Echoes at Dawn

Rio squeezed a shot off. The man dropped like a stone, and suddenly his comrades hit the ground and turned in the direction of the gunfire.



“Hell,” Terrence muttered as he got into position. “Thought we weren’t engaging?”



“Cover me. I’m going in,” Rio bit out.



Before Terrence could protest, Rio scrambled over the edge and rapidly worked his way down until he reached bottom. Above him, Terrence squeezed off round after round, the sounds echoing harshly in the night.



They had a limited amount of time before someone came to investigate all the gunfire. He turned and immediately searched for Grace again. To his horror, he found her just as the edge gave way under her feet and she plummeted over the side.



He lunged forward as more gunfire erupted. This time, Terrence wasn’t trying to scare them. They dropped like flies as Terrence put them down one by one while Rio flew to po Rio fl the edge.



Trusting his man to protect his back, Rio focused only on trying to see how far down Grace had fallen or if the worst had occurred and she’d gone the entire distance to the riverbed.



He dug a flashlight out of his pack and dropped to his belly. He pointed the light down and made a slow sweep. As he pulled it closer to the side of the cliff, the light bounced over a tattered sneaker. He yanked the light up to see Grace lying limply on an outcropping. Her feet dangled over the side and her slim form barely fit the ledge. But she hadn’t fallen more than twenty feet.



Breaking radio silence, he called for immediate assistance. His men would have to lower him over by rope, and he’d have to haul Grace up over his shoulder. Provided she was still alive. He wouldn’t consider any alternative, though. She hadn’t made it this far to go quietly.



As he was pushing to his knees, Terrence dropped down beside him, flashing his own light over the side.



“Diego and Browning have our sixes. Decker and Alton are scrambling to get here,” Terrence said. “I’ll lower you over with rope so you can get Grace.”



“All dead?”



“All dead,” Terrence confirmed.



Rio couldn’t waste time lamenting the mess they’d made. Grace was the priority and then they had to get the hell out of here before everything went to shit.



Terrence yanked out a coil of rope with a rappel hook on the end and quickly fastened it around his waist. He took several steps back, dug his heels into the soil and then wrapped the extra length around the base of an aspen and set the hook into the bark. He tossed the other end to Rio.



Rio secured the flashlight to his leg, pointing downward so his descent would be illuminated. Then he secured the end of the rope around his waist, yanked to make sure it was securely knotted and then edged backward until his heels hung over the side.



Just before he started downward, Decker and Alton hit the scene. They rushed past Diego and Browning, who were standing watch, and each grabbed one of Rio’s hands to help him over the side.



They leaned down as he made his descent, holding on to his wrist until he had sure footing and he was certain that Terrence could support his weight.



The light bounced crazily as he continued downward. He glanced over his shoulder to see Grace still lying on the small ledge. He just hoped to hell it held both their weights.



He pushed off the side of the cliff when he reached her and lowered himself enough that he straddled the outcropping. Immediately he pressed his fingers to her neck, feeling for her pulse, and was reassured by the steady thud.



“Grace. Wake up. I’ve come to get you out of here but I need your help.”



When he didn’t receive a response, his lips tightened in frustration. At the top, Decker and Alton shone their lights down. He dug his feet into the side, finding purchase, and then he carefully let go of the rope to slide his arms underneath her limp body.



Mentally counting to three, he hoisted her up and then arranged her over one shoulder so he could hold the rope with a free hand. He held her tightly, his arm a steel band over the backs of her legs.



“Pull us up,” he called up to his teammates.



Toe over toe, he dug into the side as the rope inched higher. His muscles bulged with the strain of bearing both their weights. The rope cut into his skin and his fingers were numb from his grip.



Let me die. Please.



At first he thought she’d said it aloud. It startled him into stillness. His toes dragged as they hoistse,s they ed him higher and he had to scramble to regain his footing and assist them as they pulled him and Grace the remaining way.



He was suddenly swamped with desolation so acute that he couldn’t breathe. Pain. Fear. Regret. Hopelessness. And weariness that went soul deep.



He knew then that he’d heard Grace’s innermost thoughts. He was feeling what she felt. And her sorrow was so great that it staggered him.



Her tears were locked inside her, but he felt each one. Memories of all she’d endured flashed through his mind until he had to close his eyes to control his reeling senses.



I won’t go back.



Her voice whispered through his mind, so broken that he wanted to bellow in rage. He wanted to crawl up over the side of this damn cliff and rip apart the savages who’d pursued her so relentlessly and kill them all over again. The men who’d broken her spirit and made her even now want to die rather than endure more.



He knew that Nathan Kelly had been able to communicate with Grace’s sister, Shea, telepathically, but he hadn’t considered how or that he and Grace might be able to communicate the same way. It hadn’t been important at the time. He’d been gripped by the urgency to find her and keep her safe. Nothing else had mattered at that moment.



Tentatively, he reached out with his mind and spoke gently and reassuringly to her.



You’ll never go back to those bastards, Grace. You’re safe now. I’m here to help you. Don’t give up. You’ll get through this.



There was nothing but silence, and he clenched his jaw in frustration. How the hell did you communicate with your mind? How did he even know if he was able to talk to her the same way she’d just spoken to him? He didn’t even know if she was cognizant of the fact that he’d picked up on those desperate thoughts.



His teammates’ faces came into view as he neared the edge. Their expressions were tense as they hauled him the remaining distance. Diego pushed forward while Decker and Browning held tight to the rope and he took Grace from Rio’s grasp.



