Maya Banks - Forged in Steele

“Get belted in and hang on tight,” Steele ground out. “I’m going to have to try to land us the best I can, but it’s not going to be smooth and it’ll be one hell of a bumpy landing.”

AS soon as Steele headed for the cockpit, Maren leaned over Hancock’s body and began to pull him toward the seat. It took every bit of her strength, but she was wired on adrenaline and at the moment she could move a damn mountain.

Hancock’s eyelids fluttered and he stared up at her in confusion as she began to prop him up so she could roll him onto the seat.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy? Get your ass belted in. Now!” he barked.

Only it came out so weakly it was more of a yip than an actual bark. Where before he might have sounded like a German shepherd, he now sounded like a Chihuahua. God, she was getting hysterical because she was actually considering what kind of dog he sounded like now.

Steele was in the cockpit after hauling the dead body of the pilot onto the floor. He was swearing a blue streak and Maren knew that wasn’t good. Not at all.

“I’m getting you belted in. We’re going to crash,” she said calmly. She marveled at how nonchalant she sounded. As though she’d just said they were attending tea at some palace. Yeah, she was losing it.

“For fuck’s sake, woman, I took a bullet for you. I’m going to be pissed if you kill yourself trying to buckle me in. Now get your ass in your seat and get your head down and cover it with your hands. Got me?”

She ignored him and pushed and pulled until she had him far enough onto the seat to secure the seat belt around him. Then she pushed in next to him and belted herself in. Before she could think of what to do next, Hancock shoved her down and covered her body with his.

She could feel the warmth of his blood against her skin. Could smell it. His pulse was weak. She’d been barely able to detect it when she’d briefly checked for one as she was dragging him from the floor. How he managed to even speak was beyond her, but the man had already proved to be somewhat of a superhuman. He and Steele were evidently cut from the same cloth.

“Going down!” Steele yelled from the front.

The rest was a blur. She almost expected one of those out-of-body moments where everything slowed and your life flashed before your eyes in episodic frames. But all she registered was shattering glass, a bone-shattering thud and the creak and screech of metal tearing. And then the world tilted sideways and she was slammed against the side of the helicopter, Hancock still draped over her.

And then silence.

Awful, overwhelming silence. She tried to move but she was trapped under Hancock’s body and something was pinning him on top of her. She tried to reach to feel for a pulse, but she couldn’t manage it. She had no idea if he was alive or dead, and the idea of being trapped underneath a dead man freaked her the hell out.

Which was stupid given that she was alive and she should be grateful for that much. She mentally went over every part of her body, trying to ascertain her level of injuries. And the baby. Oh God, her baby. Panic filled her and she closed her eyes, praying with every breath that nothing would happen to her child as a result of the crash.

Steele. Her senses were finally coming back to her, and now on the heels of the worry over her child came the knowledge that Steele could be dead or very seriously injured.

“Steele.”

She tried to yell it but it came out as a low croak, her voice cracking. Pain lanced through her shoulders and she puzzled over it. She didn’t feel injured. She didn’t feel much of anything at all.

Shock.

She was in shock and as soon as it wore off, she was going to feel every one of her injuries even if she didn’t know the extent or even what they were. Shock could be deadly, but she was thinking somewhat rationally. She sounded hysterical even to herself, but she’d just been in a helicopter crash, for God’s sake. She deserved a little slack for that.

“Steele!” she said in a louder voice, and it was then she tasted blood and realized her words were slurred.

She closed her eyes and focused on calming her breathing and controlling her heart rate. She needed to calm down. And hope to hell someone rescued them fast.

STEELE came to awareness with an awful buzzing sound in his ears. His head hurt like a bitch and he was numb everywhere else. He tried to shake the cobwebs cluttering his mind and as his vision cleared, he saw glass, blood and crumpled metal, and he was tilted to the left staring up at the right side of the helicopter.

It was lying on its side and he was trapped by the caved-in frame of the chopper. But he was alive. And on the heels of that revelation came utter despair and panic.

Maren.

She’d been in the back. He had no way of getting to her. No way of moving. He could move his right arm, but his left was pinned against the side of the chopper and his legs were trapped by the caved-in control panel.

