Bolt

22

“Here,” Bolt said, putting his hand over hers. He moved it gently, then tugged his shirt over his head. She blinked hard and caught herself as the shirt came off, clearing her mind of everything except his wound.

But when she went to examine it, almost nothing was there. She put a hand on his side so she could lean in and examine it. Her lust for him, the reaction she always had for his body, was nullified for the moment in the face of her shock.

“Bolt, what happened?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, surprised.

“You were cut open! The edges of the wound were flayed apart. It was almost as deep as your ribs! Now there is only a scratch.”

He grinned and shrugged. “I told you it was nothing.”

“Yes, but — this is incredible.”

He shrugged again. “Don’t worry about me, Kara. I’m experienced in these conditions.”

“These conditions?” she asked. He nodded.

“Limited resources, dangerous enemies on my tail, time limits on the success of the mission. A little injury like this can’t even slow me down.”

“I see that,” she murmured. She stepped back and gestured for him to put his shirt back on.

“I’m amazed,” she said, shaking her head. “When you said you healed fast, I didn’t think you meant that fast.”

He pulled his shirt back on, taking her hand gently to look into her eyes.

“It’s a good thing I do heal fast. Those guys will be back.”

“Didn’t you kill them all?’ she asked. He shook his head.

“One got away. Ran back to whatever rat hole he and his buddies live in. They’ll be back, and they’ll bring more with them.”

She felt a cold touch of fear in her guts. “More?” she whispered. He nodded.

“I know guys like this — what they are capable of. They’ll be back, and there’s a good chance that the ones who come after us next are even more determined.”

She reached out and grabbed his hand again, holding it tightly.

“I’m glad we have you, Bolt,” she whispered, all doubts of trusting him fleeing her mind.

“I’m glad to be here,” he smiled. “After so many years of pain and turmoil, I’ve finally found my — family.”

A dark look crossed his face, and Kara felt there was something else he wanted to say. The way his eyes lingered on her mouth and the slight parting of his lips tortured her as she thought about what might be lurking in his mind. Eventually, he sighed and looked away.

“We should get some sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow is another big day.”

She wanted to talk more, potentially even wring the truth from him. The trouble was she agreed. They all needed sleep, and whatever truth Bolt was hiding would be revealed sooner or later.

She had learned to have great patience and work slowly to uncover precious treasures from the past. Uncovering Bolt’s truth would be no different.

BOLT

The next morning the group rose with the sun, and they were ready to go before the first rays of dawn had fully risen. He was pleased to be moving, knowing that staying still in these situations was very dangerous. He hadn’t expected a bunch of archaeologists to be this good at moving like soldiers, but he was surprised by their grit and determination.

As had become the custom, Kara led the group while Bolt brought up the rear. He liked to watch the edges of the path as well as keep his eyes on the others as they walked ahead. He worried about Kara being in the lead, but at the same time, he knew she could handle herself.

She more than made up for anything she might lack in experience with determination and stubbornness. He looked ahead, watching for her. He could only catch maddening glimpses through the trees and the legs of the others, and when he almost walked into a branch, he realized he’d ignored his duties to try to get a glimpse of her ass.

He shook his head, letting the group get ahead of him a little. He couldn’t let a lapse in concentration like that happen again. She affected him, though. He had never been so distracted in his life.

They walked a narrow path that wound around the edge of the mountain, and as they kept going, they were surrounded by thick trees. They weren’t especially leafy, but the branches hung close together, crowding his vision. The tiger within him growled, urging him to stalk along the branches high above.

He didn’t want to do that yet. If they were being watched and followed, and he had to assume they were, he didn’t want them to think he knew. It would be better for them to reveal themselves and attack so he could be in the best position to defend the group.

It wasn’t easy for him to put their safety ahead of the destruction of the enemy. In a way, it was kind of the same thing. He knew, though, down to his bones, that shifting and taking off into the treetops to stalk his prey would endanger the group. No, he had to stay close, attentive, and watchful.

Even with that in mind and his eyes and ears tuned outward for any sign of the enemy, he was utterly taken by surprise when Razia screamed. The others leaped away from the sound. All of them, except Hashmat, hurled themselves to the ground. Razia’s scream rang through the forest, bounced off the mountain, and echoed across the far plains. He winced, thinking that every living creature for miles had just gotten an exact pinpoint of their location.

Bad guys as well as hungry predators, he thought. Anything big and angry would hear that sound and equate it with fresh meat. He put his worry aside and hurried forward. The best thing to do was to stop her from screaming any more as quickly as possible.