by Angela White
As if she heard, Angela’s hand slid from the gun.
Kyle took her cold fingers into his warm grip and closed his eyes. When shit hit the fan, he was the one to call, but he also had a soft side that most of the sheep and the shepherds would have been surprised to discover. Holding Angela so that Adrian could burn her was a torment, a bond, and Kyle didn’t think he would ever be free of it.
Jeremy slid down next to Cynthia, noting that she still had her gun in her hand. He gently wrapped his jacket around her shoulders, but didn’t tell her to put the weapon away. Though only a rookie, she was now an Eagle, with her own choices to make.
“Thanks.” The smell of his jacket was thick with the battle, but the heat was welcome. Cynthia wasn’t sure she would ever be warm again.
“Sure.” Jeremy waited, wondering if she wanted to talk, but the reporter only leaned her head against the brick wall.
After a minute, Jeremy did the same, glad he didn’t have to deal with it yet. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her joining, or even what she’d done, beyond being as grateful as everyone else. Cynthia was an Eagle…one of them. That dangerous fact would require some adjustment.
Still a bit dazed and not totally convinced that he or any of them had actually survived, Jeremy let the darkness take him away.
Sleep, however, came cruelly. It snatched rest and provided moments of heart wrenching terror that snapped men awake with fearful, desperate breathing. It was the only noise heard for hours.
5
The sound of a snarling engine being pushed to the limit jerked Eagles into a tense, groggy alertness. They exchanged worried glances as they waited in the rest stop, but didn’t draw weapons. That was a Safe Haven setup roaring through the cleared road behind them. Marc had made the five-hour trip in three.
Adrian himself went to open the door.
Walking through the smoldering wreckage in front of the rest stop, Marc’s mind spun furiously. The plan had worked. Perfectly, it appeared. The carnage was indescribable, but Angela had been hurt. What didn’t I account for?
Marc’s tortured gaze landed on the tacky pool of blood congealing near the main door. He knew who it belonged to, and fear shoved against his wall.
Marc bent down and retrieved Angela’s Python, mind screaming to brace. There was only one way you took a gun from Angie’s fingers...
Please let her live. Please. I’ll give anything. I’ll get on board with the dream or assassinate him. Whatever you want, just please, let her live!
There was no answer.
Marc didn’t look at Adrian as he came to the door, not sure his wall was strong enough to hold. He was glad when the leader got out of his way. Right now, there was no one on the planet that he wanted dead more than Adrian.
“John’s in the truck, armed.”
Swallowing the icy chill of being treated as if he was nobody, Adrian obeyed Marc’s order and went outside to get the doctor.
Kyle motioned Seth after the humbled leader, glad there hadn’t been a fight. None of them were sure how Marc would react, though Neil had said there wouldn’t be a problem until word came on Angela. If she lived, Neil thought the two men would sort it out. If she died, so would one of them, though, it wasn’t a lock on who that would be.
Marc wasn’t aware of the concerned mutters, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The sight of Angela lying there, so still and bloody, had him shoring up sudden cracks in his mental defenses.
When he could speak, Marc asked, “How bad?”
Neil didn’t lie. “Too soon to tell.”
Marc staggered, reaching out for the wall to keep from falling. Angie!
Silence.
He’d called for her mentally all the way here, and received the same. It had been terrifying then, but here and now, looking at her lifeless form, it was enough to flip him into the Marine.
Footsteps echoed.
Marc locked down on all of it and moved back, arms crossing over his chest.
“I need more light!” John barked as he rushed to Angela.
The Eagles hurried to assist.
“Did it go through?” John asked.
“Yes,” Neil answered.
“She woken at all?”
“Not for hours now,” Kyle muttered.
Marc’s profile became menacing when John peeled the bandage off.
“There wasn’t time for more.”
Marc gave Kyle a curt grunt. He’d assumed that as soon as he saw the awful lengths they’d gone to in order to stop the bleeding. It had been life or death… Still was.
There was a thick silence while John worked and everyone was glad that Angela didn’t come to when he had the helpers roll her onto her side. Marc didn’t glance away once.
“I don’t feel any fragments… If her fingers work, we’ll know about nerve damage…” John was carefully probing the wound. He didn’t tell them that he was noticing pockets under her charred skin–implying she was still losing blood at a very slow rate. The bullet had probably nicked an artery, but she wasn’t stable enough to undergo surgery. It would have to wait.
“Will she live?” Cynthia asked the question that the rest of them were afraid to.
“Ask me again in 24 hours,” John grunted curtly.
Even Adrian recoiled this time and Marc sensed the self-loathing underneath as the leader observed what he’d failed to prevent.
“How long before we can move her?” Neil asked.
“Another day would be best. Half that if it’s not safe here, but slow travel,” the doctor answered tersely.
“You’ll stay with her?” Adrian questioned.
“Of course,” John confirmed, covering her back up. Until she was stronger, there was little he could do but what these tortured men already had been–wait and hope.
Anne had wanted to come too, but John had refused and left her standing with a scowl. Safe Haven was well protected, and the doctor wasn’t letting her leave that light. These men may have to accept their heart being torn up, shot at…killed, but not him. Because of her age, Anne couldn’t be in Adrian’s army.
