The Life After War Collection

by Angela White

  As Jeremy vanished into the parking area, Leslie got the attention of everyone in earshot with a quick warning.

  “If he comes to you, it will only be for relief. He loves Samantha.”

  Bridget went up to the line to take her turn. “I’m not interested in him.”

  Leslie gave her a dirty glare at the obvious lie. “Like that matters.”

  “We always offer support to the Eagles when they pick one of us,” Tracy explained, tone friendlier than Leslie’s had been. “It’s an honor to serve.”

  Bridget finished her set and rejoined the small circle. “Jeremy isn’t the only one who will like me because I look like her.”

  She stared at Becky’s tent, where Lee and Neil were now chatting lightly. “When that one comes to me, I’ll make him fall in love and then Jeremy can have Sam. It’ll be perfect,” Bridget stated, missing the frowns of all the other females.

  Samantha overheard the remark as she walked by and the words sank down into her gut. Wasn’t that how it should be? Neil certainly deserved happiness, as did Jeremy. It was herself that she wasn’t so sure about.

  Samantha ducked quietly into the tent shadows and circled around to listen to Leslie’s rueful response.

  “Good luck, then. When she came, it was like the rest of us no longer existed.”

  Bridget wasn’t discouraged. “You ladies didn’t have the advantage that I do.”

  “What advantage?” Megan demanded. “I have the same features.”

  Bridget glanced over in a patronizing insult. “Obviously not, honey, or he would have been staring at you.”

  Samantha tensed. This one was mean.

  “So what’s the advantage?” Leslie insisted, not sure if she wanted Bridget’s plan to work out that way. Leslie had many male friends in Safe Haven and while she’d like to narrow the field a bit, having to pick only one had kept her from doing it. If she could have two…

  Bridget flipped her hair over her shoulder so that it would catch the light. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourselves. We aren’t friends yet.”

  Samantha resumed her walk, but didn’t relax. Bridget was probably counting on being able to play on Neil’s emotions, but what if she was like the other gifted people here and hiding it as Jennifer now was?

  Trailing him, Samantha noted that Jeremy hesitated and then went to his truck. He sat on the tailgate, staring at the place where they’d napped earlier. He appeared forsaken.

  Jeremy’s the one I might lose, Samantha told herself. Their bond wasn’t nearly as strong.

  Samantha felt the chill of old loneliness coming and resisted being pulled into the darkness.

  Not yet, she thought, moving toward Jeremy. Let me have a little more happiness, okay? Just a little.

  Jeremy felt her coming and found himself comparing her to the other blonde, but his heart pounded too hard to be able to concentrate.

  Nothing less will satisfy, he realized. Heart ass could go back on the market.

  “Can I join you?”

  Jeremy found the air to speak with. “You don’t have to ask.”

  Samantha sent out a wave of happiness, stealing his breath. “I know.” She glanced at the truck bed. “A blanket this time?”

  Jeremy immediately got up and retrieved his bedroll from the front, sensing she wasn’t ready for the offer of his tent that he longed to make.

  Samantha helped him, enjoying the brush of his hands and body as they worked together. They resumed their previous positions with a small intake of air, a rough groan, and lay there in silent contentment.

  As they began to drift, Jeremy again dropped his walls and tried to stay close to her light.

  7

  “She’s ready.”

  “Copy.”

  Marc went to the medical tent, where Angela had gone after the meeting. He’d expected that, but not for her to hold out another three hours. Where was she pulling the strength? She’d still been beat after drawing from him. He, on the other hand, felt wiped out.

  You need to feed her more, the demon advised. She’s doing more now, caring for more.

  Marc didn’t like the phrasing after the morning’s sexual concerns, but he didn’t respond. If he started talking with the demon, he might get used to using it, to having it there, and that would be dangerous.

  You could bow out, the demon replied sweetly. Adrian will give her what she needs.

  Marc stomped into the medical tent, furious, but it was gone the second he spotted Angela. It appeared that she’d fallen out of alertness gradually, and was now slumped uncomfortably over Adrian’s arm.

