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wrapped around her and Montana wondered—not for the first time—what the hell was going on with her life. The frantic thought was followed with swift speed by another one.
    What had she possibly done to make someone mad enough to want to kill her?
    Despite Quinn’s earlier questions, this wasn’t one of the run-of-the-mill crazies who resented her bank account or the high-profile nature of her family’s company. Something had changed in the last few weeks.
    This was more pointed, somehow.
    Targeted.
    This felt personal .
    She twisted to get a better view, but his large chest blocked all the drama. The only thing she could take in was Quinn’s heavy breathing in her ear and the increasing sound of steady footfalls as their pursuer moved toward them.
    Although he was supporting his weight on his forearms, Quinn also wasn’t moving off of her. “Quinn? Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine. I need you to listen to me. We need to get you out of here.”
    “I can’t leave you here.”
    “You will leave me here and get inside.”
    The helplessness she’d felt her entire life chose that moment to reach up and grab her by the throat. She was a good person. Strived to treat others well and with respect. She wasn’t better than anyone else and wealth and position didn’t change that.
    So why was her life more important than his?
    “Did you hear me, Montana? Inside.”
    On a sigh, she nodded. “Yes.”
    “I can’t let you get in his line of sight. When I lift off of you, I want you to crawl as fast as you can toward the back of the car. Use it as a shield, then head for the front of your building and get inside.”
    On a last plea, she whispered, “I don’t want to leave you here.”
    His voice was tough as he spat the words at her. “I want you inside. You can’t help me out here.”
    “I’ll call for help.”
    “Fine. Just get out of the line of fire.”
    She knew that’s what he did for a living. Knew he protected others. So why was it so hard to process his orders and think of leaving him there to face this monster?
    “Now!”
    Quinn’s voice brooked no argument as his body lifted off of hers. She felt him tense, then heard a muffled curse emitted on a grunt of pain against the side of her head. Just as before, in the ballroom, her hair suddenly crackled with static and those odd tingles that reminded her of when her arm or foot fell asleep ran through her body.
    What was that?
    And then there was no time to think about it as her fierce protector urged her on. “Go!”
    She scrambled out from underneath the shield of Quinn’s body, unsure of what had caused his muffled curse but innately understanding he wouldn’t want her to stay and find out.
    The footfalls of their pursuer grew louder, but the other man was still too far away to touch them. Did he have a gun? Was that what had made Quinn curse?
    And then there were no more questions as Quinn’s deep voice urged her on. “Remember what I said. Keep moving toward the front door and get inside. Don’t stop.”
    As her heeled feet slapped against the hard sidewalk, her breath coming in deep, heavy pants, Montana couldn’t stop herself from looking back. Nor could she do anything to stop what came next as the large man bent down toward Quinn.
    Feet firmly planted, Montana watched as a large ball of light flared from between their two bodies.
    A gunshot?
    On a muffled scream, she ran into her apartment building, desperate for help.

Chapter Three
     
    Quinn pushed at the large body of the Destroyer, the asshole’s fetid breath nearly dropping him to his knees. Damn, did these guys ever bathe? This one smelled like he’d spent a month down in the subway tunnels.
    With tactics honed over millennia of battle, Quinn slammed his body upward, dislodging the Destroyer’s hold with practiced skill. The tattoo of a bull—his signature marking as a Warrior of Themis—twitched from its place on the back of his shoulder, desperate to get out and join the