“Keep her here,” Luke bit off.
It took a moment too long for those words to sink in for Mina. By the time they did, Luke was already out the door, and the dark-haired, British guy was in her path. “Luke! Wait!”
He did wait, for a moment, long enough to warn, “Her voice is magic, so you’ll probably need to gag her.”
“Luke!” Her voice was a scream then, definitely nothing magical about it. She lunged after him, but the other man grabbed her around the waist, holding her tightly.
Then…the air itself seemed to still. Luke turned toward them and his face had gone hard. Cold. “You will not hurt her, is that clear, Julian? You will not so much as bruise her skin.”
Immediately, the hold on her eased.
“She isn’t to leave the island,” Luke said. “So don’t let her compel you. If she tries her tricks, you can always put her in a cell.”
Oh, the hell, no. Her glare should have burned him. “Luke, you and I are going to have issues over this.”
He smiled at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You wanted payback, sweetheart. This can be step one.”
“I didn’t want—”
He’d walked away. The jerk had just walked down the hallway and left her. “I want to help you!” Mina yelled the words without thinking. “You’re hurting! I see it! I just want to help—”
The man who’d been holding her turned Mina carefully in his arms, making an obvious effort to ‘not so much as bruise’ her. “Trust me, lady,” he said, the British definitely creeping through in his upper crust accent. “Luke isn’t the type to need help.”
“Everyone needs help.” She understood that fact all too well. “Everyone.”
Even the man that the monsters feared.
Chapter Six
The bar was gone. A total loss. The fire truck was still at the scene when Luke arrived and the dark, heavy clouds of smoke hung in the air. When he took a breath, he could taste the fire. The ash burned his mouth.
Cops were at the scene. The local guys who thought they ran the show but didn’t really do jack. A crowd of tourists were staring at the scene with shock evident on their faces.
And there was no sign of Eli.
Had he died in the wreckage? Luke marched toward one of the cops, a guy he’d crossed paths with more than a few times. A guy who had the sense to tense when Luke approached and for fear to flash in his eyes.
“M-Mr. Thorne,” the cop gasped. A decent enough sort, for a human. Wesley Strauss. Once upon a time, Wesley had worked as a homicide detective in Atlanta. But when the bodies had just kept piling up, the guy had fled down to the Keys, probably thinking he’d be doing nothing more strenuous than throwing drunk college kids in jail for some hard sobering up. He’d been wrong.
“Where is the bar owner? Where is Eli Nabb?”
Wesley’s brown stare jerked toward the charred remains of the bar. “Because of all the alcohol, it looks like the place went up fast. The bar ignited, almost like a bomb went—”
“Where. Is. Eli?”
Wesley’s eyes widened. “I-I don’t know.”
“I can help you with that information.”
At that voice—low, drawling, and coming from a few feet behind him—Luke tensed. His nostrils flared as he pulled in all of the scents around him. His shoulders straightened and he turned to see just who was being so very helpful.
A man with blond hair—sun streaked and clipped short—stood a few feet away. The guy was wearing a suit, the boring type favored by government agents. The fellow moved his arm back a bit, and Luke saw the holster just beneath the suit coat.
Interesting.
This guy wasn’t local. He was human.
Luke’s gaze assessed the man. The guy was an inch or so shorter than Luke, but muscled in that I-Work-Out way. His skin was tanned, and his hazel gaze glinted with both intelligence and cunning. Luke knew he’d have to tread carefully with this one.
“I know what happened to Eli.” The man offered his hand to Luke. “I’m Agent Garrick McAdams.”
Luke shook the hand. The guy had a good grip—again, for a human. Strong enough. “Luke Thorne.”
Garrick nodded, as if he’d already suspected Luke’s identity. “Right. I’ve heard that name. You’re pretty famous in this area, aren’t you?” He smiled, a friendly grin. “I think one of the cops even mentioned you’ve got your own private island—he told me it was quite the place to see.”
“It is.” Luke didn’t smile back at him. He didn’t like that this agent already knew so much about him. “Where’s Eli?”
“Oh, your friend was taken to the hospital.” The smile slipped. “I’m afraid he suffered second degree burns on a substantial portion of his body. With all the alcohol in there, the fire spread quickly, too quickly. The building couldn’t be saved but…I happened to be close by. I was able to pull your friend to safety.”
“Well, aren’t you the hero.”
Garrick blinked.
“What hospital?” Luke demanded.
Garrick’s lips parted.
Luke waited.