  Marc approached them silently, but Adrian’s eyes flew open the instant he got close. Unable to do much more than yell, that instinct to protect her was still strong.

  The two men stared at each other for a long moment, both wondering if this would become a habit for them–sharing her.

  “I hope not,” Adrian stated finally, voice a hoarse croak that didn’t get even a stir from the tired woman they were both so bonded to. “That would hurt her.”

  Marc agreed, jaw clamped tight to keep from telling Adrian that he should have died and then there wouldn’t be any chance of it.

  “It’s what I wanted.”

  Marc took that in coldly. “And now?”

  Adrian wound his fingers, all he was capable of moving, through her tangled curls. He gave a gentle tug and then let go. “It hasn’t changed. She should have let me die.”

  “It’s worse now,” Marc guessed, remembering his own strengthened longings after Angie had healed him. “Like you can’t breathe and she’s the air.”

  “I’ve never been on this end of it,” Adrian confessed. “I’m fighting.”

  Marc knew that, but it didn’t appear to matter. He ignored the urge to curse Adrian, and carefully lifted Angela into his arms.

  Angry and stressed, it still would have been impossible to miss the naked fear in Adrian’s eyes as he observed.

  Marc hated himself for feeling compassion and kept his mouth shut until they were out in the cool night air.

  Marc gestured to Kevin, who appeared as beat as the woman snuggling into his embrace. “Adrian needs company.”

  Kevin sighed. “I’ll get Tracy to sit with him.”

  Marc thought of Charlie. “Make that Cynthia.”

  Adrian’s chosen females were all quickly becoming off limits.

  Kevin wanted to argue, but couldn’t. If Marc was sharing Angie with the boss man, how could he protest?

  “She wants to be there for him,” Marc stated. “Go get her.”

  Kevin went slowly, jealously, even though Adrian was clearly in no shape to do anything. He just…

  “I want her time for myself,” he grumbled. “And that’s wrong. I have to let her work.”

  Kevin vanished into the darkness and Marc continued to the center QZ tent without guilt. He was sure that Cynthia could use a break from fending off Matt, who wanted to cement their relationship physically.

  Marc smirked, sliding Angie into the open bedroll. Yeah, he definitely had the better end of that stick.

  8

  “Stay on your side!”

  Kevin stopped, stunned for a minute by the shadows. Matt and Cynthia were sharing a bed!

  “I mean it. You touch me again and I’ll cut those fingers off.”

  Kevin listened to Matt’s cackle and was dismayed by how much it resembled Rick’s.

  “No, Matt, I don’t.”

  Kevin couldn’t hear Matt’s words and he hugged the thick shadows around the canvas.

  “I’d like you more if you had respect for me and for the dream.”

  “I do,” Matt was protesting. “I just don’t understand why you took me in.”

  Cynthia sighed deeply, and Kevin felt an honest answer coming–something he hadn’t gotten.

  “They would have banished you, Matt. Maybe worse. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “And now you wish you had,” Matt accused, shadow turnin
g to glare at her.

  “No, I made the right choice. In time, you’ll be trusted again and have a real life here.”

  Matt snorted scornfully and Kevin found himself agreeing. As he watched a shadow finger creep onto the other side of the mattress, it was hard not to. Matt was a bad kid and it would only get worse.

  Kevin came from the shadows, boots crunching carelessly.

  The shadow hand drew back and Cynthia sat up, listening.

  Kevin tapped on the flap. “The big boss needs you.”

  “Be right there,” Cynthia called.

  Both males heard the breathless tone.

  Kevin smirked when Matt shifted roughly on the air mattress, nearly flipping Cynthia off it. The boy didn’t like him or Adrian. The feeling was mutual.

  Kevin was still lingering when the reporter stepped out of the tent. He caught Matt’s resentful glare through the open flap.

  Not one to be subtle in the old world, Kevin held his arm out to Cynthia like a gentleman would have.

