Chapter 22

Except, at the precise moment he thought they'd gotten everything back to normal, sharp pain hit him from behind his head. Everything around him started accelerating and his vision worsened. He was stumbling; by instinct, he held Ayla but he felt his strength flowing from him.

"What…?" Liam tried to twist, only to receive another hit, this time harder. His legs were rubber, and he fell, but he still held Ayla tight as best he could.

The last thing he saw was an imposing shadowy figure standing above him before the world turned black. The cold, detached voice echoed in his ears as, indeed, darkness closed in around him, "You should have stayed down. Just like I said.

Liam's blaming thoughts skittered away, tripping over each other trying to find the way back to her. He could make them safe right now, but he needed to hold on to the little light that trust put up. Somebody would come find them. Somebody would come help.

He glanced back at him and at Ayla, the silhouette over them as Liam stirred. They both looked so disheveled that they were thankful no one would question them. They beckoned through to the others. "Settle them. We're taking them with us.".

Two of the others, who had risen after being randomly punched insensible by Liam, intervened; one lifted a limp Liam, and another lifted a weak Ayla, trying to be gentle with her, to not cause her any more damage.

"Get moving," he barked as he surveyed the place nervously, "we ain't got long, and someone could have heard that racket by now."

The party took their way right rapidly through the forest, at the head of which they led their prisoners. The night was dead, with a kind of dreadful stillness, as if the forest itself listened: very expectant—very breathless.

The men assigned to hack their way through the woods sent only a faint, dusty moonlight filtering through the swirling canopy above them as they advanced. There was an intense silence. That purposeful step seemed to be followed by delving footfalls, really heavy and deep steps toward the destined place.

He chanced a look over his shoulder at Liam and Ayla, his mouth curving up in a nastily smug sneer. "'Who's so tough now?" he said.

This self-satisfaction would, of course, soon flee. He knew they had to hurry; the more time they spent in one place, the more the chance someone was going to track them down. And if that happens, all their hard work will be futile.

They had managed to get deeper into the woods, the sounds of the night increasing. Among all the whirl of thoughts on what to do next, it was Leader's mind that whirred.

"We've got them, although this job is far from over, and we're far from being in the clear. We need to figure out the next step?" he muttered at last, low eyes narrowing.

Ethan's heart pounded with every step as he pushed his way through the woods toward the small, ramshackle cottage buried deep in the trees. The information he'd wrung free had brought him here, and all his instincts told him it was running out. He quickened his pace and reached the door, catching the faint acrid smell in the air. Something was off.

"Ayla!" he called, but there was no reply. He shoved open the door and went in, and for a moment he was plunged into darkness, before his eyes adjusted to the faint light that filtered through the cracked windows; streamers threw the room into eerie gloom. His eyes focused on Ayla, who lay, motionless, on the other side of the floor.

"Ayla!" he screamed again in fevered desperation. Another stride and he already knew what it was. The air almost inexplicably thickened with a kind of sickly sweet smell, like poison gas. The realization ripped through his thoughts with the shock of a hammer. He had to move fast.

Ethan kneeled beside Ayla, his shaking hands reaching out to check for her pulse. It was very weak, but she was living. He knew he couldn't afford to lose another second. He pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth, trying to filter out the worst of the gas, and carefully heaved Ayla into his arms.

"I've got you," he gasped, more for his comfort than for hers. Ayla was totally limp, cold to the touch. Panic reared up in his mind, but he shoved it down, focusing on getting her out of there.

The gas seared Ethan's eyes, and oxygen seemed in short supply to his lungs as he inched backward through the cottage. The exit seemed to be farther and farther with each step he took, but Ethan didn't give up. He refused to be consumed by fear.

He finally pushed open the door and, coming out into the relatively fresh night air, hastened into motion, putting as much space between them and the cottage as he could before he let Ayla down to the ground. He was breathing too hard,in too many gasps, but he did not care. Ayla was all that mattered.

"Ayla, for God's sake, you've got to wake up," he pleaded with her, slapping lightly on her cheeks. "You're safe now, but you've got to wake up."

Since she didn't, Ethan bent over her with his ear only inches from her mouth, heaving a passionate listening for any sign of breathing. It was faint, almost imperceptible. He immediately began doing CPR, and his hands moved in practiced precision.

"Come on, Ayla," he muttered between breaths. "Don't give up. You're stronger than this."

After what felt like an eternity, Ayla finally coughed weakly and her chest rose with a shallow breath. Relief swept through Ethan as her eyes fluttered open slightly.

"Ethan?"

"I'm here," he soothed softly, as he brushed a lock of hair back from her face. "You're going to be okay. I've got you."

Even then, Ethan realized, it would not ever be safe enough; but at that moment, as he vowed to himself, holding Ayla as close as he could, never to let it happen to her again. He had meant that, and he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

Ethan signaled to his team that he had found her. They all came running to where he was, but there was no sign of Liam.

“Where's Liam?” He asked one of the guards who was on Liam's team.

“We split up, so we could find her faster. But we haven't heard from him since then.” The guard responded.

“What if something bad had happened to him?” Ayla managed to say.

“Ayla, Don't worry about Liam, he's a strong guy, he can handle himself. He's going to be fine,” Ethan assured her.

Ethan instructed three guards to search around for Liam. He headed to the pack house carrying weak Ayla.

He got to the pack house and placed Ayla on his bed in his own bedroom.

He found out that she had gone unconscious again.

"Ayla, wake up! Please, wake up!" Ethan's voice was trembling as he gently shook her.

Ayla's eyelids flickered, but she was too weakened to react to it. Her body lay limp as Ethan felt her life force slipping out of her. Panic set in.

"Help! Somebody help us!" Ethan screamed.

Within minutes, the room filled with guards, maids, and last of all, the family doctor. They all moved closer to Ayla with their faces, riddled with concern and fear.

"What happened?" the doctor hurried to ask, sitting on the floor beside Ayla, reaching out his hand toward her wrist for her pulse.

"I don't… know," he replied hoarsely and huskily. "She was awake a few minutes ago. But now, she isn't breathing anymore."