Forged in Smoke (A Red-Hot SEALs Novel Book 3) by Trish McCallan Read Free Book Online Page A

women of their imminent abandonment in the command center and didn’t finagle them off somewhere private and sweet-talk them into the news.
    Of course, the SEALs were probably planning on shipping her off to this survivalist group too. Faith frowned. From what little she knew about doomsday preppers, they kept to themselves, avoided civilization, and set up their camps in the wilderness. Rather like this place, but without the benefit of helicopter service. Still frowning thoughtfully, she turned back to the stove and yanked open the oven to recheck the zucchini bread.
    It would be even harder to fill her meds from such a camp. As she slipped the butter knife back into the bread, she released a frustrated breath. She’d been so close earlier . . . if she hadn’t lost her nerve on catching sight of Wolf, she might have a line on her meds by now. In retrospect, she should have stayed put and explained the situation. Wolf would need to know about her need for medication at some point anyway.
    “What do you suggest?” Amy asked, her voice more polite than curious.
    “That you don’t contact your parents or brother until we’re on scene and we give you the all clear.”
    Faith almost didn’t recognize Mackenzie’s voice, it was so startlingly cordial. And she must have missed a critical exchange in the conversation, because it sounded like they were going to help Amy after all.
    “I’m not asking you to come,” Amy repeated after a tense silence.
    “I’m fucking aware of that.” Mac’s voice tightened and hardened, but at least it didn’t rise. “We’re offering.”
    Faith wondered if Amy got the same impression, that the men intended to accompany her whether she accepted their offer of aid or not.
    “Her parents live in Bellingham,” the commander said, turning to Lieutenant Simcosky. “We’ll need to find a canyon about half an hour out. Single-access entry point, with enough elevation to give us a three-sixty on the eyes.”
    Both Zane and Cosky nodded in agreement.
    “Wolf’s bird would come in handy.” Zane turned to Cosky and lifted his eyebrows. “Think you can sweet-talk your new BFF into loaning us his toy when he returns?” He paused to tilt his head. “And by sweet-talking, I mean without your fists.”
    Cosky grimaced, absently stroking a finger across his eyebrow. “I’ll have Kait ask him.”
    A moment of silence fell.
    “What about Rawls?” Zane asked, his tone careful. “We may need his med kit.”
    More tense silence. Along with furrowed brows.
    As quietly as possible, so she wouldn’t interrupt their conversation, Faith removed two loaves of bread from the oven and set them on the counter to cool.
    “Have either of you seen him today?” Mac asked, scrubbing a hand down his tight face. At the shake of Zane’s and Cosky’s heads, he grunted. “He talk to either of you about what’s going on?”
    More head-shaking.
    Faith frowned. There had been something strange about that situation involving Seth Rawlings in the woods after Wolf’s house had exploded. Something odd, and it continued to itch at her. The man had been lying there, still as death, drenched in blood. She’d been horrified, mournful, certain he’d been dead. Only suddenly, he’d opened his eyes. And then there had been no wounds when Amy had wiped him down with the wet cloth.
    Cosky and Zane claimed blood transfer was to blame for his saturated clothes—that the body he’d collapsed onto had been riddled with bullets and had bled out. But if that were the case, if Seth Rawlings hadn’t been wounded, what had triggered his collapse and unconsciousness in the first place? What was causing his current erratic behavior? And even more troublesome, what accounted for . . . the glowing? Cosky and Kait, even Rawls . . . all three of them had been wrapped in a luminous silver sheen.
    With a shake of her head, she shrugged the memory aside. Likely it had been a trick of her eyes, the play of moonlight against