He leaned against the wall to keep from falling on his ass in front of the Merc soldiers. What the hell was wrong with him? He had to regain control and go after Sami. The instant one of the Mercs gave him an opening, he was taking it.
* * *
Sami crept low along buildings in Merc territory. The sun beat down, hotter than it should be this early in the morning. She’d been scouting for nearly an hour, going through nicely kept mansions. The Mercs had gotten rid of any bodies or rotting food, so the search thus far had been pleasant, unlike many of her scouting missions.
Damon Winter was following her, and she’d lost him twice, but he’d caught her scent. The guy was part bloodhound. Probably had been a good cop.
For now, she let him tail her as she went through another mansion. Like the others, the cupboards were bare. The Mercs’ food had to be stored in a central location, and so far, she hadn’t found it. Or the medicine and weapons.
Think, damn it.
While neither man would appreciate the comparison, Greyson Storm and Jax Mercury were similar. So, where had Jax located his stores? Some of the Vanguard’s weapons, medicine, and food were kept at headquarters. Sami needed to get back in the main house and check for a basement.
Yet many of Vanguard’s provisions were under guard at various warehouses throughout the territory. Merc territory was a hell of a lot larger than Vanguard, so those storage areas could be anywhere. But they’d have to be close enough for Greyson to get to quickly. She sighed and dodged out the back door of the house, stopping when she spotted Damon leaning against a fountain of a massive fairy with wings. A quiet fountain since water no longer flowed.
“I’m tired of the cat and mouse,” he said, crossing muscled arms. Today he’d worn a Merc black T-shirt, dark jeans, and a gun at his hip. “It’s getting hot.”
“Then go back inside and fan yourself.” The cat and mouse had brought back some bad memories of hiding from cops in the past, and she was almost relieved he’d stopped the game. Cops had made her nervous since her first illegal hack, and she had to control her expression as she faced Damon squarely.
He watched her like a hawk seeing a mouse on the ground. “How about I tell you that you’re not gonna find our stockpiles, you tell me to go to hell, and then we actually talk about why you’re lying to everyone about being an LAPD rookie?”
She swallowed and tried to appear bored. “Did anybody ever tell you that you look a little like Shemar Moore?”
He lifted his chin. “No, but I did have a girlfriend tell me I looked like Taye Diggs once.”
She studied him. “Humph.”
“I didn’t think so, either.” No. There was a hardness to Damon that came from real life and not television. “Why, Sami?”
“I wasn’t lying. Maybe you are, or perhaps you didn’t know every single cop in LA. I mean, ten thousand people worked for the LAPD before Scorpius.” She’d learned to speak slower and almost in a drawl when lying.
He nodded. “You’re right, but I also can discern a lie, and you’re definitely not being truthful. Who was your deputy chief? Your commander? Your captain?”
“I’m not doing this.” She brushed by him toward a large garden shed beyond an overgrown lawn.
“That’s why I don’t believe you. Hell, that’s why nobody believes you,” Damon continued from behind her. “Of course there’s a chance I wouldn’t know you—there were tons of cops. But you don’t move like a cop, Sami.”
She pivoted. “You’ve seen me fight.”
“Oh, you can fight, but you don’t move like a cop. You don’t scout the area like a cop, and you sure as shit don’t hold yourself like one.” He shook his head. “It’s something learned on the job, and you have never been on that job.”
She crossed her arms, bluffing for all she had. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.”
“No. I can cause trouble for you within Vanguard if I push this, lady.” He moved toward her, all muscled grace.
Heat ignited down her back. “What are you saying?”
He narrowed his gaze as if thinking. “I’ll keep quiet, maybe even remember you as a rookie, but you owe me.”
She stepped back, more than ready to kick his ass. But from the way he moved, she knew he could fight. What was he saying? She shivered. How long had it been since the ex-cop had had a woman? “Excuse me? What exactly do you want in trade, asshole?”
His head jerked. “Geez. Not that. Give me a break.”
She glared and the world seemed to close in on her. “Right.”
