Her gaze swung to the alarm system on the other wall, too far away for her to trigger the manual alert, but she could see the red light that indicated the back door had been deactivated. Dear God. Tammy had to have deactivated the alarm. But why?
Okay, so where were the blockheads then? she thought frantically. They should have received an alert that the back door was unlocked as well as the front while she was outside. They were so anal she would have thought they would check it out immediately.
“Can I help you?” she squeaked, hysterically amused at the polite phrase that escaped her lips as she backed toward the door she had just closed. In one blinding second she realized she was pretty screwed.
There were four of them. That was more than her self-defense training was going to handle at once, that was for sure. Masks covered their faces but nothing could hide the feral hatred in their eyes. Amanda swallowed tightly, wondering at her chances of escape. It didn’t look good.
“Yes, you can.” One of them stepped forward, pale blue eyes glittering ferally as he lifted the gun he held loosely in his hand and pointed it at her head. “You can come quietly, or I can shoot you. Your choice.”
“I get a choice.” She blinked with mocking innocence. “Oh, wow. Can I think about it a while?”
She almost winced at the sarcasm. Bad move. Sarcasm and guns did not mix. Cold blue eyes narrowed on her as he cocked the gun, the sound ricocheting through her body and causing her to flinch in dread.
“Do you really want to take that risk, Ms. Marion?” he asked her softly. “It could be deadly.”
She drew in a deep breath, swallowing tightly. She hated choices. A bullet or perhaps a fate worse than death? If she was very, very lucky a gunshot would only hurt like hell and draw enough attention…
Nope, silencer. Damn.
She stood silent, still, facing them as she caught sight of the light from the corner of her eye. She wasn’t going to just let them calmly take her. Only God knew who they were. He took another step and she jumped. Her hand slapped down on the switch as she jumped for the door, pushing back the lock as she twisted the doorknob and screamed for all she was worth. A second after the sound escaped her throat, darkness descended.
Damn. Dying wasn’t going to be fun…
Chapter Three
Babysitting duty sucked. Kiowa sat back in the seat of the luxurious Lexus and watched the little demoness hand out candy like royal favors and stifled a growl of arousal. He had been at this for a week now, and her effect on him was damned inconvenient. And that costume wasn’t helping matters any. She smiled at the kids, her face lighting up with pleasure at each one that came to her door, only to become smoothly polite while talking to the parents. She held herself aloof, in control, but he could sense a fire simmering inside her.
Damned woman, watching her hadn’t been his brightest move. He should have told Dash Sinclair to take a damned hike when he tracked him down and asked him to join this insanity. The world was not going to accept Breeds. President Marion could vote a hundred Breed Laws in and it wasn’t going to make a difference. They were too different. But Dash and Callan Lyons were certain it could happen. Just as they were certain Kiowa could help.
He snorted at that. A coyote consorting with lions and wolves. What was next?
He shifted in the leather seat, readjusting his c**k and grimacing at the engorged length. Just what he needed, a hard-on for the President’s sweet little daughter. That was guaranteed to get him hunted and killed like the mangy animal he was created to be, he thought mockingly. As Kiowa watched the front door, it suddenly swung open, a woman’s strangled scream barely reaching him as it closed just as fast. His eyes moved to the door beside her, the duplex her Secret Service unit was using was dark and quiet. No lights came on; no alarm was sounded. His gaze narrowed as he scanned the nearly deserted street now. Trick-or-treaters were on the street above and below, but there was no one close enough to hear that abrupt cry. Cursing, he pulled the Glock from the waistband of his pants and exited his vehicle quickly. Ducking, he made his way around the cars, then the side of the fence that enclosed the little two-story duplex. They wouldn’t take her out the front door; they would have a car at the back. Dammit, where the hell were her bodyguards, the inept Secret Service detail assigned to her? He personally didn’t need this shit. He was supposed to be backup, nothing more, not the damned cavalry. As he moved through the shadows, rounding the fence carefully, he caught sight of the van and the driver waiting impatiently, a black mask pulled over his face. Kiowa moved through the shadows, inhaling the crisp night air to be certain there were no other guards outside. His vision picked up the driver, but no other signs of a partner in the van.
Stupid. Stupid, he raged silently as he quickly silenced his weapon and fired. The guard slumped over instantly at the same moment the back gate opened. Moving swiftly along the side of the fence, Kiowa jerked the first man past the gate, his arms going around his head and twisting quickly. He dropped the body before the sound of the hollow break finished. The second man, surprised, was just as easy to take out. Ducking, he barely avoided a bullet before firing back and taking out the third. Didn’t take those boys long to figure out they were caught, he thought mockingly. Dogs were howling now, voices raising as the fourth man moved to lay his gun at the temple of the unconscious woman he was holding.
Training could be a wonderful thing, Kiowa thought distantly as extended his arm and fired first, before catching the burden the assailant carried as he fell.
Now what? Goddammit, he didn’t need this.
Throwing her over his shoulder, he moved to the van, jerked the dead driver from his seat to the ground and moved in himself. He tossed the girl on the floor of the van, revved the engine and pulled out as lights began to flood the street.
Fuck, he really didn’t need this. He was just supposed to watch her. Just watch her and make sure the Goof Troop didn’t bungle their job and let the blood supremacists stalking President Marion make an attempt on her.
The Secret Service detail was experienced. They were old hands at protecting First Daughters. The best of the best and they were f**king dead as hell or sleeping on the job and now he was stuck with the Baby Girl.
He’d drop her off somewhere, make a quick little phone call to the nearest police station and that would be that. Easy. Simple.
Bullshit.
If the bastards had got to her this easy then there was some major shit getting ready to hit the fan. No one, but no one, got to the President’s daughter that easy without inside help. Shit.