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Then she was dragging him onto his back and her weapon was in her hand. At his throat.

“Eve.” Roarke stood where he was, a foot away, and kept his voice quiet.

“I told you to stay with her. Stay out of this.” She stared into the bleeding, weeping face under hers. And God help her, she could see her father.

Her weapon was on full stun—not fatal. Except when pressed directly to a pulse. She jammed it harder against his throat. And wanted to, craved.

“You’ve beaten him. You’ve stopped him.” Suffering with her, Roarke moved closer, crouched down, and looked into her eyes. “Taking that next step, it’s not your way. It’s not who you are.”

Her finger trembled on the trigger. Little bullet points of ice hissed and cracked against the ground, pricked her skin. “It could be.”

“No.” He brushed a gentle hand over her hair. “Not anymore.”

“No.” She shuddered, shifted her weapon. “Not anymore.”

While the man beneath her cried for his mother, she rose. On the pavement, Simon curled into a ball. Hot tears cut through the happy color he’d painted on his face.

And made him pitiful.

Beaten, Eve thought. Destroyed. Over.

“I need you to get a couple of uniforms back here,” she said to Roarke. “I don’t have my restraints.”

“I have mine.” Feeney crossed the pavement. “I still had my communicator tuned for her and McNab. The boy and I got here right behind you.” He held her gaze for a moment. “Good job, Dallas. I’ll take him in for you. You oughta go check on your aide.”

“Yeah, okay.” She wiped blood from her face, unsure if it was Simon’s or her own. “Thanks, Feeney.”

Roarke wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Neither of them had stopped for a coat. Her shirt was soaked through, and she was just starting to shiver. “Around or up?”

“Up.” She glanced at the iron steps above her head. “It’s quicker. “Give me a boost and I’ll pull you up after me.”

He cupped his hands, and lifted when she set her boot in them, then watched as she vaulted agilely onto the platform. “I’ll wait for you out front,” he told her. “You’ll want a little time with her.”

“Yeah, I do.” She stayed there, kneeling in the wind. Her nose was beginning to run, from the cold, from the storm of emotion still beating inside her. “I couldn’t do it, Roarke. I wondered if I could. I was afraid I could. But when it came down to it, I couldn’t.”

“I know it. You’ve grown your own way, Eve.” He reached up and squeezed the hand she held down to him. “Go inside, you’re cold. I’ll be in the car.”

It had been easier, Eve realized, to go out of the window than to talk herself back in. She took a couple of bracing breaths, then pushed up the window and tossed her leg over the sill.

Peabody sat in bed, wrapped in a blanket with a white-faced McNab’s arm around her.

“She’s okay,” he said quickly. “He didn’t . . . She’s just shaken up. I told the uniforms to stay out there.”

“That’s good. We’re under control here, McNab. Go on home, get some rest.”

“I . . . I can bunk on the couch if you want,” he said to Peabody.

“No. Thanks. Really. I’m okay.”

“I’ll just—” He didn’t have a clue what to do or how to do it and rose awkwardly. “Should I report in the morning, to close this out?”

“Day after’s soon enough. Take your Christmas. You earned it.”

He managed a quick grin at Eve. “Yeah, guess we all did. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“He was really nice.” Peabody let out a long breath when he left the room. “He kept everyone out, and got me loose and just let me sit. Closed the window because I was cold. So cold. God.” She covered her face with her hands.

“Do you want me to take you to a health center?”

“No, I’m okay. A little woozy yet. Worse, I guess, ’cause I’d had a few drinks before I got home. You got him, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I got him.”

Peabody dropped her hands. She fought to keep her face blank and calm, but her eyes were stark. “Is he alive?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I thought . . .”

“So did I. I didn’t.”

Abruptly the tears welled up and overflowed. “Oh man. Shit. Here it comes.”

“Okay, let it rip.” Eve sat down, wrapped her arms around Peabody and held