by Sydney Croft
“I can do that,” she said quietly. “I can definitely do that.”
SELA HAD BEEN AFRAID FOR MUCH OF HER LIFE. WHEN SHE was a child, her mother had put them both into a lot of shit situations with very bad people. As an adult, Sela had made some reckless choices. And working for ACRO was a bag of adrenaline, mild anxiety and pants-pissing terror.
Right now, Sela was in danger of needing a change of underwear.
They’d all remained absolutely still for several minutes, but now she moved closer to Logan, who was inching toward a copse of trees where the shadows were so dark and expansive, the Loch Ness Monster could be hiding in them.
“You know,” she whispered, as she raised her dart gun, “if you’d given me a real weapon, I might be of more help.”
“Just stay close.”
No worries about that.
He signaled to his men, who spread out in a coordinated pattern. All around them, the rain forest was silent. No birds, no monkeys, not even frogs or insects dared to make a noise.
Slowly, Logan’s team crept deeper into the tangle of vegetation, where the canopy above was a tight weave of leaves and branches, choking even the narrowest rays of light. Sela nearly lost her footing when she stepped on something slimy, but Logan’s hand shot out and caught her elbow. Damn, he was fast.
Maybe he was an excedosapien. It certainly would explain a lot. There were different kinds of the biologically enhanced humans—people who were superfast, superstrong, or who possessed overdeveloped senses—and most of those with lower-level abilities hadn’t been picked up by ACRO, Itor or The Aquarius Group, ACRO’s sister agency in England. It was possible that Logan was one of those.
But that still didn’t explain his extraordinarily precise movements and mannerisms.
They continued on, sinking deeper into the forest. Clawed branches grabbed at Sela, snagging her clothes, and thorny vines cut through them, until her arms and legs were a mass of scratches. Every now and then, glowing eyes pierced the darkness as curious creatures spied on them from the safety of the trees.
A soft, low growl rose up from nowhere and everywhere, and Sela’s heart stuttered. A hot breeze rattled the leaves, bringing with it a fetid odor, one of death and decay, and Logan halted so quickly she bumped into him. The next ten seconds were a blur of action and terror.
Something shot through the brush. Someone screamed. Shots rang out. Logan’s men scattered, disappearing silently into the forest. Logan slammed her to the ground and covered her a split second before a bullet shattered a branch where her head used to be. Leaves, thorns and shards of wood rained down on them.
“Is someone shooting at us?” Sela tried to wriggle out from beneath Logan, but the guy weighed a ton.
“Looks like.” He pushed off her into a crouch, sharp gaze scanning as he tried to get a bead on the activity, but he seemed as confused as she was. “This is chaos.”
All around them, men were shouting in English and Spanish. Gunfire popped in constant bursts. “Isn’t that the state of battle?” she shouted.
He squeezed off a round with icy calm. She heard a grunt and thud. “This is different—” He broke off, shoved her down again, face-first into wet moss and dirt, and another tree fell victim. “There’s a third party.”
And that was when she heard it. Smelled it. A shriek that shriveled her soul. An unmistakable stench of a rotting corpse that stung her nostrils.
The chupacabra.
It burst from out of the shadows, a grayish, man-sized beast with a gaping mouth full of fangs. Its saucer-sized red eyes locked on her. Terror screamed through her as she whipped the tranq gun up. It swiped the weapon out of her hand with six-inch claws, propelling her into Logan, whose shot went wild at the impact.
Logan lunged, smashing his fist into the creature’s throat, and though it rocked backward, it didn’t seem to be injured. If anything, its eyes grew redder, its skin gray, and foamy drool sprayed from its mouth as it hissed.
They faced off, a split second of terror and tension arcing through the air among the three of them, broken when three heavily armed men crashed through the brush. The creature fled, and the guerrillas turned their weapons on Logan. He came to his feet in an explosion, smashing one in the face with the butt of his rifle even as he slammed his foot into another guy’s gut. Sela caught the remaining one by surprise, nailing him in the balls with her knee and then crunching his face with that same knee when he doubled over in pain.
