Safe (The Shielded Series Book 1) by Christine DePetrillo Read Free Book Online Page B

and wiggled her
fingers. “Do you trust me?”
    Another explosion rattled the building beneath them as flames shot out of
the ventilation system.
    He didn’t have the option not to trust her.
    ****
    Why did Darina want Foster to take her hand so badly? She couldn’t make
sense of her need to keep this guy safe. Sure, she’d kept people safe for most
of her police career, but something was different when it came to this doctor.
    Maybe it had something to do with the medicine in her pocket—medicine
that could significantly improve Zeke’s life. Maybe it had something to do with
the fact that Foster hadn’t hesitated when she’d asked him about helping with
the seizures. Maybe it had to do with Foster being a GEC like Zeke with the
same affliction even.    
    Maybe it had to do with the way he’d looked at her when he’d traced the
stars around her forearm in his domicile.
    No time for this.
    “Foster, c’mon. This roof isn’t going to hold much longer.” She took
another step closer, wary of the gaping hole in the roof beside Foster. Heat
and smoke poured from it as well as other places on the roof.
    He reached forward and put his hand in hers. With a tug, she pulled him
to his feet and they ran to the hovercopter.
    She didn’t let go of his hand. Not when she climbed into the craft. Not
when he climbed in right behind her. Not when they settled in their seats. Not
when she signaled to Ghared to get the hell off that roof.
    The hovercopter ascended vertically, leaving Foster’s building a flaming
beacon below them. Banking around the neighboring buildings, the craft jetted
toward Emerge Tech’s walls.
    Foster let go of her hand then to lean forward to Ghared. “Those walls
have a security field above them.”
    “Yeah, no shit.” Ghared shot him a sideways glance. “But I got in, didn’t
I?” He reached over and smacked the leg of his copilot—Zeke.
    Darina had been surprised to see Zeke in the hovercopter, but Ghared told
her he hadn’t wanted to leave the kid behind so soon after a seizure. She
immediately regretted calling her buddy for help, but he was the only one who
could get them out of there in one piece.
    She loved him for not leaving Zeke behind, even if the kid looked pale
and groggy in his seat now. His dark mass of hair was sticking out at odd
angles as if he’d been ripped out of a death-level slumber, which he no doubt
had been. She fought the urge to pull Zeke into the back seat and into her lap,
wanting nothing more than to comfort him.  
    Foster leaned back in his seat beside her. “Is our pilot’s confidence
warranted, or should I be concerned?” He touched the gash on his forehead and
frowned at the blood dotting his fingertips. He unzipped his pocket and
extracted his tablet.
    “I wouldn’t have called someone incompetent for help. I make a point of
only associating with useful people,” Darina said, watching Foster power up his
tablet and attempt—unsuccessfully—to doctor the gash in his forehead.
    She slid closer to him and held out her hand for the tablet. After he
slid it into her hand, she focused on lining up the injury in the tablet’s
viewfinder. She absolutely did not notice how beautifully green his eyes were
or how long his dark eyelashes were or how wonderfully that black stubble
framed his tempting lips. She barely registered the artistic way his tattoo
swirled up from his neck to his ear. Nope. Didn’t see a thing.
    Grumbling to herself, she scanned his wound and it sealed itself. She
reached under the pilot’s seat and grabbed a first aid kit, which no doubt was
an antique to Foster. Rummaging around in it, she found a cleansing wipe and
gave him one to wash the blood off his forehead.
    As she stowed the first aid kit back under the pilot’s seat, she said,
“You’ll live.”
    “Thanks.” His voice also sounded as if he had tried—and failed—to not notice
anything about her face as she’d tended to him.
    Nodding, she peered out the front