Free of her weight, Rio hoisted himself over the side and he rolled to his feet. Terrence let out a light huff, his only indication of the toll the rescue had taken on him. Rio quickly untied the rope and issued orders for his men to dispose of the bodies and then to be prepared to bug out.



They were in the middle of nowhere, no backup, no helo, their vehicles at least two miles away.



He strode to where Diego had laid Grace carefully on the ground and he dropped to his knees beside her.



He pushed the hair out of her face with gentle fingers and frowned at the deep shadows under her eyes, the paleness of her features and the deep lines of fatigue etched into her forehead. Her expression was grim even in unconsciousness.



Not knowing what possessed him, he found himself leaning down to press his lips to her forehead.



You don’t give up, Grace. You’re safe now. I won’t hurt you and I won’t allow anyone else to do so eit



her. I’m going to take you home.



CHAPTER 2



SUNLIGHT warmed her face, though she was in the grip of a pervasive chill that was bone deep. It hurt to shiver and yet she couldn’t do anything else.



It was as if there were weights pressing over her eyelids, preventing them from opening. Or perhaps she simply lacked the strength to do the simplest tasks anymore.



Pain crept over her, through her, puzzling her with its intensity. It was new. Fresh. And laiothen she remembered falling over the side, sure that death had finally come to claim her.



A soft moan escaped before she could call it back, and she chastised herself for that momentary loss of control. Such a lapse could get her killed.



Grace. Grace.



It took her a moment to realize that the person calling her name wasn’t saying it aloud but in her mind. She recoiled, wanting nothing to do with the distant voice. And then she was surrounded by strength. Warmth. It flooded into her veins, so comforting that it shook her to her core.



“Grace.”



This time it was said aloud. A deep, rough, slightly accented voice. Just a hint of another world, one she couldn’t place.



“Wake up, Grace. Let me see those gorgeous baby blues.”



Her brow wrinkled and she tried to process her surroundings. She was afraid to open her eyes. Afraid that she’d be right back in the hands of monsters, forced to do their bidding. The mere thought made her want to weep. She wasn’t strong enough to endure more.



A gentle hand stroked over her cheek and carefully pushed away her hair, tucking it over her ear. Such warmth and tenderness. It was like rain to a sun-parched desert. She soaked it up, desperate for any comfort.



It took everything she had to conquer her fear and open her eyes. Sunlight stabbed through her vision, momentarily blinding her.



“That’s it,” the man said in a low voice. “Come back to me, Grace. I need you to wake up so we can figure out how badly you’re hurt.”



At the mere mention of injuries, pain screamed through her body. Her eyes flew open and her lips parted. Her breath rushed out, her chest jerking violently with the effort.



Fear nearly paralyzed her when her gaze met with the dark eyes of a man staring intently at her. She let out a cry and tried to bolt, not even realizing that he was still holding her.



She tumbled to the ground, landing with a thud that knocked the breath from her and sent agony tearing through her body again.



The man above her cursed vehemently and he immediately knelt beside her, running those big hands over her fragile body.



“Damn it, Grace, I’m not going to hurt you.”



“I won’t go back.”



She barely managed to stammer out the defiant vow. It hurt to talk. It hurt to breathe. She felt broken. Something was broken. Her ribs, an arm…She couldn’t even decipher what was wrong with her. There was simply too much to process.



She stared up at him in panic, knowing she didn’t possess the strength to escape. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. She could do nothing to prevent him from taking her back.



A deep shudder rolled through her body, and the tears that had threatened slowly slid down her cheeks.



“Grace, I want you to listen to me.”



His voice was calm and oddly soothing. The tone mesmerized her as did those dark eyes that refused to look away from her.



“My name is Rio. I’ve come to take you home. To Shea.”



Her pulse leapt and her throat tightened. “Shea?” she croaked. “Is she all right?”



What if it was a trap? What if he was using information about her sister to lull her into a false sense of security?



He touched her cheek, his fingers infinitely gentle on her skin. He didn’t look like a man who had an ounce of gentleness in him. He was big and menacing. A warrior.



Dark skinned, like he’d spent many hours in the sun, uncaring of the conso b of theequences. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail at his nape and his eyes were as dark as night.



“I spoke to her myself,” he soothed. “I promised her I’d find you and protect you. We’re the good guys, Grace. I realize you may have a hard time believing that or trusting me, but we’re here to help you. Shea is safe and she wants very much to see you again. We’ve all been worried about you.”



More tears slid down her cheeks and a quiet sob hiccupped from her throat. “I don’t want her to see me like this.”



Something like understanding flashed in his eyes. He touched her face again, wiping at the moisture on her cheekbone.



“I need you to tell me where you’re hurt. We have to move you. We can’t stay in this location, but I need to know what we risk by moving you more than we already have.”



She glanced around, slowly taking in her surroundings for the first time. Her breath caught when she saw the others. Warriors. Like this man called Rio. Stern and forbidding. How was she to know she could trust them? What choice did she have?



They were away from where she’d fallen the night before. How had they managed to find her and how had she survived the fall? Her memory of the event was hazy. She could only remember that moment when she knew she would likely die.



She’d thought that a lot lately. Pondered her mortality as calmly as she might consider what shoes to wear. And yet she was here and alive. Broken but not defeated.



The men were facing away from where she and Rio were positioned. Watchful and wary. Guns up, their stances rigid as if they sensed danger in the very air.



“Grace,” Rio prompted. “Talk to me. I need to know how bad it is.”



She briefly closed her eyes and then reopened them, focusing once more on his face. She licked her lips. “I hurt.”



“I know you do,” he said quietly.



“The fall. I think I broke something.”

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