Three—or maybe more—men crashed through the curtain of vegetation at them.
“Son of a—” Logan seized her arm and hurled both of them into the brush. Gunfire sprayed the forest floor, and shit, they’d dived into a ravine, and suddenly they were rolling like logs down an impossibly steep rock face. Bullets strafed them even as they landed in a tangle. Pain screamed through Sela’s shoulder, and she cried out as Logan dragged her behind a moss-covered pile of stones.
Logan’s face was scratched, and mud smeared his cheeks, forehead and chin, but his eyes were as sharp as ever as he rapidly assessed her for injury. “You shot?”
Agony and nausea made her stomach churn. Just breathing became an impossible effort. “Don’t … know.” She did know that she couldn’t move her left arm, and trying made her want to pass out.
Logan gripped her shoulder gently, but even that slight contact made her suck air. “Sorry. No blood—but I think it’s dislocated.”
“Great,” she gritted out.
“I can fix it, but it’s going to hurt like a mother.”
The sounds of pursuit, men barreling through brush and skidding down the ravine, sent her heart rate into overdrive. “Yeah. Do it.”
He pushed her gently against a tree. “Hug the trunk. You’re going to brace yourself while I pull.” He took her hand and gripped her biceps. “On the count of three. You ready?”
“Just hurry. They’re coming.”
“Okay.” He looked into her eyes, held her immobile with his steady gaze. So calm, as if men and monsters weren’t bearing down on them. “One … two!” He yanked her arm, smashing her into the tree, and pain, like she’d been hacked by a sword, sliced through her shoulder.
The world spun, but Logan caught her as she slid to her knees. Even as her senses came back, she realized the extreme pain was gone. There was a dull, throbbing ache, but nothing she couldn’t handle. She still couldn’t breathe, though.
“You … said … on three.”
“I lied. Come on. We gotta go.” His voice went low, as though he was embarrassed. “I lost my rifle.”
Sela scanned the ground. “Shit. My tranq gun is gone too.” And her pack had been torn away on the tumble into the ravine.
“Yeah, we’re a little fucked.” He unsnapped his holster and drew his handgun, a high-class HK USP, and she knew he also had a knife strapped to his arm. They weren’t totally defenseless, but they were definitely outgunned by the FARC assholes who were between them and the camp.
Logan led the way, moving like a panther through the dense jungle. They kept ahead of their pursuers, but no matter how fast Logan and Sela ran, they couldn’t widen the distance between them and the guerrillas. They knew this land, and evading them wasn’t going to be easy.
A shot rang out. Too close. Logan cursed, and Sela’s heart stopped. He had a bullet hole in his sleeve.
“You’ve been shot.” She reached for him, but he blocked her.
“It’s fine. It didn’t hit me. Went through the cloth.”
Well, there was no blood, but she didn’t see an exit hole anywhere in the fabric.
“We’re not going to be able to lose them,” he said, and she forgot about the bullet hole. “This is their territory, they have the advantage.”
“So what do we do?”
Logan peered back the way they came. They’d left no trail; the jungle had closed up behind them, almost as though it was trying to trap them. “I want you to keep going. Head for the mountains. I’ll catch up.”
�
�What? No! I can help you—”
He rounded on her, teeth bared like a jungle cat. “This isn’t up for debate. I can handle these guys, but not if I have to worry about you.” She must have looked frightened, because his expression softened and his voice lowered. “Look, it’ll be okay. Find us shelter, and do your best to cover your tracks. Walk on rock and through streams. If I’m not with you by nightfall, hide yourself, then try to get back to camp in the morning.” He reached into his pants side-leg pocket and handed her his GPS unit and knife.
And then he kissed her. The contact was fleeting, but damn if she didn’t feel a rush of warmth all over her body.
