clearly suffering the effects of shock.
This was a living nightmare, and his subconscious was clearly responding with a subliminal message. Don’t worry. We’ll send a beautiful Valkyrie to the rescue. Just as he had been coping with that little treat for his senses, the arrival of a group of armed men bearing the dreaded Reaper flag—probably the most feared symbol in the world—had brought him sharply back to reality.
The terrorist organization known as the Reapers had risen to prominence in recent years, spreading its brand of hatred and fear across the globe. The Reaper himself, the shadowy leader of the group, was the most wanted man in the world.
Captured by the Reapers, the most feared killers on the planet? I don’t think so.
Now, Adam’s heart pounded against his rib cage and the hairs at the back of his neck stiffened until they felt like pins being driven into his flesh. The car in which he and Yussef had arrived was ablaze in the middle of the street. The roar and crash of grenades and the staccato sounds of gunfire were deafening. As he tried desperately to find a way out of this living hell, a small figure caught his attention and he paused, his eyes narrowing as he followed its progress through the dust and smoke.
The boy—Adam decided it was a boy—was bent almost double as he ducked inside a drainage ditch at the edge of the road, clutching something tightly to his chest. As he drew level with Adam, with only the span of the street separating them, another grenade went off, throwing the fleeing child off his feet.
Adam moved swiftly, closing the distance between them, sliding into the ditch and crouching beside the boy to inspect him for injuries. The child seemed stunned rather than maimed, and he gazed up at Adam with wide, uncomprehending eyes. As he checked him over, Adam saw that what the boy was carrying was a small dog. Despite the mayhem going on around them and the strangeness of the situation, the bedraggled canine licked Adam’s hand and wagged its tail.
Cradling the boy against his chest, Adam shielded him and the dog from the gunfire with his own body. From his size, he judged the child to be about eight years old.
“Where are you going?” He mimed a gesture to go along with the words.
“I speak English.” There was a trace of pride in the words. The boy pointed in the direction of the road out of town. “I go to the mission.”
Another grenade hit close by and Adam decided waiting around in a ditch wasn’t the best idea for either of them. Scooping up both the boy and his dog, he stayed low as he broke into a run. He had gone only a few hundred yards when the bullet hit him. Even though there was surprisingly little pain, he recognized what had happened instantly. It felt like someone had punched him hard in the back of his left shoulder.
I’ve really been shot this time. There should be more pain.
Blood, hot and sticky, began to pour down his back. The pain did hit then. Like a demon digging its claws gleefully into his muscles and sawing on his flesh with razor-edged teeth. As his vision blurred, Adam staggered and veered wildly across the road. Determinedly, he kept going. Getting the boy to safety was all that mattered.
“Let me help you.” The voice was cool, feminine and vaguely familiar. It sounded like the speaker was used to giving orders. As an arm slipped around his waist, he gazed into the clear blue eyes of the woman who had burst in on him as he sheltered in the ruined office building.
Her name came into his head through the mist of unconsciousness that was trying to claim him. Maja. Since leaving the house, she had disposed of the horse, helmet, cloak and weapons. Even without those items she was still the same unmistakable warrior princess.
Great. Just when I think I’m being rescued, it turns out to be a figment of my pain-filled imagination.
“Lean on me.” For an apparition, she was surprisingly strong, and Adam was grateful for her support. With her arm around his waist, he could drag his feet along with her in something that resembled a walk. Somehow, he was still able to carry the child and the dog.
“This way.” From within Adam’s protective hold, the boy gestured to a large, run-down building, half-hidden behind a drystone wall lined with dusty olive trees. “The lady will help us.”
The next few minutes passed in a blur. As Adam staggered into a tiled courtyard, Maja vanished. At the same time, a tall, gray-haired woman came out of the building and issued a few commands in English. Three men in local dress emerged and followed her instructions. One of them took the boy from his arms, then Adam was carried inside and strong hands lifted him onto a portable examining table.
Exquisite pain followed as the woman probed the wound in his shoulder. After that, he dipped in and out of consciousness. He was aware of her clipped English tones telling him how lucky he was. He tried to laugh, to make a joke about the sort of luck that had brought him to Warda on this day. He wasn’t sure his voice had worked, but it didn’t matter because sweet, blessed darkness swept over him once more.
When he regained consciousness, he was in a small room. He took a moment to assimilate his surroundings. He was lying on a narrow bed with a broken ceiling fan above his head and a window with cracked shutters painted a faded shade of green. Oh...and his shoulder hurt like a demon.
“Where am I?” Since he was alone, he had no expectation of a response when he tried out his voice. Sure enough, it sounded like he had gargled with broken glass.
“Tarek called it ‘the mission.’”
Startled, Adam began to turn his head in the direction of the voice. The movement caused darts of sheer agony to shoot through his shoulder. He guessed the woman who had removed the bullet had done so without the benefit of anesthetic. He continued the movement of his head, slowly this time, and carefully.
Maja was seated on a chair near the window, her blue eyes fixed on his face. Her expression was one of mild curiosity. As if he was an interesting specimen she was studying and about which she was making mental notes.
“Who is Tarek, and who the hell are you?”
“Tarek is the child you rescued. And I have already told you I am Maja, Valkyrie shield maiden.”
“Of course you are.” Adam closed his eyes, too weary to pursue this strange alternate reality his mind appeared determined to force him into.
“Are you going to die?” The question had the effect of opening his eyes again. Fast.
“What sort of question is that?”
She got to her feet and he took a moment to appreciate the way the red corset fitted her curves. Who needed painkillers with that sort of distraction around? “What you did with the boy was brave. If you die, I can take your soul back to Valhalla and my journey will not have been wasted.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m planning on sticking around.” That was his ambition. Whether the government forces and the rebel opposition who were unleashing mayhem on the local area allowed him to fulfill it? That was another matter. Although sound was muted by distance, he could still hear the battle raging.
She bit her lip. “I was afraid you might say that.”
With those words, the ultraefficient, ice maiden facade slipped slightly and he saw another side to her. Briefly, he caught a glimpse of a frightened expression flitting across her perfect features. The swift change intrigued him, and he made an attempt at getting himself into a sitting
