by Susan Stoker, Cristin Harber, Cora Seton, Lynn Raye Harris, Kaylea Cross, Katie Reus, Tessa Layne
Bin Yusuf’s laugh was sudden and sharp. “You don’t give me terms, woman. I’m the one in charge here, not you. And if you think—”
An explosion rocked the building and then another followed on its heels. They all jumped.
Zaran bin Yusuf was choking suddenly, and Nick wondered if he’d been hit by shrapnel. But the walls were intact and everyone else was remarkably untouched.
That’s when Nick realized what was happening. Emily Royal stood beside her husband with her fist wrapped around the dagger he’d been wearing at his waist. She’d shoved it in deep, somehow missing bone and cartilage and driving it into his torso.
He staggered backward, finding enough breath to curse in Arabic. Emily let go of the dagger as he stumbled. Her face was white. Ahmed, her bodyguard, had wide eyes and seemed immobilized. But it didn’t last as he began fumbling for his weapon. Bin Yusuf still had the gun he’d been holding when Emily stabbed him. As he fell against the wall, he raised it in a shaking hand, aiming for Emily.
There was no way Victoria could shoot two men at once, which is what she needed to do to save both herself and her sister. Bin Yusuf targeted Emily while Ahmed targeted Victoria. And Nick knew, without a doubt, she was going to fire on bin Yusuf and save her sister. He understood her compulsion to do so, but he couldn’t lie here and let her sacrifice herself for Emily.
Because the world would be a darker place without her in it.
Time slowed until it seemed he could see the scene in slow motion, the men aiming weapons, the women in their sights. Outside, the explosions and gunfire grew as HOT—it had to be HOT—infiltrated the compound.
But inside, all he cared about were the next few seconds and stopping Ahmed from killing Victoria. Because HOT was here, but they wouldn’t reach this room soon enough to prevent Victoria’s death if she was determined to save her sister first.
And she was. He could see it in her eyes.
With every last ounce of strength he had, he launched himself from the bed just as the crack of a gun sounded.
* * *
Victoria dropped to the floor with a cry. Her thigh burned as if someone had jabbed her with a hot poker. But she had no time to worry about herself. She’d fired at Zaran bin Yusuf, and Ahmed had fired at her—but not before Nick launched himself at the man. She scrambled to right herself and bring the gun up.
Zaran lay still, and she knew her shot had gone true. Right between the eyes. She’d killed him, and she’d saved Emily. If she gave herself time to think about it, she would probably start to shake with the enormity of what had happened. Not killing a man, because she’d done that before, but finally killing the one man who’d hurt her sister for so long.
Though Emily had already done that, because Zaran wouldn’t have survived the stab wound. Victoria had only finished the job.
But she had no time to dwell on it because now she had to kill Ahmed. Nick had taken Ahmed down by launching himself at the other man’s legs. Ahmed had shot wide, thanks to Nick, but he’d still hit her.
Victoria rolled forward, gripping the gun, and aimed for the tangle of men on the floor. But Ahmed’s robes made it difficult to tell where he ended and Nick began. They moved too fast for her to get a clear shot. If she timed it wrong, she’d hit Nick when she aimed at Ahmed.
The men continued to struggle—and then Nick’s arm wrapped around Ahmed’s neck. Nick flipped until he was behind Ahmed, squeezing the man’s windpipe with all the strength he had left.
It was a surprising amount for a man who’d been prone on the bed until just a few moments ago. Victoria struggled to her feet. Her leg nearly buckled from beneath her and she cried out in pain. But she had to get to Nick’s side, had to press the gun against Ahmed’s temple and make him stop struggling.
She was certain that if he fought hard enough and long enough, Nick’s strength would give way. And she had to stop Ahmed before it did.
Outside, there was gunfire and an explosion, closer to the building this time. The walls shook and chunks of mud-brick dropped from the ceiling.
A quick glance told her that Emily was alive. She was leaning against the wall, her hand to her throat and her eyes averted from the scene. Her shoulders shook, and Victoria knew her sister was crying.
She wanted to comfort her, but first she had to help Nick. She hobbled toward him, each step agony. Blood seeped from her wound and stained her torn pants. For all she knew, Ahmed had hit her femoral artery and she’d be done for soon—but she didn’t feel light-headed so much as sick from the agony of moving across the room.
Ahmed’s legs kicked out and Nick’s arm tightened. Ahmed’s face was turning purple—then he went limp, sliding to the side as Nick finished the job and shoved him away. Nick looked up at her, his hazel eyes feverish in the flashes of light that made the room so much brighter than the lantern alone did. Ahmed’s body was still partially covering him, but he dragged himself from beneath the dead weight of it and staggered to his feet.
Victoria didn’t know how she did it, but she closed the distance and threw herself into his arms. He squeezed her tight, his head bowing to her neck. His skin was hot, and fresh fear ricocheted through her.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he said.
She pushed away and cupped his face in both her hands. God, he was burning up. “You scared me too.”
He was still scaring her.
“Victoria?”
It was Emily calling to her. She turned to see her sister staggering toward them, her hands outstretched, staring at the blood on them like a demented Lady Macbeth. Emily’s gaze bounced to Zaran, where he lay in a pool of blood with part of his head blown away.
