by Angela White
Marc sank down without slinging an equal or greater insult. He could demand that Adrian agree to what he wanted or he could use Angela for leverage. He planned to do both, but neither of those were enough. For all the hell that Adrian had put him through, Marc needed to know that he had the man under such control that escape was impossible.
Adrian knelt down to stir his dinner, smelling gun oil and soap from Marc’s arrival. Two of the best odors in the apocalypse, Adrian judged. Both smells implied organization and the comforts of society.
Marc lit a cigarette and then held out the pack. He met Adrian’s eye as the man took one, locking down on him mentally. “I’m using an old plan. I want you to approve it, improve it if you can.”
Adrian lit the smoke without glancing away. He wasn’t positive that he could. Much as his own had, Marc’s alpha power demanded attention. The man’s gifts were growing.
“Sure.”
“You’ll leave before the mission team.”
Adrian brightened. He’d hoped to be of use for Angela’s plans with the train people. He still didn’t know what those were, but he doubted there would be survivors after what she’d gone through. She wouldn’t have any mercy to give.
“You got it. When?”
“I expect a threatening message very soon. We’ll leave when it comes.” Marc reluctantly released the mental hold that he’d taken over Adrian. “You’re on the protective detail of a witness. Get it set up.”
“A witness?” Adrian repeated, trying to shake off the daze. He’d often tried to do that to Marc, but had never been successful.
“Witness, accused murderer, walking target, the future of mankind. She’s earned all those names.”
“You’re putting me on the detail taking Angela to the enemy?” Adrian demanded incredulously. “Have you flipped?”
“It’s one of the few orders she’s given since it all happened,” Marc replied, setting the chilling coffee down in favor of the canteen that he’d already been working on. “I refused, of course, but she gave arguments that I couldn’t find a better answer for, like she always does. Then fate proves her right.”
“What happened?” Adrian demanded. “Is she okay?”
“There was an attempt while I did rounds on the top floors,” Marc admitted hopelessly. “I almost lost her again.”
Adrian dug into Marc’s mind for the details, glad when the man didn’t try to keep him out. “Son of a bitch!”
“Yeah.” Marc hung his head. “I can’t keep her alive here, not if she isn’t even trying to survive.”
Adrian reconsidered the orders and granted, “We’ll do it your way. What about the train descendants?”
“They still have more fighters and since she eliminated so many refugees, we won’t get any extra help this time. Plus, the Mexican Army is coming. We can’t fight. We have to negotiate.”
Adrian wondered what part of this mad plan wasn’t complete yet and asked, “What happens when they demand her death? They will, you know.”
“We’ll make them a counter offer that they can’t refuse.” Marc passed the canteen after a long drink.
“Like what?” Adrian wanted to know. He tilted the canteen up, swallowing water… That burns! It was alcohol…Wild Turkey!
Marc snickered at Adrian’s gasps and coughs. “Let’s you and I have a little pow-wow, shall we?”
Adrian sucked air through the fire in his throat, tears spilling. “Asshole.”
Marc chortled happily, taking the canteen when Adrian thrust it at him. “Tell me something, you traitorous sack. What do all descendants secretly crave?”
“Power,” Adrian gasped, empty stomach now burning. “Control.”
“So, why come here if they already have both?”
“To check out rivals…or to get more power.”
“What if it’s both?” Marc asked. “Like the refugees, these new people recognize us as the authority over the land. That’ll be proven for me when they ask for a meeting and a trial, instead of attacking.”
Hoping Marc was prepared for the fight if he was wrong, Adrian held out a hand for the canteen. His pride was stinging. If Marc thought he could outdrink him, the man had another thing coming.
“If we give them official control over a specific area, we’ll be recognizing their authority; giving them more power and control. They’ll come meet us to discern if we can be easily taken. When they understand what a long, bloody battle it will be, they’ll deal.”
“So we negotiate our enemies into control of the north and south? We surround ourselves?”
