Just the simple task of walking was becoming harder and harder. Reaper’s energy was tapping out, and it would continue to drain until he plugged the hole in his chest. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, pain burned through his shoulder constantly, making every incremental move torture. Not that he couldn’t handle a little torture. He just preferred not to be pain.

If he lost consciousness before he was able to locate a safe hiding place for them to recuperate, there was no doubt that the general would find them, siphon Caroline until she was bled dry, and more than likely dissect Reaper to try to figure out what made him tick.

Oddly enough, one of the things grounding him to the present was Caroline’s soft hand clasped in his. She was so tiny, her head topping out at about the center of his chest. Everything about her screamed fragile, from her bone structure to her size to those big blue eyes that practically swallowed up her entire face. She needed his protection.

It was a thought that should’ve been annoying, but it instead sent a surge of primal satisfaction through him. Feeling such a riot of emotions when she was near made him oddly off-balance. He was so used to being on solid footing, to making split-second decisions without regret or doubt. His little golden goose was making him feel weird things.

And that kind of weakness was nothing he could afford.

“So did my father give you the orders directly?”

Reaper winced at Caroline’s innocent question. Of course her father hadn’t given him any orders. The senator had been dead for well over a month, killed by Jack Mankel, the very man responsible for convincing Reaper and his team to join Project Mayhem. But if the princess thought her daddy was responsible for her sudden exit from the experiment, Reaper sure as hell wasn’t going to break the news. He needed her cooperation—at least until he fully recovered from the gunshot wound. He couldn’t risk that she’d escape while he was too weak to give chase. “Don’t know.”

Her frustration was a rubber band snapping him in the back. He could practically feel her glare pinning him between his shoulder blades. She tried to yank her hand free, but he held on, unwilling to sever their connection.

“What do you know?” she said.

Reaper detected the distant sound of vehicles hauling ass into the jungle from the direction of the bunker. The general and his men would be in hot pursuit. Even if they weren’t worried about capturing and killing Reaper, Caroline was the key to the whole project. Without her, Project Mayhem wouldn’t make Gen. Rainier his fortune.

“What I do know is that they’re chasing us. The more you talk and distract me, the slower we go and the more likely it is that we’ll get captured.”

She gasped and tried to yank her hand away again. “You are grumpier than a toddler at naptime when you’re hurt.”

Reaper drew up short. “Did you just compare me to a child?”

The woman had lost her mind. Reaper spun and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at her. He couldn’t help but notice the dark purple shadows underneath her eyes and the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath that god-awful hospital gown. His little blabbermouth was running low on energy too, probably the adrenaline wearing off. Was that something women did when they were getting tired? Talking, talking, talking for no reason?

But apparently she had enough energy to plant her fists on her hips and glare right back at him. “Yes, I did. Did that hurt your manly sensibilities?”

“I don’t have manly sensibilities.”

She sniffed, a cute little curling of her nose that clearly showed her disdain for his comment. For the first time in his memory Reaper felt the need to defend his actions. “Would a child be able to rescue you from a compound of killers? Or get you out of a jungle full of creatures that want to eat you alive?”

Her firm lips drooped into a slight frown.

“Would a child kill for you? Take a bullet for you?”

Her once firm shoulders now drooped considerably. Caroline’s defiant gaze dropped to the ground and her bare toes curled in the spongy moss beneath her feet. “You’re right.”

“Damn straight, I’m right.”

Thinking the conversation over, Reaper quickly scanned their surroundings, focusing his energy on the still-distant sounds of engines and men. Sounds Caroline wouldn’t be able to detect, not for at least another couple of miles.

“It’s just that you’re the first person who’s talked to me and even touched me in so long,” her trembling, breathless voice drew his attention. Fat tears filled her eyes. “I feel so strange, Reaper. I haven’t seen my father or my friends. I-I didn’t even know if they were still alive. And that shot Dr. Winters gave me is making me feel so weird.”

One tear escaped her lower lid and trailed down her cheek. Her chin wobbled.

Reaper took a step back, completely at a loss for what to do. He didn’t want to be anywhere near a crying woman, and he definitely couldn’t afford for her to waste precious minutes sobbing.

“Yeah, well, I’m not letting him take you back.” There, he’d reassured her.

Only it didn’t have the desired effect. Instead of stopping the tears, it made them flow more freely. “I owe you my life.”

He scrubbed a hand over his skull-trimmed hair, the movement sending bolts of pain through his injured shoulder. This was a lose-lose situation.

When he didn’t know what to do, he usually asked one of his teammates. Granted, that didn’t happen very often. As a matter of fact, it had only happened one time—a chunk of concrete had slammed into the side of his head from an explosion in one of the houses they’d raided. He’d almost been knocked unconscious.

“So, what exactly do you need to stop crying?”

If possible, her eyes grew even bigger and her mouth fell open. She stared at him like he was an alien or some creature from another planet.

Shit. He braced himself for the waterworks to go into high gear. Caroline sucked in a breath and then burst out laughing, wrapping her arms around her waist and bending over double.