That’s when she started to shake.
“Go to her,” Nick said. “She needs you more.”
For the first time in her life, Victoria was torn. Instinct told her to go to Emily, to comfort her sister and take care of her as she always had.
But a different emotion told her to stay with Nick, to never let him go. If she let him go, she had the irrational fear she would never see him again. That things would change so irrevocably she would never get back the man she’d spent the past few days with. The man she’d grown to love, as impossible as that seemed.
How did you fall for someone so quickly? How did they become the guiding star in your heavens practically overnight? It shouldn’t be possible, and yet…
“Victoria,” Emily cried again.
Victoria closed her eyes. If ever she needed to be reminded of what falling too quickly for a man could do to you, she only needed to look at her sister. Emily had followed that urge that told her Zaran was her guiding star, and look what had happened.
Victoria shuddered. And then she stepped away from Nick and held her arms open. Emily closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Victoria’s waist just as two spec-ops warriors burst into the room.
They were big and lethal-looking, and she’d never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Once more, she’d been saved by the Army. Odd, considering the Army hadn’t shown her much sympathy in the first place.
“About fucking time,” Nick grumbled.
“Got here soon as we could, Brandy.” The man who’d spoken was tall and broad. His greasepainted face looked menacing. “See you got yourself shot.”
“Fuck you, Iceman.”
The other man laughed. “You’ll live. Thank God.”
A second later, Nick crumpled to the floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
HOT stole one of the opposition’s trucks in order to race to their extraction point. They’d done a lot of damage at the military outpost, killing or wounding scores of men. No one challenged them when they climbed into the truck and tore into the desert.
The one called Iceman tended to Nick, injecting him with something and inserting an IV drip. He couldn’t do much in the truck other than stabilize his teammate. Another soldier tended to her. He grinned and told jokes while he worked. It didn’t stop the pain
, but it kept her distracted until the painkillers kicked in.
Emily stayed as close to her side as possible. She’d retreated into herself, rocking back and forth and shaking her head as if trying to shake out the memories of what had just happened.
She kept repeating “Oh God, oh God, oh God…” as if it would somehow make it better. Her hands had been cleaned, but she still had blood on her burka. There was nothing to be done about it just yet.
Victoria reached for her hand, and Emily clung to it like a lifeline. It broke Victoria’s heart. No matter what she thought of Zaran bin Yusuf, he’d once been good for Emily. That he’d changed and become controlling and abusive didn’t mean that Emily would have an easy time with all that had happened tonight.
She’d stabbed the man who was her husband with his own dagger. And then she’d watched helplessly as he tried to shoot her with his dying breath. How long would it take her to make peace with all that had happened?
For all Victoria knew, she never would. Because Victoria didn’t know what Zaran had done to her over the past three and a half years. He might have started out being good for her, but he certainly hadn’t ended that way.
The ride across the desert was tense, but they soon were racing across a broad expanse of flatland. It took Victoria a few minutes to realize that a plane was waiting for them in the darkness, its lights turned off and engines on low.
The man who’d been tending to her picked her up and carried her onto the plane, running up the ramp as if he were carrying a child instead of a full-grown woman. He settled her on a gurney strapped to the wall, buckled her in, and disappeared. Another man deposited Emily nearby. She’d started crying again.
Victoria twisted her neck, looking for Nick. It took two guys to place him on a bed and strap him down. The plane was already taxiing into the night. Another minute and they’d lifted off the desert floor, the engines whining as they climbed into the dark sky.
She held her breath for long seconds, praying there was no opposition force out there with a rocket launcher just waiting to take down a plane. But they kept climbing, and she finally let out a shaky breath, a little more certain they were going to make it than she had been just a few moments ago.
Whatever she’d been injected with must have made her sleep, because when next she woke, the plane was on the ground and the smiling soldier who’d given her drugs was standing over her and unbuckling the straps that had held her in bed for the trip.
“Where are we?”
“Baq.”
“Baq? We made it?”
“Yeah, we made it.” He winked. “Told you we would, though I don’t think you remember that part.”
She put a hand to her head. “I don’t remember much of anything. What the hell was in that shot anyway?”
“Something to make you relax. Worked, didn’t it?”
She turned her head. “How’s Nick?”
His smile slipped a fraction, but she didn’t think she was meant to see it. “He’s been better. But we’ll fix him up, don’t worry.”
She did worry, but before she could ask more questions, she was lifted, placed on another gurney, and rolled off the plane. They put her in an ambulance and drove her the short distance to the base hospital. It wasn’t a big structure, more of a field hospital really, but they were equipped to deal with gunshot wounds.
A doctor in surgical scrubs appeared, and then another joined him. She realized it was a surgical team, not just a doctor, when someone came over and spoke softly to her while someone else inserted a needle and set up an IV.
“Wait… what’s happening…?”
Victoria never knew if she completed that sentence. The next thing she knew, she woke up in a white room. She was lying in a bed, and machines beeped nearby. There was an IV and an oxygen tube.