“For now,” Marc consented reluctantly. “It was the best I could come up with once she convinced me of their power and numbers. We don’t have enough Eagles to match the train descendants, let alone for the numbers that Cesar’s fighters will add. They already know better than to come light against us.”
“What did she say the outcome would be?” Adrian asked, certain Marc had insisted on having the witch search.
Marc’s lips tightened into a thin line as the mocking pitch of a female rang out, “That has not been revealed.”
Adrian laughed. “Yeah, figures.”
“She might be handing herself over,” Marc confided in a low mutter. “Suicide by sacrifice.”
That wiped away Adrian’s amusement. “No signs of her coming up?”
Marc snorted, sending an image of Angela trying to keep it together yesterday long enough to tell him what to expect from the out-of-towners. The sobs under her words were audible.
Adrian winced. She was still falling. “Do you suppose she’s lying about not knowing how it turns out?”
“No. I’m just covering all the bases. She’s too tired of death to follow through.”
“But you have a plan, in case?”
“Yes. She’s under watch, even when she believes she’s alone.”
“And you don’t trust anyone else with this crazy plan of yours?”
“She’ll overpower or outthink anyone else,” Marc stated simply. “You’ll make sure she comes back with us–alive.”
“Yes.” Adrian waited for more, bracing.
“She won’t be at the meeting while I negotiate. She’ll be in a secret location. With you. She didn’t approve it.”
“No, I’ll bet she didn’t,” Adrian stated angrily. “But she’s in no condition to argue, right?”
“No, she’s not.”
“What the hell is this? Are you giving her up?”
Marc snorted again, denying the longing in Adrian’s question. “Not on your life. I’m done standing in her way. If she wants to be with you, she can.”
“She didn’t say that–any of it.”
“No.”
Adrian stared at Marc, unable to discern any drunkenness even though they were quickly going through the canteen. “You do realize that she doesn’t want either of us now?”
“She also doesn’t want Charlie, food, news, or leadership!” Marc snapped, finally getting to the open wound that had driven him here to deal with this devil. “Maybe you can bring her back in more ways than the obvious.”
Adrian didn’t know what to say beyond, “Why so soon? It’s only been a few days.”
“She’s gone cold.”
Adrian frowned. It had been a long time since he’d heard that term for a soldier who was methodically getting their affairs in order to prepare for death, usually at their own hand. “You’re positive of that?”
Marc held out the half-empty canteen. “Enough to be sitting in this cold, shitty tunnel, drinking and dealing with a man I want dead.”
Silence fell.
Adrian stirred the pot of stew, still burning from the last drink. Marc had to know this wouldn’t end well. If Adrian did manage to help Angie, it would bring them closer, not her and Marc.
Finally drunk, Marc confessed, “I can’t lose her, too, you know? She’s a cold bitch, but the need for her never goes away.”
Adrian wasn’t encouraged by that revelation. Marc w
as drinking, Angela might be suicidal, and Safe Haven could come under attack at any point after dawn. Fate was throwing hits hard and fast now. However, Adrian was encouraged that Marc had come down here, out of sight, to get drunk and spill his misery to someone he knew wouldn’t blab. What Angela had asked for almost seemed possible at that moment.
Then Adrian caught a flash of the hatred in Marc’s cool eyes and remembered who he was dealing with. Unless Marc was forced to, he wouldn’t ever be able to understand why she had changed so drastically over a short nine months. As soon as Angela showed signs of coming back, Marc would thrust everything onto her shoulders. He didn’t like being top dog in a camp like this. There was no time to enjoy it. He also didn’t want to be XO anymore. Marc hated the constant demands and the soul-eating stress. Adrian understood. He also knew that Marc wanted Angela out of leadership. He had all along, but there was no one available to handle that heavy chore except a banished rival that he could barely tolerate to keep the peace.
“You’ll keep her in charge until Kyle’s ready or you pick someone new?” Adrian guessed.
