Chapter Two
The gunshots outside their hut woke Bianca. After they’d managed to get a fire burning, she’d boiled water in one of the two tin cups Collin found. It had taken them a while, but she managed to get water for both of them—enough to slake their thirst. Collin finally gave in to sleep and rested with his head pillowed on Bianca’s lap.
Heart pounding, she laid a hand on Collin’s head. The boy hadn’t stirred at the sharp report of the gun or the steady shouting of a single man outside. His angry, demanding voice sent chills down her spine. No more gunfire followed. Since they’d dumped her inside, none of the men had come back. The door remained closed even after she got the fire going.
The lack of attention also meant they didn’t deliver any food, either. The water helped, but the heat, the lack of food, and the stress of waiting to see when or if they would come through the door wore at her. The men had made no demands she understood, nor had they sent her back out to dig her grave.
Had they forgotten about them? Were they doomed to die in the hot little building, victims of starvation? The average adult could survive roughly three weeks without food. It wouldn’t be pretty, but they could make. Dehydration was a far greater danger. She’d boiled more water before they’d taken their rest. It would be cool enough to drink when Collin woke.
Stroking his hair lightly, she leaned her head against the wall. It couldn’t have been more than a day since they’d been taken. Yet every minute passed with what felt like the ache of years. Louder voices shouted right outside the hut and she had to fight the tension coiling in her spine.
Please don’t come in here. Please don’t come in here…
When the sounds drifted away, she released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Bianca?” The scared little tremble drifted to her ears and she paused midstroke against his hair.
“It’s okay, kiddo. They’re gone.” I hope.
“I want to go home,” he said in a voice so small and desperate, her heart broke.
“Me, too.” Some people embraced the mistaken belief they had to make light of a bad situation, especially when it involved kids. Her experience taught her otherwise. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Collin. I promise you, I will do everything I can to get us out of here.”
“You mean like a jailbreak?”
Her eyes, having long since adjusted to the ugly gloom inside their sweltering hothouse, read the spark of hope in his eyes. “Maybe.”
It might be a bad idea, but when one ran out of good ideas or options it was better to go with the bad ones. Maybe she could distract their captors long enough for Collin to make a run for the jungle—but would he be any safer there?
Not knowing where they were or how far he would have to travel, alone, didn’t make it an easy decision or one she wanted to really contemplate.
At least not yet.
“I can help.” So solemn. So sincere. So sweet.
“I know you can, but resting is the best thing we can do. We need lots more water, and we need to be ready to run.” If they went, it could take a hell of a long time to reach civilization.
“Then you should rest, too.”
She needed to add stubborn to her list of attributes for the kid. “I’ll try. For now, you go to sleep.”
He closed his eyes obediently. Fear was toxic. It invaded the body like a virus, storming the system and overwhelming it. His exhaustion reflected the toll stress had taken on him. Their little fire flickered, guttering against the hot breeze drifting down the copper pipe. It was suffocating inside the hut, but despite the temperature increase the fire seemed to help with the musty stench.
Or maybe she was just getting used to it. She had during the recovery and rebuild in Thailand after the tsunami where she’d pitched in to help while her parents worked in the field hospital. It was the first time she’d realized that helping others was what she wanted to do with her life. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on regulating her breathing. If she could calm her mind, she could think the problem through. Failing that, maybe she could get some sleep.
What she’d told Collin was true. If they were to survive, they needed to rest. The torn skin on her knee, the blisters on her hand, the cracked and bleeding nails courtesy of breaking wood on the bed played a symphony of hurts through her system.
A sudden scream beyond the cabin jerked her awake. Groggily, she blinked and went still. Collin was still curled against her lap, the fire was out, and what light had leaked in through the cracks before was gone. The room was pitch black, and she wasn’t sure if she’d heard a scream or dreamed it…
Another scream, this one more horrifying than the first. Collin jerked up and released a choked sob. “Bianca?”
“I’m here,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. Letting him burrow into her embrace, she kept her gaze focused in the direction of the door. A third scream, then the gunfire started. Bullets sprayed across the ceiling, the wood shutters over one of the windows splintering.
Bianca rolled over the top of Collin. “Stay down.”
