by Maya Banks
Holly huffed at him and shot him a quick glare.
No one spoke for a long moment as they all savored the wonderful-tasting bisque. When they all finished, Holly began dishing up the grilled fish fillets. When she opened the covered bowl containing the étouffée, there were looks of amazement all around.
She carefully ladled the étouffée onto the plates, covering the fillets.
“What the hell did you do to our mother?” Dillon demanded as he forked another bite into his mouth.
The entire table cracked up at his irreverence. Even Holly grinned. “You like?”
“Like? I damn well love,” Dillon said around another mouthful. “Did my wife teach you how to make all this?”
Holly shot a proud glance in Lily’s direction. “She sure did.”
Adam, Ethan, and Ryan all looked over at Lily, and Ethan said in mock reverence, “How can we ever thank you? You’ve performed a miracle. We never thought we’d see the day she didn’t burn the house down after two hours in the kitchen.”
“Oh, shut up,” Holly said in exasperation. “I’m not that bad!”
When silence greeted her defensive statement, she burst into laughter. “Okay, so maybe I was.”
“Everything is wonderful, baby,” Adam said with a smile. “You did an amazing job. This will be a Christmas we’ll never forget for many reasons.”
Holly smiled back at him, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.
“It’s awesome, Mom,” Seth assured her.
One by one, her children and her husbands, Max, and Lauren all chimed in with their compliments until Holly beamed from ear to ear, and really, even if it had been horrible, who would have wanted to wipe away that kind of smile?
It had been a year of many milestones and events, changes and renewals, scares and rejoicings. The next year promised to be even sweeter.
But no matter what else would be recounted from this point forward, this would always be remembered as the year Holly Colter finally managed to conquer the kitchen.
TURN THE PAGE FOR
A SPECIAL PREVIEW OF
ECHOES AT DAWN
THE NEXT KGI NOVEL FROM
MAYA BANKS,
COMING JULY 2012 FROM
BERKLEY SENSATION!
GRACE Peterson drew the blanket tighter around her and huddled in the dark. She stared blankly at the star-filled sky. The mountain air was cold. Not just chilly, as it had been as dusk had descended, wiping away the comfortable remnants of a sunny afternoon. It was frigid.
A low moan escaped as her muscles tightened and protested not only the cold, but the weakness inflicted upon them by so much death and sickness. Pain had long since lost any meaning to her. What she felt couldn’t really be considered pain. It was worse. She couldn’t feel anything but the desolation of hopelessness and despair. The knowledge that she would probably die from the horrors inflicted upon her. And perhaps she deserved it, for she hadn’t been able to help all who had been thrust upon her.
Her escape had been a fluke. An explosion had decimated the cell where she’d been held. She’d managed to get out before the men charged with her care had been able to respond. Or maybe they had perished. She couldn’t bring herself to feel any regret. They’d shown her no regard. She’d been treated like an inanimate object. Some magic wand they waved at a wound or an illness and expected her to make it all disappear.
She hated them for that. Hated them for their callousness. For using others as they’d used her. Pawns. Objects to provide them with information. They weren’t even people. Just numbers.
Another shiver rattled her teeth and settled deep into her bones. She simply couldn’t imagine ever being warm again. She curled her feet further into the blanket and tucked the ends securely under her chin.
She was severely weakened by all she’d been forced to endure. For all she’d been made to heal. Even now she didn’t know where she’d found the strength or the will to make her escape when the opportunity had presented itself.
But now she’d run out of strength. She had nothing else left. No reserves. And her resolve was faltering just as everything else had done.
Closing her eyes, she tried to find some solace. Some measure of peace.
She missed her sister, Shea. Ached for the comfort of her touch. The brush of her mind and the image of her smile. She hadn’t ever really understood and hadn’t ever taken Shea’s decision for them to separate seriously. Until the day she’d been captured, and she realized that if they’d been together, they would have both been taken.
Shea had always been determined to keep Grace safe, but now, Grace was equally determined to keep Shea as far away from her as possible. Grace was hunted. She knew her pursuers were probably in these mountains already. They could be a short distance away.
And so she’d slammed the door shut on her sister, and the void hurt every bit as much as the bombardment of sickness and pain she’d absorbed. Not having Shea there was the worst sort of loneliness. She’d severed the telepathic link between her and her sister, and her worst fear was that it was permanent. She’d never get it back.
In a way, she supposed it would be a blessing. If she lost her abilities, she could have a normal life. But so would she lose the ability to make a difference in someone else’s life.
She closed her eyes, exhausted by the weight of responsibility, sorrow, and regret. She hated that she wasn’t stronger, that she’d crumbled under so much stress. But the ailments had been thrown at her, one after another. Broken bones, horrible bloody wounds, tumors, diseases, and the list went on and on. The most horrific experiment she’d undergone was when it had been demanded of her to reach inside the mind of a woman with a mental illness and heal her.
For three long days Grace had known what it truly was to be insane. She’d lived the woman’s existence while the woman had gone away, cleansed of the darkness in her brain. Twice, Grace had tried to kill herself, not because it was what she wanted, but because it was what the illness dictated. In the end, she’d been restrained, unable to do even the basic necessities for herself because the fear had been too great that she’d find a way to end her life.
