Wolfsbane (46 page)

“Just relax. We’re about ten klicks south of the city,” Max said, his voice calm and firm as he guided Canyon to the ground. “Sorry about the flash-bang.”

“A bit of a surprise.”

“It was necessary. Cowboy had his sights on too many tangos.”

Fingers pressed to his forehead—there was too much pain to pinch the bridge of his broken nose—Canyon hauled his brain, body, and emotions into focus. A strange chirruping bled into his awareness as he stared up at a starless night. Almost sounded like cicadas.

“Wait.” His heart rapid-fired as he looked at the men standing around. “My brother.”

“Your what?” A dark mass next to Max coalesced into the form of Legend.

Man, he couldn’t wait for his vision to clear completely. “My brother.” Canyon glanced around, blinking, straining through the darkness. “He was in the bed.”

“Oh.” Legend’s face fell. “Man, we didn’t know. We grabbed you and got out of there. No time to deliberate over the extra bodies.”

Canyon shoved to his feet. The world whipped around and tilted. He swung out a hand for balance.

“Easy,” Cowboy said with a chuckle as he braced him. “Ignore Legend. Your brother’s asleep over there.”

Amid Legend’s laugh, Canyon saw the bedrolled form on the ground. Slowly Canyon’s pulse evened out as his gaze connected with the general.
“Are you in love with my daughter?”

Canyon glared at Legend, who laughed behind a fisted hand. “You’re a riot.”

“Sorry.” Legend laughed again and nudged a laugh-tear from his eyes. “That was too rich to pass up.”

Cradling his head did little to alleviate the squall pummeling him. “What’re you guys doing here anyway?”

“We heard about this guy chasing some woman down to South America, trying to get himself killed,” Squirt said. “All half-cocked with no backup.”

“Not sure what he thinks he’s doing, going all Lone Ranger on us.” The Kid seemed to have grown up a few years as he sat next to Legend. “But it’s what we do. Of course, I’m missing a hot date chasing this rogue.”

“I had jury duty.” Squirt smirked.

“My nephew begged me to take him sailing.”

The taunting, meant to ease the tension, only increased Canyon’s. “I’m doing what’s right. I never asked you to come down here.”

Max frowned at him. “We work as a team, plan as a team, move as a team. Always.”

Elbows propped on his knees, Canyon peered from beneath his brows at the team leader. “A bit hard to do when you’re removed from said team.”

Hard, unmoving eyes held his. “You looking to get kicked off again?”

“That mean I’m back on the team?”

“Give the boy a cookie!” Legend clapped.

Silence held the moment captive. They seemed ready to move beyond what happened the last time they were in this godforsaken jungle. But Canyon wasn’t sure he was ready to let it go. He felt betrayed. Abandoned. Discarded.

Just like my dad
.

Grinding his molars, he steepled his fingers and looked down at his boots. Knots rolled through his shoulders and neck as he chose his words carefully. Threatening was pointless. Slowly he lifted his head and met the gaze of each team member. “You need to know where I stand. I’d never leave one of you behind, and I won’t leave her. I’m here till this is done, till Roark’s home.”

With a long sigh, Legend leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “Look, it needs to be said: None of us likes what happened. The mission got screwed up. Were we wrong to let them drag you out of there and leave her?” Legend shrugged. “God knows. Did we have a
choice?” Another shrug. “To me, no. I didn’t want to be pumped full of a drug and kill my ability to function. What they did to you was wrong. And they paid—thanks to Frogman’s fists.”

Surprise tugged Canyon back as he looked to Frogman, whose steady gaze met him. Max had fought someone? On his behalf?

“But right now, priority one is getting your girl back.” Legend’s deep voice rattled through the hot night air. “A divided team cannot succeed. Let’s put this behind us.”

It was the right thing to do no matter how the dice rolled.

A rustling to the side drew his attention. Sitting up, Range watched him—intently. So much so that Canyon heard an unspoken question of disbelief. His mind scissored back to Legend’s words. In fact, two words.
Your girl
.

