The Darkest Hour by Maya Banks Read Free Book Online Page B

mind knew.
    She caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and she froze. Her eyes slowly moved to her left, scanning the area. And then she saw him.
    Her breath caught in her throat. He was the one who’d been with Ethan. Sam. He was big and mean and carried a rifle. His gaze swept the area, his expression fierce and concentrating.
    Oh God, oh God. What should she do? He scared the life out of her. She didn’t know him. Didn’t trust him. He knew her name, though. Would he take her back to the hut now that Ethan was dead? Would he help her or want to be rid of her?
    Then to her right she caught another flash. At first she thought she’d imagined it, but when she looked again, she saw men moving into the area. They were barely discernible, their camouflage clothing melting into the dense cover.
    No matter how frightened she was of Sam, she had more to fear from these men. She knew all of their faces well, had seen them on a daily basis for what seemed an eternity. Bile rose in her throat, and she shook so bad that her teeth chattered loudly.
    She was taking a gamble. With Ethan gone, this Sam person might not care what happened to her. But he hadn’t tried to harm her, and she couldn’t say the same for her captors.
    Desperate fear nearly paralyzed her, but she rose on shaky feet anyway. She had to warn him—had Sam seen the threat?
    “Sam, behind you!”
    He dropped like a stone. Gunfire erupted. She saw one of the men fall. A sense of savage satisfaction gripped her. Then more gunfire, this time from behind her.
    She dove to the ground, throwing her arms over her head, her mind screaming endlessly. Desperate to protect herself in some way as the jungle erupted into a war zone, she curled into a tight ball, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.
    And then she realized the stupidity of curling into a ball. She needed to get away. She’d given away her hiding spot already. It was only a matter of time before they came for her.
    Terror lending her strength, she pushed herself up and started crawling as fast as she could. She flinched when a bullet hit the tree just over her head, and she threw herself down once more.
    When no other bullets smacked the ground around her, she started forward again, praying with every inch she gained. The gunfire stopped, but instead of reassuring her, it inspired gut-wrenching panic. No longer distracted, they’d be after her.
    She crawled faster, her breath ripping painfully from her chest. Sweat rolled down her face, or was it tears?
    She ran into the body before she saw it. She was too stunned to scream or even process that the man was dead. Blood was everywhere and the rifle he’d carried was still firmly in his grip.
    She knew this man. She hated him. She spared no sympathy for his death. With more strength than she thought she possessed, she ripped the rifle from his grasp and crawled beyond him.
    They wouldn’t take her back. She’d kill them—all of them.
    When she’d crawled as far from the body as possible, she stopped to catch her breath. Her sides ached, her shoulder burned, and her vision was blurred by tears.
    A sob caught in her throat and she swallowed rapidly. Afraid of betraying herself, she lowered her head, burying her face in her free hand. She just needed a moment to rest.
    Several long minutes passed, or maybe it was seconds. It seemed an eternity. And then she heard her name. The softest whisper, carried on a breeze. Rachel.
    She flinched but refused to look up. They never called her by name.
    “Rachel.”
    Too close this time.
    Her head came up, and she grabbed for her rifle. She rolled over, jamming the gun in the direction of the voice. A strange man stared back at her, his expression blank. His ice blue eyes were unreadable as he surveyed her calmly. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact she was pointing a gun at him.
    She tried to scoot away, but she was tangled in ground cover. She thrust the gun forward, trying to at least keep her finger