“Not exactly.”
“Or is it Billy, now that you’ve taken him under your wing?”
“How do you know that?” Marc asked suspiciously.
“He’s sporting a Colt and long, leather coat. Can’t imagine who he’s trying to be.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m training him.”
Adrian waved off the evasion. “He has the walk. He isn’t bluffing.”
“It’ll be a decade,” Marc confirmed, taking the canteen. “Half that, if you and I push him as hard as the job requires.”
“Billy over Kyle?”
“Kyle’s a killer first, and he doesn’t want the job. Never has.”
“But he… Wait. You and I? Am I serving the king now?”
“You do still want to serve, don’t you?” Marc shot back.
“Yes.” Adrian sneered. “Under either of you.”
“I’ll put you on lessons. You’ll teach a private class. My goals and students, with your methods. Do you accept this FND labor?”
Marc using those words stunned Adrian. “Tell me why and then I’ll give you the answer you knew you’d get when you came down here.”
Marc belched loudly. He would do his teeth again before his next round of the herd that should be peacefully sleeping. “I can’t wait a decade. I’m bringing you in so you can take back over and I can give Angie another baby. I figure a year of labor on your part, while Angie gets healing sessions from Kendle and Conner. Twelve months from now, compared to sixty months. It’s good math.” Marc held up a warning hand, timbre dropping into frigid. “If you can be reformed. If not, I’ll give it to Kenn and Tonya.”
“Kenn can’t lead Safe Haven!” Adrian refuted angrily. “Only an alpha can keep these people alive.”
“Then you’d better become Mr. Perfect again real fast,” Marc sneered. “Because I’ve had enough of her pain and my hatred. You have one year to prove that you can be trusted and you can have the job. I know how badly you want it. We all do.”
Adrian was speechless.
Marc understood. He could hardly believe that he was saying these things.
Adrian sensed there was also a lot that Marc wasn’t saying, but it didn’t matter. He would take any opportunity to regain leadership and Marc clearly wasn’t above using that. “I’m grateful.”
“I knew you would be. I counted on it. As of this moment, I officially give you permission to be in camp, with a guard.”
Adrian immediately tested his new place by asking, “What are my limits?”
“Same as any other person being considered for admittance.”
“I meant with Angela.”
Marc’s profile tightened. “Do you really need me to point out the line between right and wrong?”
“You’re hard to read,” Adrian accused defensively.
“Help her,” Marc ordered. “Bring her back to herself. Get her in charge.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Your best has built a future where one didn’t exist,” Marc repeated Angela’s words. “I expect it’ll be good enough now.”
Stunned at the admission, the compliment, Adrian stared in suspicion. “What are you up to?”
Marc didn’t detect any harm in telling Adrian the catch, now that he had his thumb firmly on the slippery man. “Go on and enjoy your year with her, but at the end of that time, leadership is all you get. The fallout will be gone and we’ll leave you on that island to come home. You and your demanding sheep will be thousands of miles away.”
The cruelty in Marc’s tone wasn’t lost on Adrian, but he centered on a huge stopping point. “You’re bluffing. She’ll never agree.”
Marc stood up, sensing Eagles coming their way on his mental grid. “Angie would do anything for a baby, for even a chance at another baby. A year from now, when the herd is safe and she’s fully recuperated, I’ll give her that–on the condition that we don’t stay, so it doesn’t cost us another child. She’ll fold in about ten seconds.”
Adrian gaped. “You can’t do that to her. You wouldn’t!”
Marc chuckled. “You keep on believing that, sweetheart.”
“And if I tell her everything or offer her the same deal, plus she keeps leadership?” Adrian tried to counter, but he knew it was in vain. Marc had all his ducks in a row.
“Oh, you won’t be able to. If you cross a single line, you don’t get control and neither does she. I’ll sway the camp to have you both banished this time. She’d have to leave Charlie here. She’ll never pick you, not when I’m giving her what she wants legally.”