She was hungry, but the thought of food made her stomach twist into knots. She drank water from nearby streams frequently, because she knew she had to do something to keep her strength up. And no matter that she bore the knowledge that she would likely die, she couldn’t bring herself to simply give up. Not yet.
Quietly, she turned over, rearranging the blanket in the fruitless hope she’d somehow find greater warmth. Eventually she’d have to reach out to her sister, but if she did so now, Shea would see the horrific shape Grace was in. Shea would come. She’d put herself in grave danger. Grace would never be able to live with herself if Shea was sacrificed because in a moment of weakness Grace gave in and tried to re-establish the link with her sister.
Silent tears slid down Grace’s cheeks, briefly warming her skin until the chilly air turned them to ice. She angrily scrubbed them away and hunched lower, furious with herself for allowing despair to control her.
She was stronger than this, and she’d be strong again. She just needed time to recover from her ordeal. Maybe she’d never be the same as she was, but she wasn’t going to give in. If she died, she’d die running. She’d die standing up and fighting. She refused to die in some laboratory where rats were treated with less disdain.
A distant sound froze her to the bone. She went so still that even her breath sounded like a roar in the night. She pushed the blanket over her mouth, trying to quell the noise, and she stared into the trees, trying desperately to see through the thick curtain of night.
Someone was coming.
THEY crawled through the mountains under the cover of dark. Rio knew they were close. They’d been closing in on Grace for days now, but somehow she’d managed to elude them just when he was sure they’d come upon her.
He trilled a soft bird call, and several yards away, an answering call returned. He adjusted his pack,
slipped on the infrared goggles and scanned the area ahead, looking for anything giving off a heat signal.
There were several smaller forms. Animals. Even a larger shape that must have been an elk or a deer. Nothing that resembled a human, though.
He’d given orders for strict radio silence. They weren’t the only ones who sought Grace. But he was determined to get to her first. His gut told him they needed to catch up to her before dawn. The hairs on his nape rose and apprehension slipped down his spine. It wasn’t that he feared confrontation. In truth, he’d savor killing the bastards who’d made Grace and Shea’s life hell over the last year.
It was the knowledge that she was in danger and that he and his men needed to end this game of cat and mouse.
Beside him, Terrence, his right hand, melted into the dark just a few feet away. Rio continued a path further up the mountain. There were any number of nooks and crannies a small woman could hide and so he carefully scanned the area, looking for any heat source.
Where are you, Grace? I know you’re here. I can feel you.
And it was true. There was a distinct prickle, the same awareness he’d experienced the first time he’d seen her on the surveillance footage. The last time anyone had seen her before she’d disappeared.
He’d known beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would be the one to go after her and bring her back to her sister. Safe and alive.
Since that time, he’d tracked her movements with uncanny accuracy. He and his men hadn’t left a stone unturned in their search for her. They’d gone back to the house where she’d last been seen and had broadened their search from there.
It had taken weeks, but now they were following a lead into the mountains of Colorado and Rio was sure they were close. His gut was screaming and he never ignored his gut. It had kept him alive more times than he could count.
He paused when he heard a noise in the distance. He turned, scanning the area, and then he saw the infrared images of men he knew weren’t his moving stealthily through the trees.
Damn it.
He curled his hand into a fist. Where the hell was Grace? He didn’t have time to play hide-and-seek with the men who were after her. He needed to grab her and get the hell out.
He pulled his rifle from over his shoulder and silently moved in the direction of the heat signature. Ideally he didn’t want to shoot up the whole damn mountain and leave bodies lying everywhere. He’d rather find Grace and make a stealthy exit, but the savage part of him relished spilling a little blood.
A cry in the night froze him momentarily. He lifted his head to capture the faint echo as it died in the distance. It was a feminine cry, one that sent chills chasing down his spine. There was a hell of a lot of anguish, pain, and fear in that one small sound.
Grace.
He began to run, closing in on the source of the noise. He ripped the goggles from his head, needing to see his surroundings better. A hundred yards ahead, Terrence fell in beside him and they charged the remaining distance, guns up and ready.
They slowed when they reached the edge of a drop-off that overlooked a small valley below. The moon shone down, reflecting off the smooth rock floor and Rio’s gut clenched as he saw Grace Peterson backed to a steep edge that plummeted hundreds of feet into a riverbed.
He sensed the grim determination in her that she wouldn’t be captured again. He knew without doubt that she’d jump before ever going back. Her fear and desolation was like a tangible scent in the air. It tightened every one of his muscles, gripped his heart and squeezed relentlessly.
He had to get to her before the idiots forced her over with their stupidity.
Dropping down onto his belly, he pulled his gun up and put the crosshairs on the man closest to Grace. The stupid fuck had his hand held out in a placating manner but in his other hand was a gun and it was pointed directly at Grace. His entire posture screamed menace.
Rio squeezed a shot off. The man dropped like a stone and suddenly his comrades hit the ground and turned in the direction of the gunfire.
