He sighed and leaned down to speak close to her face. “Tell him. Tell him to do what I ask.”
Leo wanted to tell Elias not to give in, to yell at him to fight until the very last minute, not to give up, not to worry about her—she probably wouldn’t feel a thing—but she was afraid to move her mouth. And God, though it was tough to admit, she really didn’twantto be stabbed in the ear.
“Good,” the man said before Elias had even begun to move. As if he’d read his opponent and already knew it was a done deal. “Good lad,” he said with a breathless half laugh that made her sick to her stomach. “You two…” Another chuckle, this one weirdly affectionate. Like they were all friends here. Like they were just a few pals meeting up for a pint after a rough rugby match. “You two have run Deegan’s entire team ragged. Right, Deegan?”
She opened her eyes and focused through the animal fear on Elias tossing the rifle into the water, his hands going up just before the blond man rose and shoved him to his knees. “You’re dead,” he snarled, one hand on Elias’s collar, the other gearing up to punch him.
“Deegan,” the dark-haired one warned. “The client won’t be happy.” The weight on her back shifted and Leo shut her eyes hard.No, please.Something rustled—possibly from his pocket—he jostled her and yanked first one arm, then the other behind her back, put something around her wrists, and pulled tight. Though she felt nothing, she could only assume it was plastic cuffs. “Here. Restrain the giant.”
He threw one at the other man, Deegan, who sucked in an angry-sounding breath, shaking his head, then grabbed the handcuffs and roughly put them on Elias.
“Wasn’t hard, now, was it?” The man with the British accent was all friendly bonhomie. Leo’d never heard anything creepier in her life. He backed off of her entirely and stood up. “Now let’s get you warmed up. We’ve got lots to talk about.”
He smiled at Leo. Her teeth chattered loudly in response.
Behind his back, the other man hauled off and punched Elias in the face.
Which was the wrong thing to do.
***
Every cell in Elias’s body was throbbing—from pain, cold, fear. He couldn’t tell anymore. Didn’t fucking matter anyway.
The guy’s punch snapped him out of his stupor and made him mad—as hell.
These were bad men. The shit they’d do to them—to Leo—didn’t bear thinking about.
Elias would do anything to get her away. He’d take twelve more hits to the head, he’d jump into the falls, cut off his own fucking hand. Head roaring with the sound of rage and rushing water, he bent and used it like a battering ram, head-butting the big blond asshole in the solar plexus with every ounce of strength he had. The guy fell and Elias kicked. Again. Again, his body heating with the movement, nothing in his brain but pain—his, the other guy’s. It didn’t fucking matter. Nothing mattered but getting out.
Survival.
The man rolled, and Elias went after him. Kicked. Another kick. He needed to get these cuffs off. Needed to pummel him with his bare hands.
“Elias!” Leo screamed. “Behind you!”
Halfway through his turn, he dipped, got slammed with what felt like a sledgehammer to the head, and went down.
***
“Idiots!” Ash was angry. He’d had enough of Deegan’s stupidity. The big mystery man hadn’t listened either. He’d thought, after all the giant’s careful planning, that he at least would see reason. But no. Not a bit of it. And now there was blood everywhere, the men acting like beasts instead of civilized human beings.
He turned to find the woman on her knees, watching him, her stare the most threatening thing he’d seen in his life. Unease snaked down his spine. “I want to talk!” he bellowed at her. Hand shaking, he swiped his hair from his face and threw an arm behind him. “How isthattalking?”
“Your friend…” She put one foot on the ground. “Hit…” With obvious difficulty, she pushed up to standing. “Him.”
He could have knocked her over with a feather. And yet she wouldn’t stop. Like the bloody Terminator, she kept coming.
“He did.” Ash glanced at Deegan. “But he’s not my friend.”
Clearly unhappy with that response, she rushed him—no doubt slowed down by her dip in the frigid river. He sidestepped, slipped in behind her, wrapped his forearm around her neck, and pulled tight. “I don’t want to kill you. Understand? It’s not my objective. I want Turner. And I want what he has.”
She shook with something that couldn’t possibly be laughter. Cold, probably. “It’s…not…here.” Her teeth rattled. “Never…fucking…was.” Another bout of shaking, so hard he felt it to his core. “No Turner. No virus.”
He went still. “No virus?”
“It’s not here.”
“Where is it?” he asked, keeping his voice as level as possible.
