Darkest Before Dawn

by Maya Banks

  “It’s below the house. And the signature is faint. I’m betting on a basement secure room. Reinforced walls. Just the kind of place a prisoner would be kept.”

  It was the fact that Skylar had said the heat source was completely still that panicked Hancock. And that it was faint. But no. Heat meant life. And if Skylar was right and it was a subroom with reinforced walls, that would explain the faintness of the signal. But not the stillness.

  But she was alive, and that was all he could focus on or he’d lose his mind.

  “Give me cover,” Hancock said quietly. “The subfloor is mine.”

  Rio swore. “Not without backup. Don’t even argue with me.”

  Hancock smiled faintly. “You don’t lead me anymore, Rio.”

  “That doesn’t mean you still aren’t goddamn mine,” Rio said in a savage tone.

  “Rio and I will have your six while the others clear a path,” Conrad said, siding with Rio.

  “Vehicle is stopped. Three men. No one else. They’re all inside. We need to move now,” Nathan said.

  “Go,” Sam barked.

  And all hell broke loose.

  Gunfire erupted. Explosions rocked the earth, nearly knocking Hancock to his knees, but Rio and Conrad were there to anchor him as they rushed inside the house, looking for the way down below the main floor.

  Resnick’s teams flooded the rooms, taking down every target in their way. Hancock’s only focus was on finding the way down. Rio and Conrad flanked him, but he didn’t slow or wait for their cover. He carried an assault rifle in one hand and a pistol in the hand on the side where he’d taken a bullet to his shoulder.

  An initial sweep of the downstairs brought them exactly nothing and Hancock swore viciously. What were they overlooking?

  “Calm down and focus,” Rio said quietly. Then he said into the com, “Sky, can you give us a position of the heat signature in the sublevel? We aren’t coming up with shit. We need your eyes.”

  “Center. Dead center,” came Skylar’s calm response. “You’re standing right over it. It’s there.”

  Hancock dropped to his knees, as did Conrad and Rio, and they felt along the floor for any sign of an entry. Then Hancock’s gaze rose and scanned the walls. A switch, of course. There wasn’t an obvious doorway and the flooring was seamless.

  “Get the switches,” he barked to Conrad. “Try them all. There’s a row of half a dozen on the right side of the room. One of them has to open the subfloor.”

  Conrad hurried and one by one began flipping the switches. On the last one, Rio nearly stumbled and fell right through the floor when a section smoothly began to slide open, revealing a set of stairs.

  Hancock wasted no time. Light was beaming upward, the tiny room flooded with bright light. He stormed down the stairs, prepared for the worst, but not even that could have prepared him for what he discovered.

  His knees locked and his stomach lurched when he saw the impossibly small cage suspended from the ceiling and Honor’s body curled into a tight ball, barely fitting into the prison.

  The cage began to lower and he glanced over in surprise to see Rio flipping a switch that made the cage slowly descend from the ceiling.

  Hancock rushed forward, his heart in his throat, and then it was nearly torn out of his chest when he got a good look at her.

  Her wrists and ankles were raw and bloody, her skin torn from the too-tight manacles. Why? She would have no way of escaping the cage. But then Maksimov enjoyed inflicting pain and misery.

  Oh God.

  He made a sound of a wounded animal and didn’t even realize it had come from him.

  Honor was a mess. Her hair a mass of tangles, face bruised and bloodied. Worse, on the floor beneath where the cage had been suspended was a fucking shock probe. And there were burn marks covering her body where Maksimov had obviously shocked her repeatedly.

  Tears blurred his vision and he roared with pent-up rage, his entire body shaking. He grabbed the bars as if by sheer will alone he could break them and free her.

  He was unstoppable. Rio and Conrad quickly saw the futility in trying to calm Hancock and instead searched for a way to open the cage. When they finally found it, Hancock had bloodied and skinned a good portion of his flesh from his hands in trying to break her free.

  Hancock flung open the door but then stopped, his frustration at a boiling point.

  “The key,” he rasped. “Where the fuck is the key to get her out of these fucking cuffs?”

  Conrad didn’t say anything. He just pushed forward, pulling a lock pick set from his fatigues, and set to work freeing Honor from her restraints.

  So wrapped up in trying to find and free Honor, Hancock hadn’t even noticed until now that her eyes were open. He froze, staring down at completely lifeless eyes. No spark. Dull as death. Absolutely no reaction, no evidence that she even knew they were there.

  He tentatively caressed her cheek, afraid that she might well shatter if he touched her.

  “Honor?”

  His voice was hoarse, laced with worry and choked with tears he couldn’t control. They streamed down his cheeks and he lowered his face to her hair as Conrad set to unlocking the last manacle holding her ankle.

  His entire body heaved as his tears soaked into her hair.

