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As the lights went out, he had rushed in just in time to save Kita from the injection her uncle had been preparing to shove into her arm.
The one that would have destroyed her as it had destroyed him.
“I’m okay,” she finally answered him.
The answers hadn’t come quickly.
Kita felt as though they had been there for hours.
When the lights had been restored, Jonas Wyatt, a half dozen Breeds, Diane Broen, and the mercenary working with her were the only ones still standing.
Phillip Brandenmore and the other three mercenaries he had hired were dead.
“You’re not okay.” He was holding her against his chest, his hand at her head, and she was still crying.
Not as hard as she had been, but the tears didn’t want to stop.
“Creed, I need your weapon.” Diane loped over to them, a delicate hand extending, palm out, revealing a slash of scars emphasized by the blood on her hand. “Once the authorities arrive we don’t want to blow your cover.”
Creed handed it over as Kita lifted her gaze and saw the compassion in the other woman’s expression.
Diane tucked the weapon into the back of her jeans, then hesitated before slowly hunching down in front of Kita. “Nightmares begin like this,” Diane said softly, glancing up at Creed, then back to Kita. “Don’t blame yourself, Ms. Engalls, and they won’t be near as bad.”
Kita could only shake her head as the other woman stood again and walked toward Jonas.
“Come on. Dealing with the authorities isn’t something I’m in the mood for.” Creed didn’t give her a chance to answer; he picked her up in his arms and before she knew it, she knew she was holding on to him like the lifeline she needed, burying her face against his neck.
Minutes later, he sat down on the bed, his hand stroking her hair.
“I love you, Kita,” he whispered. “I loved you before that first month was out, and I love you even more now. Give us a chance to work through this.”
She shook her head.
“Don’t make me beg.” His voice was dark, tortured.
Lifting her head, she stared at him. “You don’t have to beg, Creed,” she whispered tearfully. “If you left me now, I don’t know if I could handle it. Nothing seems real to me anymore except you. You are the only thing in my life in the past year that hasn’t changed.”
Surprise lit his gaze. “You didn’t know I was a Breed.”
“Didn’t I?” She couldn’t smile, even to comfort him. “I think a part of me did know. Subconsciously, I think I’ve always known. There’s nothing to forgive. As long as you hold me. As long as you kiss me.”
He kissed her. Gently. His lips parted hers, his tongue stroked, but in comfort rather than in heat, in love rather than in that loving lust they had shared before.
This was a kiss to warm, to comfort, to ease. It was a kiss to bind hearts and meld souls and build a foundation for the future on.
When his head lifted, she touched his jaw, and this time, she managed a smile.
“Uncle Phillip died a long time ago, didn’t he?”
It was then her father entered the room. “He died the day your mother did.”
Kita turned her head.
He stood there, his shoulders straight, the grief in his eyes and on his face as heavy as the weight she knew he carried on his shoulders.
“I was trying to protect you,” he whispered.
“Your father is the one who has been feeding the Breeds information through the Engalls and Brandenmore companies for the past several years, though he remained anonymous until he contacted Jonas a few days ago,” Creed informed her. “He knew I was a Breed, Kita. Just as he knew the horror your uncle was attempting to create.”
