The woman motioned for Kell to put Shea down on the makeshift bed. He obeyed, carefully depositing her on the thin cot beneath the blankets and adjusting her head on the round pillow. He didn’t like that she hadn’t woken up yet. In truth, it scared the hell out of him.
Oksana nudged him out of the way and he backed up, watching as she slowly sat beside Shea as if her bones ached.
Something brushed his arm. He glanced over to see Alsu lifting one of the duffle bags off his shoulder. He slid them off and set them beside the table, out of the way.
Alsu motioned for him to follow her outside, but he shook his head. No way in hell was he leaving Shea’s side. Not until she was awake and alert.
“She is in good hands,” Alsu said softly.
“I’m sorry. I’m staying.”
Oksana glanced over her shoulder at his firm tone, chanting under her breath. She held his gaze for a second before turning her attention back to Shea. Her wrinkled hands hovered over Shea’s chest, then her face.
Minutes later the woman ambled to her feet, unsteady, but in complete control. She murmured something to Alsu and left the hut.
“She’s going to get her herbs,” Alsu said.
He struggled a bit with the dialect, but mostly understood what Oksana said. She hadn’t shown any concern over Shea’s unconsciousness. Hadn’t shown much emotion whatsoever. Kell didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. The first sign of a storm approaching. Evening had fallen and soon it would be night. Which would bring in the storm full force.
Another woman, younger, pretty, brought them plates of food. Bread and noodle-rich, it smelled delicious. Kell accepted his with a bow of his head in thanks and ate the homemade offering until his plate was clean. Alsu finished hers as well, only less quickly as him.
Oksana returned with a colorful bag. The woman who had served the food took their plates and left the hut. Kell stood back, watching as the healer crushed herbs with a mortar and pestle. She added some liquid to it and dipped her thumb in. Then she put a dot of the dark paste in the center of Shea’s forehead, on her neck, arms and ankles. As she did it she chanted softly, nearly inaudible so Kell couldn’t understand what she was saying.
She unwrapped Shea’s wrist, applied more salve and moved to her ankle where she unwrapped the bandage and set it aside. Alsu was there to gather the discarded bandages.
When the woman prodded Shea’s swollen foot Shea moaned but didn’t wake up. Oksana let her hands hover over the injury, eyes closed, murmuring. Then she mixed up more herbs. This time in a tin cup, and pressed it to Shea’s lips. Alsu held Shea’s head up slightly so she didn’t choke.
When they finished the woman packed up her things and Alsu helped her to her feet. Oksana gave instructions to Alsu to pass on to him, he caught most of it, then shuffled from the hut.
Alsu looked up at him. “You may stay here,” she said. “I will bunk with my parents and siblings.” She pointed to the bowl and pitcher on the table. “There is fresh water for drinking. Miss Shea is sleeping now. Time will tell if she is to heal or not.”
Kell’s gut clenched. If it worked. There was a chance it wouldn’t? Just how sick was she?
Alsu patted his arm and left him alone with Shea, closing the door behind her. More thunder rippled overhead, this time closer and more forceful. He moved to Shea’s side and knelt on the floor, pressing the back of his hand to her flushed cheek. Too warm.
“Dammit, Shea,” he murmured. “Wake up.”
She didn’t stir. But, her breathing had evened out a little. Not so rapid. He had no choice but to trust her welfare in the hands of the healer. God knows he didn’t have the means to help her.
Sitting down, he leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes. Damn, he was tired. His arms and shoulders ached from carrying Shea for so many hours.
He needed to contact Quinn, update him before he sent out a search party. Despite the no-fly laws, his brothers would find a way in country just to save his ass.
Unfortunately, there was no cell service up here and they hadn’t brought a satellite phone. Nearly everything else they needed, but not that. Too easy to track anyway. Risking a call might give away their location. The CIA had high tech ways to find people. Drones, satellites. He didn’t need to give them any more reason to look up here. And a satellite call from the mountains would definitely raise suspicions. Like a beacon, it would lead the Company straight to Shea.
