Darkest Before Dawn (KGI #10)(26)

She bit into her lip to quell the sound of pain as her knee protested the vigorous motion it was unused to. It was silly, but she didn’t want to show weakness in front of this warrior. And he clearly was a warrior. She wanted to show only strength, give him no reason to fault her, and she’d be damned if she’d slow him down.

Again his teeth flashed, but in no way was it in a smile. Quite frankly, he scared her every time he did it. He reminded her too much of the big bad wolf about to devour Little Red Riding Hood, only in Honor’s case, she’d been wandering through the desert, not the forest, and there were no wolves here. But there were plenty of demons. Spawns of Satan himself. Evil ran strong here, stained with the blood of the innocents.

“It’s a little late to be asking me for ID now,” he said mildly.

He arrived at a military-looking vehicle and for the first time her blood pulsed wildly with excitement. It looked American, and while that might sound like a stupid thought from a clueless civilian, she’d worked throughout this region for a good while and she’d come into contact with all manner of military equipment and vehicles. She’d quickly learned to recognize friend or foe by subtle things maybe others wouldn’t notice. But when your life depended on knowing, and assuming would get you killed faster than a stray bullet in a fight zone, you tended to fast become an expert on learning the differences between those who would kill you and those who would save you.

He all but shoved her into the back and slid in beside her, slamming his door closed while she struggled to right herself from where her head had plunged toward the floorboard and the heavy material covered her and twisted around her, preventing her from gracefully extricating herself. Then the vehicle lurched into motion, flattening her once more. Frustrated and angry with the lack of care her “rescuer” had offered thus far, she planted her hands on the floorboard and attempted to push herself upward and out of the tangle of material effectively trapping her legs and obscuring her vision.

To her shock, he planted a firm hand in the middle of her back and shoved her even farther down onto the floor. Another man already seated in the back of the utility vehicle pushed her head underneath his legs, but he used care that the first man forwent.

When she would have protested, a hand circled her nape and fingers tightened around the slim column of her neck in warning. And though she’d been acquainted with the man who’d intercepted her in the village for merely a few minutes, she knew it was his hand on her neck, not that of the second who’d helped pushed her to the floorboard.

He squeezed once more and then, in direct contradiction to the brute strength of his grasp and seeming disregard for whether he hurt or scared her, he rubbed his thumb up and down the line just below her ear in a soothing manner, even as his grip remained tight.

“Do not move,” the man ordered.

Material similar to the aid blankets they stocked at the relief center fell over her, blocking the light and encasing her in darkness. But it was too heavy to be one of the simple blankets handed out in relief packets. This was more of a utility blanket, or canvas perhaps. It was hard to make out the feel and texture when she was already swathed in a pool of her own garment.

The heat was suffocating. Sweat moistened the roots of her hair and bathed her forehead. It felt as though she were slowly baking in an oven. Even the air she inhaled was scorching, made stuffy by the heavy blankets covering her, giving her little space to breathe.

Her mind was ablaze with confusion. Had she merely traded one form of hell for another? Made a bargain for her life when both outcomes would result in her death?

The vehicle moved far too fast over the bumpy terrain, and Honor felt every single one of those bumps. The hand still wrapped around her nape remained firm though the American’s thumb continued its idle, soothing, up-and-down motion. So she focused on that one simple comfort when she’d been denied comfort for so long and blocked out the battering her already bruised and sore body was taking.

She sensed the decreased speed the moment the vehicle slowed and she went rigid, holding her breath, knowing they hadn’t gone far. Were they being stopped? He’d very arrogantly stated that he planned to drive right by the roadblocks, and something in his voice had given her faith that he’d be able to do just that.

Very real fear took hold, paralyzing her. She didn’t realize that she had begun shaking and still hadn’t drawn a breath until the grip around her neck loosened and his fingers stroked through her hair beneath the layers of material covering her.

“Hold it together, Honor,” he said.

For the first time she heard gentleness in his voice, felt it in his touch. It made her want to break down and sob. So maybe she needed him to be a ruthless *. As long as she stayed pissed, she remained focused and didn’t risk falling apart at the seams.

“I need you to calm yourself.” This time his voice was more authoritative, all hints of gentleness gone. “You’re shaking like a leaf and the blankets are jumping around like they cover a litter of squirming puppies.”

Her chest burned and she latched on to his command, willing herself to obey.

“Breathe,” he said harshly. “Goddamn it, breathe or pass out. But pull yourself together. You aren’t out of the woods yet, and now is not the time to let yourself go.”

Honor heard other muttered curses, and she could swear she heard someone say, “Bad mojo.” Maybe she was finally losing her weakening grip on her sanity.