“I won’t allow it to happen,” Shea murmured fiercely.
Grace was good. She was tenderhearted to her detriment. She couldn’t bear to see anyone suffer, and as a result, Grace often suffered pain beyond Shea’s imaginings. Shea’s temporary agony of tonight was nothing compared to the days when Grace would be gripped by the very illness she took from others.
Shea hastily tossed her toiletries into a large case and then stood in front of the sink, her hands braced on the surface, eyes closed as she battled the weariness that beat at her.
She’d hoped by reaching out to him that she might somehow gain relief. But now sorrow blanketed her. She couldn’t leave him to suffer alone. He was so very close to giving up all hope. She could sense his desire to die and slip away from his awful reality.
She shook her head in denial. She wasn’t going to let him go.
NATHAN Kelly sat quietly in the corner of his tiny cell and stared broodingly into the darkness. He had no idea if it was night or day. For all practical purposes, he was in a box. A tiny, airless box. How long had he been here?
For the first weeks, he kept meticulous count, sure that rescue would come at any moment. Not only did he have the U.S. Army to count on, but his brothers ran a top-notch military ops group. They were a private organization that took jobs nobody wanted or had the means to complete. They often contracted with the U.S. government, but they just as often took assignments from the private sector. No way they’d let him stay imprisoned in some hellhole. Not after what had happened to Rachel. They would question everything. They wouldn’t blindly accept his death, no matter what they were told.
He closed his eyes and thought about his fragile sister-in-law, Rachel, who was married to his older brother Ethan. Then he shook his head. She wasn’t fragile. A fragile person wouldn’t survive an entire year imprisoned in hell.
Nathan couldn’t have been here for more than a month and already he was losing his grip on reality—and his sanity.
He moved again, waiting for the fresh resurgence of pain. But it remained at bay. It wasn’t that he was numb or that he’d finally gone beyond the parameters of pain. He was aware—hyperaware—of his surroundings. He could feel each bead of sweat that rolled down his chest. The pain was simply gone.
After he’d lived with agony for so long, having every waking moment be one of intense suffering, it was unsettling to suddenly feel nothing.
How had it happened? Was she an angel? The voice in his mind could only be a hallucination. Sweet. Warm. So soothing that he wanted to drown in the sensation.
For one brief moment he knew peace. His mind was empty, and calm had descended, wrapped around him like a warm, fuzzy blanket.
It was absurd to think that there was any peace in hell. It wouldn’t last, but he was grateful for even a moment’s respite.
He eased down onto the rough floor and curled into as tight a ball as he could muster. He was nearly lost in the corner, a mere shadow in darkness.
Fatigue held him in its relentless grasp. But then he felt the faint touch of another. It was as though someone stroked a hand over his hair. Whispers, like a gentle summer breeze, drifted through his ears.
I’m here.
He closed his eyes, determined to rest, to regain his strength. Whatever had happened today, whether he’d finally broken from reality or not, he felt a renewed determination to live. To fight.
He focused on his family. He’d live for them. This would pass. He would survive it.
Yes. You’ll live. I won’t let you give up.
The angel whispered, and he felt some of the horror in his mind recede. If he could, he would grab on and wrap the angel around him.
He felt her smile. It was like a burst of sunshine in his shattered mind. And then he felt her arms surround him and hold him close. Just as he’d imagined her doing.
Sleep now, she gently urged.
“Stay with me,” he said even as he drifted into healing sleep.
CHAPTER 2
SHEA stepped into the crisp morning air and inhaled deeply in an effort to clear her mind. Flashes of her encounter the night before and the weight of emotion still haunted her. She’d tried to go back to sleep after she’d reached out to the man being