The boy didn’t argue. More terrified shrieks shredded the night. Then another shuttered window came apart, and the door began to break apart under the frequent bursts of gunfire. More bullets slammed into the brick walls, then abruptly cut off.
A howl cut through the air. All the hair on her body seemed to stand on end. A blood-curdling scream jolted her as it echoed right outside the window nearest them. Whatever was going on out there was war. Collin shook beneath her and Bianca couldn’t say she was much better.
The door crashed open and suddenly one of their captors charged in. Spitting rapid Spanish, he lunged at Bianca, and she barely got her arm up to block the anticipated blow when he dragged her away from Collin. Shrieking, the child fought to hold on to her even as she began beating on the guerilla.
Her fists seemed ineffectual against his strength. Cuffing her once, he shifted his grip and struck her across the face. Falling, she blinked against the stars dazzling her vision. Once she was down, he ignored her and seized Collin.
“No!” She wouldn’t let him take the boy. Collin struggled for all he was worth, but like Bianca, he was no match for the man’s much larger size and strength. Pushing away from the floor, she hurtled herself at the man. Shouts echoed outside, but she struck as hard as she could, then dug her nails into his face.
All of a sudden, he dropped Collin in order to seize her. Grappling with him, she yelled, “Run!”
The boy gave her one terror-filled glance then bolted for the door. One moment she fought, the next her captor locked one hand around her throat even as he wrenched her arm at an awkward angle. Tears filled her eyes as sharp pain ripped through her. The wrench of muscles pulling burned. Time spun as she kept fighting. The agony threatened to black her out. Then a sharp slice dug into her arm, like being stabbed. Before she could process the fresh pain, the man was off her. A snarling filled the cabin, a sound so dark and reverberating it penetrated her adrenaline- and pain-fueled haze.
Her captor screamed as he went down. Bianca froze, cradling her wounded arm to her chest. She wasn’t sure what was worse—the ache or the fear. The shadows seemed to seethe, growls vying with the retched screams until the latter faded away and the former grew ominously silent.
A thud echoed as the mangled remains of the soldier struck the floor. Bianca didn’t dare move or breathe. Tears pooled in her eyes, pain flaring in her injured wrist, forearm, and shoulder. The darkness shifted, and her heart seemed to thunder in her ears as light gathered into a pair of golden, glowing eyes, then a deeper shadow separated from the gloom and coalesced into—a wolf?
Fear raced over the surface of her skin. A wild animal. A wolf—primitive, dangerous—and she was alone with it. More terrified than she’d been of the soldiers, she didn’t dare move.
Swallowing hard, Bianca squeezed her eyes closed and prayed. Please be a nightmare…
Even the cries from outside had gone silent. Time seemed to elongate as she waited for the animal to tear her apart. When nothing happened, she dared to open her eyes. The wolf was gone, but the corpse remained. Bile coated her throat, and her heart thundered in her ears. Stumbling to her feet, she turned away from the body and limped to the door.
The world tilted as she walked, swaying as if she were on a boat. It was nauseating, as though she’d lost her grip on reality after one too many drinks. Even with the body behind her, outside was the stuff of nightmares.
Collin’s shout pulled her attention away from the gore. Oh, thank God, he was safe. When he reached her, she fell to her knees and endured the sharp bite of pain as he crushed her wounded arm between them. Wrapping her good arm around him, she forced herself to her feet while lifting the sturdy kid.
Dizziness assaulted her, but she refused to stay there. Bodies were everywhere… “Keep your eyes closed,” she ordered Collin. He didn’t need to see the horror show. Even if he had already seen it, he certainly didn’t need to see it again.
Scanning the village, all she saw were bodies…dead bodies and nothing else.
A wolf had done all this…?
Impossible.
Turning away from the carnage, she stumbled in the direction she faced. The more miles she put between them and the terror-filled village, the better. She’d made it a dozen steps when a man stepped into view.
Fresh fear flooded her, but though the man carried a weapon and wore an open shirt in what the faint moonlight revealed to be a camouflage pattern, he didn’t lunge at them.
“My name is Sergeant Carlos Castillo—we’re here to take you home.”
Oh.
Rescue.
