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With superhuman strength, he half twisted his body, enough to bring a bent arm up in a lightning-fast move, and put his full weight behind it. Fingers spread, Zak jammed the heel of his hand up under the guy’s chin and dug his fingers into his opponent’s eye sockets. The bruising blow to the chin made the soldier’s hold loosen, while blood spurted from his bitten tongue. Zak grabbed him by the hair and gave him a swift knee to the balls. With a shriek, the man dropped to writhe on the floor. Whimpering, he clutched his hands between his legs.
    â€œTwo to go.” Picking up the Uzi, Acadia realized it was heavier than the shotguns and rifles she’d handled at the sporting goods store where she worked. She knew the basics, though she’d never fired an automatic weapon, but it didn’t take an action hero to know which end to point in which direction.
    â€œGreat. A naked blonde with an automatic,” Zak drawled. “You’re giving these guys their fondest wet dream.”
    â€œHelp or shut the hell up,” she snapped. She didn’tmake eye contact—with any of them—as she swung the business end of the Uzi from man to man. At this range she couldn’t miss, and they knew it.
    Suddenly someone grabbed both bare breasts from behind. Hauled off her feet, she was slammed against the wall face-first. The Uzi went flying, clattering to the floor across the room as the man pressed his entire body weight against her and pinned her to the wall.
    Sound was obliterated by the hard drumbeat of her own terrified blood racing through her veins and the ringing in her ears. Face smashed against the wall, Acadia’s vision darkened around the edges. Don’t faint don’t faint don’t faint .
    Choking on her tears and the black rage pouring through her, Acadia reached behind her, digging her short nails into the man’s hand, which was wedged between them.
    Nothing was going to stop what was about to happen. She knew that. And yet she kept fighting, finding more hidden strength when she was sure she couldn’t find one more drop.
    Somewhere, over the din of her own fear, she heard shouts, but they were meaningless. Her survival instinct filled every atom of consciousness.
    The loud crack of a gunshot, from very close range, made her world stand still.
    The hot, sweaty weight of the man slid in grotesque slow motion down her bare back; then he crumpled to the floor behind her with a heavy thud. Acadia couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. But her internalorgans shrank as something warm, wet, and too horrific for her brain to identify dripped slowly down her naked back.
    Afraid to turn around and see what had just happened, Acadia was relieved by what had not happened.
    â€œPorqué está desnuda esa puta?” (Why is the whore naked?) an authoritative gravelly voice ground out in rapid-fire Spanish.

TWO
    A cadia had no idea who he was, but whether it was the newcomer or Zak who’d … gotten rid of … the soldier, she was profoundly grateful. She knew she had to turn around and face whatever was about to happen. But God—she couldn’t move. She was aware of scuffling, of thumps and groans, but it was as if someone had hit the Mute button.
    She needed a moment—a lifetime, or an all-inclusive therapy session—to center herself. It took everything she had to lever her shell-shocked, blood-splattered body off the wall. Feeling a thousand years old and as fragile as glass, Acadia turned around and numbly observed that the room now contained more armed men than there’d been moments before.
    A tall, skinny guy in cargo fatigues lowered his gun to his side as he surveyed the room with clear displeasure. “Porqué lleva tanto tiempo?” No, not a man at all. A woman, with a low, rough voice that rang through the small room and stopped everyone in their tracks more effectively than the last gunshot