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Dominic threw down the hand and glanced around. He didn’t see any other patrols, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more out there somewhere. He turned to see Rashid and the two children running toward him.

Dominic kicked the hand away so the kids wouldn’t see it and joined them at the roadside.

Rashid shook his head. “Interesting. I took a few pictures of that move of yours. It gives new meaning to the term hand job .”

“I’m glad you were entertained. Now let’s get these kids out of here. I need to get to my casino in Morocco right away.”

“Still feeling lucky, are we?”

“Really?” Dominic gave him a sardonic glance. “It’s not that. I need to talk to Hastings and get some information about this damn massacre.” He was already heading across the road. “Come on, let’s get moving down that ridge you were talking about…”

BOSTON SCHOOL OF THE ARTS

8:55 P.M.

“Celine!”

Sighing, Celine Kelly stopped as she reached the back entrance of the studio. It had to be Jean Paul running after her down the hall, dammit.

Gary Barnaby, the uniformed security guard, chuckled as he got to his feet at the door. “Sorry, Celine. I think he’s zeroed in on you. Better luck next time. Unless you want me to try to distract him while you slip out?”

Celine was tempted but shook her head. “That would lack dignity. I’ll handle it.

Thanks anyway, Gary.” She turned to face Jean Paul as he came running around the corner.

His expression was just as eager and intense as she’d known it would be.

No one had more passion for his work than him.

Except maybe herself when she was working at the hospital.

But there was no way she’d go to the lengths Jean Paul did to get his own way.

She ignored his pleading expression and firmly shook her head.

“No, Jean Paul. You know I have another part-time job I have to do tonight. I can’t give you any more time today.

I’ll be here at the same time tomorrow afternoon, and that will have to be good enough. ”

“Just call in sick to that stupid hospital for one more hour.” His tone was wheedling. “I feel really good about where my painting is going today. But I need that wonderful face of yours to inspire me.”

“Too bad,” Celine said. “I need enough money to pay my share of the rent for my apartment and my lessons here at the studio.”

Jean Paul frowned. “You could probably make much more if you posed for nudes here at the studio. I’ve already offered you twice as much as I’m giving you for that portrait I’m doing now.

You can’t be making much interning as a resident.

Besides, why would you want to take care of a bunch of boring patients when you’re an artist yourself? ”

Celine shook her head in exasperation. “I’m only an artist because I’d be bored silly if I had to just sit there mindlessly while I was posing for you.

And those patients aren’t as boring as you’re implying.

Everyone has a story, and I can help them.

Not to mention that at least I’m actually learning something worthwhile.

” She made a face. “And I appreciate that I’m inspiring your genius, Jean Paul, but I prefer to do it with my clothes on. ”

Barnaby suddenly chuckled. “You tell him, Celine.”

Jean Paul gave him a dirty look before he smiled at Celine. “But it’s such a terrible waste. Give me a chance and I’ll make a goddess of you.”

“I’ll pass.” She headed for the door. “There’s not much call for goddesses in today’s workplace.”

“There would be for you,” Jean Paul said. “Well, if you change your mind, be sure to let me know, and I’ll make arrangements with studio personnel.” He was turning and heading back toward his studio.

“Don’t hold your breath.” She glanced again at the security guard, who was still chuckling. “Stop grinning, Barnaby. He actually means it. It’s quite a compliment to have an artist want to make you into a goddess.”

“Yeah, sure,” Barnaby said. “I was only thinking what a great pickup line it was.”

“But it only works if the artist is as good as Jean Paul,” Celine said. “There has to be a certain substance connected to it. Good night, Jean Paul.”

He nodded gloomily as he wandered back toward his studio. “Tomorrow, Celine. Don’t be late.”

She grimaced as she headed for the rear door. “That takes a good deal of nerve,” she murmured. “Considering he’s probably made me late for my shift at the hospital tonight.”

Barnaby was frowning. “Do you want me to call you a cab, Celine?”

She shook her head as he held the door open. “Nope, I don’t believe you understood that I’d have a problem with that. Cabs persist in requiring me to pay them. I’m strictly a subway girl.”

“You sure?” he asked. “Want me to walk you to the subway?”

“No, don’t be silly. I’ll be fine. By the way, how are your wife and kids doing?”

