Wolfsbane (26 page)

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Authors: Ronie Kendig

BOOK: Wolfsbane
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Fire-hot pain spiked her shoulder. She dropped her hand and gulped the cry. Carefully she used her left hand. The slick foliage made a solid grip nearly impossible. She sloshed. The water swept her under the branch. Past it.

“No!” She groped for the branch, fearful she’d miss it and be pushed farther away.

Something wrapped around her waist. She looked down and found … boots.
What …?

“Roark!”

She peered over her shoulder.

Canyon, muscles bulging as he held on to the limb, locked his legs around her waist. “Grab hold!” With one hand he pressed a long branch toward her. “Now!”

Grinding her teeth through the pain, she caught the lifeline. Then flipped over. No matter the pain, she
had
to hold on with
both
hands. “I’m good.” The pressure around her waist lessened.

Once Canyon released her, she hooked an arm over the big limb and shimmied her way over toward shore. The pelting rain and gnashing teeth of the water nearly made her slip, drop into the river. But no way was she going back down there. She swung her gaze back to the five-foot span to the shore. Toeing the slick grass, she tried to gain solid footing. Her boots kept slipping. She’d have to swing onto shore.

Swallowing the acidic taste on her tongue at the idea of how much that would hurt, she balled up her courage and threw it into the fray. Pain ripped through her, nearly blanking out her mind. She bit through the agony and swung. One …
“Aught!”
Two … She yelped. Launched herself.

Her boots hit. Slid. Dani pitched herself forward. Dug her fingers into the soggy earth. Once convinced she was not sliding back into the river, she flipped over, holding her arm still, and gasped for a decent breath. Wouldn’t worry about the pain till she was sure he’d made it safely.

Halfway across the big limb, he alternated his arms monkey-style. He dropped next to her, legs bent. Finally, he slumped to his knees on the bank, the ground making a squishing noise in response.

Head dropped against the ground, she groaned. She wanted to curse him for making it look so easy. Beside her, she heard his deep breaths. Good. She was beginning to think he was Tarzan with the way he’d manhandled the elements of nature. The mudslide, the river, the branch. As easily as he’d tackled her during the football game with his family.
Wow, that seems like eons ago
.

“How’re you?”

She craned her neck to where he lay next to her, about a head higher. “Alive.”

He rolled and pushed onto his knees again. Quietly he worked, untethering them. “We need to get out of sight.” He wrapped the cord twice around his waist before scooting closer. Taking her hand in his, he gently placed the other palm against her shoulder.

She sucked in a breath, frantic at what she saw in his eyes. “What’re you doing?”

“Assessing your injury.”

Trust him … trust him …
But the pain level rose with each manipulation. She winced and cringed but tried to keep the intensity from her face.

“Dislocated.” Canyon shifted closer, still kneeling as he hovered over her. “Ready?”

Horror strangled her response. All she could offer was a
heck-no-I’m-not-ready-but-I-don’t-really-have-a-choice
nod. She’d seen this before. It wasn’t pretty. Stomach knotted into a tight coil, she closed her eyes.

Cupping her elbow, he tightened the grip on her hand. He lifted her arm parallel to her body and turned it inward, across her stomach. Then drew it back out—straight across.

Pop!

Daggers shot through her arm. She arched her back and screamed—

A hand clamped over her mouth.

The pain faded with her muffled scream. She blinked back tears as she looked up at Canyon. Through the patches of greasepaint still on his face, she saw raw worry.

“Better?”

Nodding seemed the right answer. She stared up through the tree limbs where the first rays of dawn peeked through the leaves. Leftover rain dribbled from the swaying branches and splatted against her face.

“We need to head into the trees. Ready?”

She pulled herself up, the ground suctioning her drenched clothes. “Yeah.” Though aching and sore, her shoulder only hassled her with an aching throb as they trudged up the slick incline away from the river.

As they hiked Canyon seemed unfazed, alert and tackling the jungle. As if none of that had just happened. No terrifying plunge down the side of a mountain in a mudslide. No diving into the river and nearly drowning. No swimming through angry waters. Remembering it exhausted her, weighted her courage and limbs. But Canyon … he seemed made for this.

“I think I’ll call you Tarzan.”

He paused, for the two seconds it took his gorgeous blue eyes to track over her. The fading paint made him appear mysterious and fierce. Though he looked like he wanted to say something, he grunted and started walking again.

“Are we heading back to the team?” “No.”

Was he kidding? Dani scurried up beside him.

“No?”

Without answering, he wound through the trees. Over brush and roots. His wet pants swished loudly, emphasizing his movements. Just like hers. Matter of fact, if they kept this up for long, she’d have a blister or two in a few unmentionable places.

“Where are we going?”

“Out.”

She grabbed his arm and hauled him around. “Stop and tell me what’s going on.”

Frowning, he considered her for a second, then scanned the trees. Muscle taut beneath her hand, he didn’t move or look at her again. “What do you want to know?”

“You’re wired so tight you’re rigged to blow. Why?”

He huffed. “We have no supplies, no radio communication, no weapons, and—” His mouth clamped shut, eyes darting back and forth.

What was he seeing that she wasn’t? “And?”

“We’re in guerilla territory.”

CHAPTER 16

Lambert Residence, Maryland
3 May

W
e’re in a boatload of trouble.”

