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Whispers in the Dark k-4

Page 3

by Maya Banks


  As a soldier he lived with the reality that each day could be his last. Death wasn’t something he could afford to be in denial over. It wasn’t what happened to other people. It happened to his fellow soldiers on a daily basis.

  And now he realized that there were some things worse than death. Death meant peace. It meant rest. It meant relief from unimaginable conditions. Even animals were afforded more dignity than he was. Sometimes simply enduring was worse than death.

  He didn’t fear it. A part of him welcomed it.

  He slid a hand over his bare chest and down to his gaunt belly. He could feel each rib. Dirt and blood covered his naked body, but he’d long since gotten over the outrage of being stripped of his clothing.

  Imagine that you’re in a hot bath and that food surrounds you on all sides.

  Startled by the soft intrusion, he laughed softly at the image she painted in his mind. Are you safe? Where are you now? Why do you think you’re in danger?

  She was bone weary and pain beat relentlessly at her head. She was curled into a ball. On a bed? If she was in danger, she was extremely vulnerable. Had she locked the doors? Did she have means to defend herself?

  It’s you we need to concern ourselves with, she murmured in a drowsy voice that hummed like sweet honey through his head. Tell me more now. I can’t…I can’t just call your brother up. It’s too risky for me. But I can send him a letter. Or…She huffed in frustration and closed her eyes as she tried to gather her senses. Her battle confused him. He had no idea how any of this was possible. I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.

  Though there was fatigue and resignation bleeding from her, he sensed steely resolve. She was determined to help him.

  You could email Van. He’s always on the computer. He’d see it right away. It was out before he even thought about what he was doing. He was giving out his brother’s email address to his imaginary friend. Then the rest of what she’d said caught up to him. Why is it risky for you? What kind of trouble are you in? My brothers could protect you. They’d be in your debt if you helped them find me.

  I’m not safe. I’ll never be safe.

  The soft words slipped through his mind. They were tinged with regret but said matter-of-factly. Whatever her situation, she absolutely believed that she was in danger. She accepted it without hesitation.

  Think, Nathan. Think about where you could be. Where were you when you were captured? Were you transported far? Were you conscious at the time? There has to be something I can pass on to your brothers.

  He sucked in his breath and tried to calm his thoughts. Every time he thought back to that day, his mind became a jumble of gunfire, explosions, mixed shouts. Some from his men, some from the enemy.

  He and his team had pulled a recon. Nothing complicated. They weren’t expecting to be engaged. The area had been quiet. The hot zone was to the south. They’d split off from Joe’s team, one going farther north, Nathan and his team taking the immediate area.

  Then all hell had broken loose.

  It was hard to piece together that day. An explosion close to him had knocked him unconscious, and when he’d come to, he was bound and in the back of a shoddy-ass cargo truck. Three of his team members were there. One had died soon after. The other had died today. Only Swanny remained. Alive in hell with Nathan.

  Grief overwhelmed him. Emotion knotted his throat. He’d kept his word, his pact with his team. They’d vowed not to be broken, not to cooperate no matter the cost. And now Taylor was dead.

  His last words to Nathan had been, “Don’t do it, Kelly. Don’t you fucking do it.”

  Nathan had remained silent and Taylor had died.

  Was it worth it? Was any of it worth it?

  Never before had he questioned his dedication or his resolve. He was a soldier. His job was to serve his country. It was a duty he’d embraced.

  But here in the dark, alone, without hope, he doubted everything that made him who he was.

  Nathan.

  Her voice so full of understanding. Caring. How could she care so damn much? She didn’t even know him.

  I can’t maintain the link between us much longer. You have to tell me what you can about your location. I’ll write it down. Word for word. I’ll do what I can to help you, and I won’t leave you if I can help it. I’ll stay with you until they find you.

  The promise in her words ignited a spark in the darkness of his soul. He wanted it to be true. He wanted this miracle. Was it God talking to him? Was she an angel?

  His email is Van@KGI.org. Tell him…Tell him to talk to Joe. Tell him…Nathan strained to get his bearings. To remember. He’d been dragged from the truck. It was daylight. He remembered looking down. Tell him Korengal Valley.

  Can you rest now? You have to preserve your strength. Is your pain better?

  He felt the stroke of a hand over his cheek. So soft and soothing. He closed his eyes and leaned into empty space. Even with her strength nearly gone, she gave the last of it to offer him solace.

  He reached up as if he would capture the hand on his face but his fingers found only his own dirty, blood-crusted skin. But still, he palmed his cheek, savoring the idea that he held her hand in his.

  Rest with me. I can feel your weakness. My pain is gone, but yours isn’t. I would take it away if I could.

  He felt her smile, and warmth spread through his veins.

  Silly, she murmured. No point in me taking your pain if you take it back. Sleep now. I’ll be here if you need me. Just call for me.

  CHAPTER 4

  “IT’S been two goddamn months, and we’ve got nothing,” Donovan Kelly bit out. Rage consumed him. He wanted to take apart the newly constructed war room with his bare hands.

  His brothers didn’t look any happier.

