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Her face contorted, and her lips drew together in a fine line, going white as she battled what seemed to be unbearable pain.

And then her eyes flew open, and she stared up at Jonah and Eli. Her pupils went wide with fear, and then she turned away, her eyes staring unseeingly into the jungle. Her leg jumped, and the nerves in her arms spasmed uncontrollably.

Eli’s expression hardened while Jonah’s face softened when he stared down at her shaking body. Jonah reached out and gently touched her face.

Slowly her eyes moved until she locked gazes with him.

“What did they do to you, habibti?”

His voice was strained. Uncharacteristic emotion simmered in his eyes.

She stared dully back at him. “They took my eggs,” she whispered.

Jonah’s head came up in shock, and the other men all stared at each other. Had they understood right? Ian’s face tightened in horror as he remembered the scene right before Braden shifted. The spreading of her legs and the metal device the man had put between her legs. Dear God.

She closed her eyes as tears seeped from the corners, leaving damp trails down her pale face.

Eli turned to stare up at Mad Dog. There was steel in his eyes. “Give me some time before you blow this place to hell.” Then he turned to the others. “Get Katie to the helicopter. I’ll meet you there.”

* * *

Jonah carried Katie through the jungle, with Mad Dog taking point and Tits bringing up the rear. Ian and Braden were still weak and shaky from the drugs and the prolonged shift.

Jonah glanced down as Katie jerked and spasmed in his arms and wondered for the hundredth time what the bastards had done to her. And why? She clutched a worn leather journal to her chest, and murmured a weak protest when he tried to take it from her. So he left it, not wanting to cause her any more distress.

Her eyes had the vacant, distant look of the women brutalized under his father’s reign of tyranny. She looked…like his mother had the day he’d found her huddled in the bedroom of their palace home.

He stared stonily ahead even as his grip tightened around Katie’s slight form. He hadn’t been able to save his mother or the many others his father had crushed. In the end, he’d fled, shedding all association with Adharji and his dictator father.

Funny how things had a way of coming full circle. All things began in Adharji.

“Slow up, Jonah,” Tits called. “We’re nearing the landing site. Let Ian and Braden go ahead and make sure the area is clear. I’ll hang back and provide cover for you.”

Jonah slowed his pace and loosened his grip around Katie’s body. “Poor habibti,” he murmured as he stared down at the perspiration glistening on her face. “You’ve had it way too hard for one so young.”

“She needs a doctor,” Tits said.

Jonah jerked his head around to see Tits standing at his right shoulder. Then he glanced back at the strain on Katie’s face. “Yes, she does.”

“She’s really messed with you, dude,” Tits said casually.

Jonah lifted his head to stare at Tits. After a moment Tits shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

“I would hope that any woman treated so abominably would mess with any man,” he said tightly.

Tits nodded. “True enough. I’m just not used to seeing you so…”

“So what?”

Tits shook his head. “Nothing, man. Forget I said anything.”

Mad Dog shouted an all clear, and Jonah strode forward into the clearing where the helicopter would land shortly. On cue, the whop whop of an approaching chopper sounded from low over the horizon.

“Give me your shirt,” Jonah said to Mad Dog.

Mad Dog dropped his pack and shrugged out of his mesh button-up. He thrust it toward Jonah, and Jonah nodded his head down at Katie. Mad Dog carefully arranged it over her shivering body while Ian and Braden hovered close by.

Ian and Braden both wore expressions of men who’d been tortured a dozen times over. Jonah studied them, in awe over the fact that two men could both so obviously love the same woman. They made it seem so natural. Even Mad Dog and Tits hadn’t blinked an eye over it. Everyone just accepted it and went on.

Love was an interesting, multifaceted thing.

Jonah turned and shielded Katie’s body as the helicopter dipped and lowered several yards away. Mad Dog threw open the door and motioned for Tits, Ian and Braden to get in. Jonah walked slower, taking care not to jostle Katie. When he got close, Ian leaned over, his arms outstretched. Jonah relinquished her to the other man and turned to wait for Eli.

He simmered impatiently, checking his watch at five-minute intervals. He didn’t like having his team exposed, sitting ducks. He was getting antsy and impatient with each passing minute. After ten minutes, Eli strode from the jungle, a silver cylinder in his hand.

He hurried past Jonah and climbed into the waiting chopper. Jonah climbed in after him, and they lifted off.

Eli knelt on the floor in front of Ian. He picked up Katie’s hand and placed the canister against her palm. Then he gently pressed her fingers until she gripped it.

“You’ve left nothing of yours here, Katie,” Eli said in a low voice. “Do you understand?”

Tears filled her eyes once more. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Mad Dog pulled out a transmitter and yanked the antenna up.

“Take us low over the compound,” Mad Dog yelled toward the pilot. Then he glanced back at the others. “Let’s blow this joint, shall we?”

As they zoomed over, explosions rocked the air. The compound disappeared from sight as orange balls of flames shot skyward. Smoke billowed and clogged the air. For a long time, Jonah stared out the window as they got further away.

Esteban was dead and with him any secrets he harbored. D’s condition was a very uncertain thing. There was no miracle cure for him. No quick fix.

There was only Braden’s sudden ability to shift at will and retain the panther’s memories to give them any hope for the future. But was it a one-time aberration spawned by desperation? Or was it possible that the man might gain control over the beast?

Chapter Forty-Three

Katie slowly closed the journal and lowered it to her lap, her fingers trembling as she fiddled with the worn edges. She raised her head to stare out the window at the ocean spreading out as far as the eye could see.

The window was cracked so she could hear the waves rolling in. The sound soothed her and eased some of the hypersensitivity she still experienced from the chemical Esteban had exposed her to.

She stared back down at the journal and then closed her eyes against the fear that tightened her chest. With a sigh, she uncurled her legs and pulled herself out of the plush armchair that Ian and Braden had positioned by the window. The others would want to know what the journal contained. They would need to know.

Fatigue weighed heavily on her. She’d worn herself out gauging her every mood, analyzing each twinge, each shift in temperament. She lived in fear that at any moment, with no provocation, she could turn into a wild creature. Not knowing what she might change into was killing her.

Marcus knew what had happened to her. The others still did not. It was time to tell them everything.

She headed down the stairs of the south wing. The island estate was huge, with stairs from all the wings converging into a central foyer. Most of the time, however, the members of Falcon and CHR gathered in the game room. They weren’t opposed to a little imbibing and some pot smoking, and pool was always a hot commodity.

She paused inside the doorway, suddenly unsure of herself, of her place in this crew of mercenaries. They were tougher than her, more ruthless. She admired that, wished she embodied more of their traits.