Free Prisoner (Werewolf Marines) by Lia Silver

her with sympathy, which
was more than she’d have felt for someone who’d kidnapped her and
punched her in the mouth. “So that’s it. Is she a hostage?”
    Echo pressed the heels of her hands into her
forehead. She never talked about this, and didn’t intend to start
now. But without intention, she found herself replying, “Sort of.
It’s complicated. But if I let you go, they’d take it out on
Charlie.”
    “So, let me make sure I’ve got this straight.
You’ve got nothing against me and you’re not actually on board with
kidnapping innocent people, but there’s absolutely no way you’ll
help me if it means risking your sister.”
    “That’s right.” She resisted the urge to
apologize. Facts were facts. Sorry didn’t change reality.
    “I get it. I have a sister too.” There was
that sympathetic look again, making Echo feel guilty. Again. Then
DJ’s eyebrows rose. “Wait, Echo and Charlie? Are Alpha, Bravo, and
Delta back at the lab?”
    “Althea, Brava, and Della,” Echo said. In for
a penny, in for a pound. She flung her next words at DJ, hoping to
make him feel guilty for a change. “They died. Charlie and I
are the only ones left.”
    DJ did look guilty. But Echo didn’t find it
satisfying. Instead, she felt as uncomfortable as she had when
she’d watched him coughing on the floor.
    “I’m sorry, Echo,” DJ said. “Really, I
am.”
    Then he threw the remaining water in her
face, snatched the stunner from its holster on the wall, jammed it
into her ribs, and pressed the button.
    Nothing happened. His look of surprise and
indignation was almost funny. Then he dropped the stunner and dove
for the back door.
    Echo grabbed him, dragged him to the
passenger seat, shoved him into it, and handcuffed his left wrist
to the armrest. He fought, but with little strength. Once she
cuffed him, he slumped in the seat, breathing hard.
    She started up the Humvee and pulled out,
furious with him for tricking her and with herself for being
fooled. How could she have told him about Charlie? How could she
have told her about her other sisters? That was what happened when
you let feelings sucker you into telling people things about
yourself— whatever you revealed was used against you.
    “I am sorry.” DJ sounded sincere.
    Echo ignored him.
    “I’m serious,” he said. “I love my family
too. I get it.”
    “No, you don’t.”
    “Okay, maybe I don’t get everything. But I
know what it’s like to have people you’d do anything to protect. I
know what it’s like to do things that go against everything you
believe in, because you were trying to save someone’s life.” His
voice was wearing out, but he cleared his throat and went on, “I
know—”
    “Be quiet,” Echo said. “Doesn’t it hurt to
talk?”
    “What does it sound like?”
    “Then don’t.”
    “You take a turn,” he suggested. “Tell me
about Charlie. She’s older, right? How many years?”
    “You don’t care about her. You were just
trying to distract me.”
    “I was trying to figure out if you’d cut me
loose. Once I knew you wouldn’t, I had to go for it. You guys
pulled me off a battlefield. As far as I’m concerned, I’m a
prisoner of war. It’s my duty to resist by all means available and
make every effort to escape. It’s in our code of conduct. How come
the stun gun didn’t work? Out of juice?”
    He’d switched topics so unexpectedly that she
answered without thinking. “They’re keyed to authorized personnel.
You needed a microchip implanted in your hand.”
    “Oh.”
    He leaned his head against the window,
watching the desert go by. Echo waited for him to start talking
again, but he was silent. It seemed like his energy had finally run
low.
    As they passed a huge rock formation, DJ said
suddenly, “I feel sick. Pull over.”
    He did look sick and he was in no shape to
run or fight, but Echo had already underestimated him twice. She
wouldn’t do it again.
    She stopped the Humvee and unlocked the
doors.