by Anna Hackett
“You just need a cute little nurse’s outfit,” she muttered.
He didn’t look at her, but raised a brow. “I’d prefer to see you wear it.” His voice lowered to a near-silent whisper. “Just for me.”
She whipped her head to look at the screen at the front of the tent.
There was a flap of canvas and General Adam Holmes entered. Spying her, he came straight over and grabbed her hand.
“I can’t tell you how good it is to see you,” he said.
Even without his uniform and his usual pressed look, he still carried the bearing of a man in charge. Authority was more than just clothes and posture.
“You too, sir,” she said with a nod. She thought he’d lost weight, and there were deep lines bracketing his mouth. She felt a rush of sympathy. This man had so many people depending on him, looking to him for their survival.
The general nodded, then spun and strode to the front of the tent. “Okay, let’s get this debrief done.” His gaze came back to her. “Claudia, you spent a week with the aliens. If there is anything you saw or learned during that time, however big or small, we need to know. It could help.”
“Yes, sir.”
Then his face changed a little. “We also need to discuss Selena.”
Claudia pulled in a breath. “I know.” She shifted her leg to get it more comfortable. “She was with me the entire time. God, if it wasn’t for her, I may have gone crazy in there. She might be an alien, but she says she is an enemy of the Gizzida, and I believe her.”
The general pressed a hand to his chin. “From what she’s told me, she’s from a planet very far away from here. It’s called Florum. Her people have battled the Gizzida before, but for the most part, the Gizzida leave her planet alone. She says she was snatched off a moon where she was working. She is some sort of biologist.”
“They taunted her a lot, smacked her around a bit, but the Gizzida weren’t really that focused on her,” Claudia said.
“She’s a wildcard, Claudia. I can’t give her free access around the convoy until we understand better who she is, and why the Gizzida went to the trouble of capturing her and bringing her here.”
Claudia nodded, but she wondered how the hell delicate Selena would make it in the middle of this battle for survival on a planet so far from her own.
“Now, what intel do you have on the raptor bases?” Holmes asked.
“I didn’t get to see a base, because the raptors moved me every few days.”
“Because we were breathing down their scaly necks,” Shaw muttered.
She’d figured as much. Hoped as much. “They wanted information on the convoy. What it consisted of, how many people.” Memories of the beatings, the torture, the pain, it all tried to crowd back in. She ruthlessly stomped them out. “They tried to be…persuasive, but I wouldn’t say their interrogation techniques were particularly creative.” A hand on her shoulder again. Shaw squeezed gently. She wasn’t sure if he was comforting her or himself. Maybe both. “I would say for the most part, the Gizzida are very straightforward. They are intelligent, no doubt, but they aren’t cunning, or they don’t see the need for clever strategy.” She shrugged. “They don’t need guerrilla tactics and shrewd plans. They have the numbers, the brute strength, and the tech to just overrun any planet they attempt to assimilate.”
The general nodded. “We can use that to our advantage.”
“But some individual Gizzida are certainly capable of…more.” She remembered the soulless eyes of the Huntsman. “There was one specific raptor—” Her voice cracked a little, and she sensed Shaw go still. Get it together, Frost. “From what I can tell, this raptor is in charge of finding our convoy.” A bad taste filled her mouth. “And he won’t give up until he finds us.”
A taut hush filled the tent.
The general shifted. “Tell me.”
“I called him the Huntsman.” She could hear those slow, steady boot steps getting closer. She clenched her hands in her lap. “He looks like any other raptor, but he wears a red leather bandolier on his chest, not a standard brown one like the others. He’s calm, he’s…patient…and he wants to capture our convoy.”
“Shit,” Shaw murmured, followed by a few mutters from the others.
Holmes ran a hand through his hair. “You believe he’s a threat?”
“Yes, sir. Because I believe he is capable of taking risks, of trying something out of the box—at least, for a raptor’s way of thinking. He saw that I was protective of Selena, and threatened her as a way to get to me. He forced me to fight his soldiers, I believe as a way to assess my strengths and weaknesses. He’s trying to understand us. The other raptors, they just hit as hard as they can.”
