by Angela White
Kenn caught the top sentence of the page she was on–Lying is not only wrong, it’s absolutely necessary. Without lying, a leader will never be able to control his flock–and quickly looked away. He didn’t remember all of the instructions and lessons he’d read through while Adrian was handling the slavers, but that one, he did. It had made him feel better because that was how he already lived his life. For Angela, it had to be difficult.
“She’s the one remaining Eagle who might hesitate to pull the trigger, to kill.”
Marc’s words had been laced with contempt and Kenn now recognized the remark for what it was. Brady had a conscience that was crying out.
Angela asked herself if it mattered beyond what she’d already considered, and found only silence. She wasn’t sure. The thought of trying to view Marc that way was frightening. Even the images she’d seen felt like a dream. That couldn’t have been her Brady.
“I’m good. Get some rest before your shift.”
Kenn heard the dismissal and left the tent before she changed her mind and tried to get further into his.
Angela listened to the witch cackle, confused and sad. She’d sent them out to kill and they had. She bore the sin of this, not Marc.
Once that sank in, Angela felt under control and tugged her jacket over that unused wrist blade. It had never felt heavier than when she stepped outside and found Marc coming from the shower.
Their eyes locked over the camp.
Marc read the resigned understanding, but didn’t want it. He did need her to keep seeing him as the good guy, though. It was the only advantage he still held over Adrian.
Angela saw the shadow on his face, the wall he didn’t want her to get through either, and slowly accepted it. If that was how he wanted things, the camp would be led to assume that Kenn had handled things.
Marc wasn’t relieved when she didn’t call him on it. She knew something–too much. Nothing had gone right today.
Marc spotted Dale and the vet fawning over Ray, and amended his thought. Something had gone in his favor, though he hadn’t recognized it at the time. Ray was in his debt and that was useful.
The Eagles knew what had happened without Kenn’s quiet words, and they all expected to feel less for Marc–less trust, less respect–but when he joined them on duty, they found only acceptance and a bit of sadness. Another camp idol had proved he was capable of something awful. They would be stronger for it.
Kenn observed the anticlimactic attitude in shock. If that had been him, they would be glad of it, but the coolness would have returned until he did something big again. The difference in how he and Brady were treated by the Eagles was astounding on every level.
Kenn took up his post, mind spinning through the moments he’d had that compared to Marc’s. Why hadn’t he been as accepted as easily?
Angela waited until Kenn was out of sight, and then went to a man she hadn’t spoken with in a while. When she opened her mouth, he beat her to the punch.
“Would you like a recon for survivors?”
Angela stared at Seth. “Yes, I would. Your team only.”
Seth gestured to the shadows waiting nearby. His men needed a mission and he needed time away from Becky’s pain. Upon hearing and observing, Seth had been set to volunteer and suspected that Angela had noticed the silent request.
“Leave in an hour?” he asked, wondering what Becky’s response would be. She didn’t like being away from him, but Seth was able to recognize this as an opportunity. She claimed she was doing fine, but he wasn’t sure he should believe her.
Angela grimaced slightly, and Seth understood.
“Half that and home by daylight.”
Angela left before she could change the order. She wasn’t sure what she would do if any of the snake women actually wanted to take shelter with them, but she’d figure something out. Leaving them in the wilderness to die simply wasn’t in her nature.
But killing now is...
Angela ignored the witch. Threats were to be handled first. Compassion had to come after. And Marc had made the final choice. If the women hadn’t been threats, they would still be alive.
Chapter Three
Do Your Part
1
An hour before evening mess, Angela was sitting with Adrian and Conner. The boy appeared weak, but John was being careful about collecting the blood for Adrian’s surgery. Angela planned to help him tonight, but this long after the initial injury, he would still require surgery first to remove as much of the infection as they could. In only twenty-four hours, it had grown too strong for the witch to handle alone. His wound was riddled with poison.
“It might not work, right?”
Angela glanced up, a bit startled. She’d forgotten for a moment that Conner was like her and Charlie.
“I’m not,” Conner stated matter-of-factly. “But we can go through that later. Tell me why you’re so worried, even though you can bring the dead back.”
“No one can do that. I only heal,” Angela informed him.
