She could practically see him shrug, though her eyes were closed. As if it weren’t a source of concern to him at all. Was he really that confident in his abilities? In his men’s abilities? She should take comfort in that kind of arrogance and self-assurance. But she couldn’t quite quell the desperate fear that took over all else.
“I won’t know until we get there,” he said vaguely. “Now be still so I can administer the injections. It might burn, but it will go away quickly.”
“It can’t hurt more than it already does,” she said through tight lips.
He obviously injected the pain medication first, a fact she was grateful for, because now acknowledged, pain was screaming through her body in unrelenting waves. She could feel the glimmer of relief as he pulled the layers of her garment up so her hip was exposed. She didn’t protest with false modesty. At this point anything that gave her relief was more important than the fact he was exposing far more of her than she would have liked.
The man at her feet rotated her just enough so Hancock could access the back of her hip and then Hancock carefully swabbed the area, cleaning it with alcohol before efficiently administering both injections.
In a few seconds it was over and she sagged as Hancock readjusted her clothing. Already her surroundings were a warm, hazy glow and a wonderful leaden feeling had stolen over her body, chasing away the ever-present pain.
Still, she struggled against the heavy layers of unconsciousness and roused herself enough to open her eyes and direct her worried question up at Hancock.
“What if we run into trouble? I couldn’t fight my way out of a paper bag right now,” she admitted.
There was a hint of amusement in Hancock’s tone. “Leave the fighting to us. I don’t anticipate trouble—yet. So take this opportunity to rest up and heal.”
Maybe he was human after all. Or perhaps she’d misjudged him. He was, after all, carrying out a mission. Just like any other soldier or special ops force or whatever the hell he was. Black ops maybe? He was certainly secretive enough, and he hadn’t identified the branch of the military he served. Perhaps he was one of those who didn’t officially exist and he gave her no information that she could inadvertently leak at a later date.
She didn’t care. She would claim fairies rescued her just as long as she got back home. Safe. Alive.
“Thank you,” she whispered, still holding on to the last bit of awareness she possessed.
This time there was genuine puzzlement in Hancock’s voice.
“For what?”
“For saving me,” she said, her words nearly unintelligible. “For helping me. And for promising you’d get me back home.”
He stiffened beneath her. She could feel the muscles of his legs go rigid, and the hand that had been absently stroking her hand stilled and then withdrew.
“I made no such promise, Honor,” he said in a tight voice.
Maybe he wasn’t comfortable with people thanking him. If he was off the books and didn’t exist, then he wasn’t used to being thanked for anything. He and his men were ghosts. What a terrible way to live. Risking your lives for others and never being thanked.
“You trying is enough,” she murmured. “You’re my last and only hope. So thank you.”
“Go to sleep, Honor,” he said, his tone suggesting he had no liking for her words. “You need to rest while you can.”
It was a command she had no difficulty obeying. She was more than halfway there already. All it took was letting her eyelids falls heavily so that her lashes rested on her cheeks and succumbing to the sweet call of oblivion.
CHAPTER 9
IT was many hours later when the group pulled to a stop at an underground compound where they would seek refuge for the night. Dark had long since descended, making the way slower going as they drove a path through the desert where no road existed.