Even a cell call would be dangerous. If they could make one, that is. Since they couldn’t, he had no way to contact his brothers. He only hoped they sat still until they heard from him. Endangering their lives didn’t settle well at all. One brother had already been lost. He wouldn’t lose another.
Familiar pain knifed his chest at the thought of Ryan. God, he missed that kid.
Kell scrubbed a hand down his face. He needed a shave. But, until they were back home he wasn’t touching his beard. He needed to blend in with the locals as much as possible.
It grew darker in the hut so he got up and lit the lantern. A few drops of rain pinged off the roof. Followed by a crack of thunder that nearly rattled his teeth. Shea jumped in her sleep, but didn’t open her eyes.
Kell decided that for the moment they were safe so he lay down next to Shea and let his eyes close. He was so damned tired. Maybe he’d just catch a few hours of sleep.
“I can’t reach Kell,” Quinn growled, squeezing his cell phone.
“Maybe he’s out of range,” Chris said, typing on the keyboard in front of a wall of monitors. “I pinged his cell. Looks like it’s in Jamshid.” Chris leaned in closer. “It’s in the street and it’s not moving.”
Quinn cursed. “That could mean a lot of things.”
Chris held up his hands. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just telling you what I see.”
Quinn raked a hand through his hair. A still phone in the street could mean Kell had lost it. Or, it was on his person and he was lying dead in the street.
He refused to believe the latter, ignoring the suffocating squeeze of his chest. He’d lost one brother already. He sure as hell wasn’t losing another. Kell was a ghost. Hard to find. Hell, if anyone could avoid capture it was him. It creeped them all out how Kell ghosted in and out of places without so much as a sound. But, they also didn’t want anyone else watching their back. It galled him that Kell didn’t have anyone watching his. They should be there, dammit. He was going to kick Kell’s ass for taking off without letting anyone know.
“I just lost the signal,” Chris said, somber, tapping more keys, pulling up more maps.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Quinn said. “Kell probably lost it and some locals picked it up and destroyed it.”
“Probably,” Chris agreed, although neither one of them believed it. Azbakastan was tumultuous in normal times. Deadly in times like this. They knew how bad it could get when a country went to war.
And, how dangerous it was for their brother to be trapped there.
This time, they didn’t have Shea or her resources at the CIA to bring their brother home. Kell was blind. Getting home would be on him and only on him. As much as it concerned Quinn. He didn’t like this. Not one damn bit. Shit was hitting the fan over there and Kell was smack dab in the middle of it.
And there was nothing any of them could do.
24
Village in Sunnat Mountains, Azbakastan
Rain pelted the roof and walls, sounding more like a monsoon than a thunderstorm. Kell lay awake on the floor next to Shea, ready to ditch and run if necessary. He had faith the villagers knew what they were doing when they built their homes. But, he wasn’t taking any chances.
Thunder cracked overhead. Shea jumped, her hands swinging in the air to ward off whatever demons she fought in her sleep. She caught him across the jaw with a strong right hook considering she was half out of it.
Kell grunted and wrapped his arms around her, pinning h
er arms at her sides. She bucked beneath him with surprising strength. He wrapped himself around her, whispering sweet nothings in her ear until finally she settled down and went still.
“Kell?” she whispered.
“It’s me.”
“Where are we?”
Thunder rolled overhead, not as angry. Shea went rigid, a tremble going through her body.
“We’re in the village. Safe.”
The storm started to crank up again, wind whipping against the walls, rattling the door. Shea had started to tremble for real now. What the hell?
“Hey, we’re safe,” he said, holding her tighter.
She buried her face in his neck, her breath warm against his skin. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? Are you in pain?”
She shook her head.
“Shea? What’s wrong?”
A pause. “The storm. I hate storms.”
