Uncharted by Adriana Anders

Chapter 21

Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground, full of the smell of rotting leaves and mud, fresh green growth in there somewhere, poised and ready, though it had yet to pop. She followed him down, pointedly ignoring the way he watched her—like if he blinked, she’d disappear—and got to work.

Instead of shutting his eyes through the painful application of antiseptic, he kept them wide-open, losing focus in the treetops halfway through the bandaging process.

“Lift.”

He obeyed, held himself up while she wrapped a bandage around his middle, and settled back down, waiting for her to finish.

Which took forever. Her hands smoothed the tape, her fingers tested the edges, lingered…

When his surprised gaze met hers, there was a challenge in her expression.

Somewhere far away, the helicopter’s engine growled, back within earshot. Or maybe it was just that his ears suddenly worked again.

He ignored it. Not blinking, not breathing. Just waiting, watching, his skin prickling, antsy with cold and anticipation.

The air was different, muskier, more alive than it had been in forever—with movement and scents, sounds, and a light, chilly breeze. Birds cawed to the west, just over the crest of this mountain, while the aircraft circled back from the east. They’d have to land on top of him to get him to move right now.

“Do it.” His voice was a raw, open thing, more vulnerable than the wound she’d just covered. Want wasn’t something he allowed himself. Wasn’t much point when everything worth wanting was out of reach.

Only it wasn’t right now. It was right here. And he couldn’t remember wanting like this—ever.

He put out his hand, let his fingers curl around her perfect ear, let them drag along the soft, brown skin. He gently pinched the lobe, testing its softness, before cupping her ear again, the fleshy part of his palm flush with her jaw.

Her eyelids dropped, opened, stayed at half-mast, and then, like a dream he’d wake up from feeling empty and lost, she pushed back, giving him the weight of her head, the curve of her cheek.

She lowered her head.

“One kiss.” The words were a hot breath on his belly, fanning his hair, tightening his abs.

Instead of rising over him and planting those lips on his, she dipped, paused, burned a path over his skin with her eyes, then pressed her mouth right where his pants ended low on his hips.

***

Leo had had no intention of doing any of this. She’d planned on bussing his cheek, just to tease him, maybe to motivate.

She most definitely hadn’t meant to put her mouth in this prematurely intimate place, where his happy trail disappeared, not here against his smooth, fragrant skin. Not in the wild, on the damp ground while the helo swooped toward them like a marauding bird of prey. It was so close now, she felt the thrum through her knees, the ground, his midsection.

Still, she didn’t lift her head, couldn’t draw away.

It might have been his scent that made her act like an idiot. Or maybe these fascinating muscles—born of the hard labor of a life lived alone. It could have been the sweet, high pink she’d seen in his cheeks before she’d lowered her face, telling her just how much he’d wanted this.

But she knew it wasn’t any of those that made her do this stupid, stupid thing. It wasn’t the light, crisp nap of his hair that made her put her tongue to skin and taste. It wasn’t the way his rough fingers cradled her ear—gently, like she was something fragile to be cared for and worried about. Taken care of, instead of doing the caring, which had always been her role.

No, she admitted, behind the safe haven of her own closed lids, what had sent her to this unexpected place was the look in his eyes. The man may have been close to forty, with the wear and tear to prove it, but his expression when she’d hovered over him had been so raw, so earnest, the yearning so pure and close to the surface, that she’d have done anything for him in that moment, given him whatever the hell he’d wanted.

The sound of the aircraft above was almost deafening, as if the bastards were homing right in on their perch here. And instead of running, she was tasting him.

What an absolute fool.

The sound grew louder, forcing her to put a hand to the cold, wet ground and press up, half expecting him to urge her back down. Something like disappointment washed through her when he took his touch away. As soon as she gave him space, he rolled to his side and sat, his body moving fast, though his eyes watched her as if they had all the time in the world.

She couldn’t seem to move, despite doom’s pressing arrival. If she moved, it would be over—the moment gone, blown apart by stark reality.

Once he’d reached standing, he offered his hand, casting his eyes to the sky. He didn’t have to tell her they’d be seen under these sparse branches. Christ, this day had taught her exactly how it felt to be the prey on the ground, scurrying like hamsters in a maze. She accepted his firm grip, wishing she could feel something aside from rough gloves, and let him pull her up, almost against him. Another second was wasted while she soaked up his closeness—her chest near enough to his to feel the heat, his height making her feel small, though she wasn’t.

Together, they dragged his pack into the shelter of the alder shrubs, sinking into the devil’s club’s spiny embrace.

They were camouflaged enough. She hoped.

She turned. What was missing? Something was wrong.

“See Bo?” Elias’s voice rumbled.

Thatwas it. She shot a quick look around. “No.”

“Shit.”

