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MAC SETTLED HIS back against the rock and drew her into the curve of his arm. He cradled her against his side and laid his cheek on the top of her head. She cuddled against him with a contented sigh. “I promise,” he whispered into her hair. “I won’t leave you.” He sighed. “Fuckin’ rock and a hard spot,” he snarled softly.
“Tell me about it,” Hannah snarled back.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I was. Sort of. What do you call it? Combat sleep. I...” She pushed away and looked up at him. “I can’t stay behind.” Hannah gulped. Considering she worked an ultra top-secret job at the Pentagon, she was basically an honest person. It chafed to lie. That didn’t mean she wasn’t good at poker, but this wasn’t Texas Hold ’Em. “I’m a fake...” She stopped and blinked, unsure just what name to call him. “Uhm...Ian. I talk a good game but when I woke up and you were gone yesterday? I panicked. Then I got pissed. And when I got caught, I was scared to death.” She tensed to keep from shivering. “Please? Don’t leave me here. I don’t understand this whole alpha male claiming thing. But I’m damn sure not interested in any of the men in the unit.” He cut her words off with a kiss. She squirmed. His arms tightened. She resisted the urge to bite his tongue.
“Mac.” His name was swallowed in the kiss. “Only my mother called me Ian.”
She pushed back from him and scrunched up her nose. “Ewww. Way to kill the moment, stud.”
He let out a slow breath and she recognized his resolute look. “I'm sorry, Hannah. If I'd known about the patrol, I would never have left you alone.” His thumb touched her bruised cheek, a light feathering of rough callous over silky skin, and he winced.
She searched his face, saw both tenderness and regret etched there. Did he regret she was the one he'd be stuck with for the rest of his life? Was it true that they were trapped in this relationship? She knew nothing about Wolf life. And if getting pregnant was such a big deal, how had she popped so quickly? She had so many questions but there was no time to get the truth from him. Her nostrils flared as she breathed in slowly and deeply. He watched her intently, like a hunter homing in on his prey. She didn't like that image much but it was truthful. Truth. It all boiled down to truth.
“I have a lot of questions to ask.” She shook her head, stopping his reply. “They'll have to wait until this is over. I understand that. But we need to clear some things up. I'm not a combat soldier, Mac. What happened before? That was sheer dumb luck and terror despite the basic training. I know this mission has gone to straight to hell and this...thing...between the two of us is happening at the worst possible time.” A wry grin tugged the corner of her mouth. “My sense of timing has always sucked.” Mac stared at her mouth, groaned and shifted his legs. She swallowed a nervous giggle. “Look. The thing is, you can't go all macho right now. I can't stay behind. That means I have to be around one of the guys or stick with you. Since you plan on penetrating the target, sticking with you isn't exactly high on my list of priorities. Let me stay with Lightfoot. You guys do what you have to do, we all get our butts on the chopper, and get the hell back to civilization. I'll take leave with you and you can explain this mess to me.”
He growled and his eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “Mess?”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to tell me this thing...” She gestured with her hand, pointing first at his chest, then at her own. “Whatever it is between you and me isn't a mess? Don't take it so damn personally. It is a mess. One we'll figure out with time.” She stared up at him, her gaze locked on his face. “I'm not going anywhere. Okay?”
His breath slid from his lungs in a slow hiss. “This is a first for me, too,” he admitted. “Just so you know, I'm not going anywhere either. We'll get through it together. Deal?”
She nodded. She felt the same relief showing on his face.
Mac stood and lifted her to her feet. “You should get some sleep. We have an early start and it'll be a long day.”
DARKNESS FILTERED SOUNDS as she laid there trying to both see and listen. Hannah knew what “inky black” meant now. Even with her eyes wide open and adjusted to the dark, she still couldn't see a thing. A faint rustle across the cave had her straining to hear. Cloth rubbing against itself, the brush of whipcord fabric as one of the men shifted position. The arm holding her close tightened, a reminder that the soft thump beating beneath her cheek was an echo of Mac's heart.
“I'm not ready to let you go.”
Her eardrum felt the words as puffs of air yet she heard them as clearly as if he'd shouted them from the nearby mountains. Her heart, heretofore marching along steadily, danced a stutter step. Her cheek brushed the comfortable cotton knit of his standard-issue tee shirt as her lips quirked into a one-sided smile. His heart had stuttered, too, as he mouthed those words against her ear.
A discreet cough, muffled by the dark, shattered the moment. Firm lips brushed her temple before the arm holding her fell away. Mac sat up beside her.
“Cover your eyes.”
Peeking from behind her fingers, she still squinted against the flare of light from his flashlight. Other lights flashed on, their beams cutting through the thick gloom with laser precision.
Mac pressed a canteen into her hands. “Go do what you need to do, but hurry.” His gruff voice, so used to command, left no room for argument. She found her own flashlight atop her pack and scurried around the corner to the alcove. When she returned a few minutes later, the cave was bare. Mac waited for her near where they'd slept and he pointed her toward the mouth of the cave. He followed, erasing their footprints with a branch.
