Uncharted

by Adriana Anders

  “I saw that plane go down.”

  Her eyes got huge, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Seems to be my thing recently. Watching helplessly as planes crash.”

  “What happened? Why did they crash?”

  “Squall hit ’em. You know they call this place the Alaskan Bermuda Triangle, right?” At her nod, he went on. “I was too late.”

  “Were you going to notify the authorities of their location or…”

  “Planned to after the thaw.”

  She nodded. “I guess we’ll figure out a way to deal with that when we get out of here. We need to get those bodies back to their families.” She polished off her bar and stared at the ground for a few seconds, then turned to look at him. “I didn’t sleep at all my last night in Schink’s Station. I felt like absolute crap, but you know, the moment I opened my door to see Old Amka standing there, demanding I fly to you, everything pretty much changed.”

  “Yeah. For the worse.”

  When she didn’t immediately respond, he glanced up, a little uncomfortable to find her eyes on him, her brow wrinkled. “No. No, Elias, I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Change for the better?”

  “In a weird way, yeah.” Her hands stayed busy, nimbly folding up the wrapper, sticking it into the trash pocket in his pack—he didn’t comment on how she knew which one it was. At this point, it wasn’t even his pack anymore. It was theirs.

  She checked to see if their coats were dry, sat back, and tapped out a rhythm on her knees. Catching his eyes on her, she stopped abruptly. “Don’t do too well with…idleness.”

  “On the run, stitches in your head, a probable concussion, and you’re bored.”

  “Not bored… Antsy.” Her shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug that managed, even in multiple layers of oversized clothing, to look elegant.

  A series of images flashed through him rife with desire or yearning. First, her collarbones. Were they gently curved or sharp? Did they protrude or were they camouflaged under a layer of her flesh? Not her breasts or the place between her thighs. A freaking bone. The next image was almost worse—it was her across a table from him, eating a meal. Spaghetti or something. Drinking wine. Smiling, enjoying herself. The need to be there hit him as hard as a blow to the chest, but the last image was the worst. It was the two of them, walking hand in hand. Her fingers entwined with his, warm and strong, his hold on her solid, sure.

  Shit, he’d lost it entirely. Not good. He had to keep it together to get them out of this alive.

  Clearing his throat, he got up, grabbed the sleeping bag he’d been sitting on, and shoved it into the pack, avoiding her entirely.

  “Should split up.” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Two targets are harder to locate.”

  “Elias.”

  “You go southeast, head to Canada, to safety.”

  “Elias.”

  “I’ll create a diversion so they—”

  “Dude! Do I stink or something?”

  “No.” Most definitely not.

  “Why are you trying to get rid of me?”

  He didn’t respond or look at her. He couldn’t. Her company was too much. Too close. Too personal. He was thinking things he had no right to think, fantasizing in a way that he shouldn’t. He needed space. “Not trying to—”

  “You’re not alone anymore, Elias. Don’t you get that? I believe you. I know you’re not the man the world thinks you are. You can talk to me. You can trust me. If we could just reach out to my team, Ans and Von would turn around and come right back here.”

  He thought her first touch was an accident—like their knees brushing down below. But when she didn’t let go of his arm, he had to admit it was purposeful. He shook it off and turned, only there she was again, looking up at him like she gave a shit. “Elias.”

  He shut his eyes against that name. Nobody called him that anymore. Nobody called him anything, unless he counted Bo’s feed me bark.

  “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m with you. I won’t let you fight this on your own anymore.”

  She drew close, sending every cell in his body on high alert. Would she kiss him this time? Melt him down until he was just another puddle in this soggy place? He didn’t have the courage to turn away. Didn’t want to.

  “We’re on the same team, Elias.” One of her arms curved around his back, slowly securing him. The other did the same, drawing him in and down. He was nothing but flesh now, a bundle of nerves and a heavy mass of want, ready for another life-giving shock from her lightning-bolt lips.

  Only she didn’t do it. She did something so much better. So much worse.

  She said his name again, reminding him that it really was his. And she hugged him, tighter than he’d have thought possible.

  Standing there in the damp, noisy forest, Elias Thorne came closer than he ever had to crumbling.

  Chapter 23

  Aw, hell.

  She hadn’t meant to hug this guy. Just like with the kiss, she had only intended to bolster him, buck him up with some reassurance that he wasn’t alone. A friendly smack on the back. A wink, maybe.

  Not this close, warm, solid thing; a connection that was more basic than anything she’d ever felt. Not like that belly nuzzle, with its million complications. This felt like she knew him on a cellular level. Like they’d found each other, two parts of a whole, puzzle pieces coming together when they’d been kept too long apart.

  He bent his legs and dipped his head, bringing his mouth to her ear—no, just below it—where he burrowed in, nose pushing aside cloth, breath heating her skin…and held her.

  Who’s hugging who now?

  Who needed it most?

  She might have instigated this, but she hadn’t bargained on the…power couldn’t be the right word, could it? The power of holding, being held, hugging, sharing.

