Evidence of Passion (Shadow Agents 7)

“Rachel! Dylan!” Thomas pushed through the crowd. His gaze flew over them. “You need medics.”

She didn’t. Okay, her head had slammed into the concrete pretty hard when the blast had knocked her down, but she was fine. Rachel looked over at Dylan. Her breath expelled on a hard rush when she saw the dark splotches on his clothes. Blood. She’d been so happy to see him before that she hadn’t even realized he was hurt.

But Dylan shook his head. “We search the crowd. Now. He’s here.”

Cops were there. EMTs. A fire truck raced toward them.

“It was a bomb,” Dylan said, jaw hardening. “Set to go when I turned the ignition.”

She didn’t want to think about how close she’d just come to losing Dylan. Despite the heat from the flames, Rachel’s skin felt chilled.

She straightened her shoulders. “I’ll find him.” She took a step forward.

The world seemed to grow darker then. Was the smoke thickening? Her head throbbed, and her knees gave way.

Rachel would have slammed right into the ground again but strong hands caught her. She was lifted up, held tightly and a voice said, “I’ve got you.”

That wasn’t Dylan’s voice. Dylan didn’t have a faint Irish brogue.

She looked into Aidan’s eyes. Aidan looked stunned. Scared. His eyes were wide as he tried to settle her on her feet again.

Only her legs didn’t quite seem to be working the way they should.

“I heard the explosion. It reminded me...back in Ireland, there were so many attacks when I was a boy,” Aidan told her, pain echoing in his voice. His beard was gone and his face seemed to reflect the terror he felt.

Dizziness rushed through Rachel before she could respond to him. Her body swayed. This time Dylan was the one to steady her. “Rachel? Baby, what is it?”

Then Dylan’s fingers were sliding through her hair, and she jerked when he touched the spot that hurt and throbbed the worst. “Concussion,” he said. “Damn it, Rachel, you should’ve told me!”

It was a bump on the head. Nothing more. So small. She’d walked away from plenty worse.

But her legs weren’t walking now. And even though Rachel tried to talk to Dylan, she couldn’t.

Because the darkness claimed her once more.

* * *

“I’M LEAVING,” RACHEL SAID, her voice absolutely certain. She’d been in that hospital room for twenty-four hours—twenty-four!—and she was going stir-crazy.

A concussion. The doctors had been so worried because she’d passed out. Twice. They’d insisted that she stay put for observation.

She’d argued.

Dylan had told her to save her protests because she wasn’t going anywhere. Then Mercer had gotten involved, and Rachel found herself benched for twenty-four sickeningly boring hours.

But no more. She was dressed, and she was ready to bust out of that place.

Dylan stared at her. His wounds had been bandaged. She could see the edge of white tape around his arms. They’d both been so lucky. If they hadn’t moved fast enough—no. She slammed the door shut on that particular train of thought. She was not going there. She didn’t want to think of all the what-ifs that could have been.

Focus on the fact that you’re both safe.

She was also focusing on the fact that Dylan was finally back with her. After he’d gotten Mercer involved and they’d secured her at the hospital, Dylan had vanished.

“You’re the only reason I’m alive,” Dylan said as he came closer to her.

She rubbed her hands over her jeans-clad thighs. She’d already dressed because there was no way she was staying in that hospital any longer.

“How did he get access to the car?” Rachel asked. That had been worrying her.