With a suddenness that felt almost apocalyptic, the helicopter blotted out the sunlight, its shadow taking over the mountainside like a biblical swarm of insects. She’d never shied away from the end before—always looked it right in the eye—yet something pushed Leo to tuck her head into the crook of Elias’s shoulder and close her eyes.

His arm wrapped around her—not tightly, but present, as if he already understood how she worked. She should push him away and stand on her own. She should burst this bubble she’d somehow created between them. It was dangerous to let herself want something this badly.

“Bo!” Elias hissed, bringing her back to reality with a jolt.

***

Where the hell was she?

Elias scanned the woods around them, seeing nothing but snow and mud, tall, straight trunks, a practically sheer rock face to the north, more forest to the west, and—

His eyes skidded, returning to where they’d spotted movement.

Oh no.

“What is it?” Leo half yelled through the aircraft’s roar.

He glanced down at her, surprised that she’d picked up on his anxiety. Although she could probably feel his heart thumping against her face. He lifted his chin to the ridge opposite. No point trying to talk above the engine noise now.

Slowly, Leo turned, her big, intelligent eyes scanning everything. He felt her jolt the moment she caught sight of their problem—problems, actually.

About thirty yards ahead, through the woods, the ground appeared to slope gently and then rise again. There, just about level with them, a large, white, fluffy horned mountain goat and its kid perched on a ledge.

“Wait here,” he hollered, already moving in that direction. He let out a short, low whistle. “Borealis!” Maybe she hadn’t tried to stalk the goats. Maybe she’d run back into the woods after a squirrel or something. Yeah right. What squirrel?

The helicopter drew closer, so near now he could feel the vibration in his bones. Something moved to his right: Leo, running beside him.

“Don’t come,” he yelled over the din. “Wait here.”

She didn’t bother looking at him, just kept pace.

Closer to the promontory, the trees grew sparse, the ground rocky, the slope steep and slippery and—

He threw out an arm just as his boot hit the edge of a massive boulder, cragged and pitted by time. Leo bumped into it and went still. There was no cover here—just air above them. They’d be seen if the helicopter flew this way. “Go back!” he yelled, dropping and crawling to the end. He barely registered the cocktail of fear and adrenaline and anger running through him. Anger at Bo for running after an animal—again. Anger at himself for not training her. Of course, huskies did whatever the hell they wanted anyway, so it hadn’t really been an option.

Or the point, really. She wasn’t a tool. She was a companion. Just two beings living out here on their own, together.

At the edge, he caught a flash of white and gray, about eight feet down, and the emotions coalesced into relief, so strong he’d probably collapse when this was over. No time to rest now.

She’d obviously picked her way down to a shelf and, being a dog, not the mountain goat she thought she was, hadn’t managed to climb up again. A few precious seconds of intense scrutiny showed him footholds and handholds and a crack he could wedge himself into. Without hesitating, he levered his legs over the side and made the climb—quickly.

Almost to the shelf, he glanced up, unsure if he’d rather see Leo’s face looking down at him or not.

She was there, crouched at the edge, eyes on him and then up at the sky. “They’re close!”

He shifted his weight. Another couple feet to go. The aircraft seemed headed right their way, the air changing, his eardrums thrumming with the rhythm. A final stretch down and he’d made it to Bo’s ledge, which was hopefully sturdy enough to hold both their weights.

A glance up showed that Leo had disappeared. He could only hope she’d found shelter before the chopper reached them.

Bo bumped his leg with her head and probably whined, though he couldn’t hear it. Across the chasm, the goat had disappeared in the way of mountain goats in high places. Above, the leaves flapped madly. Close. Too damned close. This was it. There was nowhere to go. No hiding place. Bo’s bright fur was sure to be spotted.

The aircraft’s shadow seeped into sight and in the next moment, Elias’s fear sloughed off like a second skin. His moves were quick and instinctual. Left foot shoved into the crack, weight balanced, he bent and grabbed Bo around the middle. Hauling her up and into his arms, he pressed her to the rock with his body, bent his head, and hoped his coat and dark hair would be camouflage enough. He wouldn’t look up, didn’t dare move, though he could have sworn he felt the shadow’s dark reach.

At some point, he started counting, since his ears could no longer tell the difference between right above and moving away. He made it to ten, fifteen, up to thirty… Each number felt like a step climbed, a level achieved, another year in a decade of being alone.

By the time fifty rolled around, he could hear his breath beating against cold stone, could feel his fingers digging too hard into Bo’s ribs, could feel the hard rock like a vise around his foot. Hopefully he hadn’t shoved it in there too hard. He’d hate to leave the boot behind. Or his damn toes.

Something like laughter expanded his chest, though he couldn’t see the humor in any of this. He did it again, this time apparently waking Bo from her own stupor. She tried wriggling and he tightened his hold, not even wanting to know how far they’d fall if she moved in earnest.