She heard Shaw’s loud expulsion of breath. This time, she moved a hand back and touched his thigh. The muscles were bunched up hard.
“The Huntsman is coming, General,” she added, “and he won’t give up.”
Holmes’ face hardened. “Nor will we. I am getting this convoy to the Enclave.” There was sheer force behind his words. Resolute firmness. “I’ve lost enough people, and I won’t lose any more. Tomorrow, we’ll move to the next location. Our amended route is a little longer, but will hopefully avoid the raptors.”
“And if this Huntsman gets too close…?” Marcus said.
“We’ll adjust. And I will need Hell Squad to keep him off our backs.”
Marcus gave a grim nod.
Claudia felt a lump in the center of her chest. Her squad would be going out there, to face the Huntsman. They needed her with them.
***
“Come on. Again,” Shaw said.
“Fuck you, Shaw.” Claudia’s voice held its usual edge, but also the slight wobble of exhaustion.
Shaw was torn. A part of him was just thankful to hear that cranky voice nipping at him again, but another part wanted to scoop her up, hold her, and take the pain for her.
She was doing her therapy, as ordered by Doc Emerson. They were under the shade of a large tree, not far from the med bus. Claudia had been in to spend some time talking with Selena. Then the doc had given Claudia a therapy brace, and told her to get moving. It wrapped around her leg and held her upright, but put progressively more and more weight on her leg. She was drenched with sweat, and even shaking a little.
Instead of telling her she could stop, he focused on her leg, and that damned blinking regen patch. The more therapy she did, the better the patch would work, and the quicker she’d be back to her usual self.
“You’re enjoying my suffering,” she snapped.
He winked at her. Hell no, he wasn’t, but he wanted her better. “Didn’t know you were so soft. Might have to start calling you Princess.” It was the nickname she’d tormented Elle with when she’d first become Hell Squad’s comms officer.
“Soft?” Claudia spluttered. “You’re a sniper. And we all know snipers don’t like getting their pretty hands dirty by getting up close and personal with the enemy.”
“What?” He shoved his hands on his hips. “That’s bullshit.”
She grinned at him. “A soft, pretty-boy sniper.”
Even as righteous anger filled him, he was damned glad to see the flare in her metal-gray eyes and watch the misery melt off her face. “I am not soft. Look here.” He tugged the neckline of his T-shirt aside to bare his shoulder. “Look at this scar. Took a laser because I was up close and personal with a terrorist intent on blowing up a school.”
She made a scoffing noise. “That’s nothing.” She let her brace take her weight and tugged the hem of her shirt up. “This was a knife wound from an elite combat soldier I tangled with in the Middle East.”
She bared a flat, toned belly marred by a ragged scar. It had been worked on, flattened, and dulled by time. But it was still a hell of a scar.
“How about this?” He flicked open his trousers and shoved them down over one hip bone. “I have a bigger knife scar than that.”
The scar wove over his left hipbone. It had hurt li
ke hell at the time.
“Oh, yeah?” She turned and gave him her back. Then she reached down and pulled her shirt up. “Help me. You’ll see it on my back, on my right shoulder blade. I got way too close to these rebel soldiers in a certain South American jungle.”
He tugged the T-shirt up and stilled. All he saw was smooth skin. She was a soldier, one who was tough as nails. Her skin shouldn’t be this smooth.
“See it?” she prompted.
He swallowed. “Yeah.” He traced a finger over the thick ridge of skin. “Someone got you. Deep.”
“Yep. He had this experimental laser knife and he was determined to take me down.” She looked back over her shoulder grinning. “I had other plans.”
Shaw traced the scar again, and then, because he couldn’t help himself, he smoothed his hand down her back. “Your skin is so soft.”
She went still.
He walked his fingers along the knobs of her spine. Even here, she was firm, with light ridges of muscle. But the tautness was tempered by that smooth skin that reminded him that, for all her toughness and skills in the field, she was a woman as well.