“Go.” He shoved her away and melted into the shadows like a ghost, the rain forest swallowing him entirely.
Tempted to stay and help, but realizing she might be more of a liability, like he’d said, she headed for the mountains that occasionally peeked through the rare breaks in the trees. She ran hard, but ran smart, using the evasion skills she’d been taught at ACRO. By the time she heard shots again, the sounds were distant.
The sun had just dropped below the tops of the trees, giving way to late afternoon by the time she made it to the base of the mountains. The landscape had changed, becoming more open, more rocky, with more ground-hugging vegetation that hampered her steps. But it didn’t take long to realize why Logan had sent her this way. The rocky outcrops were rife with caves, many of them well concealed by years of foliage growth. She explored several, praying the whole while that she didn’t find a starving jaguar, or the chupacabra, inside.
Heart jolting at every stray sound, she crept into one narrow passage. Or, more accurately, she fell into it, and even as she winced at her twisted knee, she realized that this was the perfect cave to keep her safe from bad guys.
Safe from the chupacabra was another story.
Aching and sore, she used the greenish light from the GPS to make her way toward the sound of running water. Packed earth and porous pebbles crunched beneath her feet as she walked, and a few yards into the cavern, she found a trickle dripping down a crack in the wall, which collected in a shallow pool. Thank you, God. She nearly dove in she was so thirsty.
After she drank and washed her face and hands, she made her way back to the mouth of the cave. Dim light filtered inside at the entrance, just enough for her to find a place to sit and listen for anyone who might approach.
Exhaustion set in, and she found herself nodding off.
She came awake to the sound of breathing. Startled, she screamed and struck out in the darkness, her fist slicing through empty air. A palm clapped across her mouth, cutting off her scream. She was shoved to the ground, a heavy body coming down on top of her. A cascade of terror crashed down on her, obliterating thought and logic and leaving behind only survival instinct. Snarling, she jammed her assailant between the legs with her knee and bit down on his finger.
Logan’s low-pitched groan echoed inside the cave. He rolled off her, clutching his crotch. “And to think,” he rasped, “I was worried about you.”
Silently thanking her lucky stars, she scrambled over to him and knelt at his side. “I’m sorry, Logan. You scared me.”
“Obviously.” He levered into a sitting position so suddenly, she threw up her arm to defend a blow. Frowning, Logan gently pushed her arm down. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Feeling like a fool, she smiled, grateful for the darkness that would hide her trembling. “Nothing. Guess I’m just jumpy.” That much was true. God, she didn’t think she’d ever been so stressed out or tired in her life.
He snapped the casing on a glow stick, and in the eerie green light, she saw the skeptical expression on his face. But thankfully, he didn’t push for more of an answer. “You did a good job picking a shelter.”
“I live for your approval,” she said dryly. “So I’m guessing you got the bad guys?”
“They’re chupacabra food now.”
She nodded, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “You don’t seem very upset.”
“Why would I be?”
“Because women have a tendency to go all soft and shocked over stuff like that. You know, like these guys could have been rehabilitated or some shit if only I’d tied them up instead of taking them out.”
She snorted. “When it comes down to my life or theirs? I can get pretty ruthless.”
He smiled, that damned blinding one that made her go all mushy inside. “My kind of woman.”
“I have a feeling any woman is your kind of woman.”
“I do have standards,” he said, sounding offended.
“What? She has to be breathing?”
His chuckle rumbled deep inside her, stirring up sensations she shouldn’t be feeling. “Breathing is a bonus.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. God, how long had it been since she’d actually had fun with a man? Fun … in a freaking cave, hiding out from men who would probably shoot him and rape and kill her.
Yeah, good times.
Sobering, she hugged herself. “How long do we need to hunker down?”
“Probably overnight. I got rid of the guys who were close on our tails, but more will be looking for us. If my men don’t find us tonight, we’ll head out at first light. I also found a patch of berries outside the cave and picked some. They’re wrapped in a leaf near the entrance if you get hungry.” He nodded at her shoulder. “How is it?”