Adrian didn’t argue further. Angela would never cross that line. Marc was right.
“Checkmate.”
“When do you plan to spring this on her?” Adrian demanded, needing the information in order to make new plans and schemes. “Last minute?”
Marc chuckled again, enjoying himself. “I forgot to mention that I already did. She and I came to terms last night. She traded you off again.” Adrian’s pain made Marc very happy. He held out a small map. “You’re the only one who sees this.”
Adrian took it, recognizing the area. He had a hundred theories running through his mind, but the loudest was that Marc wasn’t as pure as they’d all believed. For him to threaten Safe Haven’s future for his own gain was a day that Adrian hadn’t thought would ever arrive.
“It’s not my gain, you idiot!” Marc scolded. “Leading is going to get her killed and I believe you already know that!”
Adrian didn’t respond as Quinn and Jax came through the protected entrance and went to Marc.
“The train people contacted us. They’re demanding Angela be put on trial for murder.”
Marc was relieved that he’d predicted their responses correctly, but he was concerned about the negotiations. Until he saw them, read them, he couldn’t know if his plan would succeed.
Marc kept emotions out of it as he said, “I’ll contact them in an hour. Pass the word to Special Forces. It’s a duty day.”
Marc glanced at Adrian. “I want you gone.”
“In an hour, I’ll be out of this sewer and flying west,” Adrian promised.
“Don’t miss anything. This would be a bad time for us to be ambushed.”
Adrian watched Marc and the two men leave without revealing his joy or his horror. Marc had him trapped for the moment, but he was about to be in the camp’s good graces again. He was also going to have to walk a line that he hadn’t been capable of when there wasn’t as much at stake. The next twelve months would be nothing short of impossible, but he was going to try anyway. The only thing he wanted more than a life with Angela was to be in control of Safe Haven again and Marc had used that to make a horrid deal. Adrian wondered if Marc knew Angela would end up hating him for it. A woman’s heart was nothing to abuse this way. Forcing a female to choose between two things she loved was always a bad idea and Adrian was shocked that Marc had ta
ken the risk.
So was Marc. He waved off his escorts and went to the shower again to hopefully sober up. He’d had to be drunk to do this. With Angie, there had been enough pity to control himself and follow his plan. With Adrian, there was loathing and he’d needed the alcohol to hide some of it. If Adrian knew what Marc really had planned for the end of that year, he would grab his son and flee. That was the only way either of them would survive.
2
“He said what?”
“He’ll call in an hour. He’s busy right now.”
The powerful descendant enjoying the softly chugging luxury train stared in shock at the disrespect. Around them, plush red velvet décor offset the apocalyptic landscape chugging by in the frosted windows.
“He’s busy!” Sonja’s rage flooded the long car, waking the other occupants.
Blankets flew off as hands rose eagerly to defend her.
Sonja waved them off impatiently. “Not yet.”
Her two ruthless defenders dropped back down with grumbles about her not controlling her emotions, but they understood. Her twin sister, Tara, had been killed by these Safe Haven people. Sonja wanted revenge. It’s what any of them would want, but this trek south also hadn’t been fun, despite the nice ride. The plush couches had been comfortable beds for the trip here and the mini kitchen had allowed them to remain hidden and better protected, but they hadn’t forgotten that they were at war. The isolated bathroom down the hallway was the single vulnerability on this car. It was second in the convoy. Sonja wasn’t foolish enough to take the lead engine, though the first class and employee cabins were even nicer. She had many enemies. The odds of an ambush upon arrival were high.
Sonja glowered toward the radio that Ross had rigged up, willing it to come to life, to give her what she wanted.
“It did sound like we caught them by surprise,” Bryson tried to appease. If Sonja started breathing fire, the entire encampment would be up. Her pull was incredible. It had earned her leadership and more enemies than Bryson had known one person to have. The assassination attempts hadn’t stopped for six months.