“We need to find a place for you to stay with Grace while we scout,” Diego said. “That’s our first priority.”

Terrence nodded his agreement.

Rio glanced over his shoulder but he sensed that Grace had slipped under again, no longer aware or maybe no longer caring of her surroundings. He knew he had to move fast. He didn’t have much time because she was fading more rapidly by the minute.

“You hang in there, Grace,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare give up.”

She didn’t even stir. Rio’s men gathered in a tight perimeter and they struck out again, this time heading back up in elevation and away from where the SUVs were parked.

Terrence fell in beside Rio and murmured in a low voice, “I can radio Sam. Tell him what’s up. Ask for backup. He could send a helo in. Might take the better part of a day but we’d be out of here.”

Rio knew the best thing, the right thing, was to report back to his boss. If he had such a thing. True, he worked for KGI. His men technically worked for KGI. But Rio was his own man and his men were loyal to him. They went where he went. Followed his orders.

His gut told him he didn’t entirely trust the situation at the KGI compound. Resnick was involved. Their CIA contact was up to his ears in the mess with Grace and her sister, Shea, only Rio didn’t know to what extent.

But he had a bad feeling, a very bad feeling, and it was why he hadn’t yet reported in to Sam about their progress or that they’d been close to recovering Grace. Part of his reasoning was that he hadn’t wanted to get Shea Peterson’s hopes up. She was desperate to locate her sister, and Rio had made her a promise. Her. Not Sam. Not KGI. He’d promised Shea that he’d keep her sister safe.

He blew out his breath. If he called in KGI, they’d most assuredly come. But he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling thatelyfeeling it wasn’t what was best for Grace. Each time he started to agree and tell Terrence to check in with Sam, get the ball rolling, his stomach coiled into a knot and his instincts screamed at him to stand down.

“I’ll make the call,” Rio finally said. He had to talk to Sam himself. Had to know what was going on and why he was so reluctant to relinquish Grace into someone else’s care.

Right now he only wanted a place he could make Grace more comfortable and hopefully start the healing process. She wasn’t going to give in. He’d bully her mercilessly if that’s what it took, but over his dead body was he going to lose her now that he’d finally taken her from the people who’d done so much damage to her body and mind.

For the next hour, they climbed higher. The sun was starting its slow descent and the air grew cooler the higher they went.

“There,” Diego called, holding his hand up to halt the others.

Diego pointed to a series of large boulders jutting upward from the ground. Resting against the side of a steep cliff, the boulders provided a natural shelter. The cliff wall provided cover from behind with no possible access. The only way in or out was the front and Rio could easily pick off anyone coming hundreds of yards away.

“Help me get her down,” Rio said, crisp urgency in his voice.

Browning and Alton hurried to unwind the bonds securing Grace to his back. Decker and Terrence lifted her weight and eased her away. Rio stretched his aching shoulders and then hurried into the natural enclosure.

Diego tossed him his pack holding medical supplies and two canteens of water. Terrence pulled the sat phone from his pack and laid it on the ground beside the sleeping bag Browning tossed down.

Rio quickly arranged the bedroll, and Decker and Terrence eased Grace down on it.

“We’ll do recon and find a place we can squat for as long as we need it,” Terrence said. “Be back soon.”

Rio nodded and his men melted back into the trees, leaving him and Grace alone.

His first order of business was to make sure she was protected. Then he’d see to her comfort. Dead was pretty uncomfortable by his standards.

He took his rifle and made a slow sweep of his surroundings through the scope. He took his time, noting the locations of markers and memorizing the landscape.

After positioning himself so he had a prime view down the incline, he propped his rifle so it would be in easy reach, and then he took out several grenades and lined them meticulously against the base of one of the boulders.

Both the knives he carried came out and were placed beside the grenades, and his handgun came last and he put it on his opposite side. Satisfied that everything was close enough for him to grasp in an instant, he turned his attention back to Grace.

She shivered and chill bumps were predominant on her skin. Her lips were set into a fine line, even in her unconscious state. He wondered if she dreamed, if she was reliving her treatment at the hands of her captors.

Her muscles twitched and she moaned softly. Her fingers flexed spasmodically and she tried to curl into a fetal position, drawing her knees up toward her chest.

Knowing she’d only hurt herself further, he straightened her and pulled the top of the sleeping bag over her body. He zipped it up, securing her firmly inside. For now he wanted her immobile and warm.

He slid his hand over her cheek, trying to offer what comfort her could. It seemed to work because she quieted and went still. He left his hand there a long moment before finally pulling it regretfully away.

He glanced at the sat phone and blew out his breath. It was time to check in with Sam.

When he received no answer, Rio methodically went down his list of contacts by command. It wasn’t unusual not to be able to contact one or more of the Kellys but all of them?

With a grimace, he punched in Steele’s number. Steele was the team leader for the other KGI team, and while they all worked well enough together, Rio would rather eat nails than have to rely on Steele for anything. The other team leader was an ice-cold bastard, more of a machine than a man, and he had an uncanny instinct for nosing out trouble, which meant no one ever got the upper hand on him.

Yeah, well, Rio was waiting for the day that changed. No one was blessed for long. Sooner or later, he’d fall on his face, and Rio would try not to laugh too hard when it happened.

When he couldn’t reach Steele, his gut started screaming again. Rio had left the Kelly compound just as Grace’s sister, Shea, had been rescued and brought in for safety. But Rio hadn’t hung around to get details other than what he needed to track Grace.