“Don’t you think…she would be safer…as an Eagle?”
Angela’s tightly controlled voice said she’d been awake for his doctoring.
“I’ll never allow that!” John’s timbre, in contrast, was a furious denial.
Marc immediately went to Angela’s side, not caring about the conversation–only that she was part of it.
Her lashes fluttered. “It’s already…happening.”
“What!” John’s countenance was a mask of thunder. “You sneaky bastard!”
“It was her idea,” Cynthia stated, full of the new, unarguable need to protect and defend. “Anne came to his tent while I was…spying.”
Cynthia’s admission earned instant forgiveness with the Eagles, even those who hadn’t known of her vendetta. Honesty was everything.
“What did my wife say?” the doctor demanded of Adrian.
“She told me you’re dying of Cancer, and she’ll leave unless Angela tries to help you,” Adrian brutally spilled the secret that John had tried to keep from everyone. “She said she’d just as soon rot alone somewhere than to keep serving the very people who let you die.”
John was speechless, and Adrian tiredly finished the ugly intervention.
“She also said she understood it wasn’t likely to save you, but that she wants to be an Eagle so she can watch your six as you fade. So long as we try, she’ll take your place.” Adrian held a hand out. “Her words, not mine.”
“She had…to hide it from you.”
The doctor stifled a wounded sob at Angela’s faint croak.
The weakness in Angela’s voice was enough to make Marc slide to his knees at her bedside. He’d been on battlefields too much to ever mistake this feeling. Death was here, lingering.
“Because I lied when we came, she couldn’t ask.” John was trapped inside his own hell for this moment. “You would have told Adrian.”
“She has a…job to do.” Angela’s nails dug furrows into Neil’s wrist as surges of agony twisted through her shoulder. “Let her.”
Angela’s body tensed as the pain grew deeper and Marc snapped his head around to glare at John, telling him that was enough.
John’s gaze went over the crusted, bloody outlines of Kyle’s fingerprints on Angela’s chest and closed his mouth.
Angela was barely aware of a sharp prick as John came over to set up a fresh IV tap and give her a light dose of relief. Angela had read the part in Twilight and thought she’d understood, thought she’d felt it, but this fire was a level of hell that she’d never been to. Even childbirth, with its dull aches and ripping pains, couldn’t compete with the burning.
Where I come from, where I go, it’s always flaming like this, the witch whispered gently in the back of her mind, afraid to make things worse.
Still by the door, Adrian’s heart thumped as he picked up her presence.
I thought you were gone–fled to find a new host, Angela answered tiredly. In her mind, it took less effort to communicate, but it still drained her to think around the pain.
We share power. If I had stayed, I would have come forward and healed you. These men would not have been able to hold a secret so large.
Even in her agony, Angela was astounded. Adrian had converted the witch! Sexually, she’d been prepared for–spirits were lusty creatures because they could no longer feel through their own flesh–but to have the demon inside willing to sacrifice her for the dream was almost too much to accept.
Why come now? Am I in the clear?
Silence.
I hate it when you do that, Angela grumbled, close to crying again as the pain increased.
She heard the Eagle closest to her moan in distress, but couldn’t even open her eyes. She’d never felt pain like this.
I needed to check the healer’s mind, the witch answered evasively.
You aren’t sure, Angela realized in fear.
I dread ever having to face the choice, the witch confessed miserably, but is that not how you would have it?
Angela barely heard that, tears now oozing from under her closed lids. This pain!
“Do something for her!”
Marc’s glare was refused by John. “She’s not strong enough for anything more.”
Marc turned to glower at Adrian. “Help her.”
Adrian also shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Marc accused. He knew Adrian was gifted in more ways than he’d let his men see.
“It’s limited by gender,” Adrian replied evasively.
Thick blackness swam around the edges, muting the conversation while waiting for Angela to surrender, but she held on grimly. These might be her last waking moments and she wanted every second of them.
“So, there’s nothing we can do?” Marc asked angrily.
It was a realization that the other men there had already come to accept–and loathe.
Adrian didn’t answer and the witch reached out.
Will you give them up? the demon seduced. Trade the herd for her?
Can’t I have both?
Never.
Not without a small measure of pity, the witch withdrew to her fiery den instead of making him feel worse. There were always prices to be paid. Having so many of the descendants together was wonderful in the uses, but it was also heavy in the weight. Adrian would carry as much of her discomfort as he was able to ease, but in time, he would need the same favor. Heartbreak was not to be lightly dismissed. It was one of the most dangerous things that humans gave to each other.
Sure she wouldn’t be awake long, Angela took advantage of the respite to fulfill a promise that she’d made to herself while Adrian burned her.
Thank you for choosing us to stop the slavers. It was our honor to serve as YOUR hand of justice.
Still connected, Adrian flinched as if stung. He had turned her into a killer and she was thanking God for it. Was there a more perfect woman anywhere?
At her side, Marc covered her tenderly with his jacket.