Suddenly, Collin weighed too much, and Bianca collapsed onto her knees.
They were saved.
She could pass out now.
…
Cage barely finished his introduction when the source of the feminine scent he’d been tracking swayed. The width of her pupils drowned out the color in her eyes. Covered in dirt, sweat, bruises, and blood, she looked altogether fragile as she paled and crumpled. Rushing forward, he barely managed to catch her before her head impacted with the ground.
Fresh alarm streaked through Collin Valenzuela’s scent. The boy clung to her, and tears streaked through the dirt coating his face. “Bianca!”
“I’ve got her,” he assured the boy, but the child wasn’t mollified.
Almost snarling, Collin threw himself at Cage, all flailing fists and bared teeth, spitting anger. “I won’t let you hurt her.”
Wolf and man both united in their pride at the child’s need to defend the woman. She’d obviously been protecting him, and her fresh bruises and opened wounds served as a testament to her suffering.
“Butterscotch muffins, Collin.” It sounded ridiculous to his ears, but Collin’s mother insisted it was a code phrase she’d taught her son. Almost immediately, the child stopped beating his ineffectual fists on Cage’s chest.
Hiccuping, he withdrew but didn’t disengage from where he still held onto Bianca. The woman’s fragile weight lay against Cage’s free arm, and he ruffled Collin’s hair.
“You did good, and you’re right to protect her.” One by one, the other wolves reappeared. They’d shifted after verifying no survivors remained among the guerillas. It would take them all a minute to get their gear back on. Cage hadn’t had time to do more than fasten his pants and pull on his shirt. If they looked down, they’d see his bare feet.
“Hey, kid, I’m Silver,” the lanky wolf shifter said, all Southern smoothness and charm. “Will you let us help her?”
Though he hesitated, Collin let Silver draw him away. The man would verify the state of Collin’s injuries, even as he gave him fresh water from a bottle. Cage swung his glance over the destruction they’d wrought. When the number of soldiers they faced went over twenty-five, they’d gone wolf to deal with it. Faster, more efficient and fewer bullets to expend. It reduced the chances that their rescues might catch friendly fire.
“All clear,” Butler alerted him as he swung away from their small group to begin a grid search. He would check every body and remove it. Trust but verify—even when their noses and ears told them they’d achieved their first goal of eliminating the threat. Once the corpses were stacked in one of the huts, they’d set a fire. No evidence of their presence could be left behind. The animals would be turned loose. No one would care about the corpses—or the bones. People died on this range all the time.
Jeremiah dropped next to him and broke out the emergency med kit. With two fingers, he checked the woman’s—Bianca’s—pulse, then went over her, looking for injuries.
“Her arm’s broken…knee’s torn up…face is bruised…possible cheekbone fracture.” With swift efficiency, he tested the bones in her arm. Cage kept her braced against him, her back to his chest. The woman had put up a hell of a fight. Blood and pain mingled with fierce determination coated the inside of the cabin.
He’d followed their leader when Collin raced out. A split second to make a decision, and Jeremiah had already streaked after the boy to make sure no one touched him. Thankfully, the momentary hesitation hadn’t cost Bianca her life. She’d been fighting when Cage charged and ripped the guy off of her. The darkness hid his form from her—he hoped—but for now, it didn’t matter.
She was a civilian, she’d been in danger, and he saved her.
“Gonna set the arm.” Jeremiah’s warning didn’t prepare him for the teeth-grinding sound of her bone being realigned. Bianca released a pained moan, but she didn’t wake up.
Probably a good thing, considering her suffering.
Next, Jeremiah injected her in the thigh. “Keep watch on her. This is straight-up antibiotics. I don’t scent any infection, but she’s filthy, which means those open wounds are being exposed to it.”
It was only then that her state of dress registered—a one-piece bathing suit, no shoes. Damn. His wolf perked up, definitely interested, and Cage muzzled him. She’s bleeding, broken, and in pain, and you want to check her out? Admiration for her tenacity or not, it simply wasn’t cool.
Cage could have sworn his wolf snorted, but the animal retreated a fraction.
“Is she okay?” Collin asked in a trembling voice. Terror-induced fatigue had left the little man drained.