And it hit him that his brother’s expression wasn’t intense curiosity, but rather fierce determination. A reminder that Canyon had promised to back off once they got home.

The guys would never understand the bargain he’d made out of desperation to find Roark. The thought of getting her back and letting her go flipped through his gut and struck a nerve that radiated from his brain to his heart. Maybe Roark would hold out for him.

Frogman’s eyes held a mischievous gleam. “You ready to do this?”

With a quiet resolution carving itself through Canyon’s soul, he nodded. He straightened and nodded again, this time stronger. “Let’s hit it.”

The first hint of a smile crossed Max’s face. “First—Old Man, we’ve got a rendezvous set up to get you out of here. No way we can do this with you down here.”

“I’m here. Let me be of use.”

“Sorry,” Max said. “You’ve blown our covers and any further exposure puts us another inch in the grave.”

Canyon watched the Old Man and saw an intense grief and vulnerability skate into the weathered features. Lambert held a secret almost as bad as Canyon’s. And the team didn’t know. Though he didn’t like the decision Frogman handed down, it was clear Lambert wouldn’t argue.

“Take Midas’s brother,” Max said.

“No!” Range’s voice shot through the discussion.

Max glared.

Legend pointed at Range and shook his head. “Sorry, little man, you don’t have a say. You’re a liability.”

Range hobbled over to Canyon, grunting as he held his splinted leg. “You can’t let them do this. I got you down here.”

Canyon clenched his jaw tight.

“Tell them.” Range leaned in closer. “You promised—”

“No.” White-hot fire spread down Canyon’s spine. “What I promised is that I’d back off once she was back home. What I didn’t promise was that you’d be on every aspect of the mission.” He jerked his brother aside as he looked at the others. “They’re right, Range. You’d slow us down, and you’d be a flaming beacon to the VFA.”

Range opened his mouth.

“Trust me.”

Conflicted eyes held his, but what Canyon saw almost leveled him.

“Why’d he call her ‘your girl’?”

Canyon swallowed, glancing to Legend, now engrossed in talks with Frogman and Squirt.

Range gripped Canyon’s vest. “So help me if you steal her—”

He slapped his brother’s hand free. “Back off, Range. I swore I’d give you room, and I’ll do it, even if it kills me.” Breathing was a chore. He glared at his little brother. “Not for you. For Roark. So she has a chance to say who she wants.”

His brother’s mouth gaped. “You … you really want her, don’t you?”

“What I want is Roark safe on American soil. Safe out of Bruzon’s hands.”

“You
are
in love with her.” Range shook his head. “Did you turn her away from me, Canyon?”

“What matters right now is that if you want her alive to make a decision, then you have to get out of the way.” His chest rose and fell hard as the words left his lips.

Torment colored Range’s face, even in the darkness. Finally through gritted teeth he said, “I don’t like this.”

Foul and rank, his displeasure pushed Canyon away from his brother. “Don’t have to.” He sure didn’t like the idea of rescuing Roark to bring her home to his brother. “This is the way it works.”

“It’s not your brother who I love, okay?”

Canyon fisted a hand. Would she still feel that way once he got her back? Or would she hate him eternally for deserting her? For—as she wrongly suggested—using her and leaving her?

And maybe it’d seal the coffin on their relationship.

“Gather up,” Max said. “Here’s the plan …”

Bruzon’s Estate, Venezuela 22 May

The door opened. Dani’s heart catapulted into her throat, choking. Hours ago, she’d thought Bruzon had finally come but it’d been a guard, retrieving something from an adjoining room. He sneered at her and left. She’d worked the letter opener on the cuffs, but to no avail.

Now that voices approached once more, she gripped the opener tighter—it slipped. She frowned and panicked as the handle grew slick in her sweaty palm. Couldn’t get a solid grasp. The door opened. She glanced back. At the hulk of a man towering over the threshold.

A scowl spread over Bruzon’s ruddy face. “What are you doing?” In that split second his gaze bounced from her face to her hands. His eyes bulged. “No!”