Her leg was suspended in a sling and covered in thick white padding. She groped for a call button, finally finding it threaded through the bedside rail, and pushed it repeatedly.
An Army nurse appeared, her face both serious and warm at the same time.
“Welcome back, Miss Royal,” she said briskly. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”
“I… Where’s my sister? Where’s Nick?”
The nurse fiddled with the tubes and dials on the IV. “Your sister is in the next room. We’ve given her something to help her sleep. She’s under psychiatric care, never fear, so we’ll be monitoring her closely. Sergeant Brandon is out of surgery. He hasn’t awakened yet, but the doctor says he’ll be fine.”
Relief flooded her even as fresh anxiety took up residence in her belly over her sister’s condition.
The nurse smiled. Then she picked up a tube and put it in Victoria’s hand. That’s when she realized there was a button on it.
“Morphine,” the nurse said. “When you need it, press the button. It will only give you so much per hour, but it will help. Don’t wait until it hurts too much.”
* * *
Nick felt like he was fighting his way out of a forest. He kept tilting headlong into trees. His head hurt. His body hurt. He was hot, and then he was cold. He was also alone. No one was in the forest with him. He searched for faces—Shelly, his mom and dad. Victoria.
They weren’t with him.
He didn’t know how long he fought, how long he searched, but suddenly he broke free. Everything was white and bright…
He blinked, confused. A white ceiling. The beeping of machines. The odor of alcohol and antiseptic.
Images dripped into his head one by one. He’d been shot, and he’d been captured—
And Victoria had been captured with him. He tried to shove himself up as panic took root in his soul.
A hand smoothed over his forehead, and a voice whispered to him. He stilled, searching for the source of the voice. It kept speaking, soothing him, and he realized who it belonged to.
“Victoria?”
His own voice was a croak. She appeared in his vision then, leaning over him, her hair dropping over her shoulder and tickling his face before she pushed it behind an ear. It smelled good.
“It’s me. Nice of you to decide to come back to us.”
“Thirsty.”
She lifted a cup and put the straw to his mouth. He took a long drink.
“How long have I been out?”
“A couple of days.”
He processed that information. And then he let his gaze slip over her. She looked good, her red hair long and full, her gray eyes filled with concern. But she was sitting in a wheelchair, and that’s when he remembered she’d been shot too.
“How’s the leg?” he asked.
She smiled softly. “Hurts, but it’s getting better. You?”
“Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes for a second. “I think I got run over by a truck.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Where’s your sister?”
Her smile slipped. “She couldn’t stay in the hospital, but thanks to your colonel, she has a room at the Visiting Officers’ Quarters. She’s not hurt, but she’s still a bit in shock, I think.”
“She stabbed bin Yusuf.”
Victoria’s lips pressed together. “Yep, she did. I’m not sure she’ll ever recover from it, quite honestly. But the psychiatrist seems to think she will.”
Nick reached for her hand. Squeezed. “Takes time, Vic. You know that.”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
But she didn’t say anything else, and he wondered what she was thinking. He remembered those few terrifying minutes with Zaran bin Yusuf, Emily, Victoria, and Ahmed. He hadn’t been certain any of them would survive it.
“You were going to sacrifice yourself,” he said, remembering, and her eyes widened just a fraction. But then they were solemn again.
“I couldn’t let him kill her.”
“And I couldn’t let the bodyguard kill you.”
The silence was heavy. And then she lifted his hand to her mouth and pressed her lips to his skin.
“I
don’t know how you did it, but you saved me.” Her laugh had an edge of hysteria. “Again, I should say. You saved me again.”
“Had to.”
She licked her lips. “Why, Nick? Why did you have to?”
He felt his brows drawing together. Why? He still wasn’t sure how he’d found the strength to launch himself at Ahmed, or why he’d done so other than he would have done it for anyone.
“It’s what I’m trained to do. No choice.”
But that wasn’t the whole answer and he knew it.
Her expression clouded for a second. Then she smiled. “Of course you are.” She let his hand go and sat back in the chair.
He wanted to call her back, wanted to reach through the bars and take her hand in his. But she was sitting with her head bowed and not looking at him.
Then she lifted her head and folded her arms over her middle, her eyes bright and her smile firmly in place.
He didn’t know what to say to her. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, or why his heart thumped so hard he thought it might pound out of his chest, or why his eyes felt so gritty. She was here and he wanted to hold her tight, but that wasn’t the right answer either.
He wanted her, but Emily needed her. Emily had been her entire focus for years. Now that she had her sister back, she didn’t need anything distracting her from the life she wanted to have.
Except he wanted to distract her. Badly. “I’m fucking this up.”
“It’s fine. You don’t owe me anything. We’ve had sex a couple of times. No big deal.”
No big deal?
“Victoria.”
She huffed and turned her head to look toward the door. There were people moving around out there, nurses and staff, but he wanted her to look at him. She wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?” She waved a hand. “Already told you it’s no big deal.”
“I care about you,” he began, and she whipped her head around to look at him. That got her attention. He swallowed. “I care. We’ve had, uh, some fun… and not so fun.”
When he’d thought he might lose her out there… God, it had killed him. It was better if she went home with Emily. That way she’d be safe. Always.