“I’m seeing that.” Olin glanced at the news footage of the mudslide in Miranda, Venezuela. Awfully close to the team’s position.

“We’ve lost the medic,” Max shouted, the din of rain and thunder making it hard to hear him. “And the girl.”

Olin’s knees weakened. He slumped back against the kitchen wall and gripped his head as he clutched the secure satellite phone to his ear. “What do you mean, ‘lost’?”

“Went down with the mud. Lost line of sight in the trees.”

Olin grabbed the thin threads of hope. “You … then they might still be alive?”

“Yeah … maybe. I don’t know.”

Swallowing hard against the daunting news did little to dislodge the lump in his throat. Danielle dying down there … He couldn’t let that happen. Jacqueline would never forgive him. Then again, he’d never forgive himself.

And the mission. If they got her and Wolfsbane back alive, without the proof of the facility or WMDs, Danielle would still face federal prison. Or death.

Crack-rumble-crack!

“We’ve tried to find them but no-go.”

“Have you compromised your position?”

“No, sir. It’s lonely out here.”

“Then proceed with the mission.”

“Sir?”

“You heard me, Alpha. Get it done.” He hated the cold, callous tone, but it was important.

A long stream of static filled the connection.

“Roger. Out.”

Stumbling forward, Olin reached for the cold, marble counter. He leaned against it, phone cradled in his hand, and propped his forehead in his other. He couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t let this mission fail. The ramifications were too big. Quickly he dialed the number of a Special Forces group down that way.

When the line connected, Olin folded his emotions neatly into the foot locker of familiarity in mission planning. “Colonel Hamer, I need a favor.”

Somewhere in Miranda, Venezuela 4 May

Squish!

Dani cringed. Not at the sloshing of the mud around her boots, but the telltale wetness that just erupted in her sock. Burning along her heel was now saturated with a warm, gooiness. Blisters. They were forming around her toes, ankles, and collar. But stopping meant surrender.

I won’t go back
.

Why hadn’t she listened to herself? Federal prison sounded really cozy right now compared to this jungle. With the storms dumping rain on them, in guerilla territory. Unable to make it to the facility so Nightshade could take them into the belly of the beast to prove the nuclear program being developed beneath the noses of every UN country actually existed—it all felt so hopeless. If she and Canyon got out alive … well, the
if
was too big to contemplate right now.

But the man with her—

Her gaze lifted to his strong, sturdy frame. Hiking without complaint or conversation. Moving with stealth and skill. Her life was in his hands. She gave a soft snort realizing she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else on the planet right now than here with Canyon Metcalfe.

Her boot caught on a tree root and pitched her forward. Hands grazed bark, plunged into the earth. Mud splashed her face. On all fours, Dani ground her teeth.

“Having fun?” Canyon squatted beside her.

She flopped onto her backside, let out a sigh, and shook her hands out, making sure the mud splatted him. Rain washed down her face, probably making her look worse. But she just didn’t care. Wiping her
hands down the legs of her pants, she nodded to him. “Sure.” She was everything—hungry, thirsty, exhausted—but having fun.

He glanced around the area. “We can’t stop here. I know you’re tired, probably have some blisters. It’ll be nightfall in a few hours. We’ll stop then.” He shifted in his squat. “Think you can make it?”

Agitation and humiliation wove a wicked garment around her mind. How could he be so undaunted, unfazed, un-tired? “Yes, Tarzan, I can make it.” She would. Even if she died walking.

He smirked and stood. Again, he looked around but this time also up. What? Was he going to swing on some vines and whisk her to safety? Hand held out to her, he grinned. “Come here.”

Mud sucked against her jeans as she stood, slipped, then regained her balance. Using the back of her hand, she pushed hair from her face.

Canyon caught her elbow and tugged her to the side. “Here.” He reached up, drew her closer, then angled a large wide leaf down … to another … “Drink.” He cupped the leaf and aimed it at her face.

Water splatted her face at first, then Dani tilted her head back and drank. Relief closed her eyes as water splashed her throat. Not a gush, just enough to moisten the parched desert in her mouth. She smiled and pushed her hair back. A small giggle escaped, amazed at how much better she felt for just that small bit of refreshment.

“I’ll get you out of here.” Husky but strong, his words made her open her eyes. Beneath the mercy of the weather, she peered up at him. Only as what he meant hit her—
I won’t leave you or quit till you’re safe—
did Dani realize his arm was around her. He had that same look as the night he’d kissed her.

She allowed herself to lean into him, using his strength as her own. “I know. I trust—”

Crack!

Screeching birds in the distance shattered the moment.

Canyon stiffened, his head snapping to her right. Though the foliage blocked their view, they both listened. “We’d better get moving.”

Onward and downward … down the mountainside. For hours. Their quiet aside and rehydration bolstered Dani’s resolve to maintain course. Only as they hiked and her boots rubbed her flesh raw did she realize she’d follow Canyon to the ends of the earth. And that’s exactly what this journey felt like right now.

Night crept through the branches and leaves. Again, the rigorous terrain weighted her with exhaustion. She tripped but caught herself.

“Here.” Canyon moved off to the side. “Sit.”

Too numb to ask why or argue, Dani dropped against a tree and slid down the bark to the ground. Through half-closed eyelids, she watched him draw out his knife, slice through several tall stalks, saw off a few branches, then hack off leaves. With his repetitive motions and noises her mind lulled to sleep.

“Roark.”

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