She shivered and that made his belly knot.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
Chapter Six
Shaw knew Claudia well enough to know she hadn’t used her “back off or I’ll break your fingers” tone. He brushed his fingers across her surprisingly delicate shoulder blades.
“At night, I couldn’t sleep,” he murmured. “I worried I’d never see you again. In the day, it was easier, I never gave up, but at night…”
“The doubts creep in,” she said quietly. “In the day, you believe, but at night, all your worst fears come to life.”
The thought of her alone in the dark, in pain, afraid, almost drove him to his knees. He cupped her waist. “But then the dawn breaks, and you believe again.”
She nodded.
He slid a hand around and spread his palm over her bare belly. Jesus, desire was like a flaming torch to his gut.
“We can’t do this,” she said.
“Why?” He leaned down and nipped her ear. This felt so good, was so tempting. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so curious to know what a woman tasted like, what she would feel like in all her secret places, or what it would feel like to slide himself inside her.
“We’re squad mates—”
As he dipped a finger in her belly button, her breath hitched. “Mm-hmm.”
“We’re friends,” she continued.
“We both know this is more.” And there was the truth he’d tried to deny for over a year. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck. Hell, the skin here was even softer. “You smell so good. Like Claudia.”
“I smell like sweat, Baird.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “Sex ruins stuff. Always.”
Hearing her call this connection between them just sex left an acidic feeling in him. “It doesn’t have to, but we both know this is more than sex.”
She made a scoffing noise. “More than sex? When have you ever had more than sex, Shaw?”
He stiffened. “Okay, never, but I damn well know the difference.”
She half turned. “You’ve made it your mission to have as much sex as possible with whoever was willing. And that’s fine. There are a lot of people I know who are wired that way. There are a lot of men who prefer the buffet to the a la carte menu.”
“Claudia—”
She shook her head. “You know sex can make things awkward. I’ve seen the more…persistent soldier bunnies break into your room or track you down and make fools of themselves when you’re no longer interested.” She pushed away from him. “I won’t risk our squad for a quick roll in the hay.”
Shaw battled for some control. “So, this is all about the squad?”
“Yes.”
He ground his teeth together. “Bullshit. You want me. I want you. And this—” he grabbed her hand and made her watch as he tangled his fingers with hers “—we both feel this, and it is not just sex.”
She shook her head. “You like the ladies. That’s fine. But I won’t be just one on a long list.”
“I have never lied to anyone I’ve shared a bunk with.” Anger tickled through his veins. “I never promise more than a good time.”
“Then don’t lie to me.”
She was so stubborn. He saw it in the tilt of her chin. “I’m not, dammit.”
She pulled her hand from his, then touched his cheek. “You’re a bad bet, Shaw.”
It was like a solid blow to his sternum. In his head, he heard his father’s drunken roar, telling him the same thing. Useless, boy. A bad fucking bet.
He stepped back. “Have I ever lied to you?”
“No. But that doesn’t make you any less risky.” She pressed her lips together. “Go find a soldier bunny to fuck, Shaw.”
He swallowed a curse, the hurt worse than anything he’d felt in years. He didn’t need this. “You know what, maybe I will.”
Her cheeks went a little pale, but that stubborn chin lifted another inch. “Fine.”
“Fine.” He turned and stalked away.
He hadn’t fucked anyone in a couple of weeks. Maybe it was just the thing to take the goddamned edge off.
He truly didn’t need Claudia Frost busting his balls and making him feel like shit. He’d learned the hard way that letting anyone too close just messed with your head.
And when you cared too much and you messed up, those you loved ended up dead. He dragged in air.
Yep, a hot, sweaty fuck was just what the doctor ordered. With someone fun, easy, and uncomplicated.
***
Claudia walked a few more meters, working through the ache in her leg. A trickle of sweat ran down her face, but she ignored it. She stopped, turned, and started walking again.
