“Brian, no!”
The violin case crashed to her feet and she vaulted over it racing after Brian. Two steps later, the tip of her right shoe clipped the edge of a pothole and she fell to her knees. She was still scrambling to her feet in the middle of the street as Brian reached the limo. Abby screamed again, this time at the top of her lungs, as the thug spun around and grabbed her brother by his hair, bashing the side of his head into the passenger window with enough force to shatter the glass.
A split second later, tires squealed.
Abby froze, then jerked her gaze to her left. It was a mistake. She was instantly blinded by the twin headlights bearing down on her. Before she could move, a wall of solid muscle slammed into her from behind, mercifully wrenching her out of the way of the fishtailing car before tackling her to the far side of the street. Pain exploded inside her skull as her head smacked into the cement curb.
“You okay?” The man above her asked.
“Y-yes—”
“Good.” He held her down. “Stay down.”
She couldn’t have disobeyed if she’d wanted to. Her vision was fuzzed and her balance was nonexistent. She crammed every ounce of strength she had into a single plea as the nausea threatened. “Please, help my broth—”
The limo roared to life, drowning out the rest.
It didn’t matter. Her tackler had already jackknifed off her body and vaulted after the car. It happened so quickly, she never even saw the man’s face. She had managed to place his voice, however. But by then it was too late.
She’d already passed out.
Chapter 3
The second the limo peeled away, every muscle in Dare’s body bellowed for him to whirl about, to sprint back up the street and haul Abby into his arms. To cradle her close and drag her out of the darkness that was swallowing her whole.
But he couldn’t.
Abby was fine, dammit. He’d known it even as he’d felt her slip completely away from him and into the numbing void of unconsciousness. She’d taken quite a crack to her temple and had passed out from the shock.
Her brother had not.
Dare reached Brian’s side, stunned by the intensity of his emotions. Brian was on his knees, his fingers clawing into the back of his neck as he rocked himself deeper and deeper into a fetal position in a desperate attempt to absorb the horror of what he’d seen. Dare had yet to touch him and already he could feel every nuance of roiling terror, the utter betrayal and confusion reverberating throughout Brian’s soul. He reached out and touched Brian’s shoulder.
Before Dare could draw his next breath, Brian whirled about, instantly accepting his silent offer. With no choice but to follow through, he bent and hefted Abby’s brother into his arms, carrying him over the shattered glass and blood. He would need peace and quiet to absorb enough of Brian’s horror to pull him from his shock and restore Brian’s mind. As much peace as he could find in this place of violence and death. Dare stopped several yards up the street as two women rushed in to see what they could do about the man he’d left behind. He didn’t bother telling the women their ministrations would be useless. Like Abby, the limo driver had already slipped into unconsciousness. But unlike her, the driver would not be recovering. And the moment Dare deepened his connection with Brian and absorbed the unexpected brunt and depth of Brian’s frantic need, he was forced to admit—
There was a chance he might not recover.
She was lying on something cold. Hard.
Cement?
Abby forced her eyes open and struggled to focus amid the onslaught of flashing lights and the hazy sea of blue.
“Take it slow, Miss Pembroke.”
A man’s voice. One she didn’t recognize. But he knew her name. She closed her eyes, then reopened them.
Her vision began to focus. She was lying on a sidewalk and there was a cop leaning over her, police lights strobing around her. She tried moving again. This time the cop helped her to sit up, tightening his grip as she succumbed to a sudden wave of dizziness.
“I’ve got you, ma’am.”
“T-thank you. I—I’m okay now.” She stared at the man’s face as his hands fell away. It took a few seconds and her vision was still a bit fuzzed, but she was able to make out the rest of his features. Dark red hair. Eyes that matched the blue in his shirt and in those ruthless lights.
Young. A kid, really. In a way, he reminded her of—
She stiffened. “Oh my God, Brian. He’s—”
“Fine.” The cop patted her arms. “Your brother’s okay, I promise. Physically. I have to warn you though, he was pretty shook up. Wouldn’t let anyone but your neighbor near him.”
Neighbor?
“Dare?” Uncertain, she’d breathed his name. Was he really here? Had he saved her from that car?
Saved Brian?
The cop nodded. He held out his hand, caught her fingers when she missed his grip and squeezed gently. “Officer Ryder, ma’am—John Ryder. My partner and I were on Broadway when we heard the crash. Unfortunately, it was over by the time we got here. Do you remember what happened?”
Crash?
Jarring, dichotic images stabbed through Abby’s mind, assaulting her so deeply she’d swear Schoenberg himself had stitched them together, but none involved a crash. The limo, yes. That hulking thug. A bloodstained knife. Shattered glass.
Her brother’s head.
She closed her eyes. It didn’t help. “Brian…he tried to keep that man from—” She stopped, swallowed firmly. She dragged in a breath in an attempt to clear her head, but instead of fresh air, she ended up with the latent exhaust from the police cruiser six feet away. Her head throbbed harder. She raised her hand to try and stave off the latest wave of dizziness and discovered a lump at her temple. Something wet slicked the side of her face, too, soaking into the curls that’d been pulled free from her braid.
Sweat? Or blood?
Brian.
She didn’t care if the world was still spinning, she had to get to Brian. She had to see for herself he was okay. She tried to stand, but the cop held her down. “Please, I n-need to see my brother.”
“In a minute. But first—” Ryder withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against her throbbing temple for several moments, nodding as he pulled it away. “The paramedics are tied up at the moment. Don’t worry, though, a second ambulance should be here soon.” As if on cue, she caught the faint wail of a siren as he reached into another shirt pocket, this time retrieving a small notebook and a pen. The wailing grew louder as Ryder stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket and knelt beside her. “Ma’am, I know you’re shook up, but I need to ask you a few questions. It’s important if we hope to catch this guy. Mr. Sabura wasn’t able to get a clear look at the perp. We were hoping you could describe him. His face, clothes, coloring? Any distinguishing features?”
The dizziness increased as she shook her head. The nausea and throbbing followed close behind.
She closed her eyes and counted to five.
The latter eased.
She kept her hand cupped to her brow as she opened her eyes. It helped with the dizziness, at least. “No. I mean, I didn’t see him either. Not really. Dark hair, a dark suit, but I can’t be sure. He was in the shadows. The guy was huge, though. Like he lifted weights or something—” She broke off as the wailing turned to deafening shriek. The promised additional ambulance was almost on top of them now. Seconds later, it turned off Amsterdam, mercifully killing its siren as it came to a stop somewhere off her right.