“As well as can be expected, I suppose. I’ve never seen her hurting so much and so much in love at the same time.” Blair sighed. “I don’t want her to feel like she’s alone in this.”

“She’s not.”

“I know, but she’s afraid to talk to anyone about…” Blair hesitated, realizing they were venturing onto dangerous ground. She wished desperately that Diane would talk to Cam.

Cam felt Blair stiffen and leaned back to study her face. “Did something happen today that she needs to talk about?”

Blair stroked Cam’s shoulder and kissed her quickly. “Let’s go eat.”

“Blair,” Cam caught Blair’s hand as she rose and tried to move away. “What happened today?”

“We agreed we wouldn’t talk about—”

“What we agreed,” Cam said dangerously, “is that what went on between Diane and Valerie was Diane’s business unless she got into trouble.”

“Right.” Blair centered herself, dropped one leg back and rotated her arm in a quick, tight circle, breaking Cam’s grip. It was a standard self-defense move, and if Cam had been expecting it, Blair wouldn’t have been able to break her hold.

Cam’s face darkened, but she didn’t try to stop Blair as Blair started toward the bedroom door. “What we didn’t agree on,” she said to Blair’s back, “and something I didn’t think we’d have to discuss, is what would happen if Valerie involved you in any way. I didn’t think I’d have to ask you to tell me.”

“I’m not involved.”

“Then tell me nothing happened today when you were anywhere around.”

Blair hesitated with her hand on the doorknob. “Don’t, Cam. Please.”

Cam let her go, because she was so angry that anything else she said would likely drive Blair into the streets, which is where she usually went when she felt threatened or cornered. Better she left than Blair. Cam laced her running shoes, grabbed a windbreaker, and stalked through the living room and out the door. She didn’t bother with the elevator, but descended the stairs two at a time. When she shouldered through the door into the lobby, she didn’t even slow down as she passed Wozinski, who stared at her in surprise. “If Egret goes out, don’t lose her. If you do, you’ll answer to me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Wozinski said smartly.

Diane turned to Blair at the sound of the door slamming. “What happened?”

Blair drained her wine glass and refilled it. “Nothing.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing.” Diane turned off the burner and picked up her own glass. “Are you fighting about me?”

“No,” Blair snapped. “We’re fighting about what we’ve always fought about.”

“And what’s that?”

“Cam’s goddamn job and the fact that she still wants to keep me tucked away somewhere. Safe and sound like some exotic animal in a fucking gilded cage.”

“She loves you.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Of course it is.”

“I thought we were past this,” Blair said sadly.

Diane picked up the bottle and her wine glass and gestured toward the living room. “Let’s talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. Let’s drink wine instead.”

“Let’s do both.” Diane tucked the bottle under one arm and wrapped the other around Blair’s waist. “We’re too old to drown our sorrows. I always feel like crap the next morning.”

“Are we too old to pick up strange girls in bars, too?” Blair said as she walked with Diane to the sofa.

“Sadly, I think we might be.” Diane stood the bottle on the end table next to the sofa and settled into the corner. The drapes were open, the room lights off, the city aglow outside. “Is that what you want to do?”

Blair curled up next to Diane, their shoulders lightly touching. “When I’m this angry, fucking someone keeps me from punching walls.”

“Not always. I seem to remember a couple of dents in our dorm room door, way back when.”

Blair smiled thinly. “I wasn’t as accomplished at picking up girls back then.”

“If you want to go out,” Diane said calmly, “I’ll go with you. If you want to find a stranger to fuck your anger away on, I’ll watch your back.”

“I can’t,” Blair said softly. “Goddamn her. I can’t.”

Diane eased an arm around Blair’s shoulders, drew her close, and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s have some wine.”

Blair closed her eyes and tried not to think about how desolate she felt when Cam walked out the door.

Chapter Ten

Cam ran, barely registering the driving rain as she pounded south toward the lights of Union Station. Her windbreaker had no hood, but she didn’t mind the cold water whipping her face and barely registered the steady trickle down her collar, soaking her T-shirt. For the first few blocks, she ran through the nearly deserted streets without thinking, her mind hazy with anger and an undercurrent of sick fear. She hadn’t been an investigator for more than a dozen years without learning how to ask questions that left no room for evasion.

Tell me that whatever went on between Diane and Valerie didn’t happen anywhere near you.

Blair hadn’t answered, because Blair wouldn’t lie to her. And that was answer enough. It angered her that Blair would keep something like this from her, but even more it frightened her that Valerie had somehow made contact and Blair’s security team hadn’t detected it. Because if Stark had known, she would have informed Cam immediately. Cam was certain of that. The ramifications of the scenario were blood-chillingly clear—if Valerie was a target and someone tried to take her out of the picture when she was anywhere near Blair, Blair could become collateral damage. Blair had been unprotected. Blair had been vulnerable.

Cam’s stomach rebelled at the images her mind projected in a relentless stream—a glimmer of movement on a rooftop before a bullet tore into her chest, a vehicle exploding into a lethal inferno, a firestorm of smoke and death outside the Aerie. Each time, Blair as the target.

“Goddamn it,” she seethed. She felt as if she were always one step behind. How much longer could her luck hold up? How much longer could Blair’s? Sooner or later, Blair would be caught in someone’s crossfire, and Cam couldn’t let that happen. The thought was beyond anything she could even allow into her consciousness. Blair would just have to understand that her safety was more important than her freedom.