  “She’s free,” Conrad said in a low voice. “Let me carry her, Hancock. You know you aren’t strong enough. And if she wakes and sees you like this, you’ll scare the shit out of her.”

  Hancock reluctantly agreed but not for the reasons Conrad outlined. Hancock knew that if Honor regained awareness and saw Hancock, she’d look at him like the betrayer he was. Like the failure he was. Like a man who’d broken his promises to her time and time again.

  “Only until we get to the plane,” Hancock said fiercely. “Then I want her to have pain medication and a sedative. I don’t want her to wake up this way. Not here. Not on the plane. I want her to wake up in a place she knows she’s safe.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Conrad said, understanding the torment Hancock faced. “And Hancock, we all failed her. Not just you.”

  “I betrayed her,” Hancock said savagely. “I was the one who promised her I wouldn’t give her to Maksimov, that I’d find a way. I was the one who drugged her and didn’t tell her what we were doing. I’m the one who she thought betrayed her when she woke up with Maksimov’s hands on her. This is on me. Only me. And it’s me who’s going to have to live with it for the rest of my goddamn life.”

  CHAPTER 37

  “I just struck gold,” Donovan said, gleefully doing a fist pump as he leaned back from where he’d been feverishly hacking into Maksimov’s encrypted computer files.

  The plane had lifted into the air an hour ago and Honor lay in the small bedroom, sedated, while the others had sprawled in the sitting area on chairs, the couch and even the floor.

  One of Resnick’s teams had taken the other jet so they could keep close watch on Honor’s family. Sam had sent word ahead to Sean to lock down the compound, and that under no circumstances was anyone to go in or out of the secure area.

  It had already been decided that Nathan and Joe’s team would remain at the compound to ensure the safety of the family while every other available KGI member along with Titan would go after Maksimov.

  “Spill,” Hancock growled.

  He was the only one not seated and the one who needed to be resting the most, but he paced the small confines of the sitting area, his gaze going often to the door to the bedroom where Honor slept, which was left ajar just in case she awoke and panicked.

  “If it were anyone else, I’d suspect a trap,” Donovan said. “But Maksimov is an arrogant bastard who truly believes he’s invincible and is unstoppable. I have the coordinates, the place and the time he’s making the exchange with ANE and he’s gone ahead already. It’s why he wasn’t here. He’s negotiating with ANE and milking his ‘find’ for all its worth. He sent his men to bring Honor to him—and ANE. We have a dream scenario here. We can t
ake them both out at the same time. We’ll never get another opportunity like this, so we have to go in and get it done.”

  Sam frowned. “We don’t have the manpower for that kind of op. We’re good, but we’re vastly outnumbered and without the team guarding Honor’s family and Nathan and Joe’s team locking down the compound, we don’t have a chance in hell of taking both Maksimov and ANE out.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Resnick said fiercely. “I’m going all out on this. I have four SEAL teams I’m calling in. I have the two black ops teams, and I’m bringing three special forces units and the best of the best, army rangers and several airborne units. They won’t know what hit them. Uncle Sam would like nothing more than to kill two birds with one stone, and they’ll give us whatever the fuck we need to take them all down. For this mission? They’ll give me the fucking keys to the kingdom. And that’s a fact.”

  “You’ll need bait,” P.J. said thoughtfully. “Without evidence of Honor, we’ll never get close enough to take them out.”

  “No!” Cole exploded in fury, knowing exactly where she was going with this. Hancock could see the raw pain in Cole’s eyes and knew he was remembering the last time KGI had used bait—P.J.—and the horrific results. She’d been raped and brutalized and every single member of KGI still carried the weight of their guilt, but no one more than Cole.

  “It is not an option,” Cole said in an icy, furious tone. “I will not risk you again, P.J. You can’t expect me to let you. Not after . . .”

  He broke off, the words choking and dying in his voice, but tears glittered harshly in his eyes.

  “Of course she can’t,” Skylar said in a soothing voice, putting her hand on Cole’s arm, squeezing in a comforting gesture. “P.J. looks nothing like Honor. It would never work.”

  Relief made Cole go weak in the knees, and he dragged P.J. against his side, burying his face in her hair, and she let him, a testament to just how upset she knew her husband was.

  P.J. was not a woman to allow herself to seem weak or in need of protection or comfort in front of others. She was a fucking fierce warrior. Honor was every bit as fierce, just in a different way.

  “I would be the logical choice,” Skylar said calmly.

  The entire cabin exploded with a chorus that ranged from Hell no to Over my dead body! Edge stood, the big man seeming to take up the entire space of the already cramped cabin, his eyes glittering with rage.

  “You will not do this, Sky.”

  “You aren’t my team leader, Zane,” Skylar said gently, using his real name.

  The two roomed together and were close friends. Best friends. There was nothing romantic to their relationship. It was more one of close siblings. But that didn’t mean Edge wasn’t fiercely protective of her.