“Great. Judy said to tell you hi and thanks for the books for the kids.”

“You’re welcome. Books are important. They can change our lives. They were my best friends while I was growing up.” She hurried out the door and said over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow, Barnaby.”

She was already walking quickly down the street toward the subway a few blocks away.

It was a cold night, and the streets were deserted now that most of the shops were closed and the rush hour was over.

Not quite deserted—she could hear footsteps on the street behind her. Strange. She hadn’t seen anyone when she’d come out of the studio a few minutes ago. But now she definitely could hear the rhythm of those steps on the sidewalk several paces back.

Was it her imagination that their rhythm seemed to be keeping pace with her own stride?

Was someone following her? She increased her speed.

The footsteps on the street behind her did the same.

Okay, someone might be following her. Nothing to get in a panic about , Celine thought impatiently.

It wasn’t the first time. It probably wouldn’t be the last. Boston was a big city, and it had its own share of stalkers like any town.

It wasn’t as if she couldn’t take care of herself.

She just wished this particular creep would leave her alone.

She took a quick look behind her. The only person on the street behind her was male, tall with dark hair, and wearing a brown jacket.

There was something vaguely familiar about him…

Maybe this wasn’t the first time this asshole had decided to follow her to or from the subway?

It was possible she might not have noticed him if he’d blended in with a crowd.

Which also meant she could have a decision to make.

Should she take off at a run and try to make it to the subway, where she knew there would probably be a crowd?

Or would it be better to go back to the studio where she knew Barnaby, the security guard, would be at the door as usual.

That might be best. Even though Barnaby was only a security guard, the sight of a man in uniform could sometimes intimidate people who mistook them for regular police.

She took another quick glance behind her.

Now the man’s demeanor had suddenly changed.

He was walking steadily, purposefully, almost stalking her.

She didn’t like it.

And he was speeding up now, and his gaze appeared to be focused on her. She was beginning to feel threatened. Had the creep finally made his decision? It appeared so, she thought impatiently.

Well, so had she. She whirled to face him.

He continued to come toward her. “Don’t run away from me, pretty lady,” he called out mockingly. “I just want to talk to you.”

“And I don’t want to talk to you,” she said curtly. “Get lost.”

“I can’t do that. I have my orders.” His hand fell on her shoulder. “Now just calm down and we’ll get along fine.”

She stiffened. “Don’t touch me.”

His hand pressed down on her shoulder. “I’m trying not to hurt you. I just need you to come with me and—”

She lowered her head and threw all of her weight into a rolling clinch, a move she’d mastered long ago. She’d started Muay Thai classes as a way to relieve stress in her undergrad days, but she’d never used it in self-defense.

Until now.

Her attacker staggered back, then hurtled toward her. She stood her ground and swung her right leg in a high roundhouse kick, hitting him squarely in the throat. He wheezed as he tried to pull oxygen past his crushed windpipe. He fell to his knees.

It couldn’t be that easy, she thought.

It wasn’t.

Another man stepped from the shadows. He was taller and more imposing than the first guy, and his bearing suggested a steely confidence.

“Impressive,” he said as he gestured toward the man writhing on the sidewalk.

“But I’m afraid you’ll still have to come with me, Celine.

I don’t want to hurt you, but I’ll do it, missy. ”

“Missy?” Celine moved her feet apart in the classic Muay Thai fighting stance. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

The man smiled. “Far be it from me.”

Celine nodded down to the first attacker, who was still gasping for air. “I’m pretty sure that your buddy here will survive, but he’s in bad shape unless he gets help. Why don’t we end this right here? I’m a physician. I can help him.”

The man shook his head as he uncapped a syringe. “A generous offer, but he’s on his own now. You’re the only one I care about.”

She lightly bounced back on her heels. “Wow. With friends like these…”

The man rushed toward her and jabbed at her with the syringe.

Oh, hell no…

Celine performed a series of matrix dodges to avoid each jab, anticipating his thrusts and countering with perfect ducks and weaves. But she had to do more than just avoid his attacks; she had to parry.

She ax-kicked his forearm and sent the syringe flying. She jumped forward.

What was it that her old master used to say?

Oh, yeah. Unleash hell.