Read Night Hush for Free Online Page A

watch the detonations, which annoyed him. He loved a good explosion.
    Archangel took up the rear, guarding their six. They reached the designated meeting spot and immediately secured it. They settled in to wait for the rest of the team. It would take the yokels a while to get organized enough to search for whoever blew up their precious, newly-­acquired munitions.
    It therefore seemed only fair to Jace, who was already pissed his flawless op had not gone flawlessly, that one guard had miraculously, or through blind, pig-­shit luck, followed them from the compound. True, he floundered through the sparse trees like a blind hippopotamus, but he came straight at them.
    Jace’s team appeared around him, part of the shadows, and melted completely into the darkness at his hand signal. They hadn’t followed a trail. How could this guy have found them? The moon barely glimmered, and he didn’t appear to wear night vision goggles. Jace saw that the man carried the standard-­issue AK-­47. He winced in sympathy as the man whacked his head against a low branch. He fell over backwards and lay still for a moment. Jace let himself hope the man had passed out. No such luck. He crawled to his feet again, holding his head. It might have been funny if they didn’t have a chopper to catch.
    The man hobbled forward again. How in hell had he followed them while high? No way, Jace knew. The guy was probably lost, looking for the compound. He grimaced again as the man bumbled toward his spot. The poor sap would pass within inches of him. With Jace’s luck, he’d stop to take a leak on his head.
    The man swayed again as he came near Jace’s patch of earth. And looked right at him.
    H EATHER PUT A hand to her throbbing skull. Her concussion roared back to life, vision going blurry and her concentration shot. The starvation and beatings had taken their toll; her ribs ached, breathing hurt, and something in her abdomen burned. That worried her more than anything else. The grapefruit-­sized bruise on her left side and the throbbing made her afraid she might have some internal injuries. And between the last log she’d tripped over and the branch that had nearly brained her, her body had become a churn of conflicting miseries. She was stumbling over the landscape, unable to see well, relying on instinct to get her away from the pursuit coming from the compound.
    Something made her stop. She peered at the deep shadows, nostrils flaring to catch a scent of the danger she sensed all around her. There didn’t seem to be anything there, but she trusted her gut. Backing away, she turned to run.
    A muttered curse and a change in air pressure were her only warnings before a heavy weight smashed into her, tripping her and slamming her to the ground. She smacked down forcefully, head bouncing off the hard-­packed earth, breath leaving her lungs in a squeaky whoosh. Her attacker rode her down, crushing her ability to roll away, his breath hot on her neck. A wave of dizziness washed over her from the blow to her head, her injuries exploding to painful life from the force of the impact.
    Before she could recover, her assailant wrapped a forearm under her neck, ruthlessly yanking her head back, exposing her throat. She whimpered helplessly as she felt the cold edge of steel against her throat. Heather closed her eyes, unable to suppress another squeaky noise as she prepared to feel her life’s blood leave her.
    The blade shivered against her skin, but the pain didn’t come. And still didn’t come. Finally, the tension against her jugular lessened.
    The weight on her back shifted. Heather felt a face push into her neck and heard an inhale. He was smelling her. A flash of hope opened her eyes. Her bath! Beneath Ahmed’s filthy uniform, her attacker smelled the sweeter scent of perfume and soap, and it confused him.
    He shifted over her, his much larger frame enveloping her. Before he could discount what