Whispers in the Dark - Maya Banks [7]
It sucked to have to live this way, but the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
She shoved out of the door, ran for her car and threw her bag inside. She jammed the key into the ignition, started the engine and then roared out of the drive.
As she pulled onto the street, she glanced in her rearview mirror. Fear slid up her spine and around her neck until it had a stranglehold on her.
The sedan she’d seen on her run was pulling up the street just past her house.
It was pointless to try and play it cool. As if they hadn’t seen her. She blew the stop sign at the end of the street and hauled ass.
SHEA was somewhere in Colorado, her eyes peeled for a place to stop for the night, when she was seized by unimaginable pain. Her entire body went rigid, her vision blurred and her mouth went horribly dry. She was too exhausted from days spent on the road with little to no sleep to fight off the onslaught of her soldier’s suffering.
She barely managed to pull to the side of the road before another wave of agony bit through her flesh and burned her from the inside out.
Oh no. No.
She leaned forward, resting her forehead on the steering wheel as she battled for control. Then she reached for him, sliding into his mind and body. She hadn’t meant to leave him alone for so long. Guilt flooded her. The last days had been spent running and looking over her shoulder until she was sure she’d shaken her pursuers.
I’m here. Be strong. Please be strong. Don’t let them defeat
you.
She could feel the tears on his face. Felt the helpless wave of despair that hit her so strongly it knocked her back against the seat. She forced herself to see through his eyes and then gasped her horror, tears squeezing her own eyes.
Another man knelt in front of her soldier. He’d been removed from the tiny, dark hole they kept him in. When they hadn’t been successful in gaining what they wanted from her soldier, they’d dragged another man into the room and forced him to his knees so that he had no choice but to look at him.
Shea closed her eyes to the atrocities committed. But it was no use. She saw through her soldier’s eyes. Felt everything he felt. Knew what he knew.
Rage built. Horror. Fear. Loathing. Pain.
He wanted to kill them. For a moment he considered giving in, but he knew it wouldn’t alter the fate of the other captive. These were animals with no honor.
And then a single gunshot rang out, echoing first through the soldier’s mind and then bleeding into Shea’s consciousness. She blinked and stared glassy-eyed through the windshield as she watched the other captive fall forward to the floor, blood streaming from his head.
Grief welled, though she wasn’t sure if it was her own or her soldier’s. There was self-condemnation and guilt. He considered that the other captive was better off because he at least wasn’t suffering any longer.
Why were they keeping him alive? Why didn’t they just kill him and end it all?
His emotions bombarded her, a mixture of determination to survive and the desire to be free of his pain. He hated that he was so weak, and self-loathing was sharp and bitter in his mind.
It wasn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself for his death. Turn your hatred to the animals who deserve it. Not yourself.
Who are you?
The demand was strong. He was still in the grip of a terrible rage. It consumed him, even more so than his pain. She could feel it sizzling through his veins and into hers. It was white, nearly electric and blinding in its intensity.
Someone who wants to help you.
How can you possibly help me?
The weary question slipped into her mind. She knew he expected no answer. He didn’t even think she was real.
She went completely still when he was suddenly hauled to his feet and roughly dragged from the room where the dead man lay. It was silly. They couldn’t detect her. And yet she was afraid to move, afraid that anything she did might make the soldier react and draw more abuse from his captors.
When he was thrust back into his cell, he hit the floor hard and then