He frowned into the darkness, caught off guard by the omission. She faced deadly terrorists head on but a simple storm bothered her?
She started to pull away, but he held her tight.
“It’s stupid,” she said.
“It’s not. Lots of people don’t like storms. They’re unpredictable.”
Her trembling had lessened. “Why don’t I remember getting here?”
“You passed out when I was carrying you. You had a fever.” He pressed his lips against her forehead. “It’s down now.”
“My wrist isn’t bandaged anymore. Neither is my ankle. Did you do that?”
“No. Alsu’s mother is a healer. She applied some of her herbal medicine to your wounds and made you drink something.”
“Well, it worked. I feel rough, but better. My head isn’t so cloudy.”
Thunder cracked. Lightning flashed. Shea flinched.
Kell rolled onto his back, bringing her up close to his side so she could rest her head on his shoulder. He tried to ignore how right she felt in his arms. How natural it felt to hold her. As if she belonged. He’d felt it that weekend they spent together and he felt it now. Four years hadn’t changed that. But it had changed them.
“What’s our next step?” she asked.
She sounded tired so he said, “Don’t worry about that now. Rest and heal. Then we’ll figure out where to go next.”
A yawn. “Okay.”
She definitely wasn’t back to her old self yet or she never would have agreed so easily. He liked the spunky, take-no-shit Shea. Even if she did grind his last nerve when she bucked him.
“Kell?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t leave.”
He shifted to get more comfortable. “Never.”
Cedar Falls, Michigan
Dani sipped her tea, staring out across the lake. She’d dreamed of Ryan last night. About the day they went antique shopping and bought an old table that he restored to it’s natural beauty. Except, in her dream he didn’t finish it. She kept begging him to complete it, needing closure, but he only smiled and faded out of her dreams. Like a ghost she couldn’t touch.
She’d awakened with a familiar feeling of longing that ached deep in her soul. Longing so strong it physically hurt. Unable to shake it, she’d gotten up, wrapped in a robe and went downstairs to make a cup of tea. She’d developed a taste for it since she’d found out she was pregnant. Truthfully, she didn’t miss coffee at all.
Her appetite was starting to return also. Her morning sickness had almost subsided, thank goodness. She didn’t miss that at all. She’d even started craving things like plums and expensive chocolates. She’d always liked chocolate, but could take it or leave it. Now, she had to have it. In fact, she’d ordered three boxes online before bed last night. Cedar Falls was a small town without a lot of options when it came to gourmet foods. Before now she’d loved that. Since pregnancy she wished they had a sweet shop that carried those gold assorted boxes of candy wrapped with a red ribbon.
She’d read that cravings stemmed from the bodies need for a vitamin or mineral. Chocolate provided calcium so she made a note to talk to her doctor during her next visit and have her calcium levels checked.
The plums on the other hand was an easy craving to appease. In her what-to-expect-during-pregnancy reading she’d learned that plums increased the absorption of iron in the body and provided lots of vitamin C. So, she landed on each end of the spectrum, craving healthy and not so healthy. Typical of her to land right in the middle.
She set her cup on the table beside her Adirondack chair and pulled her robe tighter around her. The nights were getting cooler. Fall was coming. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to sit out here without warmer clothes. She liked the changing seasons, but summer was her favorite. The warmer the better for her. She loved summer dresses and sandals. Bare feet in the grass. A warm breeze drifting through the windows.
Ryan had always enjoyed summer, too. He loved to swim. All the Wolff family loved to swim, she’d noticed. Probably why the entire family owned and lived on a private lake. When Ryan told her he lived on a lake with his family she hadn’t known what to expect. He hadn’t been wrong. At the time he’d been living in a tiny cabin behind Kell’s only slighter larger cabin. It didn’t take much convincing for him to agree to build a house for her. For them. Ryan loved working with his hands. When he wasn’t on a mission he spent his days building and restoring old furniture. She would sit for hours watching his strong hands turn something old into something new.