“Holy shit.” Leo’s voice reached him from above. He couldn’t lean back, wouldn’t dare to look for fear of dislodging this whole exercise in physics. “What do you need?”

He blinked. Need? A goddamn crane to lift them out.

“Rope? Would that help? I brought your pack.”

He blinked, his eyes focusing on the gray and brown and white composite he leaned on. “Can you tie a rope? To a tree, maybe?”

“There’s a harness.”

A harness. Of course. He nodded, unsure if she could see him.

“Okay. Be right back.”

For the first time in as long as he could remember, something warm seeped inside—not physically. Hell, suspended up here, he couldn’t do much more than follow a vein in the granite with his eyes and hope his body could hold on. Hot and cold meant nothing in this moment. But he felt it nonetheless. A change, solid and reassuring as his mom’s hand in his as a child.

“Heads up!” Leo yelled, and by the time he managed to tilt his head back and adjust his vision to something more than an inch away, she’d sent Bo’s harness down on a line. It bumped his shoulder and went lower.

Slowly, he bent and whispered a good girl into Bo’s ear, aware of the thumping of her heart against his arm. Easing his right foot to the side, shifting his weight, and moving his arm away with his torso while keeping her in place were the three hardest things he’d ever done, but he had backup. As long as the helicopter didn’t return, he could do this. They. They could do this. “Wanna go rock climbing?” he whispered, grasping the thick nylon and quickly slipping the first straps to clip around Bo’s head. He pulled her front leg through, then slipped the other straps around her torso. A slight turn, another move, then onto her legs. “Going rock climbing, Borealis. You love climbing.”

After what felt like a lifetime of threading and tightening straps, choppy breathing, and promises to a god he no longer believed in, he got her in. “She’s ready!” he called, still holding the dog’s weight.

“Okay. I’ve got her.”

Time to trust.

He shut his eyes, hard, not bothering to pray before sliding to the side and finally letting her go. After an initial drop of maybe half three inches, Bo whined and started rising.

She disappeared above. He pulled his foot from the crack, not allowing the relief to seep in yet, and climbed the few yards to the top.

“Come on.” Leo grabbed his hand and helped him to standing. Without waiting, she turned and walked into the shelter of the trees. Bo slunk along beside her, throwing him the same big-eyed look she got when he berated her for rolling in a stinky carcass or animal shit.

He tried to breathe and found his chest too tight, his throat constricted. Was the helicopter coming back? A wild look up showed him nothing but sky.

Gone. For now.

Under the trees, he sucked in deep, the oxygen hit his lungs hard.

Automatically, he slid his fingers into the fur at the nape of Bo’s neck, startled to find Leo’s hand already there. After a beat, he shifted away.

Though part of him wanted to shut his eyes on this whole damned thing, sink to the ground and hole up in the underbrush forever, he turned, seeking…

Leo’s wide-open gaze hit him with a jolt, sucked him in, and held him up like a life raft.

Fear might have drawn them together, but something entirely different sizzled in its aftermath.

The thrill of having a teammate. Of being someone’s partner.

And then, because he’d never been a liar—at least not to himself—he admitted to that other thing—the thing that led to kisses from a near stranger, on the belly, lying on the wet, cold ground, ignoring the danger hovering over them like an angel of death.

Was it just adrenaline making them act like horny teenagers who needed to do things now? Or was it something else? A need to feel each other’s life force, to know they were alive? Maybe some throwback to the cavemen, some now-or-never instinct telling him the beast was gone and this might be his only chance to spread his seed.

Never mind. What was the point in worrying when they truly could be shot down any second? Dragged away? Tortured? He dug his hand deeper into the warm nest of Bo’s fur and Leo’s skin, reached out to curl his fingers around her slender neck, and pulled her in for a real kiss.

The first touch was surprisingly cool, given how electric their connection was. He pressed harder, crushed those tender lips with his hard ones, and took. Or gave. Shared.

Fuck, he didn’t know.

The aircraft went far, farther. Or did it come near? He’d look, but every muscle was straining to get closer to Leo.

Air burst from his lungs when she angled her head and moved her mouth, opened it, licked him, pushed him against the trunk, moaned. Obliterated him with tiny movements.

The tree held him up, and the bark, rough and solid against the back of his head, kept him here, in reality. The rotors somewhere above tore up the air like a storm—the wind and sound and tension a rush like nothing he’d felt in his life.

Or was that the beating of his own damn heart? Were they gone? Did it even matter?

It was unreal how hard he was, how jacked up, how absolutely frenzied. Pain and fear and excitement mixed with adrenaline and craving, the cocktail blasting through him—them—pushing him to do things he’d never consider in his real life.