“Hell,” Terrence muttered as he got into position. “Thought we weren’t engaging?”
“Cover me. I’m going in,” Rio bit out.
Before Terrence could protest, Rio scrambled over the edge and rapidly worked his way down until he reached bottom. Above him, Terrence squeezed off round after round, the sounds echoing harshly in the night.
They had a limited amount of time before someone came to investigate all the gunfire. He turned and immediately searched for Grace again. To his horror he found her just as the edge gave way under her feet and she plummeted over the side.
He lunged forward as more gunfire erupted. This time, Terrence wasn’t trying to scare them. They dropped like flies as Terrence put them down one by one as Rio flew to the edge.
Trusting his man to protect his back, Rio only focused on trying to see how far down Grace had fallen or if the worst had occurred and she’d gone the entire distance to the riverbed.
He dug a flashlight out of his pack and dropped to his belly. He pointed the light down and made a slow sweep. As he pulled it closer to the side of the cliff, the light bounced over a tattered sneaker. He yanked the light up to see Grace lying limply on an outcropping. Her feet dangled over the side and her slim form barely fit the ledge. But she hadn’t fallen more than twenty feet.
Breaking radio silence, he called for immediate assistance. His men would have to lower him over by rope and he’d have to haul Grace up over his shoulder. Provided she was still alive. He wouldn’t consider any alternative, though. She hadn’t made it this far to go quietly.
As he was pushing to his knees, Terrence dropped down beside him, flashing his own light over the side.
“Diego and Browning have our sixes. Decker and Alton are scrambling to get here,” Terrence said. “I’ll lower you over with rope so you can get Grace.”
“All dead?”
“All dead,” Terrence confirmed.
Rio couldn’t waste time lamenting the mess they’d made. Grace was the priority and then they had to get the hell out of here before everything went to shit.
Terrence yanked out a coil of rope with a rappel hook on the end and quickly fastened it around his waist. He took several steps back, dug his heels into the soil and then wrapped the extra length around the base of an aspen and set the hook into the bark. He tossed the other end to Rio.
Rio secured the flashlight to his leg, pointing downward so his descent would be illuminated. Then he secured the end of the rope around his waist, yanked to make sure it was securely knotted, and then edged backward until his heels hung over the side.
Just before he started downward, Decker and Alton hit the scene. They rushed past Diego and Browning, who were standing watch, and each grabbed one of Rio’s hands to help him over the side.
They leaned down as he made his descent, holding onto his wrists until he had sure footing and he was certain that Terrence could support his weight.
The light bounced crazily as he continued downward. He glanced over his shoulder to see Grace still lying on the small ledge. He just hoped to hell it held both their weight.
He pushed off the side of the cliff when he reached her and lowered himself enough that he straddled the outcropping. Immediately he pressed his fingers to her neck, feeling for her pulse, and was reassured by the steady thud.
“Grace. Wake up. I’ve come to get you out of here but I need your help here.”
When he didn’t receive a response, his lips tightened in frustration. At the top, Decker and Browning shone their lights down. He dug his feet into the side, finding purchase, and then he carefully let go of the rope to slide his arms underneath her limp body.
Mentally counting to three, he hoisted her up and then arranged her over one shoulder so he could hold the rope with a free hand. He held her tightly, his arm a steel band over the backs of her legs.
“Pull us up,” he called up to his teammates.
Toe over toe, he dug into th
e side as the rope inched higher. His muscles bulged with the strain of bearing both their weight. The rope cut into his skin and his fingers were numb from his grip.
Let me die. Please.
At first he thought she’d said it aloud. It startled him into stillness. His toes dragged as they hoisted him higher and he had to scramble to regain his footing and assist them as they pulled him and Grace the remaining way.
He was suddenly swamped with desolation so acute that he couldn’t breathe. Pain. Fear. Regret. Hopelessness. And weariness that went soul deep.
He knew then that he’d heard Grace’s innermost thoughts. He was feeling what she felt. And her sorrow was so great that it staggered him.
Her tears were locked inside her, but he felt each one. Memories of all she’d endured flashed through his mind until he had to close his eyes to control his reeling senses.
I won’t go back.
Her voice whispered through his mind, so broken that he wanted to bellow in rage. He wanted to crawl up over the side of this damn cliff and rip apart the savages who’d pursued her so relentlessly and kill them all over again. The men who’d broken her spirit and made her even now want to die rather than endure more.
He knew that Nathan Kelly had been able to communicate with Grace’s sister, Shea, telepathically, but he hadn’t considered how or that he and Grace might be able to communicate the same way. It hadn’t been important at the time. He’d been gripped by the urgency to find her and keep her safe. Nothing else had mattered at that moment.
Tentatively, he reached out with his mind and spoke gently and reassuringly to her.
You’ll never go back to those bastards, Grace. You’re safe now. I’m here to help you. Don’t give up. You’ll get through this.
There was nothing but silence and he clenched his jaw in frustration. How the hell did you communicate with your mind? How did he even know if he was able to talk to her the same way she’d just spoken to him? He didn’t even know if she was cognizant of the fact that he’d picked up on those desperate thoughts.