Forged in Smoke (Red-Hot SEALs #3)

But he suddenly knew. Wolf had asked about his shirt, the one Rawls had been wearing when he’d taken the bullets. He frowned, shook his head. There was no way Wolf would have had time to swing by the cabin Rawls shared with Mac, grab the bloody shirt out of the garbage, and then abscond on the helicopter before Rawls had even reached the helicopter pad. He hadn’t been that far behind the big bastard. So what had Wolf used?

An even more important question hit him. Why hadn’t Wolf, or Jude, told him what was happening and how to combat it?

Anger rushed him. Someone should have told him.

“Wise or not, you’re gonna have to stick to me like butter and keep that thing away as long as possible. My biitei”—he stumbled over the word, mangling it in the process—“has learned to manipulate objects in our world, which is dangerous as hell considerin’ all the weapons ahead. Plus”—he broke off, shooting a quick glance at Faith. He hadn’t told her this part yet. Not that she would believe him—“there’s this possession thing he’s got goin’.”

A jolt vibrated through Jude’s body, shaking the impassiveness loose. Alarm tensed his face and tightened the skin around his eyes. “It has skin-walked?”

Skin-walked . . . interesting term for that nightmare in the kitchen.

Rawls nodded, glancing meaningfully toward Faith.

It was Faith’s turn to jolt. “Oh come on, I would know if—”

“The kitchen,” Rawls reminded her, dismissing the disbelief on her face. He’d already known she wouldn’t believe him.

“This . . . this . . . is not good.” Jude shook his head, obviously struggling to regain his mantle of eerie calm. “One does not expect such escalation from a fledgling.”

“So you’ll stick close to me?”

Although he looked royally unhappy at the prospect, Jude agreed with a brusque nod.

And just like that the tension whooshed out of Rawls.

Finally, finally he had the means to protect his people. A thick, pervasive blanket of oppression lifted, and he emerged a thousand pounds lighter.

“Rawls,” Mac yelled from the cavern’s entrance, beckoning him forward.

Rawls nodded an acknowledgment and took hold of Faith’s elbow. From her behavior, it was obvious she didn’t need his help, but he wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

Every head in the hub turned their way as they walked into the room. Zane broke away from Cosky, who had settled on the floor with Kait curled in his lap.

Concern rose at the heat and exhaustion evident in Kait’s face. Changing directions in midstride, Rawls detoured toward her. Kait had come close to overheating that first time, when she’d healed Cosky’s leg back in the parking lot. Best to make sure it hadn’t happened again.

Zane intercepted him, his calm green eyes scanning Rawls’s face. “Glad to see your ugly mug. Mac and I were about to go look for you. Dig you up if we had to.”

There was enough residual tightness on Zane’s face to tell Rawls his best friend and teammate wasn’t simply razzing him. And from the relieved glances spreading through the cavern, Zane hadn’t been the only one worried.

“Yeah.” Rawls shrugged, aiming for a casual expression and tone. “The tunnel turned a mite possessive.” No sense in broadcasting Faith’s medical condition to the rest of them.

From the sudden relaxation of the arm he held, Faith obviously appreciated his discretion.

Zane simply nodded. But from the assessing look he turned on Faith, he knew the circumstances of their delay. Cosky must have filled him in.

“How you holding up, Dr. Ansell?” Zane asked, his tone cordial rather than concerned. As though he were merely exercising good manners.

But Rawls knew better. The sharp look of assessment his LC had leveled on Faith’s face was a clear indication that Zane was calculating how much her condition was going to cost them. Apparently Faith picked up on that as well, because her arm stiffened beneath his fingers.

“I’m just fine,” she said, her tone stiff with challenge.

Zane scanned her again and shot Rawls a quick glance. “When you get her settled, come find us. We’ve got things to discuss.”

Well, how about that. They’d decided to let him back in the big boys’ club.

Zane stepped back and Rawls continued toward Cosky. If Kait was overheated, the stone would be their best bet of cooling her down—which meant Cosky had to stop cuddling her and lay her out on the floor. Stone retained cold, which just might suck the heat from her. Without water, it was the best they could hope for.

Cosky caught sight of Rawls and scowled. His heavy shoulders tensed. Chips of ice swam in hostile gray eyes. “Kait’s not doing another damn healing.”

Rawls raised his eyebrows at the welcome. “I’m not expectin’ one. I’m here to see how she’s doin’.”

He was keenly aware of Faith beside him, her warmth, her stillness, the intensity with which she was studying Kait’s red, fatigued face.

“How the fuck do you think she’s doing? She’s hotter than hell and I’ve no water to cool her down.”

“You have the stone floor. Use it.”

Cosky froze for a moment. His eyes narrowed and absolute disgust slammed down over his face. Apparently his worry had shut his common sense down.

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