Whispers in the Dark - Maya Banks [23]
Swanson’s eyes snapped open. Color flooded back into the one undamaged cheek and he drew in deep breaths. “Holy fuck.”
Shea worked at pushing all of the energy she received from Grace into Nathan. She was fast weakening and she knew there was still a long way to go before Nathan and Swanson were safe.
Then Nathan broke suddenly away.
That’s enough. His voice was harsh and laced with worry. Stay with me, Shea. I know you’re weak, but I need you. We need you.
Shea retreated and focused solely on her sister. Grace. Are you okay? Talk to me, Grace.
Her sister’s soft moan of pain splintered Shea’s heart. Oh God.
Stop it, Shea. I’m not dying, for fuck’s sake. I may feel like it, but your guy broke the link before it got too involved. I was at least able to fix his lung.
Shea closed her eyes in relief. Thank you, Nathan.
Now break away, Grace demanded. I can’t believe I’m the one telling you that this time, but I can feel how weak you are and I have no idea what the fuck kind of mess you’ve landed yourself in, but be careful, and as soon as this is over, you better talk to me because you have a lot of explaining to do and I want to make damn sure you’re all right.
I promise.
And then Grace was gone. Shea feared that it was worse than what Grace was letting on. She could be in bad shape right now and she wouldn’t want to worry Shea.
Shea, are you still with me?
Nathan’s worried voice cut through the anxiety she felt for her sister. She sucked in a fortifying breath and focused all her attention back on Nathan.
I’m here. Get Swanson up and get moving. We’ve already wasted too much time.
Nathan reached down, pulled Swanson to his feet and half dragged, half carried the other man farther into the trees.
“I can walk,” Swanson ground out. “I have no goddamn idea what went on back there, but I can make it. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Swanson gripped a handgun in one hand and a rifle in the other. He didn’t grimace when he walked and his step had quickened.
Shea breathed a sigh of relief and concentrated on helping Nathan.
They cut a path through a narrow gulch, and in some places it was so narrow that they had to turn sideways to edge through. Rocks cut into Nathan’s feet, but she shielded him from the pain. It was doubtful he even knew that the soles of his feet were dripping blood.
The terrain leveled out when the gulch opened up into a wider valley. The men kept to the edge, moving stealthily through the brush.
Just before they could slip into another dense path of trees, the whine of a bullet reached Shea’s ears and pain exploded through Nathan’s leg.
He stumbled and went down.
Oh God, oh God. He’d been shot.
Without thinking, she used every bit of her flagging strength to draw the pain. Agony pulsed down her thigh and blood seeped into the material of her pants.
She flooded him with hope, determination. She took away the pain, gritting her teeth against the urge to scream out as fire coursed through her veins.
Get up! You’re okay, Nathan. Keep going.
This time it was Swanson who reached down and pulled Nathan to his feet.
Shea. Thank you.
She closed her eyes as she began the slow slide into oblivion. She had to hold on. She had to keep him strong. She couldn’t falter. Not now. She’d made him a promise not to leave him until he was safe. She wouldn’t fail.
They charged into the wooded area and then both men took cover behind a tree as they pulled out their guns.
Shea sensed Nathan’s grim determination that they wouldn’t take him alive under any circumstances. He would die fighting them and take as many of the bastards with him as he could.
Blood ran more freely down her leg and the pain had become unbearable. She was further weakened by the fact that not only was she shouldering his pain, but she was also shielding him from picking up on her agony.
Her head pounded. Nausea rose in her throat and the walls of her hotel room spun in rapid circles.
Shea, my God. You have to stop this.
Get the hell away from me, Grace. You’re distracting me.
At once warmth and strength