“I look like Shemar, remember? I don’t need to blackmail women for sex. Ever.” He did appear a little affronted.
Sami studied him. “You don’t really look like him. I take it back.”
“Okay.” Damon sighed. “Listen. Just give me schematics of Vanguard territory, locations of provisions, a breakdown of the fighting forces, and we’ll call it even. I’ll back your story up with Tace, and nobody will ever be the wiser about your lying.”
She reared back. “You want to blackmail me to betray Vanguard?”
He shrugged. “Same information you’ve been trying to get on us the whole time you’ve been here. Give me the information, and I won’t turn you in to your own people.”
She crossed her arms. “You Mercs all use blackmail. That’s weak and pathetic.”
“Answer the questions.”
“No.” She didn’t even need to stop and think.
“You’d sacrifice your position there to protect them?” he asked.
For so long, she’d been running and hiding. Now she’d found a place of safety, and giving Damon the information he wanted would keep her there. But she thought of Tace, Jax, and Raze. Her fellow soldiers. She thought of Lynne Harmony with her blue heart, and Vinnie Wellington, who’d shown Raze he had a heart. And she thought of little blond Lena, who might already know her secret. There was really only one answer. “Yeah. So turn me in and do your worst. I’m not giving you shit about Vanguard.”
Damon’s chin lowered. “Fine. Then turn back, and let’s go talk with Greyson about your scouting activities here today.”
“No.” She settled her stance, wanting nothing more than to kick Damon’s butt.
He stilled. “You don’t want to fight me, little warrior. The guys you’ve been training with are on your side and make sure not to harm you. I’m not on your side.”
“Oh, buddy. Let’s go.” She clenched her hands into fists, her entire body lighting with anticipation. The previous night with Tace had left her confused and emotional; this would be an excellent way to focus and deal. Making the ex-cop bleed was just a bonus. “You make a move.”
“I don’t think so.” Greyson Storm loped out of the house, long and lean and looking a bit more than mean. His black-T-shirt stretched tight across his muscled torso, and his torn jeans hugged tight hips. Those odd eyes appeared all blue in the morning light. Alert and dangerous.
Damon stepped back. “Would’ve been a good fight.”
Sami scoffed. “I doubt it.”
Grey eyed her head to toe. “I like that you wouldn’t sacrifice Vanguard for yourself.”
“Gee, thanks.” The thought occurred to her to take on both men, but she’d seen Grey fight, and she’d need to handle him by himself to even have a chance. He was skilled enough that she’d have to really hurt him to win.
“The question is, what would you sacrifice for Tace Justice?” Grey asked calmly.
She stilled, her focus narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“At the moment, he’s surrounded by guns. Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll make sure nobody fires.” Greyson smiled, and his eyes lost all expression. “Stay silent and stubborn, and we’ll see if your boy likes the taste of lead.”
Chapter Eight
The aftermath of the apocalypse is when life will get interesting.
—Dr. Frank X. Harmony, Philosophies
Tace eyed the three guys holding guns on him and worked out the math y
et again. Take the gun from the first guy, use him as a shield, and then shoot the other two guys. His odds sucked. “We seem to have an issue here.”
“What’s that?” the first guy on the right asked, showing a large gap between his front two teeth.
“If I shoot any of you, I’m the medic. Do you really want to fire on the one guy who can patch you up if you’re injured?” He leaned to look around them at the Scorpius patient now thrashing on the bed. “He might be upset with you if he awakens.”
The soldiers angled to the side.
“Help him,” Bad Teeth ordered.
“Nope.” Tace crossed his arms. The feeling was rapidly returning to his head and limbs, and his vision had cleared. Whatever these attacks were, they ended quickly. So far. His mind tried to rush to Sami, and he held tight, keeping calm. The woman could fight; she’d be all right. Yet everything in him wanted to run through the guns to reach her.
“You’re a doctor. You have to help,” said the second soldier, a blond kid still fighting pimples.