  Annoyed and sleepy, Cynthia slid her arm into Kevin’s and left Matt staring at them both hatefully. She wasn’t cut out for babysitting unless she got rest and Octo-boy liked to watch the sun come up.

  “Another week,” she muttered, unconsciously leaning into Kevin’s welcoming heat. “Then I’ll tell her.”

  Kevin understood, but didn’t get his hopes up. If he and Cyn were supposed to be a match, Angela and Adrian wouldn’t have tossed Matt into their mix.

  9

  Marc settled Angela onto his bedroll, smoothing her clothes and hair into more comfortable positions. As he laid the long braid across his pillow, the gray glared like a sign.

  There’s more, he realized. A lot more.

  She performs minor miracles daily, the demon stated, tone slightly admiring. Tonight, she brought a man back from the dead. Did you think there wouldn’t be a price?

  Marc’s mouth stayed closed, but in his heart, he knew it was only a matter of time before he began talking with the ghost inside. The demon had information that he needed.

  Angela stirred briefly, arching a bit. “Unbutton me, will ya?”

  Marc eagerly slid both big hands around her waist and up to her bra. He rubbed as the hook sprang free, but she was already asleep.

  Marc covered her up and sat on his side, thinking. In a bit, he would clean his guns and maybe run over for a hot shower. Right now, he had to decide if it was worth the trade to have the demon in his life. He had many doubts about being able to hide it once he made that choice.

  “Marc…”

  Angie’s call was sweet, comforting. The demon faded to allow Marc this moment alone.

  Once in the rear halls, the demon chose the door with the information scrolls. He couldn’t go far, only as much as Marc’s impenetrable cell would allow, but the words had always been in reach.

  Bitter over his imprisonment, the demon had spent decades learning from the inherited data stores. When his chance came, the demon planned to know what to do with it. If he were useful, he wouldn’t be locked up again. Marc was cruel enough to keep him in here forever, but not if there was something to deal with, and the demon went straight to the section on recovery.

  Marc settled down next to Angela’s warm body with a shudder of perfection. Her legs tangled with his, body melting against his hip, and the feeling of rightness increased. Even innocent contact between them created a feeling of seclusion that Marc wanted to drown in. He drifted off thinking of the trip here, when it had been just them against the world.

  Angela, drained and hungry, let the witch out to roam as she felt herself falling into a deeper sleep.

  May I take from where I want?

  Angela agreed sleepily. Just leave Adrian alone for a bit.

  The witch laughed softly and vanished.

  Marc’s arms tightened unconsciously and Angela let the darkness claim her, securely locked in Marc’s dreams.

  The witch didn’t go far, only to the information banks. There was someone she’d never been able to reach until now, not fully. She’d wanted to for decades, but hadn’t been able to get Angela’s permission to roam. That was the only way to open the door between demons. The ancients had needed to be sure that the demons could never betray their hosts.

  As she slid silently into the dimly lit library, Marc’s demon froze, stunned at the sight of her. He’d never viewed his own kind before.

  The witch cackled, gliding toward the far wall. She paused in front of a door that the demon had never been able to open.

  The witch pushed the door gently and it slid a crack, revealing a blue light.

  The demon behind her gasped. And came closer.

  The witch wasn’t ready to go further with her newest access point, at least not alone, and she turned slowly. Orbs glowing deep crimson, she appraised Marc’s magical center ruthlessly.

  The demon felt her evaluation and held still under the promise of adventure he read in the charged atmosphere. The attraction he’d expected if they ever met was there, as well as a raw sense of dangerous power, but the lure of a friendship was what made him agree.

  “I bind myself to you for…” he paused, questioningly.

  “One day. They can manage that long,” the witch filled in.

  “I bind myself to you for one full day,” the demon repeated gruffly. The sound of her voice was pure power–the kind he would never provoke.

  The witch held out a hand, observing him closely, and the demon snatched her up against his chest in a tight, hungry grip. “Let’s go.”