Dani whipped back to her task. She clasped both hands around the letter opener—

It slipped again. Plopped onto the pillow … slid out of view.

“No,” she gasped and dropped to her knees on the mattress to catch it.

A weight slammed into her back. Her cheek hit the headboard.
Thud!
Pain darted across her face and neck.

“You little witch!” Bruzon’s hand dug into her hair and yanked her head backward.

She wailed as he flopped her onto the bed, her hands twisted and anchored overhead. Her joints stretched and pulled.

“What? You think killing yourself will help?” Foul and reeking of liquor, his breath blew into her face. “It just makes you all the more fun.”

Dani recoiled. She kicked up her legs. Connected with the back of his head.

He cursed. But the action only seemed to invigorate him. A sick grin seeped into his jowls. Without mercy, he ripped her shirt off. Like tearing toilet paper, the arms detached from the rest of the material due to her restraints.

Feeling the chilled air-conditioned air against her bare abdomen speared her with panic. Dani screamed and thrashed. The shackles sliced into her soft flesh, searing, but the pain didn’t come within a mile of what radiated through her soul. If she didn’t stop him … “No!” Hair
tangled over her wet face. Heat rushed through her face, embarrassment bleeding into fury. “Get off me!”

He clapped a hand over her mouth.

Dani chomped into his palm.

He cursed again. Smacked her hard. The sting stirred her conviction to escape. Gone was the girl who believed compliance would make the bad things stop. Gone was the girl who clung to vain hope that someone would save her. In many ways, she found the girl she’d lost a year ago. Nobody saved her. Not back then. Not today—especially not Canyon.

Besides, she would not be Bruzon’s pleasure toy. She wouldn’t endure him. Ever. Again. “You stinking, fat pig.” She arched her back and rocked her body to dislodge his weight.

Bruzon pawed at her, determined to have his way. He dropped on her, a breathy, sickening laugh seeping though his chest.

Dani railed at the feeling of his hands running over her body. Over her will. Then, like from an old dragon, came a fiery, smothering sensation. She remembered it—fear drowning her in panic. If she didn’t somehow regain control of herself, of her fear, she’d pass out. Just as she had dozens of times before as his captive. If she yielded to this, he could do whatever he wanted. Dani again thrust her legs into his head.

Muttering more curses, Bruzon wrestled, grunting as he battled to secure her beneath his bulk. He hauled back and punched her.

Stars and spots leapt into her vision. But in the second that his hands went to the button on her jeans she jolted out of it. Yet her strength was failing, the energy pouring out of her limbs. “No! Please, no …” She was losing … A whimper.

Bruzon leered at her.

Distant shouts stilled the beast atop her.

“General! General!” a man’s yell carried through the house, probably from the stairs—feet pounded against the wood … closer. . closer still.

Bruzon launched off the bed and rushed across the room. He flung open the door.
“¿Qué pasó?”

“Sir.” Navas appeared and looked into the room at her.

Cold shame turned Dani away, cowering in her bra and jeans. Her gaze hit something near the fireplace. What? A bottle. It wasn’t just a bottle, but a
vinegar
bottle. Maybe the servant had been cleaning the smoke stains from the fireplace.

Hope surged within her tactical brain, and she knew in that second she might have a way out of here. Her gaze jumped to the metal keyhole on the marble mantel. Gas powered.
Yes!

Now to find peroxide. Dani curled into the headboard. Ignoring the blood streaking down her arm, she pushed wet, matted hair from her face to see into the bathroom.

“What is it?” Bruzon demanded.

“It’s Catalina. She’s … gone. Escaped.”

His wife? Bruzon’s wife
escaped?
What did that mean? Why would someone’s wife escape? Okay, stupid question. Anyone with a brain would want to flee that man. Regardless, Dani needed peroxide. Combined with the vinegar, the peroxide provided the hope of creating an ignition source—of course, she’d need fire, which she hoped to get from the gas fireplace and a spark …

“Find her!” Bruzon stuffed his hands into his shirt as he stepped out of the room and pulled the door closed.