Free Kiss of a Dark Moon by Sharie Kohler Page B

preservation of humanity. How could he justify that murder? When had the lines between right and wrong, good and evil, become so blurred?
    â€œIt won’t take me long,” Rafe promised, meaning it.
    Laurent sent him a probing, thoughtful look, and Rafe schooled his features into his usual mask of impassivity.
    The quicker Rafe finished with Kit March and her brother, the better for everyone, and the sooner he could move on to his next assignment. There were others. Assignments waiting not half as difficult as Kit. Turning, he strode across the lawn.
    Perhaps he should quit. Join up with his brother. He missed Sebastian, hadn’t seen him in years. Too many years to count. Ironic, considering the times they had nearly killed each other growing up.
    Restlessness stirred in his heart. He dragged a hand over his bristly jaw. It was time to move on. To put this job behind him. To play it straight for once. No more pretending to be something he wasn’t. Rafe winced. He would always have to do that. To a degree. He had no choice. There was nowhere and no one with whom he could ever be his true self.
    The idea of quitting EFLA had never sounded better. The sooner he did, the sooner he could forget a woman he had no business thinking about as anything more than an assignment.
    Especially considering he was also a descendant of Christophe Marshan. And the prophecy EFLA feared would come to pass with Kit March had already occurred—with him.

CHAPTER 9
    K it parked across the street from her grandmother’s house, her current residence and the only home she’d ever known. Or rather, the only home she remembered .
    Home . If it could be called that.
    Even at the age of eight, she’d felt more like a tenant, a temporary resident, unwanted and unwelcome.
    Even now her grandmother made sure of that, collecting rent and Kit’s share of the utilities at the first of every month, seeing to it that Kit purchased her own groceries and never ate a scrap of the food she’d bought and prepared.
    Kit did not mind pulling her own weight. She only wished her grandmother would see her as something other than an unwanted obligation thrust on her in the golden years of her life. See her as family. See her at all.
    Resting her hands on the steering wheel, she scanned the street, looking for anything unusual or out of place. Her grandmother bore the last name of Carlson. Kit doubted she could be traced through her.
    Still, coming here felt risky.
    Instinct urged her to hit the highway and not stop until she reached New Mexico. Rafe Santiago was not finished with her.
    And yet the thought of the weapons and ammo she kept locked in the chest at the foot of her bed stopped her. And then there was the cross. The gold cross her mother had worn around her neck every day of her life. Even though Kit could not bring herself to wear it, it was precious to her. She couldn’t leave it behind.
    Not to mention the extra cash she kept in her sock drawer. The three hundred odd dollars in last week’s tips would come in handy. She knew she could go to her bank. But she also knew that EFLA would be alerted once she made a withdrawal. Considering a lot of agents for NODEAL were cops—like Cooper—she wouldn’t make it out of the city before being arrested. They likely already had an APB out on her. She would need to ditch her car at the first opportunity.
    After several more moments of surveying the quiet neighborhood, she slipped her gun from her purse and secured it in the waistband of her jeans, out of sight beneath her shirt. Sliding out from behind the wheel, she crossed the street to the one-story ranch-style house, her gaze darting around her, ever alert as she entered the house.
    She had thought of moving out, countless times. After high school. After college. Hell, she’d even thought of running away before she finished high school—when Gideon had moved out and the loneliness had seemed too much to