Page 86 of Dark Rebel's Mystery

Max was murmuring something soothing, wiping hair away from Kyra's face.

Kyra's lashes fluttered, her lips parted in a silent gasp. Her gaze, dazed and half-lucid, skimmed over Max with a flicker of trust in her eyes—an instinct that seemed to tell her that she was safe with him. Then her focus wavered, drifting past him. Slowly, as if through fog, Kyra locked on to Jasmine's face.

Jasmine's whole body stilled under that faintly familiar gaze. A hundred emotions collided in her chest, jamming into a single heartbeat.

She wanted to gather her mother in her arms and never let go.

But before she could do more, Kyra's features crumpled with a wild, desperate confusion, and then, like a candle snuffed out, she passed out—head lolling sideways, body going limp in Max's arms.

A strangled sob escaped Jasmine's throat. "What happened?"

"She just fainted," Max said. "Seeing you must have been too much of a shock."

Ell-rom placed a supportive hand on her shoulder.

Jasmine could only nod, words failing her.

With gentle care, Max let go of Kyra and unclipped something from his tactical vest, setting it aside. Then he pulled his sweater over his head, leaving only his T-shirt. He carefully clothed Kyra,like one would a fragile flower, with the sweater. Jasmine's chest constricted at the gentle gesture.

And to think she'd thought he was callous when he'd been so unfriendly to her on the cruise, when he could manage such tenderness for a woman he'd never met, especially after the bloody battle he'd fought.

He tugged the sweater down to cover Kyra's thighs. It was big enough to swallow most of her, even though she was nearly as tall as Jasmine.

She turned to Ell-rom. "Can you please carry my mother?"

"Of course." Ell-rom stepped forward, but it took Max a long moment to move aside and allow him access.

As Max put his tactical vest back on, Ell-rom gently slid his arms around Kyra and lifted her off the bed. Her head rolled to rest against his shoulder.

Jasmine brushed her fingertips over Kyra's brow, swallowing back tears. "I can't believe she's real and that we actually found her."

As Ell-rom carried her mother out of the cell, Max and Yamanu followed them out into the corridor.

Max handed the keycard to Yamanu. "We need to pick up the pace." He glanced at his watch. "We barely have any time left."

Jasmine turned. "We can't just leave them here to fend for themselves. We need to help these people." She gestured to the corridor. "The older guy from the first cell could barely walk. Others might be in worse shape than that. There could be women in here."

A muscle in Yamanu's cheek twitched. "This isn't what we came here for, Jasmine," he said as calmly and gently as he could. "We have your mother—that was our mission. We don't have the time or resources to do anything else. Reinforcements are probably already on the way, and we can't risk being here when they arrive."

"We could take them with us," Jasmine said.

He looked puzzled. "And what? Leave them in Turkey? I said we'd bust them out of their cells. They'll have to figure out the rest. If we stay too long, we might lose everything. You understand that, right? We can't save everyone."

56

MAX

Jasmine glared at Yamanu. "Fine. But we should contact the rebels and tell them to come for their people."

It wasn't a bad idea, but it also wasn't something they could do. Perhaps Turner had contacts who knew someone in the Kurdish resistance.

Yamanu relented. "I'll see what I can do. But first, we are getting out of here."

They continued down each cell, time becoming critically short.

Ell-rom shifted Kyra's weight in his arms, and the sudden movement must have jolted her because she moaned. Max was immediately there, nearly pushing Jasmine aside, and then Kyra's eyes opened, but her pupils were so dilated that Max could barely see the whites.

Kyra's lips parted. A shallow, raspy breath. She tried to raise an arm but only managed a weak twitch of the hand.

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