Shaw shook his head. “I don’t want them sedated,” he said coldly. “I want Devlin stone-cold sober when she starts screaming. I want him to hear her. Then I want him burned alive.” Hatred blazed in his eyes as he gazed at Zack. “I’ve waited two long years for this. By God, I want it to be worth the wait.”
Never in a hundred years would he have suspected Avery Shaw. The man had saved his life. He’d been a friend and confidant. Zack knew the spinal-cord injury had been hard on Shaw. But he never would have imagined the other man taking it to this level.
Zack looked at Emily and a different kind of guilt began to roil inside him. She stared back at him, her eyes wide with terror, her face the color of paste. He couldn’t bear the thought of her dying a long and painful death because of him. If he had to sacrifice his own life to save hers, he would do it.
He saw one of the men pull a set of stainless-steel cuffs from his belt. “Put your hands behind your back, Devlin.”
“Run to the tunnels,” he whispered to Emily out of earshot of the other men.
Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m not leaving you.”
“I have a plan,” he lied. “Now go. I’ll find you.”
“Give me your hands.” The man with the cuffs grasped his arm and turned him roughly.
Zack spun, brought his right foot up and knocked the man out cold with a single kick. Lunging, he punched one of the armed officers with a palm-heel strike to the nose. The man’s head snapped back, blood gushing. The man’s rifle flew from his arms. Zack went for the rifle. Out of the corner of his eye he saw an armed man swinging his gun muzzle toward him. And Emily streaking toward the door.
Zack’s fingers curled around the stock of the rifle. “Run!” he shouted to Emily and brought the gun up.
An explosion rocked his brain. For an instant Zack thought he’d gotten off a shot. Then the bullet seared into his side. Pain like he’d never felt before slammed through his body. An animalistic sound squeezed from his throat. But the pain was second ary to the terror, because in his peripheral vision he saw Underwood lunge at Emily.
Clutching his side, Zack watched her fight off Underwood. A rise of elation went through him when she reached the door, swung it open. Run! Then a guard caught her. Zack watched in dismay as her arms were jerked behind her back, her wrists cuffed.
Dear God, no, he thought.
Then the world faded to black.
THEY WERE GOING TO KILL HER. Emily knew that as surely as she felt the cold grip of the handcuffs around her wrists. But fear for her own life meant little to her in light of what had happened to Zack. She couldn’t believe he’d been shot. That she couldn’t go to him. That they were forcing her to leave him behind. Oh, dear God, she couldn’t walk away!
She struggled with the men dragging her into the hall. She screamed and cursed at them, but her efforts were in vain. “Let go of me!” she cried.
“Stop fighting!” one of the men shouted.
Jerking away from the sandy-haired man, she turned toward Underwood. “They shot him. Marcus, please, you can’t let him die. I’ll do anything. Just…dear God, he was bleeding.”
Another layer of horror and helplessness settled over her when Underwood only smiled. “Dear Emily, you’ve become quite fond of Mr. Devlin, haven’t you?”
Closing her eyes against the pain of knowing Zack was badly injured and at the mercy of a man who hated him, she nodded. “I love him. Marcus, please, I’ll go willingly. Just…don’t let him die.”
For the first time Underwood looked uncomfortable. “It’s out of my hands, Emily.”
“No,” she said, her heart breaking. “No!”
Underwood jerked his head at the sandy-haired man. “Just get her to the testing chamber.”
ZACK LAY ON HIS SIDE watching his own blood pool around him. Considering he’d been shot, he didn’t feel all that bad. The pain had faded to a dull, burning ache. He was dizzy and slightly nauseous, but by no means in agony.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the sounds around him. There was at least one person in the room. Zack didn’t know who it was, but he was a lot more concerned with whether or not they were armed. He wondered if he was able to get up.
Only one way to find out….
Groaning involuntarily, he rolled onto his back. He doubled over, seized with pain so intense he thought he was going to pass out.
“Not a very good feeling to be helpless and shot, is it, Devlin?”
Shaw. Cold-blooded bastard. Zack opened one eye, found himself staring up at him. “No thanks to you,” he muttered, surprised by the feebleness of his own voice.
“We got her, you know.” Shaw squatted next to him, his elbows on his knees, and tilted his head to make eye contact. “She says she loves you, Devlin. What do you make of that?”
“Good taste in men,” he said.
“A smart mouth to the end. Damn, I always respected you.” Shaw rose. “But it’s not going to help you. Or her.”