“I thought I’d seen the last of this damned hospital.”

Dar walked beside Tristan in the third floor corridor of Creekmore General. Mitchell had stopped at the nurse’s station to ask of Brentwood’s whereabouts while they went to find Jocelyn Chalmers.

“If Rachel and I have kids down the road, we’ll expect you to be here for the deliveries. Get used to the place.”

“Kids? “ Dar couldn’t contain the incredulity in his voice. “You mean we’ll have mini- teleporters running around? Damn, babysitting could get interesting if the kids turn invisible at will.”

Laughing, they came up on Jocelyn’s room. Kids. Damn. He couldn’t imagine having children. He’d never met a woman-

Someone blindsided him in the doorway, knocking him into Tristan. “Help me, please. They’re coming.”

A tiny, petite woman shook him. Her dark, nearly black eyes were wide with fright, her hands shaking where they clutched his biceps. Dark bruises covered the left side of her face and circled her eye, with a mishmash of scratches marring her forehead and nose. She had a split upper lip and a chin scraped and dotted with blood.

The injuries disgusted Dar, anger pumping through his veins like a hydrant. Yet, even disfigured, her beauty stunned him. The woman was freaking hot. Shoving her behind him, he looked inside the room. Empty.

Holding his arm in a vice grip, she peeked around him, her breath coming in short spurts. “Are they here?”

Looking over his shoulder, he met her fearful gaze. “No, you’re safe.” She shook her head vigorously. “No. I’m not. They’re coming.” “Who? Who’s after you?”

Stilling, her eyes searched his face with frantic movements – before she passed out. “Shit.”

Catching her, Dar lifted her into his arms. The woman weighed no more than a pillow. He carried her to the rumpled hospital bed.

“Jocelyn Chalmers, I assume?”

Tristan followed him inside. “Yes. Damn, that car really did some damage.” He went to the opposite side of the bed.

Dar pulled up the covers to her chin. “She’s terrified of someone, isn’t she?”

“Hell Naylor, we saw them hold a gun to her head that night in the electronics store. When Monroe time traveled to the past, she asked him to bring her back.”

“She rode in that time machine with those bastards?” Tristan nodded with a cocked brow. “Yeah. Ballsy, huh?”

A fierce, protective streak shot through Dar. He wanted Tristan to teleport him back to D.I.R.E. so he could help Mitchell interrogate the spy they’d captured last night. He’d show the guy some freaking fear.

Mitchell strode into the room and motioned for them to step away from the bed. He lowered his voice. “Brentwood said she has hysterical amnesia. She has no memories before the hospital. She doesn’t even know her own name.”

“Her subconscious remembers.” Dar nodded toward her. “A minute ago, she tore out of the room, terrified.”

Mitchell stared at her still form. “Other than her concussion, she’s got a boatload of cuts and bruises, and a sprained elbow. She’s a tough cookie.”

Jocelyn didn’t look so tough to him. Right now, she looked completely vulnerable, like a little girl lying in a bed too big for her.

“So, are you transferring her to D.I.R.E?” Dar really didn’t want her near that spy.

“No, “ Mitchell said. “I’ll leave her here for now and send down a couple of agents to guard the room.”

Dar crossed his arms in front of him. “I’ll stay.”

Tristan’s gaze shot to him. “You just said you hated this place.” He frowned at his brother. “I’m not leaving her alone.”

“She wouldn’t be alone, Naylor,” Mitchell said. “Did you miss the part about the two agents?”

Damn, Mitchell had a sarcastic streak to match his own. “No. I’m not leaving her alone.” Tristan smothered a grin.

Mitchell shook his head. “Don’t even go there, Naylor.” He held out a hand, palm up. “Where?”

Mitchell pointed at Jocelyn. “There. Way too many complications.”

Jocelyn sat bolt upright, gasping for breath. Her dark, wild gaze searched the room before zeroing in on Dar. Twin tears trailed down her flush cheeks. “Help me.”

Dar rushed to the bed, his gut clenched in a tight knot. Dammit, the woman was petrified. He helped her lay back. “I’m here. You’re safe. Go back to sleep.” He pulled up the covers again and sat beside her.

Teardrops hung on her long lashes. “You won’t leave?”

His heart constricted like a stress ball. “No. Now sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” “Promise?” Her voice shook.

He gave a firm nod. “I promise.” She fell fast asleep, snoring lightly.

Dar watched her sleep. Why had she fixated on him? Why, in her nightmarish state, had she turned to him, the only criminal in the room, for safety?

Did it matter? If he could help this beautiful, confused woman from the past, he’d do it. The idea that she needed him appealed to Dar on a level he’d never traversed before.

He looked back at Mitchell. “I’m already there, Mitchell, and have nowhere else to go.