In the clearing, the Wolf pack waited patiently in the chilly night, all of them chowing down MREs. The thought of food made her mouth water, but not in a good way. Out here, there was a bit more light. The moon, waxing gibbous as it rode the far horizon, illuminated just enough of the forest that their flashlights were unnecessary. She couldn't distinguish the men’s faces but their breath manifested as ghostly tendrils whenever they exhaled. She reached for her pack, her hand colliding with Mac's. She shook her head, he backed off. She still had something to prove—at least to herself. Jacob Nakai soundlessly disappeared into the woods. Strong hands helped settle her pack on her back as Danny Keegan drifted out of sight. The reassuring grip of Mac's hand on her shoulder urged her forward. His touch directed her, luckily, because the forest had swallowed Jacob and Danny. Sean Donaldson fell in behind Mac and she guessed Michael Lightfoot guarded their rear, though she could hear neither man as they blended into the shadows.
After almost an hour of steady walking, the group stopped just over the crest of a high ridge. In the valley below them, a river meandered like a silver ribbon beneath the pearly light of the moon. At a wide bend of the river, a dark blob left a dirty thumb print before it coalesced into a jumble of buildings as her eyes adjusted. Deep in the bowls of that medieval block of stone, another Wolf awaited release—by rescue or death.
Before she knew what was happening, Mac pulled her to his chest, his arms imprisoning her as his lips mashed hers. Need, and something more, something primeval, surged inside her. She met his harsh kiss with a demand of her own, her arms circling his neck as she clung to him. “You damn sure better come back to me,” she hissed against his mouth.
“You damn sure better be here when I do.”
Just as quickly as he'd grabbed her, he released her and was gone. Wraiths drifting through the ground fog followed him. One. Two. Three. She was alone with Michael. She didn't ask if there was anything she could do. There wasn't. She watched him set up his sniper nest with calculated efficiency. Wait. That's all she had to do. Her stomach rumbled. Now she was hungry. She shed her pack, found an MRE by touch, tore into it, and wolfed it down. Partially sated, her gut relaxed and she did, too.
MAC DIDN'T NEED the tiny electronic device fastened to his ear to tell him his team was ready. The two guards at the front gate simultaneously sank to their knees. This was a deadly dance he and Sean had choreographed often. Sean found the keys on his victim and with an economy of motion, the medic had the portal unlocked and open scant inches while he moved the guards out of the way. They slipped through the gate and filtered through the inner yard. A few lights braved the darkness, the illumination they shed not near enough to banish the shadows. Mac didn't bother with the main doors, heading instead toward the side of the building to a little-used entry. If their intel was correct, this door led directly to the dungeons below the castle. With sure fingers, Sean pressed a small charge into the lock. A moment later, after a faint sizzle and pop, the door opened when he pressed his shoulder against it.
Like water rolling downhill, they plunged down the moss-encrusted steps. Stepping onto a solid, stone floor, they prowled down a wide hallway. Up ahead, a sliver of dingy light oozed from beneath a wooden door. From behind the door, the wet slap of leather against bloody meat echoed with rhythmic thuds. Mac's nostrils flared. Blood and pain crouched behind that ancient barrier.
With well-rehearsed precision, they crashed through the door. Mac went low, his silenced Beretta hissing and spitting like a deadly cat. The man holding the broad leather strap above his head looked surprised even as life faded from his eyes. A second man, lounging in a comfortable chair pushed against the far wall, had no time for his shock to register as a red dot blossomed in the middle of his forehead. He died between one blink and the next.
Mac winced as he glanced at the man strapped naked to a table. The prisoner's groin, laced with cuts, resembled raw meat. Sean was already bending over him, syringe in hand.
“It's okay, Tornjak. We're here to take you home.” With sure hands, Sean administered painkillers and then set to work with field dressings. They had scant minutes to get the captive packaged and away.
Mac stripped the uniform from the man in the chair. Tornjak's eyes stared vacantly as they pulled the uniform pants up his legs and carefully fastened the fly. They fit his limp arms into the sleeves of the shirt but didn't bother to button it up. With more care than his speed indicated, Mac hoisted the man onto his shoulders and headed toward the fresh air beckoning from above them. One part of his brain registered the fact that Sean was laying a few booby traps to discourage anyone who might come along.
They made it back to the outside gate in the wall with no complications. Two figures materialized from the shadows as they stepped through the portal. Jacob flashed a signal. Mac nodded and moved on, following the wall to the steep hill rising to the ridge above the castle. Michael lay in wait up there, even now sighting in his sniper rifle. Up there, Hannah waited for him. He smiled despite the muffled groan from the man over his shoulder. They were going to pull this off without a hitch.
Then all hell broke loose.