Tace shook his head, relieved when dizziness didn’t bombard him again. “I’m not a doctor. I’m a field medic from the army. Drop the guns, or your buddy there dies.”
“If you’re a medic, you’ve taken an oath to save lives,” Blond Guy muttered.
“The old rules and oaths are dead, kid. Drop the guns,” Tace said, truly meaning the words. Less than a month ago, he would’ve felt obligated to help the sick man. Now most of him didn’t care. He was broken, and that thought alone should keep him the hell away from Sami. Except to protect her, of course.
The guy on the stretcher moaned and kicked out, finishing with a high-pitched scream.
Tension filled the air, and Tace moved off the wall and into a fighting stance. “Boys?”
“Jesus. Put the guns down.” Greyson stalked into the room, wiping blood off his lip. “Help the man, Justice.” The soldiers lowered their guns and backed out of the room. Greyson half turned. “Go patrol the beach.” Bootsteps answered his order.
Tace lifted his head, his body going into overdrive. “What happened to your mouth?” The Merc leader’s lip was already swelling nice and fat.
“Your woman kicked me in the face,” Greyson growled, gingerly touching his mouth.
Anger, the real kind, sped through Tace so quickly his ears burned. “What did you do?” He advanced.
Grey held up a hand. “Just threatened to shoot you. We didn’t touch her.”
Tace paused. A smile tickled his mouth, and warmth bloomed in his chest. “She was defending me?”
“Apparently.” Greyson frowned. “She didn’t need to kick me in the mouth though.” He shook his head as Tace started to ask the question. “Of course I didn’t retaliate. Even though it’d be a fun contest, I don’t hit women. Even mean ones who kick a guy in the lips just for making an ordinary threat against somebody not even present. God.”
“Tace?” Sami called out.
Tace hustled to the door to see her stomping inside, her hair in twin braids, irritation marring her smooth skin. Without any makeup on, she looked like an angry teenager. “You okay?” he asked, watching her entire body settle into calmness.
“Fine. You?” She looked beyond him to glare at Grey. “You’re a shitty bluffer, Storm.”
Grey shrugged and then winced as the guy behind him screeched.
Tace turned and headed for the counter and another syringe. “He can’t have another sedative for an hour, but he’s due vitamin B.” The needle went in smoothly, and Tace plunged the contents through him. The patient continued to thrash, his face a bright red. Tace felt his cheeks. “He’s burning up. Do you have anything resembling ice around here?”
“No, but I can get more cool cloths,” Greyson said.
“I have cloths,” Tace muttered. They were going to lose another one, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
The patient seized.
“Shit. What’s his name?” Tace asked.
“Goes by Bucknell,” Grey said. “Think it was his last name, but he’s never said.”
Tace noted the guy’s labored breathing. The next progression would be—
The guy jerked up, his body shuddering.
“Damn it.” Tace immediately started CPR. “You been infected?” he asked Grey.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Breathe into his mouth when I tell you to.” Tace counted out his thumps and told Greyson to breathe. Even though Sami had been infected, he didn’t want her near a thrashing man.
They worked on Bucknell for nearly twenty minutes. Tace continued to perform CPR. Finally, Greyson leaned back and clapped Tace on the arm. Lines cut into the sides of the Mercenary leader’s now-swollen mouth. “He’s gone.”
Tace leaned back and wiped his brow. “Call it. He’s your man.”
“He was,” Grey said, his eyes a somber green through the blue. “Damn it.”
“I’m sorry,” Tace said, seeing Sami position herself to his left.
Greyson nodded and then his gaze focused on Sami. “No need, lady. I’m not blaming Justice for this.”
“Just making sure,” she said, her voice soft.
Tace cut her a look. She’d immediately taken his back just in case. Somehow, that thought banished some of the darkness surrounding him. But she kept her gaze on Grey and didn’t meet Tace’s eyes. Wonderful. They’d almost gone horizontal and nude the night before. Now things were going to be awkward. Tace sighed.