The sooner she got this leg healed, the sooner she could be back out doing what she did best…shooting raptors.
Besides, this kept her mind busy and off the man who’d stormed away several hours ago. She really didn’t want to think about him, or what he was doing, right now.
At the end of her self-imposed walking track, she stopped. Her leg throbbed, but it was a good ache, a healthy ache, like after a hard workout in the gym. Nothing like the rabid pain she’d endured the last week.
After a sip of water and a deep breath, she got started on her next walk.
“Hey, you aren’t supposed to be doing this by yourself.” Emerson bustled over, followed by a pregnant Santha Kade.
The doc looked her usual harried self, but Cruz’s partner, Santha, was glowing. Her copper-brown skin was luminous and her long, black hair lustrous. Pregnancy clearly agreed with her. Small round belly aside, Claudia recognized another warrior when she saw one. A former SWAT officer, Santha could hold her own in a fight, and she ran the intelligence team.
“Cute bump.”
Santha pressed a hand to her small belly and smiled. “Thanks.”
Emerson grabbed Claudia’s arm. “I thought Shaw was with you.”
Ignoring the clench of her heart, Claudia raised a brow. “He had other things to do. Probably with that blonde schoolteacher or that redhead from supplies. Hell, maybe both.”
The two women went silent, and it made Claudia want to twitch. The images her words conjured made her sick, mad, and sad all together.
“Sit.” Emerson helped her into the camp chair under the tree. Then the doc crouched, her lab coat dragging on the grass, and checked Claudia’s leg. “Well, the good news is, your leg is already getting better. It’s going to be fine.”
Claudia let out a breath. “Good.” She pressed her hands together to stop them from shaking. She hadn’t realized how afraid she’d been. “Good.”
“The bad news is that you and Shaw are idiots.”
Claudia blinked. “Come again?”
“That man has been hanging on by a thread since you were taken. He barely slept or ate, unless he was bullied into it. He spent every minute out searching for you
, or back here poring over drone feed for the slightest hint of your location.”
Claudia swallowed the massive lump in her throat.
“What do you think that means?” Emerson continued.
“He’s a friend,” Claudia managed. “A good squad mate.”
Santha made a sound. When Claudia lifted her head, the woman was staring at her.
“What?” Claudia snapped. “Don’t stand there looking all calm and Madonna-ish.”
“You just watched Marcus, Cruz, Gabe, and Reed blunder through taking the fall,” Santha said. “Don’t you recognize the signs?”
Claudia’s heart did that stupid clench again. She pressed her lips together. She so did not want to talk about this.
Emerson shook her head. “You are so stubborn.”
“Love is for suckers,” Claudia said. “Present company excluded, of course.”
“Of course.” Santha smiled. “Come on, Frost. You have more balls than this. Regardless of your gender.”
Claudia pushed awkwardly to her feet. “He’s a ladies’ man, and that’s okay. He’s not a one-woman man.”
“And that’s what you want?” Emerson asked.
“Yes. No. Ugh, stop confusing me.” Claudia couldn’t make an easy escape with the damn brace on her leg, so she dropped back into the chair and crossed her arms. “I don’t really go for the girly chit-chat. So how about we talk about something else? Or the two of you can just head off and bask in your loved-up happiness together and leave me out of it.”
They just stayed there. Silent, patient, and so damned annoying.
“Fine.” Claudia looked out over the town, her gaze falling on the empty houses not far away. One had a dilapidated swing set in the front yard, one seat dangling listlessly, its chain broken on one side. “I was married once.”
She glanced back at Emerson and Santha to see they both looked like she’d butted them in the face with her carbine.
A rueful smile curled her lips. “Yes, I was married. I was young, barely out of my teens. Broke my wrist playing college volleyball. At the hospital, a young doctor patched me up.” God, it all seemed so long ago. Like a dream. She saw the two women watching, waiting for the rest. “He rocked the lab coat better than you, Emerson. He was Prince Charming. Handsome, cultured, and interested in a tomboy like me.”