“Kane wouldn’t try to hurt you,” she argued.
“Dammit, Merinus, the bastard has enough sense to know that an animal is fucking his baby sister. He was furious on the phone. If it were me, I would have already killed him.” She flushed at the knowledge. Of course Kane would know, but still, she couldn’t see him rushing in and doing anything so impulsive without assessing the situation first. It just wasn’t like him. But she didn’t have the breath to argue further with him. He was moving them quickly through the passageway, his steps silent as she fought to keep her own movements just as quiet. Her boots were soft-soled, but still there was a shuffle, a scrape of leather over stone that seemed to echo around her.
It seemed they strode though endless miles of weathered stone before he slowed the fast walk they were in. He began to move slower, easing her through the corridor, his head tilted as he listened carefully.
“We’re getting ready to move out of the tunnel. I want you to stay quiet, Merinus and stay right behind me,” he warned her as he stopped and laid his mouth at her ear to speak. “No matter what I tell you to do, you do it, and do it quickly. Do you understand?”
His voice was quiet again, that throb of savagery in it making her heart beat out of control. She nodded her head quickly as he glanced back at her. His eyes glittered in the darkness, a dull gold, furious, cold.
He extinguished the penlight and eased around a corner, moving silently toward the dim light ahead. He stilled, his fingers going to her lips as his head tilted, listening intently. He pushed her against the wall, indicating she should stay there, stay silent.
He was going on without her. Merinus shook her head violently, her fingers gripping his arms. Then she heard a sound, a shuffle of feet, a light scrape against stone. Her eyes widened, terror flooding through her. Callan’s eyes narrowed as he pushed her tighter into the stone, a warning in his expression as he pulled the gun from his belt and began to move away from her.
Merinus took a deep, silent breath. She fought to keep her breathing normal, her heart rate slower. She couldn’t hear anything past the desperate drum of blood rushing through her body. She was terrified. Her own fear was like a separate entity choking her, strangling the breath in her throat as Callan moved silently away from her. She watched his face, seeing the cold threat in his expression. This wasn’t the lover she had known in the past days, or the teasing, elusive prey she had stalked the weeks before.
Callan was now the creature those damned scientists had created. Cold, hard, his body primed and ready to fight.
Stay! He mouthed silently.
She nodded, unwilling to worry him. Kane had warned her many times of the danger of a soldier allowing his concentration to fracture under fire. He had to be able to fight without the baggage of internal or emotional conflict. She pressed herself tighter against the stone, watching him desperately, praying he knew she would stay put as he warned her to.
He smiled softly, approvingly, then disappeared from sight as a tear fell from her eye.
* * * * *
Callan could smell them despite the camouflaging scent they stupidly thought would mask their presence from him. There was no way to hide the stink of sweat and the desire to kill. They were good, he gave them that. Had it not been for the smell, he would have never known they were there before he heard the shuffle of feet. And that would have been masked by his own rush through the corridor. The men sent after him were well trained and determined. A hazard. Taber and Tanner were still on the other side of the caves ensuring Sherra and Doc Martin’s escape.
There would be no help there. Only God knew where Dayan was. As usual, he had disappeared when trouble came calling. There were three of the soldiers waiting for him in the small cave where the corridor emptied out. The good thing was that they seemed to think they would hear him in time to react. They weren’t hidden, rather in plain sight.
Callan slid a hunting knife from the sheath at his thigh, palmed it carefully, then stepped into view. The weapon went flying into the shoulder of the man whose weapon came up first. He dropped to the ground as Callan turned his gun on the other two, another knife whipping from sheath to hand and flying to the arm of another.
“I don’t want to kill you bastards, but I will,” he announced softly, his gun trained on the injured, more than surprised soldiers. He looked to the last one left standing, watching coldly as the man held his hands carefully at shoulder height.
“We’re not here to kill you, Lyons. We just want the girl.” The surprising statement had Callan growling low, dangerous.
“Why would you want the girl?” he asked him softly.
The soldier shrugged. “Council orders. They didn’t give a shit about you on this one.” Could the Council know? How could they have known unless Kane had relayed the call to them?
“Throw me the restraints.” Callan indicated the plastic ties the soldier carried in his belt.
He moved carefully. Callan saw the bunch of his muscles, the intent in his eyes. He pulled the last knife, aiming it as the soldier stilled.
“The next bastard who tries gets it in the heart,” he warned them. “Now do as I said, real damn careful.” The restraints landed at his feet. He threw two back to the standing soldier.
“Take care of your buddies.” He watched impassively as the ties were placed over the soldiers’ wrists then jerked tight, but not tight enough to restrict blood flow. “Sit down. Hands behind your back.” Callan waved the gun at him, indicating the floor.
They sighed and did as he ordered.
“Why do they want the girl?” He repeated the question as he restrained the soldier, then placed the straps on the feet of all three men. “And answer me this time or you’ll shed blood, too.” He could hear the gnash of teeth. They had been taken out efficiently, easily. It wouldn’t look good on their records.
“All I have are the orders.” The soldier shrugged, his weather beaten face resigned. “We don’t know why they want her. Just that she’s your woman, and they now consider her Council property.” Rage burned in Callan’s stomach. Council property. Disposable merchandise. If they knew Merinus was his woman then her life was in more danger than his was at the moment. He moved around the men, pulling lethal knives from hidden sheaths and boot straps. Little daggers came from under shirt collars and shoved in sheaths beneath shirtsleeves. There were a million places to hide a weapon and he could only hope he found those the soldiers carried.
“When did the order go through?” Callan asked him, his voice hard.
“Late last night. We were rushed in on a Council jet and brought here.”
“Where were you rushed from?”