Greyson straightened. “We’ll bury him this afternoon and celebrate his life tonight. I promised you guys fresh fish, and you didn’t get it last night. We also have some good booze from these rich homes.”
Sami rubbed her nose. “I’m sorry for your loss, Greyson.”
A groan came from the other room.
Greyson turned and jogged into the post-op area. A second later, he called out. “Ah, Justice? Should this guy be bleeding all over?”
Damn it. “No.” Tace pivoted and ran to find one of his earlier patients spitting blood. “Ah, crap. Okay. I need brighter lights and a surgical kit. Now.” It was going to be a long afternoon.
* * *
Sami paced outside the surgical room as weird squishy sounds emerged along with an occasional grunt and order from Tace for Greyson to do something. To tie something off or hand over an implement.
“I need more hyoscyamine as well as another saline pack,” Tace snapped.
Sami edged closer to the door, her stomach cramping. The desperate smell of blood was everywhere. “Tace?”
“Now, Greyson,” Tace said, his voice cracking. “We’re gonna lose him.”
“I can’t take my hands out of his chest right now,” Greyson hissed.
Sami poked her head in, relieved that Greyson’s broad back blocked her view of the guy with his chest apparently open. The metallic smell of blood nearly dropped her to her knees. “I can get it.”
Grey turned and pinned her with a hard look. Dots of sweat collected across his forehead. “Call one of my men.”
“There’s not time,” Tace said, edging to the side.
Sami took a step back. Blood had splattered across his neck. “Trust us, Greyson.”
The Merc leader gave a low growl. “Fine. The nearest storage area is across the back street in the house with blue shutters. Go down to the basement, find the utility closet to the left, and shove a hidden panel out of the way. It was a panic room for the rich people. The medicine is on the far right.”
Sami turned and launched herself into motion, running through the building and out the back door. A quiet street fronted by overgrown lawns and huge houses surrounded her. The sun beat down, making her shield her eyes. The blue shutters caught her attention at a three-story house with red roses along the front.
She ran across the already cracking driveway and up the stairs, pushing open the door. Cool, stale air slapped her. She shut the door in case any of Greyson’s guys came by. An unlit but still sparkly chandelier hung down from two st
ories up; a staircase went up to the right and down to the left, the stairs alternating between black and white tiles. She hustled down into darkness. Shit. A table sat at the bottom, and as she neared, she could make out several flashlights. Smart.
Flipping one on, she turned left and ran down the hallway, pushing open a closet door. Empty shelves lined the walls. Reaching the end, she tapped the beige-painted wall and then pushed to the side.
It rolled open to reveal a room probably half the length of the house. Guns were tacked to the west wall, water was stacked to the north, and medicine, tons and tons of it, took up all the shelves on the east wall. She ran forward and cataloged the vitamin B vials. At least three hundred vials were there.
She tried to memorize the different drugs while searching for the right one. Finding it, she grabbed a vial, a couple of syringes, and a saline bag. They had at least fifty saline bags. For good measure, she grabbed a bunch of gauze and several large bandages.
Greyson must’ve been one of the first to scavenge the local hospital.
Turning, she noted a large number seven tacked to the door. Seven? Were there at least six other depots like this?
She wanted to take more medicine, but she didn’t have a pack. So she hurried up the stairs and into the glaring heat, running across the road to the former workout facility.
Reaching the surgical room, she paused. “I have the stuff.”
“Over here,” Tace muttered, his hands in the guy’s chest.
Sami kept her gaze averted and moved his way, dropping the materials on a table. “Do you, ah, need me to do anything?” She tried to breathe out, but nausea rolled up her throat.
“Yes. Fill the syringe to the second line,” Tace said.
Sami did so, her hand shaking.
“Leave it on the table and go outside. I can’t have you puking,” he said, his voice not unkind.
She turned and bolted, taking several deep breaths outside. If it had been such an emergency, why did she leave the syringe on the table? Maybe Tace was using it right now.
Just how calculated had he become? Had he faked something so important during surgery just so they could find the resources? Was Greyson even needed in there?
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