  Sam Kelly hunched over the table where the map lay. On it were thumbtacks noting all the places where KGI had already gone in search of Nathan. Garrett stood next to his brother and Ethan was on the other side, his hand curled around his nape as he stared down in frustration.

  They were tired. Their resources stretched thin. They’d already spent so much time away from their family. Their wives. Sam’s daughter. Nathan’s disappearance had taken a toll on them all, and yet no one was going to give up until he was found and brought home.

  “This is bullshit,” Donovan continued. “You can’t tell me they’re doing everything to find him.”

  Sam held up his hand then let it fall to the table again. Donovan went silent but still simmered with fury. He turned away and paced toward the window that overlooked the Kelly compound.

  Construction in varying stages was going on all over the grounds. In the distance, the plot of land he’d picked out for his own house stood, still unblemished and thick with trees. How the hell could he think about a damn house when his brother was still missing?

  How could any of them think of anything else?

  Everything had come to a halt in the Kelly family. Garrett and Sarah weren’t marrying until they had news of Nathan one way or another. There was little cause for celebration when their family wasn’t whole.

  The KGI teams had gone in search of Nathan four times already, the first two without permission by Uncle Sam. Not that they gave a flying fuck. Resnick had dragged his heels, not wanting any part of a potentially sticky situation between a private rescue operation and any U.S.-sanctioned rescue operation, not to mention the fallout when KGI kicked the shit out of whoever held their brother.

  By the time official permission had been given, KGI was already staging their third mission to the Middle East. It hadn’t surprised any of them that while Uncle Sam was willing to not kick their asses over it, they sure as hell weren’t giving official support either.

  “You’re on your own,” Resnick had grimly stated.

  Yeah, what else was new?

  Not that Donovan thought Resnick was a total asshole. His hands were tied. It wasn’t like in the past when the government had a personal stake in supporting one of KGI’s m
issions. There was no CIA most wanted this time. No criminal or threat to national security. Just a brother Donovan had no intention of relying on others to mount a rescue for.

  Joe was still laid up and casted and he was one pissed-off motherfucker that his twin was out there and he couldn’t go after him. He wasn’t even officially out of the army yet, so whether he was good to go or not, Uncle Sam still had a tight leash on his ass.

  It didn’t mean he was shy about busting the rest of his brothers’ balls over going in to get Nathan out.

  If they only knew where the fuck to find him.

  “Van, get me the latest satellite imagery. Maybe we’ll get lucky and see movement,” Garrett said.

  Donovan turned to the computer they called Hoss and leaned over to call up the map. They’d only been back a few days. They couldn’t remain in Afghanistan indefinitely. It was too risky. They had to get in and out and make their recon stealthy. But he was itching to go back. He hadn’t wanted to leave. Nathan was there. Somewhere. And he needed them.

  He printed the map so they could compare it to the last captured image and started to walk away when he saw the new email alert in the lower-left-hand corner.

  He clicked to pop up the message, frowning when he saw the recipient. It wasn’t anyone he was familiar with and it was one of those obviously fake Hotmail addresses that usually meant SPAM.

  Then his gaze dropped to the message and he froze.

  Nathan said to talk to Joe. He’s not far from last coordinate. Said to tell you Korengel Valley. He needs your help. He won’t last much longer.

  That was it? Dear God. Donovan stared in helpless fury at the vaguely worded message. Ask Joe? Like they hadn’t already grilled their brother mercilessly? Like Joe hadn’t told them everything he knew?

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Was this how Ethan felt when he’d received information about his wife, Rachel? How the fuck was he supposed to take something like this seriously? How could he not? Especially when the information about Rachel had led them right to her?

  “What’s up, Van?” Sam demanded.

  Donovan slowly turned around to face his brothers. “You have to see this.”

  NATHAN lay in the dark, willing himself to rest, but every muscle in his body was tense. Pain had crept back in hours past, but he’d remained silent, not wanting to say her name. He hadn’t allowed himself to even think it.

  It was agony because he wanted her there in his mind. He wanted the reassurance of another human being. He ached for the comfort only she could give him. But he didn’t want her to take his pain. He didn’t want her to suffer again.

  And so he lay there and endured both physical and mental anguish.

  His thoughts were consumed with escape, revenge, hatred, hopelessness, but mostly escape. He closed his eyes and imagined himself back home with his brothers having beer on the lake. Ma’s home cooking. His dad’s steady presence. Rachel’s sweet smile. Even Rusty’s smart mouth.

  Would he ever see them again?

  He couldn’t bear to think of the pain his family was going through. They’d already endured so much with Rachel’s captivity and then his mother’s abduction. How much more could they take?

  He shook his head. It wasn’t a matter of what they could take. The Kellys were unshakable. He worried more about his own sanity and, if he did get back home, how much he would be changed.

  You’ll go back home, Nathan. You have to believe that.

  His pulse rocketed and he sat up. Relief made him weak. His hands shook and his knees wobbled. She was back.

  I sent the email to your brother. It’s not a lot of information, though. Have you been able to think of anything else that might help them locate you sooner?

  Nathan hunched over and wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knees. He hated that hope fluttered deep inside him. Like a coal in a dying fire that still had some heat left.