“Mmm…”
Feeling things start to come together again gave Adrian little comfort this time, thrusting him back into the role that he feared he was growing weary of. Carrying so much guilt was staggering.
Marc was glad to see that Angela was breathing easier than when he’d arrived, and allowed himself to hope for the first time since being swarmed by a blast of dry heat. Most people would have ignored the moment, but Marc knew that sensation. He’d left camp ten minutes later.
Now, his inner Marine began estimating her chances of survival. John’s words had been far from reassuring, but learning of the doctor’s illness almost was. John would do anything he could to save Angela, so that he could save himself. There was no higher motivation.
Turning to face the room, Marc slid down and leaned his head against Angela’s arm.
Exhausted, he fell into a light doze, broken only by fifteen-minute checks of her and the room.
6
An hour later, Adrian motioned for him to switch with Neil, and Marc realized he wasn’t as furious now. Adrian had saved her life. There was no way any of his Eagles had been ‘around’ enough to think of car lighters.
“I’m sorry.”
Marc found he actually held a bit of sympathy. Hadn’t he made his own grave error in Versailles? He’d been the one to get this all rolling by leaving her alone, forcing her to kill.
“Hearing her screams will give a grown man nightmares,” Marc stated carefully.
“Yes.”
Adrian’s expression said sleeping was something he wouldn’t do until forced to. Allowing females into his army might have been the smartest thing their leader had ever done…or the worst choice he’d made. From here, it was impossible to know.
As Marc slid carefully into Neil’s warm spot, Adrian revealed his inner turmoil.
“What would she do now…if I pulled it all?”
Other than people turning their way, there was complete silence at Adrian’s show of doubt. It was unexpected, especially after his words to them before the wolfman had arrived.
Marc didn’t want to answer, and again, it was Cynthia who blurted the truth.
“Die.” Her voice lowered to a mutter as the males in the room turned to glare at her. “Along with Safe Haven…and our future.”
There it was, Cynthia declaring her loyalty to the dream.
Marc closed his eyes in distressed resignation. “You shouldn’t do that. She gets cranky when you take away something she needs.”
Heart crying behind his wall, Marc tucked Angela safely against his warm body and tried to rest until it was time to go.
Chapter Two
Rockin’ Rough
May 13th
Ellsworth Country Club
1
Twelve hours after Marc arrived, the convoy rolled out of the rest stop with Angela’s ragged breathing filling the truck. Cushioned by jackets and blankets, she clutched Marc’s shirt with her good hand and soaked them both with her tears.
It didn’t take long for John to do what the other men had wanted all along. He sedated her–slipping the needle into her arm before she had a chance to protest again.
The wreckage around the site wasn’t smoking anymore, only stinking and smoldering resentfully, and the pristine grounds of the country club were a welcome change of scenery.
Despite their careful movements, Angela’s wound was bleeding by the time they got her settled into a front room of the wealthily furnished club and John added a few quick stitches while she was unconscious. When he was satisfied, he took the chair on her left.
Marc settled into the one on her right.
Adrian and his Eagles gathered on the long, white porch to make plans.
“Midnight tomorrow, the main mission team rolls out. Myself, Seth, and Jeff will take John back to Safe Haven. Everyone else remains with Angela. When the gunfire with the slaver camp start
s, we’ll guide the herd here. Get us set up to stay a week, and make a plan in case we can’t.”
Realizing Safe Haven would come to her, the men fell into the details with lighter hearts. Angela had looked rough as Marc carried her inside. Another road trip might kill her.
As the others moved off to take care of things, Kyle stayed on Adrian’s right, waiting for the details their leader usually wouldn’t give to anyone else.
Instead, Adrian asked a question that both men had already answered for themselves.
“Would you change anything?”
Kyle wanted to say yes, but couldn’t. “No. They’re dead–she’s not.”
“She feels the same.”
“I know.”
“But?”
Kyle had been thinking about his purpose in this new world, and he revealed his fears (sins) in a low mutter of confusion. “Before the war, I had killed five men…and one talkative prostitute.”
Adrian waited, finally getting the reason for almost not welcoming Kyle into his Safe Haven. His first instinct had said that Kyle was indeed the killer-for-hire he appeared to be, but a second voice had promised that the Italian would only kill for him now. That had been enough to sway Adrian. It was a role that he had needed to fill–desperately.
“I’ve racked up near a hundred as an Eagle, and that’s only the ones I’ve done, not those I’ve ordered.” Kyle was flooding with something he knew they didn’t need right now, but couldn’t help–guilt. “I’m damned.”
“We all are.” Adrian was sympathetic, but his expression said Kyle had known what he’d signed up for after the very first mercy run.
Kyle wanted something Adrian couldn’t give–absolution–and he stopped himself from saying anything else. Usually, talking to their leader was a comfort, but this time, it had drawn anger.
Flashes of holding Angela while Adrian burned her slapped Kyle, and he reluctantly went to her room.
Marc and John snapped-to when he opened the door.
“What?”
“Is there a problem?”
“We’re 5-by.” Kyle’s gaze went to Angela, who was crying again from under closed lashes. “What about her?”