“Sore, but much better.” She reached up to rub the knotted muscles. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you … so, thank you.”
He gestured for her to move closer. “Let me. I give good massages.”
“I’ll just bet,” she muttered, but she eased around, and the moment his strong, warm hands came down on her shoulder, she groaned with relief.
And strangely, that’s when she realized she’d allowed him to touch her because she wanted it, not because she needed to seduce him.
Fuck. She was in a lot of trouble.
CHAPTER
Ten
They sat in silence for a while, Chance resting on the cot, Marlena sitting at the table, mainly because Chance continued to listen to the men on the other side of the camp.
He said that sometimes conversations came through clearly, other times, if too many people were talking at once, in a jumble. And she could tell when it all became too much for him, because he shook his head as if clearing it of everything he’d heard, and sat up. Looked at her, the familiar burn of desire in his eyes.
God, that was nice. Despite everything.
She spoke first. “I’m sorry about all of this, Chance.”
“Why? You didn’t bite me,” he said, and then he shot her a small, albeit wicked grin. “Well, not like that anyway.”
The man could still make jokes—even after all he’d learned. The familiar heat flooded her body. He was aroused too—she could see it. But she supposed their mutual panic took precedence over that desire for now.
“Your family must be worried about you,” he said after a few more minutes had passed.
She’d considered ACRO—Devlin—her family for ten years and, yes, he always worried about her. As for her biological family … “I don’t have one. My dad, stepmom and stepsister were all killed in a car accident.”
The raw hitch in her voice surprised her—she’d thought she’d come to grips with her past a long time ago. She’d never known her mom—Marlena was the product of good-bye sex between her parents on the day their divorce had been finalized, and her mom had died during childbirth. Her father had remarried, had a new wife and a ten-year-old stepdaughter. Neither Kelly nor Gillian had welcomed the newborn baby girl into their lives.
Marlena’s father had done his best to compensate for the loss of her mother, but he’d overcompensated, and the bitterness that had taken root inside Kelly when Marlena was born had bloomed into insane hatred as the years passed.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “What about your biological mother?”
Marlena wasn’t sure why she was c
hoosing to share this with him, could’ve easily come up with some lie. But ever since she’d had to break the news about the chupacabra situation to him, she felt the urge for honesty.
If she could tell him about ACRO, that she was one of the good guys, that maybe they could even help him …
No. She couldn’t share that now. Not yet. “I don’t remember her. She died when I was born. But my dad always said I looked just like her.”
Chance’s face tightened. “You’ve been through a lot—no wonder you’re so tough. Where’d you grow up?”
She knew what he was doing, trying to make conversation to take their minds off what was going to happen. Thank God for that. “Kansas.”
“I’m a Vegas boy myself.”
“Worlds apart,” she murmured.
“Not so much now,” he countered.
“That’s the sex talking.” Mated. For life. Holy crap.
He must’ve seen the look of panic cross her face, because she felt panicked when she thought about that. She’d desired to fall in love for real more than anything in the world—and now she’d met someone she wanted to fall for. And he was turning into a monster. Who’d mated with her.
Yeah, someone upstairs was laughing their ass off at her.
Chance’s voice was steady when he next spoke. Firm. Strong. “I hate it that you’re with me out of pity. I hate that you’ve seen me turn into something ugly. Because I’m not that fucking monster, Marlena. I’m a Navy chief. A good man.”
“I know that.”
“If I can learn to control this—if it can’t be cured entirely—I can still …” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about this now.”
“You fought for your life, and you won,” she whispered. “You can do it again. I’ve seen miracles happen.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself. After every mission, whether they went right or wrong, I put one foot in front of the other, lived one day at a time, because I realized early on there’s no other way. Spending time appreciating what you’ve got is much better than bitching about what you don’t.”
