help, he angled toward and intercepted her. She glanced questioningly at him, and he snatched her hand to swing her forward in front of him.
Vicious, still carting Lethal over his shoulder, suddenly disappeared from view. He had either jumped or fallen down the steep ravine. Maisie sprinted the final bit and jumped without hesitation. He did the same, bracing himself for a painful landing. He hit the ground heels first, his boots digging into the slope and throwing him off-balance. He fell back against the muddy wall of earth and slid down toward the bottom where he flopped into a puddle of murky filth.
As he slung water from his face, Maise reached for him. She was just as dirty, but she seemed to have made a better landing. She grasped his hand and pulled him away from the pool of stinking water. She panted heavily, her eyes bright and her skin ruddy with exertion. Even covered in mud and grime, even with her dirty, rain-soaked hair, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. If anything, her terrible state increased his feelings of protection toward her. He wanted to take her home with him, to bathe her with his own hands, to wash her long hair and brush it out until it glistened. And once she was clean and warm and safe, he would tie her to his bed and use his tongue to learn every inch of her body.
“Shit!” Grim’s curse interrupted Terror’s lascivious thoughts. The assassin crashed down the ravine but managed to stop himself halfway down. He glanced back up and shouted, “Move your ass, girl!”
The huntress appeared above, but she didn’t come straight toward them. She darted off to the right and kicked aside a pile of sticks and rocks. She found whatever she was looking for and rushed to the sharp drop-off. Just before she jumped, she shouted, “Fire in the hole!”
Terror zeroed in on the thin wire in her hand. With a growl, he grabbed Maisie and flung her to the ground. He covered her smaller body with his own and cupped her exposed ear with his palm. She might not be able to hear, but she could still suffer damage and pain. Maisie gripped his wrist, not in an effort to push him away, but in a search for comfort and reassurance. He squeezed his legs around hers, holding her even closer. I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.
A series of explosives detonated, each boom seeming to come quicker than the preceding. They were expertly laid and timed. He had no doubt the bombs had been placed along a path to cut off any advancing enemies. Still covering Maisie, he glanced at the huntress who had both of her dogs under her arms. She wasn’t some simple mountain girl. She had secrets—and he would uncover them all.
When the explosions finally stopped, Grim snarled at the huntress. “You ran us across a fucking minefield?”
The huntress rolled her eyes and gave her dogs gentle pats and scratches to calm them. “It was perfectly safe. Those charges were switch activated, not on pressure triggers.”
While the huntress and Grim argued, Maisie wiggled out from under his cover. Even in their dangerous circumstances, he couldn’t stop the reaction of his body to the feel of her soft bottom brushing side to side across his cock. He cursed his lack of self-control and didn’t try to keep her close as she crawled away from him toward Vicious and Lethal.
As soon as she reached Lethal’s side, she tugged at the man’s belt. With the practice of someone comfortable in emergencies, she fixed the belt above Lethal’s wound and tightened it as a tourniquet. She yanked his uniform shirt free from his tactical pants and bared his belly. Not caring that Vicious was a general or that single women were generally forbidden from touching men, she grabbed Vicious’s arm, turning his wrist for a brief glance at his watch, and then swiped her finger through Lethal’s blood. She painted the time she had applied the tourniquet on his belly in large red numbers.
Her bloody fingers moved to Lethal’s neck, and she counted his pulse and then put her hand on his chest to count his respirations. Her brow creased, and she reached went for the hole in his tactical pants. She tore at the fabric with her fingers, forcing the hole to gape wider so she had a better view of the wound. She lifted her worried gaze to