  The witch cackled again, turning a bit to reach the door. They vanished into the unknown with Marc’s demon swelling in happiness.

  His light, as it grew, was bright gold.

  10

  “Home...”

  Kendle rolled over, her sleep restless. She bumped into the sharp, cold corner of the seat and jerked awake.

  They were home.

  Except, it wasn’t, not anymore. Somehow, while she wasn’t looking, Pitcairn had become her home.

  The sound of the engines coming pulled her into alertness and sent a hopeful fear into her heart. People!

  “Luke!” she whispered urgently, a bit surprised that he hadn’t stirred.

  She looked over to find him huddled against their backpacks. Even in the darkness, she could see his skin had a sheen of sweat. He was worse. Shit!

  Kendle pulled the gun from her belt and slowly inched over to the window.

  “Please be good guys. Please be good guys...”

  All she could see was headlights, at least ten of them. Five trucks circled the plane as if they knew she and LJ were in here. Shit!

  Kendle sank down, racing for a solution.

  “Come on out of there.”

  Make a deal!

  Kendle slowly stood up, hoping she had the courage to get them through this alive, longing to see a group of uniformed authority to help her.

  The sky was just beginning to lighten as she climbed down, the wind chilly and the sky ominous.

  The vehicles turned their lights off all at once, throwing her into darkness.

  Kendle stopped at the bottom of the short stairs, gun in hand.

  “Two of us are coming over. Don’t shoot.”

  The fact that the voice was female went a long way in calming Kendle’s fears. “I won’t.”

  Gravel crunched as the vague shadows got closer. Kendle was able to make out hands holding lanterns that hadn’t been lit and guns on hips.

  Kendle stared at the wild women, eyes adjusting enough to show her men’s clothing and weapons, and a hardness she’d never seen in American women before.

  “You fly in?”

  Kendle nodded stupidly, staring as a lantern was lit.

  Carol motioned toward the train. “Guess you’ve figured out what happened.”

  Kendle forced herself to confirm it. “The whole country?”

  Marsha grunted, eyeing the plane. “Yep. We finally did what everyone joked about.”


  “A few times over,” Carol muttered, studying Kendle. “What ya got in the plane that you felt the need to defend?”

  Kendle reacted the way she’d been scarred. Fight or die. “My man. Why? You thinking about taking him?”

  Both women blinked at the hostile tone.

  Carol held the lantern up, studying Kendle and her scars. “Where you from, Hard-ass?”

  Kendle slid the gun into her belt. “Maybe that’s information I don’t care to part with.”

  Marsha glowered. “If we wanted your man, we’d take him.”

  Kendle took a step forward and growled.

  It wasn’t a warning sound or even anger. It was a victim in the corner about to spill blood in an attempt for freedom. The two caravan leaders knew the noise well. They both took a step back. This wasn’t the easy prey they’d hoped for upon seeing a slender shadow through the plane window.

  Kendle took a deep breath, pushing back the need to kill. “You should go now.”

  Carol opened her mouth, maybe to offer a little encouragement.

  “Kendle?”

  Marsha and Carol both took another quick step back.

  “He doesn’t sound good.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  Kendle was torn–clearly they could be trouble–but she had no idea what to do to help Luke.

  “I’m not sure,” she said finally, shoulders slumping. “He was fine when we landed.”

  Marsha and Carol exchanged a glance. In it, they asked if they wanted to take the chance on helping a stranger. In this new world, that wasn’t a good idea.

  “What ya got to trade for medicine?”

  Kendle thought fast. Not the gun, food, or water. “Blankets, a couple packs of batteries, box of candle...”

  “What about the plane?” Carol asked, eyeing the metal. It wasn’t rusting like everything they found now and it would make a good material for increasing the strength of their caravan.

  Kendle slowly nodded. “I’ll get our gear out. No gas in it, though. We coasted in on fumes.”

  Marsha had been thinking about a plane all along. This land was dead. Staying was another bad idea, but those leading their little group had outvoted her. “Stand aside and we’ll check him over.”