Allison forced her excitement down. 880’s foot had twitched again when she’d given him another sponge bath. He had ticklish feet. His penis had also jerked when she’d had to shift it to clean him.

Of course that could have happened when he was at Medical at NSO Homeland. Destiny might not have reported it, thinking it was meaningless or embarrassing. No-movement reports should mean that he was completely unresponsive.

She dried 880’s body, covered him and finished the morning routine she’d kept for the past few days. His color seemed better. It might just be wishful thinking, but she’d take it. In a few days she’d have to use that disposable cell phone to call the NSO to pick him up.

They’ll pick me up too. Fear gripped her hard.

She had risked her career, her medical license, and far worse. They could send her to prison for a few years at the very least for kidnapping or a judge could put her away for life since any transgression against a New Species might be deemed a hate crime.

New Species were protected. They’d been given special status after hate groups had attacked them and a worldwide outcry had been made.

The public had watched as Fury—one of the New Species—had taken bullets meant to kill his fully human wife. Things like that tended to piss off people. Fury and Ellie living together had been huge news and their romance was often commented on since they continued to thrive.

She personally knew the couple and could state with ease that they were deeply in love and happy. Envy welled over how close they seemed and how well matched they were despite their different backgrounds. Love had conquered all in their situation and it was romantic. They’d had a baby boy she personally adored when he was brought to her for his checkups. Salvation was the spitting image of his father and living proof that some things had a happy outcome.

“I’m going to take these towels and washcloths outside to let them dry in the sun and dump the trash.” She tucked the blanket more firmly around his waist, left his chest bare, and hoped he was comfortable. “It’s getting warm, isn’t it? That storm blew away and left us some nice sunshine.”

He didn’t answer and it was depressing. Her hope faded daily that he’d ever open his eyes.

She’d tried to save him by following her hunch that scent could reach him but he would have shown some improvement if it were that easy. A loud sigh passed her lips. She grabbed the trash bag next to his bed and the pail of water with the discarded washcloths.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” The statement made her bite back a snort.

It was a beautiful day as she walked out the back door to reach the side of the house and the special trash can she’d brought for medical disposal. She dumped the bag inside it and paused in the yard. She carefully hung the towels and washcloths on the clothesline to dry. The place didn’t have a washer or dryer but it did have a huge tub in the mudroom for hand-washing items and a long rope strung out between trees for drying.

A soft hum left her parted lips as she finished her chore. She missed music. Birds flew overhead, startled from a nearby tree, and she smiled as she headed back toward the house. She was almost to the back door when movement caught her attention. She turned her head and gasped.

Four large men wearing black outfits rushed at her from behind the shed. Their faces were covered with black ski masks and they clutched big, scary guns. More sound came from behind her but she didn’t have time to glance back. Terror struck and a scream burst out before one of them reached her.

A big body hit her in the chest, pain exploded through her from the brutal tackle and she slammed hard into the ground with a lot of weight crushing her. The air was knocked from her lungs, cutting off her scream and making breathing impossible. Her attacker rolled over before she recovered.

Her face was pushed into the grass as a gloved hand fisted her hair. A knee painfully dug into her ass too. Her mind reeled between pain and shock from the attack.

“I got her!” His voice was loud as he announced that to the group.

More rough hands touched her, groped her body, her sides, and she managed to suck in a gasping breath. Her wrists were shoved in a painful position and held at her mid-back. It really hurt—the hold was too tight and the angle of her arms was uncomfortable.

“She’s clean. No weapons.”

“That was fucking easy.”

“Good thing. The only heat signatures we’re picking up are hers and the stationary one. He’s here and she is alone.”

“Find the New Species and get him.”

Terror filled her. She was sure the men weren’t New Species and it meant they could hurt 880.

She struggled hard. The hands gripping her wrists jerked them high enough to cause agony and she screamed again.

Wood hit something, banged loudly, and a vicious snarl ripped through the yard. The scary noise sent her into panic mode. They had an attack dog. 880 was helpless on the bed and it could maul him. He couldn’t fight it off.

Allison struggled as though she were a wild thing, every protective instinct inside her going crazy to reach 880’s side. She threw her head back. Pain exploded through her skull when it slammed it into someone’s chin. The guy hissed a curse and shoved her head down again with a rough hand that fisted her hair. Another scream tore from her throat.

“No!” A man yelled that. The attack dog snarled again and something hit the house nearby.

“Shit!” A man screamed one word before the knee lifted off her butt where it had her pinned down.

“Don—” The other guy holding her wrists roughly jerked on her but let go.

Allison saw a black blur of movement from the corner of her eye, turned her cheek on the grass, and was shocked when one of the uniformed men landed hard on his back about five feet away. A loud snarl emanated from the vicious attack dog and he seemed to be right over her head. An image of it attacking her with sharp teeth sent panic coursing through her and her head snapped up to get a look at the thing about to end her life.

880 crouched inches away, naked and bleeding from his arm where he’d ripped out the IV drip.

His nose also bled. She guessed that was from him forcibly removing his feeding tube. The catheter and bag were gone too. She got a good view of its loss since her face was inches from his lap. Her gaze met brown eyes, confusion clouding them as he stared back. His mouth opened to reveal his sharp canines. He snarled at her.

It took Alli’s staggered mind seconds to figure out that 880 was awake, outside, and had come to her rescue. The men who’d held her down had been thrown away from her because 880 had attacked them.

“880,” she managed to whisper.

His eyes widened as he swayed before landing hard on his bare ass. Allison moved, frantic to help him, and realized the sheer amount of adrenaline he must have exhausted to reach her after being down for so long. A human couldn’t have done what he had. An ordinary man would have been too weak to sit up, but he’d managed that miracle with his New Species strength.

“880,” she whispered again, lifted to her knees and crawled the few feet to where he’d landed.

“You’re awake.”

She tried to touch him but his hand shot out and hit her in the chest. The rough shove threw her back. She landed on her ass and her left breast ached from the impact with his palm. He growled at her.

“Technician.” His voice came out hoarse, his unused vocal cords straining to work.

His eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed to sprawl motionless on his back. Worry filled her and she fought to reach him again. He breathed but had passed out as she checked his unsteady pulse. Her other hand gripped his arm where he bled from the torn-out IV and she pressed her thumb over the wound to staunch the bleeding.