that mystical stone sitting at home in his family’s vault.
    The Stone Singer was too important to risk.
    He stepped back to give her space. A loose rock sent his foot skidding, wrenching his leg at exactly the wrong angle. His knee seized up, jagged shards of pain twisting his nerves into barbed wire all the way up his spine. He muttered a curse, blinking to keep the blackness at bay, and grabbed his knee, massaging the swollen flesh around it with one hand as he tried to balance himself on his cane with the other.
    The melody faded in his mind, and he glanced up at her. She watched him, still poised for flight but a little less scared. His lips twisted. Guess he didn’t pose such a threat after all. Kinda hit a guy right in the ego. But if it got her to trust him, he would roll with it.
    And if any of this was going to work, he needed her to trust him.
    He straightened slowly, his vertebrae clacking into place like a roller coaster climbing the first incline. His leg protested, his muscles rebelling against his commands to straighten, to stand. But damned if he was going to end up flat on his back.
    â€œI didn’t know you were hurt.”
    â€œOld injury.” He shrugged. “Hand-to-hand combat wasn’t on my agenda this morning, and I should have known better. Some ice and