Standing on the wooden deck that ran along two sides of the training area, Braden winced. Poor Dreya was spattered with so much paintball dye, she was starting to look like a piece of modern art. Dreya scowled at the curly-haired guy on her left, as if the latest splash of color on her uniform was his fault.
“Don’t blame Michael,” Danica said. “He was covering your right side just fine, but you didn’t trust him, so you turned around to make sure. That means your left side was open, and that’s how Clayne was able to get you so easily. It’s how he and Tanner have been beating you all day.”
Dreya turned and slowly stomped back to the start of the fire and maneuver course, checking her paintball rifle as she went. Danica and Clayne had been pushing Dreya hard since leaving the gym, and she looked beat.
The morning had started off easy enough with a small obstacle course, which had ended up being a flat-out joke. Dreya had maneuvered around the low walls, run along the balance beams, and navigated the monkey bars like they weren’t even there. When she was finished, they gave her a heavy backpack to wear and had her do it again. The pack had slowed her down a little bit, but it wasn’t until they paired her up with another person on the course that she’d truly started having problems.
Dreya simply had no idea how to work with a partner. She’d climb up and over a seven-foot-high wall, then take off running for the next obstacle. That’s when Danica or Sabrina would yell at her to go back and get her partner. And when she couldn’t make it work with one guy, they brought in another. Her latest partner—Michael—was the fourth they’d tried to pair her up with, and he wasn’t working out any better than the others.
It was getting hard to watch.
From all the second-story jobs she’d been able to pull over the years, Braden had always known Dreya was in great shape, and seeing her climb that apartment building the other night had only convinced him she was even stronger than he’d thought. But this kind of sustained, grinding effort wasn’t something Dreya was built for. She was born to be a cheetah, not a bull.
Braden was surprised Dreya hadn’t tossed her paintball rifle into the woods and said the hell with it already. She made a living designing jewelry and stealing stuff, not playing war games, but his little thief was turning out to be a lot tougher than he’d given her credit for.
“Move through the course like you did before,” Danica instructed when Dreya and Michael were in position. “Cover each other’s blind spots, then get to the tower at the far end of the lane without Clayne or Tanner hitting you again.”
Danica made it sound easy, as if getting through the course of berms, walls, trees, and culverts was a stroll in the park. But strolls in the park didn’t normally include two guys like Clayne and Tanner taking pot shots at you with paintball guns. Clayne was intimidating, but with that wild mane of hair and those intense eyes, Tanner looked even scarier. And they were both fast as hell. The two of them could probably run down Olympic sprinters if they wanted to—then eat them.
“You’re going to have to move faster this time, Dreya,” Danica added. “Michael can cover your back, but you need to be the one figuring where Clayne and Tanner are coming from. You’re going to have to use those instincts we both know you have.”
Braden frowned. What kind of instincts did Danica think Dreya had? The woman was a thief, not a cop. Or a soldier. But after casting a quick glance at Braden, Dreya took a deep breath and nodded.
When Danica shouted for them to start, Dreya darted for the protection of the nearest dirt berm faster than he’d ever seen her move, then threw herself to the ground behind it so hard, Braden could hear her hit the dirt. She got up, motioning Michael to the right as she swung wide left to cover him and most of the open real estate between her and the tower at the end of the course.
Braden’s jaw dropped open as Dreya hurtled first over a five-foot-high wall, then a ditch that had to be four feet across. She kept her head on a swivel the whole time, keeping track of Michael while at the same time looking out for Clayne and Tanner.
Out of the corner of his eye, Braden saw a flash of movement to his left. Dreya saw it, too, and immediately turned to run in that direction. Tanner came out from behind the trees where he’d been hiding, sprinting toward her, his lips pulled back in a snarl.
Braden gripped the wood railing, holding onto it so tightly, his knuckles turned white. He expected Dreya to take cover so she could protect herself while still getting a clean shot off, but instead, she attacked.
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised when she charged forward with a growl of her own, him or Tanner. The guy dropped to his knees and slid along the rough ground as he brought his rifle up to his shoulder and fired.
Braden couldn’t imagine how the guy could possibly miss her, but Dreya threw herself sideways at the last minute so that the paintball zipped past her by mere inches. He wasn’t sure how she did it, but Dreya kept her balance when she landed, then snapped her weapon up and stitched a line of green dye spots all the way up the front of Tanner’s chest from crotch to collar.
Damn.
Dreya didn’t have time to celebrate, because Michael called out for backup. She spun on a dime and raced toward her partner, where Clayne had him trapped behind a waist-high wall. Michael was trying to reload his weapon even as Clayne moved around the wall to get into position for the kill shot. There was no way Dreya would be able to get there in time to do anything about it. She’d finally taken out one of the opposition, but her partner was going to get taken out anyway.
Braden knew exactly how much that sucked.
Dreya clearly wasn’t ready to accept defeat. She sprinted across the width of the course, leaping over walls and ditches, moving faster than he would have ever imagined possible. Even so, she was still fifty feet away when Clayne stepped around the wall and took aim at Michael.
Then Dreya did something impossible—and completely insane. Instead of running around the dirt berm that separated her from the two men, she ran right up the side of it at full speed and launched herself off the top.
Clayne spun at the last second and tried to hit her on the fly, but Dreya twisted in the air again, avoiding the paintballs and getting off three shots, catching Clayne square in the center of the chest.
But while Dreya had taken out Clayne, she paid the price for her insane leap off the berm. She smashed into the dirt hip first, and from where he stood, Braden could hear the breath explode out of her body as she tumbled across the ground.
Braden leaped over the railing and was running for Dreya before she’d even slid to a stop.
Shit, this was going to be bad.
Dreya pushed herself to her knees with a groan.
“Don’t move!” he said urgently, sliding to the ground beside her.
Braden couldn’t believe she was even up and moving after a tumble like that. She should have been unconscious at the very least.
