Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)(41)

Beck released my face then, and I managed to start breathing normally again. His touch was lethal.

“Eight?” I couldn’t really wrap my mind around what they were saying. Their world was so foreign to the one I grew up in.

Beck froze then, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d said something to piss him off again, but when his head snapped to the side of the forest where we were, I knew it was nothing to do with me.

“Incoming,” he said softly.

“Incoming?” I repeated, feeling like the dumbest person in the forest. “What’s incoming?”

“Shhh.” Evan appeared beside me and covered my mouth with his hand. His attention wasn’t on me, though. It was glued to Beck, who had his head cocked slightly to the side like a wolf listening for hunters... or prey.

Beck’s sharp gaze jerked to his friends and he gave them a few short hand gestures before they all burst into action. Dylan hoisted Jasper over his shoulder and quickly deposited the injured boy into the makeshift shelter while Evan disappeared into the trees like a fucking shadow. In less than a second, he was just gone. Beck hesitated only a moment longer, staring at me with a totally unreadable expression. When he turned to leave, someone burst out of the trees and without a second thought, Beck raised one of his guns and shot the newcomer clean in the head. The gunshot cracked through the still night air, echoing and reverberating off the hills like some sort of fucked up foreshadowing.

I gasped, then clapped a hand over my own mouth as Beck fired another shot into the person’s body. He didn’t even glance back as he made like Evan and faded into the shadows.

Survivalists. I was starting to get a much clearer picture now. They literally would do anything to survive, and they had the training to back it up.

Sweet baby Jesus.

“Get in the shelter,” Dylan whispered in my ear, and I flinched at his nearness. How did he just move so silently? “Jasper is defenseless; I need you to stay with him.”

Something told me that was a pretty way of Dylan telling me to get the fuck out of the way, but I wasn’t arguing. Not by a long shot. Doing as I was told, I scurried into the shelter and watched with wide eyes as Dylan covered the whole thing with fallen leaves and tree branches. Just before he blocked our entrance, he crouched down and pulled a deadly looking knife from his boot.

“Here, take this,” he said softly, handing me the weapon. “From now on, you’re never to be unarmed. Understood?”

Stunned, and clutching the heavy knife in shaking hands, I just nodded.

“Stay silent, no matter what.” Dylan gave me a long, serious look, then shot a pointed one at Jasper. My injured companion gave a small, pain filled salute, but Dylan was already covering our opening and disappearing into the shadows.

For a long, tense moment, Jasper and I sat there. Neither of us spoke, and I barely breathed. The knife was still clutched between the cold and trembling fingers on my unbroken hand, and Jasper had sweat beading on his forehead.

“Jasper,” I started to whisper, placing my knife down in the frosted dirt, but he gave me a sharp head shake. It was clear he was telling me to shut up, but there was a pool of blood growing on the snow dusted ground beneath him. “Jasper,” I tried again, this time placing my lips against his ear and just barely breathing the words. “You’re bleeding. Lie down.”

I pulled back just enough to catch his brow rise in surprise. He did what I said, which worried me even more. It took longer than I’d have liked, but eventually he shifted until he was flat on his back—and all without making noise. It was fucking impressive.

The extent of my medical knowledge came from watching Grey’s Anatomy a million years ago, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Instead, I carefully peeled his sweater up and found a deep puncture wound just above his hip. Like something had stabbed him and then been pulled free.

The blood was...

I faltered, swallowing past a lump in my throat and taking a few deep breaths. Jasper tried to pull his top back down—silently telling me not to worry—but I was determined. Dylan had asked me to take care of Jasper, and what had Beck said? No man left behind?

Gritting my teeth against the cold, I whipped my coat off, then pulled my tank top over my head. Jasper’s lips parted in confused shock, but I ignored him as I put my jacket back on and zipped it up over my bra. The bulky outer garment would have been no use as a compress—any idiot could have known that—but my soft cotton tank would work. Folding it up into a pad, I gently placed it over Jasper’s wound.

I hesitated—again—but then pressed down firmly. He needed pressure on the wound or he’d bleed to death out here in the middle of butt-fuck-nowhere. Jasper grimaced, but gave me a small nod and placed his hand over mine. Encouraging me.

A sound nearby made me jump, and I whipped my head around to see what it was. Dylan had left small cracks of visibility between tree branches, and I used my free hand to reach up with the intention of widening one gap.

Jasper’s hand tightened on mine, and he shook his head. Clearly, he meant, don’t be an idiot, there’s someone out there and we’re supposed to be hiding. But I knew how to be careful.

Ignoring him, I slowly wiggled my finger into a gap and slid the leaves and twigs aside. Just the tiniest bit. Just enough that I could peer out and see what was happening.

Nothing. The clearing we’d been in was totally empty.