Page 19 of The Last True Hero

She wasnotgoing to fall apart right now. Sage needed her.

Mia’s throat felt dry and achy, as though there were a silent scream threatening to tear itself free. "No. No, I'm not," she admitted. "I want her back and here I am flirting with you, and... what type of person does that make me?"

Those green eyes looked almost silver now, in the night. "A human one," he said gently. "You're not made of stone, Mia. And you've been pushing yourself hard."

And he'd been playing along, taking his cues off her. She'd flirted first, before he got involved, almost as if he hadn't wanted to push her too far.

"I'm an emotional mess," she whispered. "I don't even know what I'm doing right now."

"I know." There was that inexplicable gentleness again. McClain stroked her arm. "I'm not going to take advantage of that."

"It might be nice if you did," she blurted, thinking about what it would feel like to be in his arms while he held her. She couldn't fall apart when his arms sheltered her from all the darkness around her.

Which was probably the stupidest thing she'd ever thought. Especially when McClain froze. Right. That just confirmed it. He'd definitely been playing along. And now he was being nice because he didn't want her to break down on him and cry.

Mia offered him the water canteen. "We'd better get moving."

"Mia, are you—"

"I'm fine," she muttered. Apart from being an idiot for a few minutes. "And we're not getting anywhere standing here talking. Time to go find some reivers."

* * *

Lights twinkled in the distance. She smelled cooking smoke, and could almost make out the figures below them as the reivers moved around their makeshift camp.

McClain peered through a set of binoculars. He lay on his belly in the dirt beside her, resting on his elbows. Mia snuggled next to him, little shivers of nervousness shooting up her spine.

"Can you see the captives?" she whispered, practically itching with the urge to get closer.

Sage was down there. She could feel it in her bones.

"No, but there's a pit or something at the back of the camp," he murmured, lowering the binoculars. A small line etched itself between his brows. "You want a look?"

Of course she did. Mia snatched them and peered through, searching the camp hungrily. Her vision shot forward until she could make out individuals. A tall reiver stood on guard, wearing a rough leather jerkin that bared his belly and a scruff of beard on his jaw. Another reiver behind him joked with another man. The pair of them pushed each other, settling into a shoving match, but they were of little interest. She found what she wanted and zoomed a little closer.

"That's definitely a pit," she whispered. "They've got five men on guard there. They look like they're arguing."

"Three of them are bleeding," he said, "and there's two bodies at least, laid out beneath old sheets of tin thirty feet from the camp. I can make out their boots."

She tilted the binoculars to where he was pointing. “Why would they…?”

"Did you count the reivers?"

Mia shook her head.

"I did. There's only sixteen of them down there."

What does that mean?"Where are the rest of them?"

"I don't know, but we were following at least fourteen vehicles today; three motorbikes and the rest cars of some description. There are only seven vehicles down there."

She looked again. McClain was right. "Over half the camp is missing." Mia slowly lowered the binoculars. "Do you think...?" She couldn't say it.

"Don't know." McClain stood and dusted off his pants. He reached out a hand to haul her to her feet. "Could be a trap, but I can't see the other vehicles anywhere. At least we know where they are now, and what the circumstances look like. Time to get the others."