a linebacker, his momentum carrying them both into the marble wall next

gging into her trapezius muscles like iron claws. He wasn't trying to strangle h

groaned, leaning

rom her sleeve. It hit the carpet with a dull thud

she choked out. "

s massive frame. Imogene turned her face away as his head dropped to he

melled pepperm

d somethi

This was the switch. The "Saint" taking over. She stopped s

. The tremors were rhythmic, clonic. His pupils were dilated

acking her. H

ed. The rumors about his e

is eyes wild. He looked at her neck, his teeth bared. It was a primal reaction,

outh, moving to

arm from between their bodies. She swung

, like a pistol cra

e. The shock interrupted the feedback loo

oice wasn't the waitress's anymore.

e red haze in his eyes seemed to clear slightly. He saw

to the pressure points at the base of his skull, right behi

n," she ordered.

head-the static, the screaming data-began to recede, replaced b

oulders loosened.

er, landing in a heap on the expensive carpet. Kenan ended up on his knees, his f

." he

mic massage. She knew the anatomy of the cranial nerves better t

like a furnace. Imogene shivered, her thin uniform

wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in the coarse fabric of her

. It was terrif

ush him away. She should find a way to override the door. But

hispered again, his vo

n the orphanages in Eastern Europe, a lullaby with no

ly drained from Kenan's body. His breathing deep

was

ne was fading. She grabbed his arm and pulled. He was solid muscle. It took everything she had

knees. Her shoulder throbbed where he had grabbed he

the tech world. He looked like a

checked his pulse on

he whispered to the u