As he spoke, he heard the faintest shift of movement coming from somewhere nearby. It was muffled, but Rafe and Aric both stilled in recognition that someone else was there in the house with them.
Silently, stealthily, Rafe set Iona Lynch’s lifeless body down on the tiles and rose to his feet.
The soft rustle came again, and he followed it to the closed door of a bathroom just off the kitchen. Then he heard a low, pained moan.
He opened the door and found another woman lying in a fetal position in the corner of the cramped room. Petite as an angel, the strawberry blonde was dressed in black yoga pants and a form-fitting pink tank top rent off her shoulder from an obvious altercation. Only semiconscious now, her body was coming awake slowly from the bloodied contusion on the side of her head.
Blood spatter on the white porcelain sink indicated someone had smashed the woman’s head into the basin with enough brute force to knock her out.
Rafe stepped inside, and the woman’s lids lifted. Hazel eyes widened as soon as she saw him. Then her mouth dropped open in a terrified scream.
“It’s okay,” he assured her, moving carefully as she bolted fully alert now and scrambled as far away from him as she could get.
“Don’t touch me!” Panic and confusion filled her pretty face. “Stay away from us! Iona, run!”
“Shh.” Rafe shook his head, hands out in front of him to show her he meant no harm. “It’s okay now. You’re safe.”
She huddled deeper into the corner of the bathroom, her eyes as wild as a terrified animal’s. As she moved, Rafe spotted a small red birthmark beneath the rip in the side of her tank top.
A Breedmate.
Rafe hunkered down to her level, speaking gently. “We’re not going to hurt you. What’s your name?”
She frowned, still wary, her breast still heaving with her labored breaths. She blinked slowly, glancing down at the floor. “Siobhan.” A delicate name, spoken in a broken whisper that almost made it sound as if she’d said the word chiffon. She glanced up at him and tried again. “I’m Siobhan O’Shea.”
He nodded soberly. “My name is Rafe. And this is my friend, Aric,” he said, gesturing to the doorway where his comrade stood. “How do you know Iona Lynch, Siobhan?”
“She’s my roommate. Where is she? What did those men want with her?” The Breedmate swallowed, her hand coming up to the bruising lump on her head. She winced at the light contact. “Is Iona… Is she okay?”
Rafe didn’t answer. This young woman would see the grisly answer for herself soon enough. With Iona Lynch murdered, Rafe’s mission priority had just switched from locating a potential lead on Opus to protecting a key witness who was also a Breedmate in potential danger now.
He glanced back at Aric. “We shouldn’t stay here for long, and neither should Siobhan. Go call this in to headquarters, let them know what we found. Tell them we have an injured Breedmate on our hands who’s in need of a safe haven.”
CHAPTER 16
Brynne didn’t leave for London. It had only been an excuse, anyway. A flimsy one that Zael had seen right through—just as he’d seen through the rest of her attempts to wound him and push him away.
After her stinging end to the incredible time she’d spent naked with him in her bed, she had soaked for nearly half an hour under a scalding shower before sequestering herself in her guest room for most of the afternoon, feeling cowardly and petty.
The urge to run back home to London—to anywhere else—was strong. She felt weak from hunger and raw from heightened emotion. Neither of those things made her fit to be around other people, least of all the ones who meant something to her.
Not if she cared for their safety.
Not if she didn’t want to see horror and fear in the eyes of everyone who mattered to her.
Including Zael.
God, perhaps him most of all.
Her punishing shower and the hours of solitude afterward did little to assuage the bone-deep gnawing of her body’s worsening hunger. It also hadn’t lessened the disgust she felt for herself after the unfair way she’d treated the one man who had only shown her kindness and understanding since she met him.
Zael had a right to be angry with her after the cutting things she’d said.