He yanked Layne close, heedless of the pain, and kissed her with everything he had. She kissed him back, the taste of her salty tears on his lips.
“Live.” His tone was unyielding. He fumbled and pulled his watch off. “The GPS tracker is in this. Logan and Callum will come. You stay alive until then.”
She turned the watch over in her hands.
“Now go. Find a hiding place, and when you get a chance, run.”
She looked up at him. “Declan—”
“I know. Me too. Now go.”
Dec raised his SIG. He heard the men coming.
He’d do what he did best and fight. Give Layne the time to hide and then get away. Pain was a living, breathing monster inside him, and he felt the steady trickle of blood down his stomach, soaking into his clothes. But the thought of Anders getting his hands on Layne shoved all the aches and pain away.
There was no way Anders was touching Declan’s woman.
He dragged in a breath to steady himself and leaned against the column. He was feeling lightheaded, but there was nothing wrong with his determination.
The first man came through the temple entrance. Dec took him down with a single shot.
More came, diving for cover. Dec moved now, but still taking his time to aim and shoot.
Gunfire echoed amongst the ancient stones. In a place that had never seen modern weapons. Dec had the fleeting thought that Seth might have been pissed off by it.
A bullet winged close by and Dec flung himself to the ground. As his gut hit rock, the pain was excruciating. He sucked in air, forcing back the urge to be sick.
He got up and shot again.
More guys were coming.
Shit, they were going to overrun him. He couldn’t see Anders anywhere. Coward was probably waiting for his men to take Declan out of the picture.
Dec moved along the wall, deep into the shadows. If he could circle around…
A kick hit him in the back and sent him to his knees. His handgun clattered onto the ground. He turned, ready to kick back but then he saw the gun barrel pointed directly between his eyes.
Dec was already surging upward, even knowing he couldn’t move faster than the bullet.
Bang.
Dec froze. He watched the man crumple to the ground. Dec turned his head and saw Layne standing there, a pistol in her hand.
“I…I got it off one of the dead bodies. I…” She was swallowing convulsively.
Dec got one foot under himself and gritted his teeth as he stood. Conflicting emotions crashed inside him. Fear that she hadn’t gotten out like he’d ordered, anger that she’d put herself in danger and been forced to kill. Dec knew just how that first kill made you feel.
He grabbed her. “You saved my life.”
Some of the horror leaked from her face. “Good.”
“And you didn’t listen.”
“I wasn’t really feeling that whole thing where you sacrifice yourself for me and die.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “You drive me crazy, Rush.”
“Well, isn’t this sweet?”
Anders’ crisp voice made them turn. Dec dragged Layne closer.
Anders stood, flanked by two men who had their guns trained on Dec.
“Looks like this job’s become more than just work for you, Ward.”
Dec didn’t speak.
Anders smiled. It was cold and mean. “I can understand the charm.” His dark eyes flicked to Layne. “Dr. Rush, thank you so much for leading me to Zerzura.” He lifted his hands. “Your friend, Dr. Stiller, did the best he could, but I don’t think he’s quite as talented as you.”
“You killed him?”
Anders smile was sharp. “He was alive when I left him in the tunnels. Bleeding, but alive.” The man looked around, his gaze flaring as it fell on the treasure. “I very much needed to find this treasure.”
“So you could sell it off,” she spat.
Anders shrugged. “Not everyone cares about history like you do. To most, it’s just old junk. And to others, it’s wealth.”
Anders’ gaze skated over her, and then Dec. “I do believe Declan isn’t going to last much longer. That’s a lot of blood soaking your clothes, old friend.”
“I am not, and never have been, your friend.”
“Once, we were.”
“When I thought you were a decent person. Before I realized you don’t have a soul.”
Anders shook his head. “Declan, you still haven’t realized that life is all about what you can get for yourself. Caring about others…it’s a weakness and a waste of time.”
“What made you like this?” Layne asked, confused. “What made you so dead inside?”
“My mother.” Then Anders laughed. “No, my mother was a perfectly boring, good mother, and I had a hard-working, normal father. There’s no great childhood horror in my past, no bullies at school, no traumatic death of a loved one.” He spread his arms out. “I am what I am.”