He tried to calm the roaring panic that gripped him. He had to think straight. He had to figure out a way out of this mess and get to Maren. She could be seriously injured. He needed to get her to a hospital. Hancock had been shot and was already looking bad. It was doubtful he’d even survived the crash. He wouldn’t consider that Maren had been killed. He couldn’t think about that or he’d go insane.

The teams were there. They had to have seen the helicopter go down. They’d be here soon. Only minutes had passed, hadn’t they? He’d lost consciousness and had no idea of the passage of time, but the others were close so not much time could have passed or they’d already be on the scene.

“Maren,” he called, his voice hoarse and thready. “Maren, can you hear me? Talk to me, please. Let me know you’re back there.”

There was a long silence and with each passing second, darkness filled his soul.

“Steele?”

Oh God. Relief was crushing. He went weak, sagging and closing his eyes. It was weak, barely audible, and yet his name was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.

“Yes, honey, it’s me. Are you okay? Don’t move, okay? Help is on the way. They’ll be here in any minute. Any idea how bad your injuries are?”

“I don’t know,” she said weakly. “I can’t move. Hancock is on top of me and I’m pinned between him and the side of the helicopter. I can’t really feel anything. I know I’m in shock. I felt a little pain in my shoulder when I tried to move but nothing else.”

“Stay put,” Steele, said, worry seizing him. “Don’t move at all. We don’t want to risk you injuring yourself further. Hold on, Maren. Please, baby. For me.”

“What about you?” she asked slowly, each word seemingly difficult for her to get out. It worried him that she sounded so weak. But if he could keep her talking, then he could distract her from everything else. And he’d keep her with him. He didn’t want her slipping away. What if she had a head injury? What if she lost consciousness and never regained it?

“I think I’m good,” he said, not knowing if it was a lie, but no way in hell was he going to give her any reason to worry. He wanted her focused on herself. “Pinned like you, but I’m not in any pain. Just can’t move. We’ll be out soon.”

“I don’t know if Hancock is alive,” she choked out. “His blood is all over me. I can smell it. I can taste it. I can’t reach to feel for a pulse, but he covered me, trying to protect me when we went down.”

“Thank God,” Steele whispered. No matter the history KGI had with Hancock, despite his dislike of the man, he’d taken a bullet meant for Maren and now he’d shielded her with his own body. Twice he’d saved her life, risking his own in the process. It was a debt Steele could never hope to repay.

“Steele! Steele!”

Steele heard a shout close to the helicopter and relief flooded him. Sam was yelling at the top of his lungs, and if Sam was here, the rest of KGI was here too.

“I’m here,” Steele called. “Trapped. Can’t move. Maren is alive but she’s pinned between Hancock and the side of the helicopter. Hancock is in bad shape. He took a bullet for Maren and then he covered her with his body when we went down. I don’t even know if he’s still breathing. We need help immediately.”

“I’ve called in every fucking available resource,” Sam said. “We’ll get you out, man, just stay with me, okay? Don’t you dare fucking die on me.”

“That’s one order I’ll gladly follow,” Steele said dryly.

The helicopter shook and metal creaked.

“Be careful,” Steele barked. “Be very careful. I don’t want Maren more injured and we have no idea the extent of her injuries. I don’t want her hurt more by you trying to pull her out.”

“I can climb in the top,” Donovan called out. “If I can get to Hancock and Maren, I’ll put a C collar on Maren and I’ll see if Hancock is alive. If he’s not, then we’ll pull him out so we can get to Maren. For that matter, a neck injury is the least of Hancock’s worries if he took a bullet to the chest. There’s blood goddamn everywhere back here. We’ll get him out and then I’ll see to Maren.”

“Be careful with her, Donovan. I’m trusting you with my entire life,” Steele said, his voice aching with emotion.

“I know, man,” Donovan said. “I know. You know I’ll get it done.”

Steele closed his eyes, pain swamping him. Now that he knew Maren would be taken care of, he let go and pain splintered through his body until he wanted to scream. He was precariously close to losing control. Pain. Overwhelming fear for Maren. Helplessness. Never in his life had he been in a situation where he was absolutely at the mercy of others. He hated being trapped, unable to move. Unable to go to Maren and reassure her, touch her and let her know he was there and wouldn’t leave her.