Page 2 of Raven’s Claw (Raven’s Cliff #2)

Chapter One

“Seriously, Sinclair? I can’t let you go down there. It’s a one-way trip.”

Kash Sinclair glanced at Raven Watch’s newest recruit — Tucker Grant.

Ex-Army medic, and the man Kash was trying hard not to throttle.

The guy had been twitchy all day, stopping randomly to scour the tree line.

Staring at the forest as if he expected something or someone to come barreling out.

What Kash and his buddy Zain had done a thousand times in the field when they’d been hiking through hostile territory with roving bands of mercenaries on their asses.

Kash had brushed it off. New job. New crew.

Extreme weather hampering their every move.

Until Tucker had flat out yelled someone’s name.

Brook. Or Cook. Acting as if he knew some deep dark secret Kash wasn’t privy to.

He’d finally decided to send his canine partner, Nyx, to scout the perimeter — just in case — when they’d stumbled upon five missing kids.

Miles off the search grid. Little hope of a chopper reaching them before it all went sideways,

Not that Tucker’s assessment of the situation was wrong. The cliff was sheer and slick, with water pissing out of cracks and fissures. The narrow ledge where the boys were huddled was nothing more than a postage stamp — the adjoining trail now a heap of rocks at the edge of the surf.

Kash held the man’s gaze. “Easy, buddy. We’ve got this. All I need you to do is hold down the fort and pull those kids over once I’ve got them tied on the rope so we can get them safely home.”

Tucker looked at the crumbling ledge, a shiver working through him. “I want that, too, I’m not a monster. But you know as well as I do, we don’t trade lives. No matter how much we want to.” He shook his head, water spraying off the ends of his hair. “I can’t do another Kabul. I just can’t.”

He’d been in Afghanistan?

Kash gave the man a light pat on the back. “I hear ya. But the chopper’s a good thirty minutes out, and I don’t think that ledge is gonna hold that long.”

“Neither do I, but what the hell am I gonna tell your team if I can’t get you back?” He leaned in. “Isn’t there someone you want to live for? Someone special?”

Kash coughed. It killed him that the answer was no because he wanted one.

Had the perfect girl in mind. One that haunted his dreams even when he wasn’t sleeping.

Jordan Archer — sweet on the surface, sharp underneath.

Like she’d survived something no one else could see.

He’d been manufacturing reasons to see her for the past few months — had drank more designer coffee from the trendy little café where she worked than he could stomach.

He’d intended on asking her out to dinner a hundred times over, but she’d always had that look.

As if she saw shadows in the forest, too. And he’d been too chicken to push.

He gathered his supplies, throwing the answer over his shoulder. “Not. Yet.”

“Kash…”

“I get it. We’re out here alone. There’s a freaking cyclone bearing down on us.

My buddy likely won’t reach us in time. And if I thought there was another way — an option I could live with — that wouldn’t make me want to punch my fist through the mirror every time I gazed at my own damn reflection, I’d take it.

But there isn’t. And I can’t just stand here and watch them fall into the fucking ocean. ”

Kash looked at the ledge, the kids, the bloody chasm between them and success then grabbed Tucker by the shoulders. “So, I need you to pull it together and help me save these kids, because I can’t do this without you, and I’d rather not die today.”

Tucker pursed his lips, looking as if he was working through some complicated theorem before giving Kash a curt nod. “I’ve got your back.”

Kash slapped him on the shoulder. “Hooyah.”

Tucker rolled his eyes, anchoring the rope then giving Kash the thumb’s up. “Before you go, what’s her name?”

Kash looked back. “Who’s name?”

“Your not-yet?”

He chuckled. “Jordan.”

Tucker’s left eye twitched, a hint of a smug smile curving one corner of his mouth before it faded. “The waitress at the diner downtown?”

Tucker knew who Jordan was? Had he even been in town long enough to venture out? Because Kash thought the guy had arrived late last night — had practically begged Atticus to let him do a trial run this morning. “You’ve been there?”

“It opens early. She’s pretty.”

“And smart and completely out of my league.”

“She new, too? She doesn’t move as if she’s from around here.”

She didn’t move like a local? Had he heard the guy right?

“Fairly. You ready?”

Kash motioned for Nyx to stay, lined up the route then took off, jumping once he reached the end. The wind howled across the cliff face, the rain obscuring all but the ledge rising up toward him before he hit just shy of the lip, only his arms catching on the ragged edge.