Cam squinted in the steady downpour as she approached an intersection and automatically glanced to her right as she started across with the light. Headlights shimmered through a curtain of water halfway up the block, and it wasn’t until she was in the middle of the street that she registered the sound of an engine accelerating. She looked right again and dove toward the far sidewalk as a vehicle barreled down on her. The next instant something solid grazed her right hip and she was airborne. She crashed down, rolling out of her fall as best she could while reaching for her weapon. Stunned by the impact, it took her a second to remember she didn’t have her weapon or her cell phone or even her wallet. Like an idiot, she’d left the apartment with nothing but the clothes on her back. When she pushed herself to her knees, the vehicle had disappeared around the corner.

Stiffly, she got to her feet and swayed for a minute until she got her balance. It all happened so quickly, she could almost believe it hadn’t happened except for the throbbing in her right shoulder and hip, which had taken the worst of the glancing blow. When she swiped at the moisture on her face she saw a streak of blood on her hand. She ignored it, thinking she must have scraped her hand when she hit the ground. Ignoring the pain shooting through her right side, she turned back the way she’d come and ran as fast as she could. By the time she reached her building and shoved through the glass doors into the lobby, she was gasping for breath and staggering from a cramp in her side.

Wozinski rushed toward her. “Commander!”

Cam braced one arm against the desk where the doorman usually sat and gasped, “I’m okay. Get…Stark here.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed against the raw ache that accompanied every breath. Running in the cold air seemed to have exacerbated the swelling in her injured throat. “Savard, too.” She glanced toward the elevators, almost terrified to ask. “Egret?”

“Upstairs, Commander.”

The relief was so intense her legs nearly buckled, but she waved Wozinski away when he took another step toward her. “Just winded. Make the calls.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“No one else comes up,” Cam rasped on her way to the elevator. Once inside, she pulled off her windbreaker and mopped up some of the water and grit from her hair and face. Glancing down as she crossed the foyer, she realized the right knee of her sweatpants was torn out. Grimacing, she tapped on her door. “Blair? Blair, it’s Cam. I don’t have my keys.”

After a moment, Cam heard the sound of footsteps approaching. As soon as the door started to open, she held onto the handle so Blair couldn’t see her. “I’m okay, but I took a little bit of a spill.”

“A spill?” Blair pulled against the resistance from the other side, instantly attuned to the hoarseness in Cam’s voice. “Sweetheart?”

Cam leaned against the doorjamb, pale and shivering. “Rough run.”

“There’s blood on your face and neck,” Blair gasped, grasping Cam’s shoulders. When Cam winced, Blair slid her arm down around her waist. “What happened?”

“Oh my God,” Diane exclaimed from across the room. “Should I call an ambulance?”

“No.” Cam struggled not to cough. “I just need to sit down a second.”

“Put some coffee on, would you, Di.” Blair switched on a nearby table lamp. “I’m going to help her get cleaned up.”

“Stark and Savard are on their way. I need to—”

“Be quiet and let me look at you.” Blair framed Cam’s face and studied her eyes, some of her fear dissipating when she saw that they were clear. She gently touched a jagged scrape along the right side of Cam’s jaw. “Where else are you hurt?”

“Bumps and bruises.” Cam tried not to limp as she and Blair started down the hallway to the bedroom. “It’s not serious, baby.”

“What happened?” Blair repeated as soon as they were in the bedroom. She quickly got two large towels from the bathroom and tossed them onto the foot of the bed. Then she gently lifted Cam’s T-shirt and guided it off over her head. After draping one of the towels around Cam’s shoulders, she untied her sweatpants and eased them down and off. “Oh, sweetheart.”

Gently, she brushed her fingertips over the discolored, swollen areas on Cam’s shoulder and hip. “You didn’t fall.”

“Somebody tried to run me down,” Cam said, slowly making her way to the bathroom. “I need to get a fast shower. Stark and Savard should be here in a minute.”

Blair turned on the water, her motions sharp and angry. She needed the anger, because the thought of how much worse it might have been made her want to scream. “Who was it? Did you see?”

“No.” Cam groaned softly as the hot water hit her rapidly stiffening back and hips. “Couldn’t see a thing except headlights.”

“It was deliberate?” Blair ran the towel through her hands over and over, wanting more than ever to hit something. To hurt—no, annihilate—whoever had attempted to kill her lover, to take someone precious from her. The pain of just thinking of it was so huge she shook.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Blair whispered. “If you hadn’t been angry with me, you wouldn’t have gone—”

“Bullshit, Blair,” Cam said mildly, stepping out of the shower and accepting the towel Blair held out for her. “Baby, if it was anyone’s fault, it was mine. I wasn’t paying attention, and whoever it was probably followed me from here. I didn’t have my weapon or my phone. Fucking idiot.” Roughly, she toweled her hair until it was dry enough for her to finger comb it back out of her face. “Would you mind grabbing me some jeans and a shirt.”

“Here,” Blair said a moment later. She helped Cam with the buttons and zipper even though Cam didn’t need her to, because she had to do something, other than slam doors and swear. “I’ll get you some ibuprofen too. From the looks of those bruises, you’re going to be sore.”

When Blair started to turn away, Cam gently caught her by the shoulders and stopped her. “I’m okay. You’ve given me a worse thumping in the training ring.”

Blair turned in the circle of Cam’s arms. “I might have bloodied you, but I’ve never tried to hurt you.” She rested her cheek against Cam’s shoulder. “God, I can’t believe someone tried to run you down. I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“I shouldn’t have gone. I’m sorry.”

“I was so pissed off at you for leaving.” Blair was starting to shake as her anger dissipated. “You beat me to it.”