Oh yeah? a voice asked, from deep in his messed-up brain. Which life is that? Playing football in college? Throwing his weight around as a federal marshal? Wasting his time loving the ex-fiancé who’d dumped him when things went bad?

Real was this. Mud and sky, snow and rotting leaves. Hot, biting kisses against sandpaper bark, danger and lust and something deep and raw and too fresh to look at.

He didn’t just throw caution to the wind when he reached for her now; he slung it wide and watched it shatter—the explosion a climax he’d been awaiting for years—decades that felt like centuries. So long he’d become one with his surroundings, died every winter to be reborn in the spring along with the rest of this place.

He hardly registered her hands at his waist, struggling to unbutton his pants. All he felt was the soft, warm give of her mouth as his tongue tasted, teased, fought with hers. Teeth parried, noses sucked each other in.

There was no question of where this would end, no doubt in his mind that he’d be inside her within seconds. How could he not? Everything frantic and needy and animalistic in him wanted this—now. And what was he if not an animal?

No.

He wrenched his head away, breathing hard.

“Shouldn’t do this.”

“I need this.” She sounded like she’d just run a marathon. Out of breath and dazed. “Lift me up and I’ll—”

He put his hand out, stopping her, and then stared at its placement. Not on her chest exactly, but higher, at the cusp of her neck, the fingers spread wide. If she were an enemy, it would be awfully close to a chokehold, but given that they were on the same side, and that they’d been sucking face seconds before, there was something unbearably intimate in the way he held her at bay.

Her eyes rolled down to his arm and rose again, her expression vague at first, then slowly clearing, like she’d just awakened from a fugue state. Which was how he felt, except he couldn’t claim a second of memory loss.

He remembered everything.

“What the hell?” Her whisper came out slurred, almost drunk.

“Don’t know.”

She blinked, her eyes clearer now that the lust fog had dissipated.

“Better”—he worked to catch his breath—“keep moving.”

“Right.” She nodded. “We need to warn Campbell Turner and keep the virus out of the wrong hands.”

Just hearing the name—Campbell Turner—sent a wave of hopelessness through him. He cleared his throat of the guilt. “Actually, we can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Her gaze sharpened, losing the last vestiges of lust.

No way could he keep the truth from her now—not with what they’d lived through together. Not with the way she made him feel. “Can’t see him at all.”

“Why not?” Her voice was careful, deceptively calm.

“He’s dead.” The words didn’t feel right on his tongue. Christ, it wasn’t easy to admit, even after all this time.

She blinked. “And the virus?”

His mouth opened and shut a couple of times before the truth came out. “There is no virus.”

***

Amka could use a nap. After feeding the dogs, she’d taken Marion and the kids to Ila’s cabin on the other side of the lake. She left them with several sat phones and instructions to keep calling Leo’s friends until they got through. But there was work to do. Jackasses to destroy.

A town to take back.

A voice crackled unintelligibly in the little communications device she’d stuck in her ear. After cleaning it, obviously. Lord only knew what kind of cooties these people’d brought with ’em from the lower forty-eight.

When the question came again, she figured it was meant for the woman she and Marion had left trussed up in the shed. Knowing their prisoner would freeze to death in there, they’d piled her up with blankets and furs and tied her down so she couldn’t move.

Now, back at Marion’s place, Amka pushed the little button and replied with a mumble of her own. There. They could have fun trying to understand that.

At the next communication, she did it again and when they replied, sounding annoyed, she pushed the button a couple more times so they’d think their devices weren’t working. Then she settled back against the side of the shed to wait.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, an ATV started up.

Grunting with the effort, she heaved herself away from the clapboard siding and went back into the shed.

The ATV drew closer, and she watched through the crack in the open door as two men pulled up in front of the house. They signaled silently to each other before splitting up—one moving to the back and the other to the front. Once they’d gone in, she waddled out into the yard, exaggerating her limp and doing her best to look old and frail—which wasn’t in fact all that hard.

By the time she arrived at the porch, one of the men was there to meet her. She smiled and nodded, speaking the few words of Ahtna she remembered from her great-grandma. Didn’t even know what it meant, but she thought some of it might be dirty from the way Granny’d laughed when the kids repeated it.

The man remained expressionless, while his eyes swung to the side a few times—looking for help, probably. Backup for an old woman.

She’d have laughed if it weren’t so true.

“Could you help me with this, sir? I seem to have lost my—”

Though his gun was out and up, he didn’t see the bear spray until it was too damn late. He was down, covering himself and trying to breathe, in too much pain to warn his partner. She fumbled with the tranquilizer gun and almost lost her hold. Her pulse picked up a bit when the sound of heavy boots running reached her, but she kept her cool and just had time to turn the gun before the other one could wrench her arms behind her back.