Dani suddenly sat up in her chair. She touched her cheeks. Dry. No tears.
This was the first time since Ryan’s death that she had been able to think about him without crying.
A warmth spread over her and she sat back, putting a hand on her tiny belly bump. Softly, she said, “We’re going to be okay, little one.”
And, for the first time in a long time, she believed it.
25
Village in Sunnat Mountains, Azbakastan
Shea opened her eyes to dim light coming through the grimy windows. She groaned, her back protesting sleeping on the floor, and sat up. The hut was empty except for some rugs, a crude table and chair and a pitcher and bowl.
Had she dreamed the storm last night? Or had Kell put her at ease enough that she’d slept through it? That would be a first. The night her parents were killed it was storming. She’d been watching Brianna while their parents were out. Brianna didn’t mind the storm, but it put Shea on edge. Made the house feel bigger. Scarier. When the police knocked on the door to give them the news about their parents accident all she remembered was thunder and lightning booming around them. Now, she associated storms with the night her parents were killed. She’d tried to get over it, but that feeling always came back whenever it stormed. That feeling of loss and fear. Fear of what was going to happen to her and Brianna. Fear of everything she knew changing.
And it had changed. More than she cared to admit. She’d been eighteen so the courts let her take charge of her sister. Luckily, their parents had been planners with a life insurance policy that paid off the house and debts and college tuition. Keeping everything running was up to Shea. She’d worked two jobs while going to college to keep Brianna from suffering in any way. The sacrifices she made for her sister were something she never regretted. She didn’t need the ‘college experience’. Didn’t need sororities and frat parties.
She’d found her calling by missing out on all that stuff. If she had been involved in a sorority she probably wouldn’t have been recruited by the CIA. They didn’t look for socialites. They sought out the loners. The one with little to no family. No ties. Someone who didn’t have much to lose.
She fit that bill. Her recruitment led to bigger, better things. She quit both her jobs to go through training. Brianna was taken care of and able to go to school without having to work. She got to enjoy the ‘college experience’ and Shea was happy about that. She’d wanted everything for her sister and did whatever she could to provide it for her. The CIA definitely helped her achieve that goal. Until a te
rrorist took her sister’s life.
Pushing those thoughts away, Shea tested her ankle, rolling her foot. Still swollen but not as much. Sore, but it felt like she could walk on it. Didn’t know till she tried.
Shea braced a hand on the wall and pushed to her feet, keeping as much weight off her injured ankle as possible. She crooked her leg and limped over to the water bowl and pitcher. What she really wanted was a long, hot bath to soak away her aches and pains. Not gonna happen here. Villages like this often relied on rivers or lakes for water and usually walked miles to get it. Water was a rare commodity in most villages.
She poured only a small amount into the bowl and bent over, dipping her hands in and splashing her face with it. She did the same thing two more times, letting the warm water wash away some of the grit and dirt she felt clogging her pores.
The door opened and she straightened, grabbing a tattered cloth from beside the pitcher. She used it to dry her face as she turned to see who had come in.
Kell strode in, hair wet, wearing a pair of cargo pants and t-shirt.
“You’re awake,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Better. Where were you?”
“There’s a waterfall near here. Alsu showed me the way.”
Her scalp actually tingled in longing of bathing and washing her hair. A-Stan drew many tourists to their beautiful waterfalls and clear greenish-blue waters. It made her extremely happy to hear there was one nearby.
“Take me,” she said.
“Are you sure you’re up to it? It’s a walk.”
She was already limping to her bag and sliding it on her shoulder. “I need a pair of shoes.” Her boot wasn’t likely to go on her foot yet. A pair of soft-soled slipper-style shoes would be perfect and provide just enough protection.
“Wait here.”
Kell disappeared back out the door. Shea waited, her mind on nothing except the crystal clear water waiting for her and how good it would feel to be clean.
Worth the Risk (Book 3, Wolff Securities Series) Page 14