“You’re charged with attempted murder,” Rachel said flatly.

Lomez tapped his damp hands against his thighs. Even his bones were screaming. “I didn’t kill the old bitch.”

Rachel wished she hadn’t finished the coffee. At least she could have used it to wash some of the disgust out of her mouth. “You stuck a knife in her, three times. The officer responding pursued you as you fled the scene—with the knife and the victim’s purse. They’ve got you cold, Lomez, and your priors aren’t going to make the judge think leniency. Your repertoire includes assault, assault and battery, breaking and entering and two counts of possession.”

“I don’t need a list. I need bail.”

“Odds are slim the DA’s going to agree to bail, and if he does, it’ll be well out of your range. Now I’m going to do what I can to get him to toss the attempted murder. You plead guilty to—”

“Guilty, my butt.”

“It’s going to be your butt,” she said evenly. “You’re not going to walk away from this one, Lomez. No matter how many rabbits I pull out of my hat, you’re not going to do short time this turn around. Plead guilty to assault with a deadly weapon, it’s likely I can swing the judge for seven to ten.”

Sweat popped cold on his brow, on his lips. “The hell with that.”

Because she was fast running out of patience, she slapped his file closed. “It won’t get any sweeter. You cooperate, and I should be able to keep you from spending the next twenty years in a cage.”

He screamed at her, then leaped across the table and struck before she had a chance to dodge. The backhanded blow knocked her out of her chair and onto the floor, where he fell on her. “You get me out!” He squeezed his hands on her throat, too wired even to feel her nails rake his wrist. “You bitch, you get me out or I’ll kill you!”

At first she could only see his face, the sick rage in it. Then it faded as red dots swam in front of her eyes. Choking, she struck out, smashing the heel of her hand against the bridge of his nose. His blood splattered over her, but his hands tightened.

A roaring filled her ears, buzzing over the wild curses he shouted at her. The red dots faded to gray as she bucked under him.

Then her windpipe was free and she was sucking air down her burning throat. Someone was calling her name, desperately, and she was being lifted, held tight. She thought she smelled the scent of the sea before she fell limply into it.

Cool fingers on her face. Wonderful. Strong hands clasped hard over hers. Comforting. A sigh before waking. Agony.

Rachel blinked her eyes open. Two faces were looming over hers, equally grim, with eyes that held both rage and fear. Woozily she lifted a hand to Zack’s cheek, then Alex’s. “I’m all right.” Her voice was husky, bruises already forming on her throat.

“Just lie still,” Alex murmured in Ukrainian, stroking her head with a hand that still throbbed from where it had connected with Lomez’s face. “Can you drink some water?”

She nodded. “I want to sit up.” As she focused on the room, she realized she was lying on the faded couch in the captain’s office. Murmuring her thanks to her brother, she sipped from the paper cup he held to her lips. “Lomez?”

“In a cage, where he belongs.” Fighting off the tremors of reaction, Alex lowered his brow to hers. He continued to speak in Ukrainian, kissing her brow, her cheeks, then sitting back on his heels to hold her hand. “You just relax. An ambulance is on the way.”

“I don’t need an ambulance.” Reading the argument in his eyes, she shook her head. “I don’t.” She glanced down to see that her blouse was gaping open. It was ruined, of course, she thought in disgust. That and her suede skirt were spotted with blood. “His blood, not mine,” she pointed out.

“You broke his slimy low-life nose,” Alex snapped.

“I’m glad my self-defense class wasn’t wasted.” When he began to swear, she caught his hand. “Alexi,” she began, her voice low, intense. “Do you know what it is for me to accept that you risk your life every day, every night? Do you know I accept only because I love you so much?”

“Don’t turn this around on me,” he said furiously. “That bastard nearly killed you. He was so far gone it took three of us to drag him off.”

She didn’t want to think about that just yet. She couldn’t. “I played it wrong.”

“You—”

“I did,” she insisted. “But the point is, we can’t change what we are. I won’t change, not even for you. Now cancel the ambulance and do something for me.”

He called her a name, a rude one, in their native language. It made her smile. “I’m no more of a horse’s ass than you. I need to contact my office and explain. I won’t be able to represent Lomez under the circumstances.”

“Damn right you won’t.” It was small satisfaction, but he could hope for little more. Gently he touched his fingers to the bruise on her cheekbone. “He’s going down, Rachel. I’ll make damn sure he goes down for this, if nothing else. There’s nothing you or anyone else can do.”

“That’s for the courts to decide.” She got shakily to her feet. “And you will not call Mama and Papa.” When he said nothing, she lifted a brow. “If you do, I’ll have to tell them about your last undercover assignment. The one where you went through the second-story window.”

“Go home,” he said, giving up. “Get some rest.” He turned away from her to study Zack. His opinion of him had changed a bit, since Zack had been one of the three who’d hauled Lomez off Rachel. Alex had been a cop long enough to recognize murder in a man’s eyes, and it had shone darkly in Zack’s. He assumed, correctly, that Zack would have dealt with Lomez himself, regardless of cops, if he hadn’t been so busy cradling Rachel in his arms. “You’ll get her there.” It wasn’t a question.

“Count on it.” He said nothing else as Alex left them.

Unsteady, and far from sure of herself, Rachel tried to smile. “Some date, huh?”

A muscle jumped in his jaw as he studied her spattered blouse. “Can you walk?”

“Of course I can walk.” She hoped. The little seed of annoyance his terse question planted helped her get across the room. “Look, I’m sorry things got messed up this way. You don’t have to—”