“Listen.” He coughed and shuddered, taking a deep breath as though talking cost him. “I’ll slow us down, and we’ll get caught.”
“If you stay, August’s men could find you before help arrives.”
“Just do as I ask, all right? I don’t want to argue with you.”
“I won’t argue with you, either,” she said firmly. “I’m not leaving here without you and that’s final. If you can’t go on, my uncle will find both of us.”
A few minutes later, he rose with a great effort, gathered his things, and stumbled out of the tent. Daria sagged in relief. Thank God. Now she just had to keep his sexy ass moving.
A lot of the fight had gone out of him, but she intended to keep pushing.
No matter what, he wasn’t going to give up.
Somehow, Ryon put one foot in front of the other. He’d never been this low. Ever. Not even when he’d awakened in a hospital overseas with a raging wolf for a brand-new companion. Not in the months afterward, when he’d fought to control his other half and retain his tenuous hold on sanity.
Nick’s voice broke through his thoughts. Ryon?
Yeah, boss?
The lab has a batch of the serum ready, so we’ll bring it, see if we can find Ben. Where are you? We’re about to leave.
That’s great! Um . . . I’m not sure. A few miles south of August’s estate, following the river. We’re looking for a good clearing.
On our way. Hang in there, all right?
Sure thing.
He wasn’t sure at all, but he kept moving. “Nick contacted me,” he said hoarsely. “They’re coming. They’ve got some serum for Ben.”
“Best news I’ve heard all week!”
Daria attempted to speak to him again, but he didn’t really hear her. Couldn’t. He just walked until a weird buzzing noise made him stop, cock his head, and listen. Daria said something else. He couldn’t understand her over the noise, like thousands of bees in his head.
The forest began to dim. His head tilted back and he saw blue sky as his knees buckled. Sky?
Then nothing but darkness.
“Ryon, look!” Daria exclaimed, pointing. Just ahead, the forest ended and a flat river delta widened before them for at least a mile. Plenty of room for a helicopter to land! “Better contact Nick and tell him about this place. Ryon?”
He’d stopped and was looking up, his head cocked—then he folded and slumped to the ground.
“Shit!” She knelt at his side, slapped his face. “Come on, don’t do this! We’re almost home free, so you can’t quit.”
Ryon’s breathing was harsh and labored, his color gray beneath his tan. Rolling him to his side, she worked the pack off his shoulders and laid aside the rifle. After settling him on his back, she fished through the pack and retrieved a bottle of water.
Cradling his head in her lap, she placed the opening between his lips and poured a tiny bit of the liquid into his mouth. He sputtered and coughed, but opened his eyes to slits and raised his head, seeking more. The next swallow went down without difficulty now that he’d regained consciousness.
“That’s it, easy now,” she crooned. “Hang in there, okay? We’re at the edge of a clearing. Perfect place for them to land. Couple of hours, maybe, and we’re home free.”
He tried to smile. “That’s good. Nick will send a small team in to find Ben. They’ll help him.”
She was beyond touched that he’d think of Ben at a time like this—especially when it was Ben’s creature that had put him in this condition. “I’m grateful they’re willing to give it a shot.”
For a while, Daria sat running her fingers through his hair. His skin was hot and dry as a desert, a sign of dehydration. The infection had spread through his body and was running its course. If he didn’t get medical attention soon, shifter or not, he would die. Fear threatened to overwhelm her.
“Drink more water.” She helped him, and he didn’t resist. Still, his beautiful blue eyes were dull, his sensual lips unsmiling.
“Daria, if August gets here before my team and I can’t stop him, don’t let him take me alive.”
“God, Ryon, don’t even say that,” she gasped.
“I won’t fall into his hands and become one of his experiments, not if I can prevent it. I saw what they did to Aric, Micah, and Phoenix. Ben, too. I won’t let him do that to me.”
She was spared from responding to his awful request when he fell asleep. If August caught them, she knew she wouldn’t take Ryon’s life, or her own. Not because she was a coward, but because she wouldn’t give up hope that they would get out of this mess. His team would come. They always did. If he wasn’t so sick and was thinking straight, he’d know it, too.
Daria combated the boredom by dozing lightly, keeping an ear open for Ryon’s breathing, as well as any sounds that didn’t belong. A friggin’ helicopter would be nice. A big one or two loaded with wolves—and one panther—and armed to the teeth.
One hour came and went. Two. Cramped, Daria had to shift Ryon off her lap, stand and stretch. She made a tour around the immediate vicinity to work out the kinks, not straying far from him. Strolling to the edge of the tree line, she admired the pretty green delta, the river snaking away in the distance. An odd oasis smack in the middle of the rain forest.
She started to turn, then froze. That sound. Could it be?
Whump-whump-whump.
The distinctive pumping of rotor blades, and just there, a tiny speck in the distance. Then two specks that grew progressively larger.
“Yes! Ryon!” she squealed. Pushing through the tangle of vines, she ran back to him and dropped to her knees. She shook him hard enough to rattle his teeth. “Wake up. They’re here!”
Ryon sat up and blinked at her. “What?”
“The Pack is here! Hurry, get up.”
Blinking, he struggled upright. “Thank Christ. Where’s our stuff?”
“Right here.”
A sharp crack split the air, followed by more. Bullets were suddenly pelting the trees around them, men shouting.
Ryon staggered to his feet and shoved her pack into her hands. “Run to one of the copters and don’t look back!”
The whump-whump from the big Hueys filled the air as he pushed her forward and dove for his rifle. Daria ran into the clearing, across the flat ground. Her heart slammed in tempo with her feet as shouts drifted after her. Bullets kicked the dirt beside her, plucked at her pack.
The helicopters loomed over the horizon, coming in fast and low. The first pilot slowed, hovered, and set down about fifty yards away. She saw that it was Aric, and he left the blades whirling and ready to take off. Jax was sitting in the open side door, holding an M16 like Ryon’s, yelling and waving her on. The second Huey landed not far from the first, Pack guys spilling out and sprinting to back up their endangered comrade.
Almost there. Twenty feet, ten, five. And then she was in, Jax yanking her clean off her feet. She landed inside hard, but didn’t spare him a glance. She spun about to see Ryon making a magnificent stand halfway between the tree line and the helicopter. His muscles bunched as he sprayed the forest with a steady onslaught of bullets, pinning down the goons to cover her flight. His team was coming up fast behind him.
One of the men coming to his aid, Micah, grabbed Ryon and pushed him in the direction of the helicopters. Ryon whirled, half-running, mostly limping, toward her. Strain etched his face, but he kept coming. Aric held their position as Jax fired past Ryon and the others into the trees. The fight heated up as the two forces continued the gun battle—and then something horrifying happened.