Whispers in the Dark - Maya Banks [21]
She’d go back to blond the next time she moved. The important part was that whenever she left an area, that same woman didn’t appear somewhere else.
Back at her hotel, she took the handgun out of her bag and placed it on the nightstand so it would be within easy reach. The rest of her things she left packed in case she needed to make a fast getaway.
She was starving, but she was more exhausted. She sank onto the bed, grimaced at the hard lumpy mattress and closed her eyes.
It was automatic to reach for Nathan. She’d checked on him frequently as she made the drive to Southern California. Part of her fatigue was from maintaining such constant contact.
To her surprise, he was alert, intensely so. Rigid, crouched in his cell, rage so prevalent that it rolled through her like fire.
This time there wasn’t a hesitation. He’d grown used to sensing her as soon as she brushed against his mind. He no longer questioned her presence.
They’re working Swanson over, goddamn it.
Fury hit her like a tornado. Nathan boiled with it. Helpless fury. He clenched and unclenched his hands, and hatred clawed at Shea until she flinched from the negative wash that poured from him.
She did the only thing she felt capable of doing. She wrapped herself around him and held on, offering him whatever comfort she could.
You’ll be free soon. Believe that, Nathan. Swanson too.
Damn right. I swear to God, I’ll get him out.
She sensed strength in him that hadn’t been there before. Renewed determination. An iron will that was nearly tangible. Thank God. He was ready to fight. He was refusing to give up.
This time there was no pain for her to take. He’d blocked it out himself with the uncontrollable anger that rocked his body. His focus was on his teammate.
Part of her wanted to shield him from the sounds of his teammate’s suffering, but she knew that it was what was feeding his rage and determination. So she sat there with him, holding him as he shook with fury.
The door of his cell burst open. Nathan shot to his feet, startling Shea and sending her sprawling on the bed. Two guns were pointed at him as he was yanked forcibly to his feet.
This time they didn’t bind him. They dragged him out of the cell, down a dim hallway that must have been a pathway in the cave. A moment later he was thrust into blinding sunlight.
Shea winced and blinked as Nathan threw his arm over his ravaged eyes. Her sight was distorted because he couldn’t see. All she saw were flashes of light, the ground. The air was cold. The wind bit at Nathan’s naked body as he was shoved to his knees.
Gradually he blinked and squinted enough that he could see, and she sucked in her breath at the sight before her.
Swanson was standing a few feet away, bloodied and bruised, his eyes bleak. The left side of his face was a mess. There was a ragged cut that ran from his temple, over his jaw and lower to his neck. The flesh lay open, blood streaming. There was panic and defeat in his eyes.
“Don’t you do it, Swanny. Don’t you fucking do it,” Nathan said, echoing words from the teammate who’d been killed in front of him.
Shea gasped when the barrel of a pistol was jammed into the back of Nathan’s head. Oh God, they were going to use him to break Swanson because Nathan had been unbreakable so far.
They no longer had use for Nathan. Maybe they’d grown tired or bored or frustrated with their efforts.
Now, Nathan. You have to fight now. You have your hands. They aren’t expecting you to fight. Oh God, you have to try.
Tears poured down Shea’s cheeks. She couldn’t allow this. She’d never felt more helpless in her life.
Nathan lifted his gaze so that he stared straight back at Swanson, and Shea caught her breath at the silent exchange. It was do-or-die time for both of them.
I’m with you, Nathan. I won’t leave you.
The men holding Swanson began barking a series of questions in broken English. Swanson stood there like a stone, his expression impassive. Then he seemed to crumble.
“All right, all