Evidence of Passion (Shadow Agents #7)(32)
Author: Cynthia Eden

And Dylan?

Her steps slowed. She turned and rested her back against the brick wall of the pub. A small alley snaked down the left-hand side of the building.

She glanced at the alley then looked back across the street. From that alley, a person would have a perfect vantage point to watch her apartment.

And to stay hidden.

Rachel straightened and peered into the darkness of the alley.

Rachel thought she heard a faint sound. The light scuffle of a shoe? “Is someone there?” she called.

No answer but…the scuffle sounded again. A rasp? She tiptoed closer to the mouth of the alley. “Hello?”

Maybe it was an animal. The faint noise could just be a cat getting into some garbage. That explanation made sense.

“H-help…”

The cry was faint, so very faint, but Rachel heard it. She tensed. “Who’s there?” And where was the EOD guard? She swung around, glancing back at the street behind her.

She didn’t see anyone.

“H-help…” A gasp, but she’d definitely heard the words.

Rachel wished that she had her gun with her. Any kind of weapon. But she didn’t.

And she also didn’t have the luxury of hesitating.

Rachel rushed toward that faint cry.

* * *

DYLAN JUMPED OUT of the SUV. He’d grabbed the first vehicle that he found at the EOD, and he’d shot straight to Rachel’s place. He’d thought about calling her, but he’d been afraid the woman would just hang up on him.

She was furious, he got that. But he couldn’t let her shut him out like this.

He rushed up the steps to her apartment and nearly slammed into Hunter Paxton. Hunter was a new EOD agent, but he was fast catching attention because when it came to the missions, he was single-minded.

“Something I can do for you?” Hunter asked him.

The guy was actually blocking Dylan’s path to the door.

“Yeah, get out of the way,” Dylan snapped.

Hunter didn’t move. “Mercer just called me. Said that you weren’t Rachel’s commander any longer. It seems she’s left the agency.”

No. That wasn’t happening. “Mercer is misinformed.”

Hunter smiled. “I’d hoped so. I like Rachel.”

Every-damn-body did. The woman pulled them all in.

She sure pulled me in.

Hunter slid to the side. “I got on shift about twenty minutes ago. I was told to watch the building. To make sure access to the place is limited.” But then Hunter shook his head. “Save yourself the trouble of racing up there. Rachel hasn’t come home yet.”

What? If she wasn’t home, then where the hell was she?

* * *

SHE SAW THE legs first, sprawled out near the garbage container. Legs and—

Rachel gasped as her penlight fell on the figure there. “Brent?”

His shirt was wet with blood. He was gasping and struggling to speak.

She’d just left him minutes before! How could this happen? How?

She yanked out her phone. “I’ll get help.” She’d have an ambulance there in no—

He grabbed at her hand. “Help…”

“I am! I’m getting you help.” The line rang. Once. Twi—

Brent gasped again. “G-go…” He jerked on her. Harder.

And something sharp stabbed into Rachel’s neck. The phone fell from her fingers as she spun around, but the man there was cloaked in shadows.

She tried to lunge to her feet, but Rachel felt her body collapsing.

He drugged me.

That sharp prick had been a needle. And…and she’d been drugged before. Three years ago. By Jack.

A needle to her neck. They’d been dancing. She’d trusted him so completely. He’d lifted his hand and injected her. She hadn’t seen the needle until it was too late.

Just like it’s too late now.

His arms wrapped around her when she collapsed. The drug seemed to instantly weigh down her limbs.

“Don’t worry about him, sweetheart. He’s already dead.” He lifted her easily into his arms. Rachel’s eyes were sagging closed but she saw that he had on a dark ski mask. His features were covered. There were holes for his eyes. His gloved hands tightened around her. “And you…you’re mine.”

* * *

DYLAN BURST INTO the pub. Rachel had gone there a few nights before, so maybe she’d tried the place again. He scanned the booths, rushed into the back rooms, and even checked the ladies’ bathroom. A few shouts and curses greeted him, but there was no sign of Rachel.

He headed back to the pub’s entrance. His body was tight with worry. He tried calling Rachel, but her phone just rang and rang.

Okay, she could be furious at him, but she didn’t get to go off the grid like this.

Jaw locking, he turned from the crowd and phoned the EOD. When his call was answered, he snapped. “This is Dylan Foxx.” He knew the voice-recognition software would be confirming his identity. “I want a track put on Agent Rachel Mancini’s phone. I need the phone’s location now.” Rachel also had a tracking chip implanted on her, but he didn’t push for intel on that, not yet. Mercer would need to approve that sort of information retrieval.

Calm down. The order whispered through his mind. He knew it was possible that he was way overreacting. She’s just letting off steam. You know Jack won’t hurt her. He saved her life before the blast.

But Dylan couldn’t seem to get calm. Fear snaked through him, and Dylan wasn’t used to fear.

He only felt fear when Rachel was in danger.

All of his primal instincts were fired up right then.

The agent was back on the line in moments. Dylan put his hand up to his ear, trying to dim the noise so he could hear what Helen Grant had to say. “Triangulation shows that you should be right near Rachel Mancini,” Helen told him.

He spun around, searching the bar once more. “Check that signal again and call me back.” He shoved the phone into his pocket. He’d just caught sight of the bartender. The guy was laughing as he headed toward a back room.

Dylan pushed people out of his way and grabbed the guy’s shoulder. “Aidan, right?”

The guy frowned at him. Then his brows lifted. “Ah, I figured you’d be in, sooner or later.” He looked over Dylan’s shoulder. “But I think you just missed her…”

“Rachel.” Her name burst from him. “She was here?”

Aidan nodded. “Sure. About ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago.” Then he added, “She was upset.”

Dylan’s guts twisted. “I need to find her.”