  “A lot,” he whispered, though she wasn’t sure she caught the right words.

  She opened her mouth, prepared to go, take a step back, give an awkward wave, pack up, leave. Crap, maybe they should each go their own way. Whatever was going on here was too complicated. She sucked in a breath to say so, but he broke through it.

  “You’re a lot.”

  Was that an insult? “A lot of what?”

  His exhale heated her face, sent shivers to nerve endings, made her nipples ache. “A lot for a man who’s had nothing for so long.”

  Oh hell.

  She should step back and give him room.

  Instead, she tightened her hold, gave him her weight, and took as much of his as she could.

  “You think I’m a lot, Elias Thorne?” Her fingers spread wide, encompassing more of his broad back. He was huge, football-player massive. Rough and weathered and hard as stone.

  But hell if she didn’t want to hold him tighter, hide him like he was precious, keep him from all the bad stuff the world had thrown his way.

  She’d have stayed like that forever if he hadn’t finally released a shaky breath and disengaged himself from her embrace. Still close, but not touching.

  “Thanks.” The word was more growl than language. “Needed that.”

  “Are you with me, then?” She finally caught his eye. “Promise I won’t wake up in the morning to find you gone?”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you. Wouldn’t just disappear.”

  “But you’d rather be alone.”

  “Rather be alone? No, Leo. I’d rather save your ass, though.”

  “How about we save your fine ass, too, while we’re at it?” she whispered, her fingers lifting to touch him again, then falling without having dared. Funny, given what a daredevil she usually was.

  “Fine?” His eyebrows flew so high, they almost melded with his hair.

  Pressing her lips together on a smile, she shook her head. And then, because she’d do
something stupid if they didn’t leave soon, she took a step back, breathed in something other than him, took another, and another, until finally she tore herself away.

  ***

  The wet, muddy terrain kept them from speaking again, which was good. Better than talking about whatever the hell was happening between them.

  Though it didn’t stop Elias from thinking about it.

  Obsessing, Karen had called it, back when they’d been together. Before she’d turned her back on him, joined in the world’s accusations.

  Traitor. Murderer. Child killer.

  He’d become a pariah once they’d gotten him in their sights. Worse than that—they’d painted him as something evil, turned his life inside out, stripped away his family’s privacy, made everything he’d ever accomplished out to be part of some sinister plot.

  They’d destroyed his relationships, cut his bonds, worn away any trust he’d managed to forge.

  Once they’d done that, really isolated him, without anywhere to turn but home, they’d killed his parents.

  And blamed it on him.

  His jaw hardened, teeth clamped together, working to maintain his inner calm.

  You’re obsessing again, E, Karen used to sing. It’s just a case. Can’t you leave work at work and hang out with me?

  I am hanging out.

  You’re at home. I guess I should be grateful for that. She’d turn, miffed, flipping her hair before stomping off to grab her purse. Too bad you’re not spending any time with me.

  Look, I’m almost done.

  Right. Uh-huh. She’d slam the door, get in her car, drive off someplace. Even now, he didn’t know where she used to go when she was pissed.

  “How far is it to Schink’s Station?” Leo’s voice startled him and his foot skidded off to the side before he righted himself.

  “Huh?” His brain was vague and tired of battling memories he’d worked hard to eradicate. He focused on the landscape.

  “How far?”

  He grimaced at the mountains ahead. “’bout seventy miles, maybe eighty, as the crow flies.”

  “Okay.” Seemingly unfazed, Leo took a long pull at her water, swallowing several times before she came up to breathe. His attention snagged on the beads clinging to her lips. It was a relief when she wiped them away. “How long, then, since I’m guessing you’ve not got a jet pack hidden out here someplace.” She threw him a side-eye. “Even if you are Mr. Prepared to within an inch of his life.”

  “Six days, if we’re lucky and the weather holds. Maybe seven.”

  “Too bad you don’t have a phone we can use. We could call my team in. Be out of here in no time.”

  “I don’t.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “How long’s it take you on your own?”

  “From here?” He shrugged. “Four.”

  “Then we’ll do it in four.”

  “Ground’s tricky right now. Never hiked it this close to breakup. Snowmelt’s a mess…” He eyed the earth warily, unhappy with the sign they left behind with every step, then allowed himself another quick glance at Leo. She looked like crap. No, that was a lie. She looked freaking magnificent. Just tired; sunken in or something, like already she’d lost muscle mass from this trek. “We’re a mess.”

  “Four to six days, then. A lot can happen in six days.”

  Another a series of sensory images blasted through him—experiences, feelings, flashes of emotion.

  Six days.

  It had taken less than six days for them to destroy his life.

  Less than six days for his fiancée to leave him.

  Six days to become America’s most wanted.

  Six days for them to kill him off.

  Or so they thought.

  “Hey. You okay?” He shivered when she touched him, his mind switching to a different kind of countdown, in which six days wasn’t nearly enough time. Only six more days with Leo, whose presence had completely upended his existence. He’d found inner calm before she’d arrived. He’d been fine alone. And here she’d come and made it not enough. Made him not enough.