  “No, but we are,” Nathan said in a hard voice, thumbing his chest and then in Joe’s direction. “And we aren’t risking you as fucking bait. Never again will we put someone in the position P.J. was forced into. She paid the ultimate price and we damn near lost her. We will not lose you. And that’s an order.”

  Skylar sent them all an exasperated look. She and P.J. exchanged quick looks of sisterhood and the equivalent of a mental eye roll. They were highly trained, lethal weapons, equal to their male counterparts in the KGI organization, but above all, KGI cherished and protected their women. All of them. Wives, sisters, mothers. And even their teammates.

  “If we needed a male to use as bait, would any of you even hesitate to volunteer?” Skylar challenged. “I distinctly remember Nathan taking the place of the pilot of the plane that was going to fly Maren and Caldwell to wherever the fuck he was taking her. No one made any bones about risking him.”

  The KGI men exchanged uneasy looks because they were well and truly fucked. If they insisted on not risking Skylar, it sent the wrong message. That she wasn’t an equal when she was in every possible way. That they didn’t trust her to be able to take care of herself and do her job.

  “Just listen to me before you hand down your decree from on high,” Skylar said with heavy sarcasm.

  “Honor is small. We’re almost exactly the same height. She’s thinner than me, but she’s been through hell so that’s to be expected. But we’re both blond and I don’t have to get up close and personal for them to get a detailed look. They just need to see who they think is Honor trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey about to be delivered to ANE.

  “We bruise me up. Not literally,” she added hastily when every single expression in the plane blackened to rage. “Makeup is a useful tool. We make me appear as she was when we found her. And I’ll pretend unconsciousness, which they would expect since they seem to have a predilection for drugged women,” she added in disgust.

  “The point is, me being Honor gets us in. The rest is up to us, Resnick’s teams and whoever the hell else Uncle Sam decides to send. You know it’s a damn good plan and if you’d set aside your manly thirteenth-century egos for two seconds, you’d recognize that it’s the only way we achieve our objective.”

  “Well fuck,” Garrett muttered.

  Edge didn’t look any happier than he had in the beginning, but he pressed his lips together, obviously refusing to give voice to the torrent of objections he wanted to launch.

  “She’s right,” Sam said quietly. “Goddamn it, I don’t have to like it—I don’t like it. I fucking hate it—but she’s right. But I want her covered at all times.”

  P.J. reached over and squeezed Skylar’s hand. “Thank you. I didn’t intend for you to do it. I wasn’t setting you up to be the bait. I would have done it, dyed my hair, whatever. But . . .”

  She looked embarrassed and vulnerable, enough so for Cole to slide his hand around her nape and squeeze gently in comfort and support.

  “I’m not sure I could have done it,” P.J. admitted. “I don’t know if I could trust myself not to freak out, and that shames me, especially since I’m relieved that you’ll be doing it and not me. It makes me a fucking coward,” she added in disgust, emotion glittering brightly in eyes that were usually unreadable.

  Hancock had had enough of this brave woman browbeating herself when she was one of the fiercest women he’d ever known. He stalked over to her, ignoring the fact that Cole immediately bristled and tried to maneuver P.J. behind him.

  Hancock stopped in front of P.J. and knelt so he was on eye level with her.

  “Don’t you ever call yourself a fucking coward,” he said, allowing every bit of his pissed-off tone to be heard. “You have the heart of a warrior and you are one of the bravest people—that’s right, people, not women—I’ve ever known. I have no doubt you could take down every single one of your team members in a fight and they know it. We all know it. What you did, what you went through was the most selfless act I’ve ever witnessed. Until Honor . . .”

  He trailed off as sorrow filled his voice.

  Cole looked stunned by Hancock’s impassioned defense of P.J. Respect glimmered in his eyes as he and Hancock exchanged a look of understanding. The rest of KGI didn’t look any less astonished. Except Rio, who looked as though he would have expected nothing less.

  Hancock collected himself, because he wasn’t finished. He abruptly got up and then went to where Skylar sat, and as he had with P.J., he knelt and took both her hands in his, making sure his touch was gentle and not bruising because of the seething rage imprinted in his bones.

  “Thank you,” he said in a low voice. “For risking yourself for a woman you don’t know and for a dishonorable man who has caused much trouble for all of you in the past. I don’t deserve the help you are unconditionally offering, but you have my heartfelt gratitude—and know this.”

  He paused and speared her with his gaze, stared until he was sure she was looking directly at him, seeing him. The heart of him.

  “If there is ever a time when you need help. If you need anything at all, you only have to contact me. I’ll come. No matter what. I can never hope to repay my debt to you all, but I can only try.”
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br />   Skylar surprised him by leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him, hugging him carefully, ensuring she didn’t cause him further pain. He went stiff, caught totally off guard and not at all sure what he was supposed to do. Nobody hugged him. Except Honor. And his sister.