  Nathan, talk to me. You can’t lose hope. You aren’t going to survive without hope. If you give up now, there’ll be nothing for your brothers to find.

  Tell them…Goddamn it, I don’t know! I haven’t seen daylight in I don’t know when. I’ve been in this shit hole, and when I’m not here, they’re working me over in some dank, moldy room. I’m so damn disoriented most of the time that I have a hard time separating what’s real and what’s not.

  Something clicked in his mind, and he closed his eyes for a moment as he brought back the image of them killing Taylor.

  Cave. I’m in a fucking cave.

  What hope he’d briefly entertained dwindled to nothing.

  They’ll never find me here. There are caves all over these mountains.

  Then you have to escape.

  He tried to laugh but the sound came out as a harsh rasp. You make it sound so easy. Don’t you think I would have escaped already if I could? I’ve tried! God knows, I’ve tried.

  You didn’t have me before.

  The resoluteness of her words brought an abrupt halt to the pity train.

  Do you have some other kind of powers? Besides being able to talk to me in my head and hear my thoughts?

  Unfortunately no. But we’ll work with what we have.

  I was being an ass. You’ve taken my pain and that’s no small thing. I don’t know how you do it or why, but I’m grateful. I don’t think I’ve ever even said thank you.

  You’re hurting now.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it but then he realized the absurdity of denying what she already knew.

  Before he could respond, warmth spread through him. To his very core. He couldn’t even describe the sensation of comfort sliding so deeply into his heart and mind. He wanted to tell her to stop, that he didn’t want her to hurt in his place, but he was overwhelmed and nearly shattered by the instant relief that swamped him.

  And then he became aware of her huddled, wrapping her arms around her body, her soft moans sliding through his mind. Without thought as to how to accomplish it, he simply reached out, imagined holding her to offer the comfort she so selflessly offered him.

  She went still, suddenly alert and wary. And then as if realizing who it was who held her, she relaxed.

  He was immediately assailed by the feel and smell of her. Her scent drifted through his nostrils, a sharp and welcome contrast to the odor of sweat and blood and death.

  The sensation of holding her was so keen that he closed his eyes and imagined himself in a place far away from his present reality.

  She was warm in his arms, though she still trembled from the aftereffects of taking his pain. Her hair was soft against his cheek, and he rubbed up and down, feeling the tickle of the strands against his nose.

  He inhaled sharply, taking in the scent of her shampoo. Honeysuckle danced through his nostrils, reminding him of summers in Tennessee.

  Tell me about you. You said you were in trouble.

  She tensed and he panicked, thinking that she would withdraw. His link to her had become the single most important thing in his existence.

  Tell me anything, he hastily amended. Just talk to me. Who are you? How do you have this ability to talk to me, to take my pain and hear my thoughts?

  She laughed softly. You don’t ask for much.

  We can talk about anything. I just hate the silence.

  He felt the soft explosion of air against his neck as she sighed.

  I don’t know how or why I have the abilities I do. I’ve always had them, at least for as long as I can remember. My mother always knew I was different or so she said. She told me a story of when I was a toddler and she burned her hand cooking. She cried out and I grabbed her hand only wanting to take the pain from her.

  She said I started to cry the longer I held her hand, and when she pulled it away I had an identical burn mark on my palm. She said her pain was completely gone but we both had a blister.

  He went completely still as he grappled with what she’d just told him. Dread gathered in his gut. Are you telling me t
hat when you take my pain from me, you actually take on the wounds as well?

  She was quiet for a moment.

  Tell me, he said fiercely.

  What do you want me to say, Nathan? Yes, I take the pain and the marks or wounds, but it isn’t permanent. They don’t last as long as yours will. They often begin to fade within a few hours.

  Son of a bitch. I don’t want you to do it anymore.

  It’s my choice.

  Why? Why, goddamn it? You don’t know me. I could be a complete asshole. Why would you do something like that for me at such a risk to yourself?

  Because you need me.

  Because he needed her. It was an explanation he couldn’t even wrap his mind around. It was so simple and yet baffling. Did anyone ever just do for someone because they needed it? It wasn’t like she was helping a hungry child, or giving money to a homeless person. She was taking on unimaginable pain. Because she didn’t think he could bear it any longer.

  You were so close to giving up. I was in your mind, Nathan. I knew what you were thinking. What you were feeling. It broke my heart. I couldn’t not help you.

  Shame slid through his chest. Guilt that he’d been so weak to even briefly contemplate giving up. Because of that weakness she’d taken far more than she ever should have. And yet, could he have survived if she hadn’t?

  He knew the answer. It ate at him that he was so dependent on this faceless woman, just a whisper in the dark. Now that the connection had been made, he’d go insane if it was broken.

  There’s no shame in needing someone, she offered softly.

  He considered her words for a moment. No, I don’t suppose there is.

  You just have to hold on until your brothers come for you. I know how you see them, that you have absolute faith in them. Hold on to that and you’ll be home soon.

  You’re a fucking miracle, Shea. I don’t know what the hell I would have done if you hadn’t spoken to me when you did.

  You would have endured.

  You have more faith in me than I have.

 

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