“She will be,” Cage assured him. “We’re just cleaning her up so we can carry her out of here. Can you walk?” They could order him around and would if the need arose to protect him. Yet, the amount of grit the child demonstrated coupled with his fierce protection of Bianca earned him a measure of respect from Cage.
“Take care of her, they hurt her a lot—made her dig a garden, too.”
A garden? Behind Collin, Silver mouthed one word. Grave. Good thing the bastards were already dead, because Cage wished he could kill them all over again.
Then, the boy swiped a hand across his tear-streaked face. “She’s my friend.”
“We’ll take care of her,” Silver promised for all of them. The other wolf was damn good with kids and Collin nodded, his trust in them alleviating some of the fear staining his scent. He might have nightmares for a while, but if Cage read the boy right, he’d come through just fine.
“Lot of blood here,” Jeremiah said, subvocal. The low words wouldn’t be audible to their young charge. “Looks like she has some deeper lacerations, but the skin glue should hold it together until we get her to a real medic.”
Keeping Bianca braced, Cage pulled on his boots. Butler grabbed the rest of his gear. Buttoning his shirt took a little more effort, but he managed. As soon as Jeremiah finished, Cage passed over his M4, then lifted Bianca into his arms. “Butler, take point…Jeremiah, you’re on my six. Silver, keep Collin with you.”
The central hut burned cheerfully as they moved away. Butler had added a trench around the building. It wasn’t too deep, but it was more than enough to keep the flames from spreading, especially with the gathering clouds. Daily storms were a fact of life.
They took their time making their way back out of the park. The local animals gave them a wide berth, and they encountered no more members of whatever little pocket of resistance decided to target a child and his nanny. Bianca barely stirred during the hike, her uninjured cheek pressed against his shoulder. Her slight weight created almost no burden for him, but he kept his grip gentle lest he cause her any other pain.
A mile from their insertion point, her breathing altered to more shallow respiration, threadier, and her gorgeous hazel eyes jerked open. Cage paused, body braced for her panic. He wouldn’t let her hurt herself, but he didn’t want to frighten her, either.
“Bianca,” he said in as kind and firm a voice as he could muster. Her eyes widened, pupil dilation drowning out the color. “I’m Sergeant Castillo—you can call me Cage. We’re here to take you home. You’re safe.” He measured the force he applied to the last word. He needed her to trust him, at least long enough to verify her condition.
“Collin?” The husky rasp of her low voice stroked over his senses.
“He’s safe.” Shifting his stance, he turned so she could see Collin leaning against Silver. The others had all halted when he had. The boy’s demeanor brightened at seeing her eyes open. “You’re both safe, and we’re getting you out of here.”
“Water.” The husky rasp threatened to go hoarser. Silver approached, a canteen open, and he tipped it to her lips so she could drink. They kept it slow, watching intently. Her gratitude rolled over him like a palpable force. “Thank you.”
“No problem, ma’am.” Just doing his job, though even his wolf preened at the way she focused on him.
“I can walk,” she offered, but her voice hadn’t grown stronger, and her pulse remained unsteady.
“No need, I got you.” The words seemed simple, yet he felt the binding force of them as he said them aloud. He didn’t want to let her go.
“Thank you,” she whispered, the fight abandoning her even as her eyes closed. Then she pressed her cheek against his shoulder once more. Her trust buoyed him. They would not let her down.
The first fingers of dawn streaked the sky as they emerged from the park. An ambulance awaited them, as did Collin’s ambassador mother. Their reunion brought a smile to Cage’s lips even as he set Bianca down on the paramedic’s cot. As reluctant as he was to leave her, he had to force himself to withdraw. The men went to work, checking and treating her injuries. Jeremiah gave them a fast rundown on what they’d done for her in the field.
It was time for them to disappear again, yet he lingered a moment—half hoping she would open her eyes. He wanted to see them again before he left.
“Damn, looks like something bit her…”
The paramedic’s voice ripped through him, and he closed the distance to the cot again. They’d freed her arm from the bandaging, and there on the inside of her forearm was the telltale signs of broken skin—shit! Ice sheathed the sudden rush of blood to his head, and Cage froze.
In his effort to save her, had he committed a far worse crime?
Had he bitten her?