  “It will be all right, Hancock,” Skylar whispered close to his ear. “All is not lost. You’ve given up and you can’t do that. Is she worth fighting for? If so, then fight. Do you hear me? You fight, Guy Hancock.”

  He hugged her back and rested his chin atop her head.

  “You’re a very special woman, Skylar,” he said, weariness creeping into his voice.

  “Go to Honor, Hancock,” Donovan said quietly. “Your head isn’t in the game right now. You need to reassure yourself she’s okay. We’ll keep you in the loop. We aren’t benching you, though God knows you’re in no shape to be doing anything but lying in a hospital bed, but if it were Eve or any of our wives, we wouldn’t stand down even if we were at death’s door. You have my word, you will know everything.”

  “The very last thing she needs is to wake up and see me,” Hancock said bleakly. “I won’t hurt her any more than I already have.”

  “She’s out,” Conrad said. “She’s not going to come around anytime soon. Stop torturing yourself. You and I both know this wasn’t your fault.”

  “The hell it wasn’t,” Hancock said in a savage tone that made the others flinch at the raw pain in his voice.

  Conrad was wrong and Hancock knew it. It was his fault. He’d betrayed her and he’d failed her and that was unforgivable. But he took Conrad at his word that he’d sedated Honor so she wouldn’t waken until she was in a safe place, and he needed to see her. To touch her even though he didn’t deserve either. But he had to know just how badly Maksimov had hurt her.

  He nodded curtly and then quietly slipped into the tiny bedroom where Honor was huddled on the bed. Even unconscious, she was in a protective ball, curled into herself, so vulnerable looking that his grief was a tangible ache in his chest.

  He loved her. He fucking adored her. He’d never loved anyone except his foster family, Eddie and Caroline Sinclair, the parents he never had. And his brothers, Raid and Ryker, and his precious baby sister, whom he’d also let down. It seemed he was forever hurting the people who mattered most to him. How could he ever look Big Eddie Sinclair in the face again after all he’d done? Before, he’d always known that his actions were a necessary evil.

  But Honor was something he’d been utterly unprepared for. She’d slipped past his carefully erected barriers and somehow she’d become a living, breathing part of him. His other half. Now he understood what drove the Kellys in their absolute protection of their women, their wives. Because he felt it himself. But the Kellys hadn’t done to their women what Hancock had done to Honor, what he’d planned to do in the beginning with no regret or remorse.

  Now, those were two emotions he’d keenly feel the rest of his life.

  He slid onto the bed, moving inch by inch closer to her so he could smell her, feel her heat, touch her. It seemed an eternity before he finally had her nestled in his arms, and then he finally allowed himself to relax.

  He buried his face in her matted hair, uncaring of the scent of dirt and blood. And then he wept. He wept for all he’d been given and for what he’d so callously discarded and betrayed. What was now lost to him forever.

  Honor had changed him. She’d changed him on a fundamental level and though she now hated him, he would live the kind of life going forward that she would have wanted him to. He wanted to be the man she’d thought him to be. The only person who’d ever seen past the darkness that was ever present in his soul. He was done with Titan. Done with fighting for the greater good. He was finished being a man who didn’t even look at himself in the mirror because he no longer recognized the man staring back at him.

  She’d given him the gift of herself, the very best part of him, and he’d thrown it away. All for the greater good.

  CHAPTER 38

  HANCOCK stiffened, coming to instant awareness when he felt Honor stir against him. Damn it! He’d drifted off, needing sleep and healing, but he hadn’t intended to stay this long. And she wasn’t supposed to regain consciousness until she was returned to her family. He didn’t even have another syringe so he could quickly inject her so she didn’t come to awareness.

  He gazed anxiously at her, hoping she was just restless and would succumb once more to the drugs in her system. But he wasn’t that fortunate.

  Her eyelids fluttered sluggishly and then she saw him. He tensed, awaiting her condemnation, her hatred, bracing for everything he deserved. But she simply stared at him with dull, lifeless eyes and didn’t react at all. Nothing. Fear skittered up his spine because she simply wasn’t there.

  “I should have known,” she said in a monotone. “That you would be the one bringing me to ANE, not Maksimov. Ironic, isn’t it? You ‘save’ me from ANE and you’re the one to return me to them. Full circle.”

  Saying nothing further, she turned, struggling, emitting gasps of pain that her movement caused as she turned away from him and curled once more into a protective ball, shutting him out, retreating into herself and a place where she couldn’t hurt anymore.

  His torment was tearing him with its vicious claws. He felt every word to his tainted soul. He ached to hold her. To comfort her. To tell her all that was in his heart. But she wouldn’t believe him. She’d never believe him. As with everything else so precious he’d lost, he’d lost her trust as well.