Into the Mist (Falcon Mercenary Group #1)(69)

Through more vents he floated until finally he heard voices. He moved silent as a whisper down into the room. Tyana lay on the floor, her leg bent at an odd angle, one arm bloodied, the other carelessly thrown aside. Her eyes were open but glassy and fixed on some distant object.

Four men stood to the side arguing. Eli did a quick survey of the room. A lone assault rifle, one the men had laid against the wall, was a few feet away. He would have to be fast. Shift and shoot.

Ignoring the rage that consumed him, and the worry over Tyana’s so-still form, he wrapped around the rifle, a single thin plume of smoke.

With a jolt, he commanded himself back to form, holding the image of the transmitter in his mind. Screw the clothes. If they came, they came, but he needed that transmitter.

His hands gripped the gun just as the shocked stares of the men found him. He laid down a round of fire into their midst. Three fell while the fourth rolled away. He came up firing.

Heat singed Eli’s arm, but he ignored it and pumped three rounds into the fourth man’s chest. He sagged like a deflated balloon.

“Damiano, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I read you. What the f**k is going on in there?”

“I’m with Tyana. I’ve taken a hit. It’s not bad. I need cover getting out of here.”

“Is Tyana alive?” Damiano demanded.

Eli knelt, afraid to touch his fingers to her neck. He felt the faintest flutter, slow and unsteady. “She’s alive. For now. But fading fast. Get a chopper in here as fast as you can. She needs to get to the hospital yesterday.”

He quickly relayed the information on his location to Damiano, and then he gathered Tyana in his arms. He hoisted her up, and she sagged limply, her head dangling over his injured arm.

He adjusted his hold on her so that her head sagged against his chest instead, and he rested his chin on top to keep her in place.

God, there was so much blood.

“Don’t die,” he whispered. “Don’t die, Tyana. Not for me.”

* * *

Ian and Braden gained more strength as determination fueled their movements. Whatever the reason for Tyana saving them, she had, and they wouldn’t let her go down for that.

They sprinted down the hallways, glancing right and left, looking for any movement, any sign of blood. As they rounded one of the corridors, Ian stopped cold. Braden collided with him, nearly knocking him off balance.

Esteban stood in their path holding an assault rifle trained on Ian. Rage billowed over Ian, lighting fire to every one of his nerve endings. This was the f**ker responsible for his and Braden’s condition. The bastard had kept them caged, taunting them endlessly until they’d shifted. There was no telling what he’d done to them while they were in shifted form. It was probably a blessing that they had no memory of being cats.

“You’ll never live,” Ian taunted.

Esteban smiled, an eerie, empty expression that suggested he wasn’t all there. There was a bloody gash on his neck that looked remarkably like it had been inflicted with claws. It wasn’t a new wound. The blood had congealed and dried, dark red, on his skin.

“Which one of us got you, Esteban?” Ian asked. “Looks like you pissed the cat off one too many times.”

“I don’t need you,” Esteban spat. “It’s never been about you. You’re both expendable.” He raised his gun. Braden shouldered his rifle in response and Ian gripped his tighter.

“Which is it going to be?” Ian asked quietly. “You don’t have to die. Put the gun down.”

Esteban laughed. “Nice try. You won’t get any information from me.”

He fired the rifle, and Ian jerked, expecting the pain to lash over him. To his horror, Gabe’s body materialized in front of him, his face a mask of agony. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he stared into Ian’s eyes. Like a puppet being cut free of his strings, Gabe sagged to the floor.

“No!” Esteban screamed. “What have you done? You stupid fool! You were stable.”

Esteban fired his weapon again as he began to run. The shot went wild as Esteban dove into one of the rooms.

Ian didn’t even bother pursuing him. His attention was focused on Gabe’s fallen body. He sank to his knees and pressed his hands over the gaping wound in Gabe’s chest. Braden hit the floor beside him. “Ian. Braden.” It came out as a trickle, as if the names barely managed to escape.

Shit. Shit! They were stuck in here with no means of communication. Panic settled hard into Ian’s stomach as more blood ran through his fingers.

“Don’t talk, man. We’ll get you out of here,” Braden said.

“No. Listen to me. I have to tell you something. I need you to listen closely.”

Gabe’s hands curled into Ian’s shirt, and he pulled him nearer with flagging strength.

“Tyana didn’t betray us. I did.”

“What?” Ian demanded. “Gabe, you’re not making any sense. Shut up and let us get you out.”

Gabe shook his head and moaned. He coughed and more blood spilled over his lips.

“I have a sister. Katie. On my laptop. Information about her. What you’ll need to find her. They threatened her.”

“Sister?” Ian exchanged confused glances with his brother. Gabe didn’t have a sister. None of them had family. It was a prerequisite to join the team when they were still in the military.