Where the hell was Cole? She glanced at the open office door. Lancelot gave a high pierced cry, then the snarling and terror sounds of man and beast suddenly stopped. She dashed for the bushes, but skidded to a halt when the dog shot into the open. A man vaulted from the bushes and collided with her. She stabbed him with the knife, feeling the blade strike rib-bone.
He fell back, but leveled his Ratmil at her. She ducked, lunged forward, and tackled him. She chopped the nerve bundle at the shoulder of his gun-arm. His arm went limp, but he still managed to grip the weapon. She straddled his waist, grappling for the gun. An instant later, Lancelot’s booming bark rang in her ear. The Shepherd snapped and caught her opponent’s sleeve in his teeth. The man swung his gun, landing a hard blow across Lancelot’s shoulder, but the dog held tight. Jesse blocked the next blow, using momentum to twist the man’s arm around and pin it to the ground beside his ear.
A sudden jolt struck her back, and she toppled forward, breast-first across his face. The bastard had kneed her! His teeth grazed the soft flesh below her neck. She bolted upright and raised the scalpel to strike. Lancelot released him and backed up, growling. Movement in the corner of her eye jerked Jesse’s gaze to the right. A boot slammed into her temple.
Black spots raced across her vision. Blurry movement registered again. She lashed out with a fist and contacted hard flesh. The man beneath her bucked, lifting her inches off his abdomen. Lancelot dove forward, nipping the man’s cheek. The man who had kicked her aimed at the dog.
“No!” Jesse cried in unison with a masculine voice. Cole .
The gun fired in a burst of three. Lancelot squealed and collapsed, blood seeping from his chest. Jesse lunged for the shooter and pummeled him with four punches before he hit the ground. The nine-millimeter skittered off into the grass. Cole rushed past and landed on the man she had left on the ground.
“You killed the dog!” Jesse shouted at the killer. She snap-kicked his ribs and felt a satisfying crack of bone. He started to roll away. She grabbed his collar and yanked him off the ground. “You son-of-a-bitch!”
His fist struck her ribs. Jesse lashed out with an elbow strike to his cheek. His head twisted right. She grabbed his hair. “I told Lanton what I would do to the person who sent our men to be slaughtered.” Jesse cuffed him hard enough to pull his hair free of her grip. He landed on his back and looked up with dazed eyes. “He let that little girl die, too.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Cole rising from the other unmoving thug. Jesse circled Lancelot’s murderer as he blundered to his hands and knees. “Now he adds the dog to his list of sins. I hope the two million pays for all the trouble I’m going to give him.” She stopped before the thug’s sagging head. “Go tell that bastard I’m coming for him.” She swung her fist as if pitching a softball underhanded, and caught him under the jaw. The man fell back, limp.
Jesse spun, dashed the few paces to Lancelot, and dropped to her knees at his side. She shoved her hands into his fur. His body felt warm—too warm.
She slid her arms beneath him and started to rise. An iron grip closed over her shoulder. She sprang to her feet, punched blindly, but missed Cole as he jumped clear. Their gazes locked.
“He’s dead,” Cole said in an even voice.
Chapter Twelve
Who was dead? Jesse flicked her eyes to the man she’d straddled. In her rage, she’d forgotten him. He lay flat on his back still breathing . Cole was talking about Lancelot. She dropped her gaze to his motionless body. Why was she so upset about a dog? Because Lancelot hadn’t done a damn thing. Neither had Maria or—
“What do you know about Maria Hamilton?”
Jesse wrenched her gaze back to Cole. “What?”
Had he read her mind? She couldn’t think. Her mind whirled with the easy chase from
He fell back, but leveled his Ratmil at her. She ducked, lunged forward, and tackled him. She chopped the nerve bundle at the shoulder of his gun-arm. His arm went limp, but he still managed to grip the weapon. She straddled his waist, grappling for the gun. An instant later, Lancelot’s booming bark rang in her ear. The Shepherd snapped and caught her opponent’s sleeve in his teeth. The man swung his gun, landing a hard blow across Lancelot’s shoulder, but the dog held tight. Jesse blocked the next blow, using momentum to twist the man’s arm around and pin it to the ground beside his ear.
A sudden jolt struck her back, and she toppled forward, breast-first across his face. The bastard had kneed her! His teeth grazed the soft flesh below her neck. She bolted upright and raised the scalpel to strike. Lancelot released him and backed up, growling. Movement in the corner of her eye jerked Jesse’s gaze to the right. A boot slammed into her temple.
Black spots raced across her vision. Blurry movement registered again. She lashed out with a fist and contacted hard flesh. The man beneath her bucked, lifting her inches off his abdomen. Lancelot dove forward, nipping the man’s cheek. The man who had kicked her aimed at the dog.
“No!” Jesse cried in unison with a masculine voice. Cole .
The gun fired in a burst of three. Lancelot squealed and collapsed, blood seeping from his chest. Jesse lunged for the shooter and pummeled him with four punches before he hit the ground. The nine-millimeter skittered off into the grass. Cole rushed past and landed on the man she had left on the ground.
“You killed the dog!” Jesse shouted at the killer. She snap-kicked his ribs and felt a satisfying crack of bone. He started to roll away. She grabbed his collar and yanked him off the ground. “You son-of-a-bitch!”
His fist struck her ribs. Jesse lashed out with an elbow strike to his cheek. His head twisted right. She grabbed his hair. “I told Lanton what I would do to the person who sent our men to be slaughtered.” Jesse cuffed him hard enough to pull his hair free of her grip. He landed on his back and looked up with dazed eyes. “He let that little girl die, too.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Cole rising from the other unmoving thug. Jesse circled Lancelot’s murderer as he blundered to his hands and knees. “Now he adds the dog to his list of sins. I hope the two million pays for all the trouble I’m going to give him.” She stopped before the thug’s sagging head. “Go tell that bastard I’m coming for him.” She swung her fist as if pitching a softball underhanded, and caught him under the jaw. The man fell back, limp.
Jesse spun, dashed the few paces to Lancelot, and dropped to her knees at his side. She shoved her hands into his fur. His body felt warm—too warm.
She slid her arms beneath him and started to rise. An iron grip closed over her shoulder. She sprang to her feet, punched blindly, but missed Cole as he jumped clear. Their gazes locked.
“He’s dead,” Cole said in an even voice.
Chapter Twelve
Who was dead? Jesse flicked her eyes to the man she’d straddled. In her rage, she’d forgotten him. He lay flat on his back still breathing . Cole was talking about Lancelot. She dropped her gaze to his motionless body. Why was she so upset about a dog? Because Lancelot hadn’t done a damn thing. Neither had Maria or—
“What do you know about Maria Hamilton?”
Jesse wrenched her gaze back to Cole. “What?”
Had he read her mind? She couldn’t think. Her mind whirled with the easy chase from
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