Something was wrong, which meant Rio and his men were on their own and it was up to him to make sure Grace got the care she needed. Which was fine with him. He’d much rather rely on himself and his team. KGI always had his back, but he had theirs just as many times, and when it came to something important to him, he’d rather have sole control.

He left a message with the resident tech guru, Donovan, but was purposely vague. An idea—his idea—had already started forming in his head.

He’d been called stubborn. Rebellious even. He’d had a career in breaking all the rules. No one had ever been able to contain him, and his respect and position at KGI had been the closest he’d ever come to being a subordinate in any matter.

Sam trusted him, though, and just as often was content to let Rio go his own way. He didn’t push his team leader. If he had, perhaps Rio would even now be solo. But for now he was comfortable within the confines of KGI, because it suited him.

After so long living and breathing those shades of gray, it was a nice change to be on the Captain America side. He’d lived outside the lines. He’d been the very thing he now loathed. People who’d stolen young women like Shea and Grace Peterson. Used them. Discarded them. All for the greater good. As if there was such a thing. In this world, the struggle was never about good or evil. It was about money and power.

Grace would bring money and power to the men who managed to capture her and bend her to their will. If Rio had anything at all to say about it, they’d never get their hands on her again.

His resolve to protect this resilient woman had nothing to do with penance or guilt. He was pragmatic enough to know that he’d done what was necessary in his life. He had few regrets, but it didn’t mean he wanted to remain a ghost. Nobody. Not real. Not existing. Having no life except to serve the next great ambition.

He was his own master, his own God now. He had only himself to answer to. As long as he could wake up every morning and look at himself in the mirror, he was content. As content as someone could be who’d lurked in the shadows for so long that he dared not step too fully into the sun.

He glanced at Grace’s still form and was compelled to touch the soft side of her neck. Her pulse pattered softly against his fingers and some of the tension eased in his chest.

It was difficult to explain, even to himself, his compulsion when it came to Grace. The first time he’d laid eyes on Shea Peterson, something inside him had twisted. He’d seen the torment n Athe torin her eyes. Knew that she’d experienced more than most warriors had faced in their lifetime.

And then he’d been confronted by the video footage of Grace standing in the living room of her parents’ house. Frightened. Skittish and prepared to bolt like a spooked deer.

It had taken him back to years before. The image of Rosalina, his precious younger sister, had burned bright in his memory. Her belly softly rounded. The fear in her eyes. The knowledge of her own mortality. The knowledge that she wasn’t long for this world.

It was the same look and the same feeling that he got from Grace. It spurred his determination not to let her slip away. Not like Rosalina had. She’d died in his arms, never once condemning the asshole who’d done so much harm to her.

It had taken Rio an entire year to track the bastard down and another twenty-four hours before Rosalina’s former lover had died an excruciating death, begging for mercy the entire last two hours.

Killing was something Rio was no stranger to, but he’d never before taken pleasure in it. Neither did he regret the task. He’d learned early on to have no emotions. It made him a better soldier and assassin. But he’d taken savage satisfaction in making his sister’s murderer suffer. And when death was imminent, Rio had stared into his eyes and whispered Rosalina’s name so that the bastard would take the knowledge to hell with him that Rosalina had been avenged.

Grace stirred and moaned softly, her forehead wrinkling as if she were in pain. He moved closer, laying his hand against her cheek so she would know he was nearby.

Dusk had blanketed the mountains and the chill had deepened. His men would need to return soon so they could move Grace to a safer, less exposed area. She needed time to rest and to heal before he took her thousands of mile

s away. To his world. His turf. The one place where he answered only to himself and he could be assured of keeping her safe.

CHAPTER 4

THE ghosts invaded her mind. Her very soul. They murmured. Shared their sorrows, their pain, their insanity. The remnants of so much death and illness weighted her down, mixing with her own pain.

Grace wondered if her own sanity had been sacrificed, if she’d done too much, been broken by the repeated healings. Exhaustion and despair were every bit as prevalent as the pain, and she had no idea how to compartmentalize any of it.

She was an open book, broadcasting to the universe. No barriers. No shields. She was as vulnerable as she’d ever been in her life.

It was cold again, and she shivered but even so slight a movement sent more pain through her body.

There was a man nearby, speaking in low tones. Fear was her first instinct, but there was something familiar and soothing about his voice.

She searched her fractured consciousness for clues, something to tell her he wasn’t a danger to her. Then she remembered bits and pieces, it all coming back like some jigsaw puzzle that had been tossed into the air.

Rio. He’d said his name was Rio and he knew Shea.

He’d carried her a great distance, with her slipping in and out of consciousness the entire way. His men had disappeared, and Rio had placed her into a sleeping bag in an effort to keep her warm and motionless.

He had no worries on that count. She hadn’t the strength or desire to move.

She blinked some of the fuzz from her vision and stared up at the star-filled sky. Fairy dust against black velvet. Carelessly tossed across the sky like someone throwing jacks.

How many times had . Smshe stared up at the stars, silently wishing she was normal, that she and Shea could live a normal life. That they could have their parents back.

She closed her eyes again. No, they weren’t even her parents. She wasn’t sure who they were. She hadn’t had time to fully read Andrea Peterson’s diary. All she knew was that she and Shea were some lab experiments and that Andrea and Brandon Peterson were scientists who’d stolen Grace and Shea as very young children and raised them as their own.

“Grace, are you awake?”

Rio’s voice was quiet in the dark, barely a discernible whisper.

She nodded and then thought how ridiculous it was because he wouldn’t see the small movement.

She inhaled through her nose and then whispered back, “Yes.”