Page 105 of Zorro

Maritza grinned. “Buck’s my husband.”

Everly turned to Julia, eyes narrowed.

“You belong to…?”

Julia smiled, soft and serene. “Professor.”

Maritza shook her head, already chuckling. “Let me guess…you’re Zorro’s doctor. The one who’s been driving him completely bonkers?”

Everly exhaled sharply. “Guilty as charged.”

The three of them exchanged a look, wry, tired, filled with that strange camaraderie only women in love with impossible men could understand.

But the sound of someone groaning across the room pulled Everly’s focus. A man sat slumped near the wall, cradling a bloodied arm. Another woman had a deep cut across her thigh. Someone else, a teen, was folded into a ball, barely breathing. No one was helping them.

No one was moving. Everly stood.

Julia touched her wrist. “Ev?—”

“I’m a doctor,” Everly said firmly, her voice low but sure. “I’m not watching these people bleed out while I sit on my ass.”

She crossed the room, every step deliberate.

The nearest Black Dawn militant clocked her immediately, raising his weapon slightly. “Sit down!”

Everly didn’t flinch. “I’m a doctor,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “These people are wounded. If you’re trying to make a point to the world, letting civilians die in front of your cameras won’t help.”

The man’s jaw tightened. “Back off.”

“I’m not asking to leave,” she said. “I’m asking for a first aid kit. You’re already in control. This doesn’t change that.”

He stepped toward her and, without warning, backhanded her hard. Gasps rippled through the room. Everly staggered but didn’t fall. Blood filled her mouth. She tasted copper and fury. She looked up at him, slowly, then she took a step forward. Her voice dropped, soft but razor-edged. “You’re already in power. Everyone here is afraid of you. What does it cost to be a human being now? Let me help them.”

There was a pause.

Then, behind the man, another insurgent, older, less wired with adrenaline, grunted something in Portuguese. The first man hesitated, then snarled as another man shoved a battered first aid kit into her chest.

“Make it quick.”

Everly didn’t thank him. She turned, knelt beside the first wounded man, and set to work. Behind her, Julia and Maritza closed in like sentinels, one handing her gauze, the other keeping quiet watch, ready to move when their men came to collect them. Everly had no doubt.

Bailee crouched behind a fire suppression panel, Glock trained on the hallway, her breath a steady rhythm in her chest.

She’d taken down two already. The third was hunting her. She didn’t know how many more were coming, only that she was one mag away from being out of options.

The stairwell door exploded inward.

She pivoted, weapon raised until she saw the figure moving through the smoke.

Solid. Controlled. Shadow and fury wrapped in muscle.

Bear. Standing tall, gun up, eyes sweeping the perimeter like a sentinel born of stone and storm. He was the most terrifyingly beautiful thing she’d ever seen, with Flint at his heel, silent and deadly.

Three Black Dawn fighters stormed the hallway. Bear didn’t blink. He went low and fast, two shots to the chest, one to the throat, pivoted left and swept the last man’s legs with a savage kick. Carlos bolted, and Flint launched like a black blur, landing on him with stunning power, jaws locking onto his arm and wrenching hard. Bear finished him off with a headshot.

Silence followed—only breathing and blood.

Bailee lowered her weapon and stepped out.