Reaper was at her side instantly, grabbing her arms to lift her up straight. Had he pushed her over the edge of sanity somehow? “Caroline, take a deep breath. Just focus on my voice.” He couldn’t afford for her to lose it. Not yet, anyway. He sure as hell didn’t have the strength to carry her out of the jungle. She’d have to walk out on her bare feet.

Reaper frowned down at those cute little toes. How could he not have noticed before now that she didn’t have shoes? With all the unknowns crawling across the ground in this place, it was highly likely she’d cut herself and get a potentially deadly infection. Or step on a poisonous insect. Either scenario put her in danger.

But at the moment that wasn’t his immediate concern. She was still laughing and crying at the same time. She was definitely cracking up. Reaper grasped for something to say, anything that would calm her down. She’d expressed concern about her father, but he sure as hell couldn’t talk about her dad. That would definitely send her over the edge, and this was no time for mourning.

He didn’t know her well enough to know the things she liked and didn’t like. Hell, he hadn’t known she wouldn’t like seeing blood or severed body parts.

“Listen,” he said, “I vow on my life to get you out of here.” It was only the truth. He would give up his life to get her back to his team because that was the only way to ensure their continued existence. “We are not going to die in this jungle. Not today.”

Caroline shrugged free of his grip and wiped her eyes, her chuckles fading into soft hiccups. “Reaper, I know that. I trust you. I really just needed to vent some of my emotions.”

Emotions? Her emotions had exploded like a ticking truckload of C4. “So does that mean you’re better now?”

She grinned, and before he could stop her, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed the side of her face against the hollow in his chest. He froze in shock, his arms held out straight a few inches from his sides.

Caroline sighed, reached for his hands and placed them around her shoulders. “It’s called a hug. I’m not going to bite you.”

A glow of pleasure spiked through his system. She fit against him perfectly, the soft swell of her breasts pressed against his stomach and her tangled mop of blonde hair silky smooth.

Something like contentment fed him and he stood there a moment longer than he should have, enjoying her touch.

When she pulled away, there was a faint line of blood on the edge of her cheek where it had touched the trail streaming down part of his chest. In a trance, Reaper thumbed the stain smudging her skin. For that brief moment he let himself imagine he could let himself be weak. Let himself want her. Maybe this was how hope felt. And then the dull roar of engines gunning in the distance penetrated his senses and that fairytale was dashed instantly.

Reaper dropped his hand and Caroline grabbed it. He decided he would allow her that small weakness for now, anything that would get them moving and get them the hell out of this godforsaken jungle.

“They’re getting closer by the minute. I can hear the engines. We got to pick up the pace.”

Caroline tilted her head to the side, listening. “You’re right.” She swallowed, the muscles in her slim throat working. “They must be really close.”

Reaper froze, studying her worried expression for any hint of dishonesty. There was no way she could detect that sound that far out. It wasn’t possible unless . . .

Of course, Caroline would be able to detect sound that far out—her blood was the source of Reaper’s enhancements. She had probably been experiencing all of their symptoms since birth. Only she was less sensitized to them because she’d never known any different.

She’d been raised in the privileged life of a senator away from covert operations run by Jack Mankel. She’d been sheltered, coddled and probably given everything she had ever wanted or needed.

She was a princess.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

The thought drove a spike of self-disgust through him. Even if he ever did allow himself to have a relationship, which he wouldn’t, it wouldn’t be with someone high and mighty like her. He’d need a woman who was rough around the edges, someone who could handle his . . . lifestyle. Not that he’d stay with anyone long enough for them to find out about what he did for a living.

But none of that mattered anyway. He was not interested in Caroline Cotter or her curvy body.

He was only interested in her for what she could do for him—and that was the same thing she’d done for Dr. Winters.

But if she really were enhanced like him, he’d have to tread carefully. The serum had amped up all of his men’s senses—and their exaggerated smell, sight, hearing, and touch had also helped them pick up on emotions in a heightened way. Lust. Fear. Like predators did in the wild.

If she was as adept at picking up on emotions as his teammate Thornton was, all Reaper had to do was let loose a bit of the soul-eating guilt that had been his constant companion since that day in the lab . . .

Reaper closed his eyes and thought back to that day when the bell had sounded and, like Pavlov’s dogs, his men had gone on a murderous rampage, killing every civilian insight.

Reaper too.

He’d never willingly taken out an innocent in his entire life. But that god-awful day he and the others had been transformed into monsters. Killing machines who weren’t their own masters. He hadn’t snapped again since then, but there were no guarantees he wouldn’t do it again. What if he snapped around Caroline?

Reaper rubbed his temples, the guilt-driven pain pounding through his veins. It was enough to take him to his knees. How could he have ever trusted the government with his men’s lives? How could he have failed everyone so spectacularly?

“Reaper, are you okay?” Caroline’s hesitant voice broke through the nightmares, and he cracked his lids to see her standing there, brows drawn together. She clearly wasn’t as adept at reading emotions as Thornton.

Reaper shoved his memories back, slamming them into the little box he’d made especially for them. Letting that beast out of its cage had served a purpose though—it’d severed any feelings he might’ve started having for Caroline Cotter. He couldn’t let his men be destroyed.

No matter what.