  “Come on.” He trudged on, used a young alder to pull himself up a low rise, turned to offer his hand, but she was already beside him, already pushing forward, leaving him with nothing but a quick flash of her eyes, crinkled at the corners. His gaze dropped to take in the sway of her ass.

  Only six days before Leo left and he went back to being alone.

  He stumbled, righted himself. Stumbled again. “Dammit!”

  “What? What is it?” She was so much smaller than him, but didn’t hesitate to come in close, invading his space with her concerned eyes. “Elias, what’s…” She looked him up and down, stepped back, and made an angry noise. “You’re bleeding again. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine, dummy.”

  “It’s just a scratch,” he tried to say, but it came out as one garbled syllable.

  Ignoring him, she drew close, lifted his shirt, bent, and for a few suspended seconds, he waited for her lips, that strange, warm brand that gave him hope he had no right to wish for.

  No. No more wishing. No more hoping or daydreaming about possibilities that flat-out didn’t exist. They were companions for a few days and then she was gone. He’d leave, too, for some new place where he could settle in and reestablish his inner calm.

  “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

  “What? Big man’s gonna keep walking until he bleeds out? Big man’s gonna fall and break something, get back up, and trudge on.” Was she pissed? “I don’t need you to save me, big man. What I need is for you to survive this. And while we’re at it, how about you stop stalling and start telling me exactly why you’re here, on your own in the middle of nowhere. I mean, what the hell’s going on, Elias?”

  “I tried to—”

  “Sit.” She put a hand on his shoulder and shoved with surprising strength. No. Not surprising. He knew she was strong.

  Suddenly, it was easier to obey than to fight. He wasn’t hurting, but maybe that wasn’t actually a good thing. He obeyed, blinking when she disappeared for a second. “’s fine, Leo. I…I—”

  “Thought you’d power through even though you’re leaking blood again like a damn sieve. You know the problem with big men like you? You think you’ve got all the answers. Think you’ve got to do it on your own. Won’t take help from others, ’cause you have this ridiculous notion that it’ll diminish you. Maybe you people think your balls are… Shit, Elias.” She squatted, bent close to him, and put pressure on his wound.

  Ah, there it was. Pain. He could do nothing but grunt.

  “You know what you jerks always seem to forget?” She kept one hand on him and tore at the zipper of the bloodstained first aid kit with the other. “The bigger you are…” She was breathing hard, working fast. “The harder you fall.”

  Jesus, wasn’t that the truth.

  ***

  Turned out, a tranquilizer dart to the nuts was just as effective as a bullet.

  The man was in a bad way. Especially after Amka got him with the bear spray too. She almost felt sorry for him.

  Or she would have if she hadn’t watched through binoculars as they shot someone up at the lodge—Dani Avens, who cleaned and did laundry for the guests. She’d never done anything to anyone.

  And now they’d gone and shot her.

  As Amka watched the lodge through Ben’s binoculars, a wave of panic shook her hands so hard, she couldn’t see a thing.

  What if she didn’t stop them in time? What if this ruckus she was raising was for nothing and everyone she loved got killed?

  What if she was making it worse?

  No. She refused to think that. These people were merciless. She’d seen what they’d done to Elias, to his parents. She couldn’t just go in th
ere guns blazing. They’d shoot her dead on the spot.

  They’d demolish this entire town if they thought it would get them what they wanted. Or maybe even to cover up what happened here. Hell, what was a tiny settlement with a population under sixty to people like that?

  Nothing was the answer.

  And what was happening to Elias? Had they gotten him? Were they flying back right this minute with him and Leo in the chopper? Or a couple of dead bodies?

  She sagged against the door of the beat-up Ford F-150 that offered the best view of the lodge.

  Then it occurred to her—if they came back soon, maybe she could do something.

  She scooted to the end of her lookout rock and dropped to the ground, careful not to jar her artificial hip.

  Before starting off, she checked her holsters and pockets. Bear spray, tranq gun, skinning knife, pistol. Slung over top were the binoculars and rifle, just in case.

  In her ear, the voices weren’t speaking anymore, which made her think they were onto her now. Too bad. It’d been fun listening in on their official-sounding jargon.

  As she made her slow, careful way down the rocky path from the overlook past Ben’s, in the direction of the airfield, she mentally counted out the enemies. Three down. Eleven to go.

  She was getting the hang of this.

  Chapter 24

  He blinked up at the treetops silhouetted against the pale gray sky, like some intricate lace woven by Mother Nature herself. One of a kind. The wind shifted it, changed the pattern, drew dry sounds from the pine needles, rubbed branches together, scratching and clacking like brittle bones. Winter’s wind chimes.

  He focused back in on Leo, who shook her head, muttering to herself—maybe to him, though he couldn’t quite catch individual words. He smiled. He got the meaning well enough. Whatever she was saying was punctuated by tsking sounds that he liked. All he could see was the top of her hood. He reached up and pushed it back to get a better look. Or to hear her better. Both.