He kicked at the slick rock, losing ground when bits of the edge started cracking — crumbling into the rolling waves.

A massive breaker crashed beneath him, the icy spray soaking through the ends of his pants.

He clawed at the surface, swinging his legs — trying anything to get some momentum. Give himself a fighting chance.

He must have cursed or shouted because Nyx yipped, then raced toward him, clearing the rift and sliding to a stop just shy of his hands. She turned, grabbed his hoodie, then pulled. Grunting and snarling, wiggling back and forth until he got a knee on the surface — slid the rest of the way on.

He gave the dog a scratch, heart high in his throat. Fingers numb from the strain. “Thanks, girl. I owe ya.”

He wasn’t sure how he’d get them both back over, but he’d worry about that later.

Kash gave the kids a once-over, keeping them crowded up against the cliff as he readied his side of the rope.

Tremors rumbled through the ledge, a few rocks tumbling down the embankment then over the edge.

Tucker twirled his finger, feet braced apart.

Shoulders rigid. Whatever had been eating at him earlier had vanished, nothing but stone-cold control gazing back at Kash.

Kash gave the first kid a pep talk, then shoved him off, holding the rope taut as Tucker pulled from his end, slowly inching the kid toward the other side.

A strong gust spiraled up the cliff, rocking the kid dangerously close to the jagged rocks before it passed, allowing Tucker to close the gap — lift him to safety.

One down.

Four more to go.

Nyx barked, keeping the boys contained as Tucker sent the carabiner and harness back over.

The next trip went quicker, the boy arriving in half the time.

Tucker had definitely silenced his demons, standing tall while Kash hooked up the third.

He signaled for Tucker to start, frowning when the man whipped his head around, staring behind for a few moments before giving himself a shake, then tugging on the rope.

The kid inched across, starting and stopping several times along the way when Tucker had more of those episodes — always looking behind him as if there was someone far off in the distance before snapping back.

Kash cupped his hands, shouting as loud as he could to carry above the roaring storm. “Tucker!”

Nothing, just the guy’s hands moving methodically along the line. Gaze fixed. Head barely moving.

Maybe he hadn’t heard Kash over the crash of the waves. The screech of the wind as it kicked up around them. Tucker seemed to recover by the time they were down to the last rescue, the kid slipping along the rope in record time.

Kash waited for the other man to send back the gear. He’d hook Nyx up first — cart her over the same way then focus on getting himself clear.

It took longer than usual to get the kid out of the harness and over to the edge of the tree line, the sun already low on the horizon.

Kash wasn’t sure how long they’d been working the ropes, but Foster had to be close.

Likely pushing the chopper to the max in an effort to shave off even a minute of flight time.

Tucker finally waved his arm, readying his stance, when part of the cliff gave way above Kash.

Rocks bounced down the side, sections of the ledge breaking off.

A few cracks opened up, water shooting out — washing mud and gravel down the face.

Kash grabbed Nyx’s harness, heaved her onto to his shoulders then lunged for a nearby boulder.

Ducking and weaving —nearly falling off the side.

He finally wrapped his fingers around the cold stone, keeping his body pressed against the rock until it all settled — the eerie echo fading along the shoreline.

Everything was gone. The ledge. The gear — eight of his nine lives.

Only Tucker’s rope remained, the end snapping in the wind.

Kash repositioned Nyx, then slowly traversed the short distance.

He slipped a few times, slicing some grooves down his arms, but he managed to reach the line — tie himself off.

Tucker watched from above. Distant. Almost uninterested. His voice strangely detached when he finally called down to Kash. “If you swing over to this side, it’ll be easier for you to climb up.”

Kash judged the distance. Maybe twenty feet. Nothing he hadn’t done in the field. But he’d had Zain or Chase backing him up. Men he trusted. Who he’d bled for. Not some guy on the edge of a psychotic break. If Tucker lost it before Kash reached the other side…

“You ready?” Kash waited, squinting through the fog. “Tucker?”

“They’re closing in on us. We’re taking heavy fire.” Tucker’s voice raged above the howling wind. Choppy. Panicked. “I can’t… I have to go. I’m sorry. I can’t… They’re all gonna die…”

“Who’s gonna die? Tucker?”

Nothing.

No ghostly silhouette amidst the fog.

No sound.

“Come on, buddy. Just keep it together a bit longer. Beck’s on his way. We’ll catch a ride back. Laugh about this over a few beers.” Get you some fucking therapy.