Wolfsbane Read Online Free PDF Page B

Sitting back, he crossed his legs. “Whenever you’re ready.”
    Silently, he prayed. Prayed hard. That God would reach into this woman, stop her from disappearing from reality and delving into madness and delirium that sometimes happened to those who endured captivity.
    After nearly thirty minutes of silence and one interruption when Langston peeked in and Olin gave a grave, glowering shake of his head, Danielle let the blanket fall from her shoulder. She pushed out of the bed and plodded to the small bathroom in flannel pajamas and bare feet. Bent over the sink, she cupped her hand under the stream and sipped.
    Olin stood. Did she need a drink? He looked at the pitcher by her bed. Should he offer water from it? When he glanced back to her, she stood over the toilet, hunched. A minute later, a gagging noise clenched his stomach.
    “Danielle!” He rushed to her side. “Are you ill?” Only then did he notice she had a hand in her mouth. “What’re you doing?”
    A demonic-like sound erupted.
Splat!
Vomit launched from her mouth and hit the commode, wall, and floor. A long string of orangeish spittle dangled from her mouth—wait, no! Not spittle. A string, tethered to something.
    His own stomach roiled as he watched her unhook it from her teeth. Spitting in the sink, she held the thing in her hand. An acidic stench devoured the air. The smell proved sickening, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the object.
    Stunned, he waited as she peeled back what looked like film from … some gray thing. His pulse ratcheted. A thumb drive! His gaze shot to hers.
    Danielle cupped water, slurped, swished, then spit. Delicately patting the edges of her injured mouth with the back of her hand, she turned to him. And stretched out her hand, palm open with the device.
    Cold, dark, unfeeling eyes came to his. “Everything you need to kill him.”

CHAPTER 2
    Undisclosed Location, Virginia
    S tacked on either side of the point of entry Nightshade waited. The seven members of the team were split into two groups—Alpha Team, led by Max, and Bravo Team, led by Colton “Cowboy” Neeley. They’d been a team for less than two years and when Reyes died, that left them one man down. Instead of merely replacing body count, the Old Man added two former spec ops men to Nightshade. Duty demanded the team work efficiently and with stealth. They’d trained for weeks.
    Today would decide if they were ready to face an enemy with cohesion.
    After a firm nod, Max trained his gaze on the point of entry. Griffin “Legend” Riddell, who had helped put the team together, stood behind him and patted his shoulder, signaling readiness. Max took a step back, raised his foot, and rammed the heel of his boot into the door. Vibrations rattled through his leg as the door flung open, hinges groaning. Dust filled the air. He snapped up his weapon and supplied cover as Legend moved forward and tossed in a flash-bang.
    “Flash out!” Legend returned to the stacked position.
    As the
tink-tink-tink
of the canister seemed to count down the seconds to its detonation, Max focused on the dimly lit corridor beckoning them. Itching to take them down.
    He glanced aside for a second, waiting for the white-hot flash of the detonation.
    Boom!
    A gust of warm wind and dust rushed from the building, as if fleeing the chaos descending upon it.
    Familiar with the precision and maneuvering required to clear a building and not shoot or kill one of his own, Max hustled across thethreshold. He went right, crisscrossing the point of entry with Legend, and buttonhooked.
    A tango leapt from the corner.
Tat-tat-tat!
    The target fell.
    “Tango down,” Max called as he swept his gaze until it intersected with Legend’s line of fire.
    “Copy.” Legend didn’t hesitate. “Clear.”
    The rustle of tactical pants and the soft squeak of boots on the dirty vinyl floor helped Max keep tabs on the team as they filed into the boxed corridor.
    He rushed past a kneeling Legend who held a