Conner didn’t understand the limits, but he’d always wanted to. It was something he’d never been allowed to question or even discuss outside of the Lab.
“Why won’t it be enough?” he repeated.
Angela sighed. “I can heal injuries, like from a wreck or a gunshot, but Adrian’s wound is infected. There’s nothing to heal, only a foreign body to be killed. I don’t have that power.”
Conner fired off another version of the same question when he didn’t understand. “Why doesn’t your magic make him as good as new?”
“It does for the injury, just not what came after. I can’t find and destroy. I can only increase health to help them fight on their own.”
“It’s killing, boy,” Adrian groaned. “Women aren’t supposed to be killers.”
“It’s against their nature?” Conner asked, rebellious tone long gone. His concern that he might lose both parents had taken center stage.
“You don’t have that limit?” Angela guessed, when Adrian didn’t answer. She discarded the next idea as soon as it came. Conner was in no shape to be lending his dad anything except emotional support.
Adrian’s hazy gaze swung to Angela. “Is it ready?”
“Yes. In half an hour, we’ll wheel you to the little mess. You’ll get a tray and come right back here for John to get you prepped.”
His lids shut, and then suddenly popped back open. “Code Raven?”
Angela nodded, not smiling at all. “They’re doing what you want and so am I.”
Adrian tried to say something else, but the darkness pulled him under before he could.
Conner and Angela exchanged concerned glances that might have been followed by hopeful lies meant to bolster flagging spirits in the old world. Now, they accepted that he might die. They would do everything that they could, but in the end, it was up to fate.
Lingering near the flap, Kenn caught her attention as she came outside. “I have a suggestion.”
Angela paused and waved Kevin back when he would have come over with the next list of to-dos.
Kenn kept his voice low. “Call a security meeting and get a list of options.”
Angela was currently running through what to say and how to handle the unique challenges the most common ideas would bring. It pleased her to be ahead of Kenn, but she had Adrian’s notebooks to thank. She might not have thought of it on her own.
Kenn took her silence as a bad sign. “Just a thought.”
“Tell them after the camp’s settled for the night. You decide who I should hear from,” she instructed.
Surprised, Kenn started to add more and held himself in check. Pushing her would get them nowhere. “Okay.”
Angela watched him leave, not exactly suspicious, but wondering if she should be.
Kevin came to her side, mouth opening, and Angela held up a finger. “Wait.”
Face reddening, Kevin stood there realizing he’d been about to interrupt something she was working on. I’m not su
re if I like this job.
2
“Where is he?”
“Rear of his new truck with that laptop–same as the last two days.” Billy pointed toward the parking area, ignoring the dull throb in his leg. He was off the crutches now, but the leg wasn’t fully healed.
Samantha went that way without responding to the accusing note. She’d heard it too many times to be swayed. Jeremy knew about her and Neil, but he was burying it, giving himself space. He didn’t really need her...yet.
Sam waved her shadows away as she neared the new truck. To replace the Jeepster, he’d chosen an old blue Ford with rust spots. It would be boring to destroy.
Jeremy didn’t look up from the keyboard. “I’m fine. You already know that. You’ve done your duty, and I’m busy.”
Samantha didn’t acknowledge the dismissal as she slid onto the tailgate. Instead, she studied him to determine how much damage she’d done, and how much more he could take.
Jeremy ignored her. He wasn’t going to be drawn into it anymore. He didn’t need her.
Samantha picked out subtle changes, like his new haircut and shoes, but the things that concerned her were less obvious–like the way he was drawing away from camp life and his team again, his determination to break the internet code, and the way he’d doubled his times in the workout tent yesterday and this morning. It all said he was having trouble. The wisest thing to do was leave him alone, but the camp and Eagles wouldn’t allow that. The next best thing was to finish what she’d started. It was time to claim him.
Jeremy didn’t stop typing, but he felt the edge of distraction at Samantha’s continued silence. He didn’t want to talk to her, didn’t want to face himself when she finally worked up the courage to ask the only question she would want an answer to. It would scar him and he’d never be the same.
