Into the Lair (Falcon Mercenary Group #2)(38)

Her head was about to explode with confusion.

Braden loomed over her, his expression grim. “Stay your ass down. You trying to open up your wound again? You’ve already bled like a stuck pig.”

When she didn’t immediately respond, his expression tightened, and his eyes glittered with challenge. He pulled a syringe out of his pocket and held it where she could see it.

“You’ve got two choices, sister. You can stay down or I can knock your ass out. Makes no difference to me, and quite frankly, you’re less of a pain in my ass when you’re out cold.”

She forced herself to relax, and slowly he took his hand off her body and stood to his full height.

“Where are we?” she asked, her voice cracking. God, she was thirsty. And so damn hungry her stomach was going to start eating itself.

“We’re landing in Austria in about an hour and a half,” he said.

“Austria? What the f**k?” She started to raise her head, but he gave her a warning look and hovered menacingly.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t our first choice either,” Braden muttered.

“How is she?” Ian asked as he shoved his way past Braden.

Katie stared at him and shrank back against the seat. How could he look so normal? Had what happened been the product of her twisted mind? Had she finally lost her grip?

Ian’s eyes flashed and then he spun around and stalked out of her vision.

“You deal with her,” he tossed back to Braden. “Apparently she’s not afraid of you.”

“Bullshit,” Katie refuted.

Braden raised an eyebrow. “What the hell did I do?”

“So what’s your little trick?” she demanded. “Lion? Wolf? Hyena?”

“Very funny,” he growled.

“I wasn’t joking,” she said, her voice deadly quiet. “What the f**k are you? All that bullshit about a seizure disorder. Is that a codeword for turning into wild animals?”

Again his eyebrow went up and his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Seizures?” He turned in the direction Ian had walked. “You know anything about seizures, Ian?”

Ian muttered something unintelligible.

“Can I get up?” she asked. “I don’t like lying down where I can’t see. I want to be able to defend myself if the need arises.”

Braden’s gaze narrowed. “Defend yourself from who?”

“You,” she said evenly.

He shrugged and bent down to help her up. “We can eat you sitting up just as well as lying down.”

She went to slug him, but he caught her fist in his firm grip. He stared levelly at her. “You’re starting to get predictable.”

He picked her up, and even though he was extremely gentle, she let out a low moan.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he set her in one of the larger chairs independent of the couch.

She sucked in several breaths and waited for the fire to subside in her gut. She glanced down to see that all the blood was gone, she was wearing a fresh T-shirt way too large for her, and she was still barefooted. For some reason that amused her.

When she let out a shaky laugh, Braden shot her a concerned look.

“What’s so funny?”

“My feet.”

“Your feet?”

“Yeah. No shoes. I’ve run across God knows how many states with no shoes.”

She said it almost mournfully which was stupid. To be hung up on shoes when she was damn lucky to be alive at this point was absurd.

“We’ll get you shoes when we land,” Braden said gruffly. “You need to rest.”

“I’m starving,” she said. “And thirsty. I’d kill for about a gallon of water.”

He froze for a moment, and then he let out a rush of scorching expletives. Then he turned. “Hey Ian, do we have anything to eat on this damn thing? Katie still hasn’t eaten. Hell, I haven’t eaten.”

Ian reappeared a few moments later with a handful of snacks and some bottled water. “Sorry,” he said as he thrust them at her. “It’s all we’ve got.”

She latched onto them gratefully. First she ripped off the top to one of the water bottles and slugged the liquid down like an alcoholic falling off the wagon.

“Slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Braden said gently.

She managed to slow herself just as she drained the last of the first bottle. Then she turned her attention to the array of food she’d dropped on her lap. There was a box of crackers, a bag of chips, a couple of cereal bars and some sort of fruit shit.

She opened the chips and the crackers then ripped open a cereal bar.

“And she calls us wild animals,” Braden said with an amused snort.

Both Katie and Ian glared at Braden who simply shrugged with a distinct I-don’t-give-a-f*ck air.

As she devoured a cereal bar, she glanced up at Ian who hadn’t yet retreated. She tried to see a glimpse of the jaguar, and then she wondered at the sheer idiocy of her thoughts. People couldn’t change into animals. They just couldn’t.

“Eat first, Katie,” Ian said in a low, stiff voice. “We’ll talk afterward.”

She stopped chewing, frozen as she stared back at him. Finally she nodded and resumed eating.

She polished off the cereal bar, scarfed the bag of chips and ate half the crackers before she even considered slowing down. The other cereal bar she held was tempting even though she felt the urge to puke.