Samantha let the peaceful night wash away some of her tension. She loved being outside, adored nature, and she understood why they were under attack–they deserved that. She just didn’t know what to do about it. Despite all the trouble that sometimes came, Sam liked her life now. If not for the loneliness at the onset of dusk, it would almost be perfect.
“Are you here because I’m safe...boringly dependable?”
She didn’t answer.
Jeremy didn’t repeat the question.
Samantha refused to let the voice of guilt kill her good mood. “Should I go?”
Very distracted, Jeremy paused.
A tense silence fell in place of the keys clicking.
“Do my feelings even matter to you?” he finally asked.
Samantha winced at the mild slap. “Yes.”
“Then how can you do this?”
She didn’t have an answer that he would understand. “It’s complicated.”
Jeremy grunted. “You can’t settle down, but that’s all either of us want. Not so complicated–just hard to accept.”
He snapped the lid closed on the laptop and peered over to find her lids closed and shiny blonde curls blowing in the breeze.
Samantha didn’t sensor her annoyance. “From where I sit, you’re both expecting way too much from someone you’ve only known a few months. You guys may be sure I’m the one who fits your forever dream, but neither of you fit mine that way. Until you do, friends and lovers is all I can give.” She lay on the truck bed. “And frankly, it’s tiresome to keep saying that. Why don’t you just type and I’ll snooze in the breeze? We don’t have to talk.”
Jeremy started to send a stronger blow, but found he didn’t have the heart for it. She was right to want a match that suited her, but did she have to be so cruel about it?
“I have a shift or something,” he stated, unable to look away from her blowing curls. He wanted them tangled and wild, dripping sweat.
“Go on, then,” Sam agreed. “Call my shadows back or Seth won’t let me out again for a week.”
The thought of Samantha being in danger kept him sitting by her. That, and those curls. The kiss had been hot, but the sensation of silken hair against his skin–any of it–was one that could send him into a daze of need.
Sam felt his hot stare, but wasn’t ready to take things much further with him yet. While she had no moral issues with having more than one partner, she didn’t intend to slide into Jeremy’s bed just because he wanted it. She had to need it, too, and right now, the magic of Neil’s touch was still lingering–keeping her demons at bay. When it wore off, she’d find this laptop-toting genius and either break through his wall or end their friendship completely. The odds were 50/50.
Jeremy set the laptop aside, but didn’t leave. He stared at her for a long time, trying to find a solution, when all he wanted at that moment was to be close to her. The thought of her with Neil was a stinging wound, but a few minutes spent in her arms–with no talking–sounded right. Jeremy was ashamed of it.
Samantha slowly rolled onto her side, away from him, and Jeremy scowled at the attempt to draw him closer. The sight of her from this angle was incredible. “That is so unfair!”
Samantha was tired and didn’t waste any more quiet time trying to convince him. She allowed her mind to slow as she shifted her arm under her neck. “I need to be up in an hour.”
A bit uncomfortable, Sam quickly began to fade into a doze.
Jeremy tried to resist the feeling of manly protective pride at having her on his truck bed, vulnerable enough to sleep. It showed that she felt safe here, even when she knew he was upset with her. It also said Neil wasn’t enough or she would have done her duty check and left. Instead, she would sleep here, dream here, and he’d want to be with her even then.
Jeremy also hated himself for that. He didn’t want another competition with Neil. Neither of them could win, only be hurt by it and spread that disorder. He also welcomed it a bit. Even the war hadn’t shaken Jeremy from his guilt over his fiancé’s death. Only Samantha and her cornflower blue eyes had been able to accomplish that.
Sam shifted, clearly uncomfortable on the truck’s hard bed.
Jeremy glowered. “Damn you.”
Samantha adjusted again, this time to sleepily sweep her hair over one shoulder. It bared her neck and cleared the place behind her. If he wanted it.
Jeremy recognized the request and couldn’t refuse. It was where he longed to be and at this moment, an hour was longer than sixty minutes.
Jeremy didn’t climb in carefully to keep from spooking her or even out of respect. He took his time–determined to steal every sensation that he could. He sensed instinctively that sharing sleep with someone like Samantha might be more than just a nap.
“Power rubs off.”
Jeremy heard Angela’s words again, but instead of bringing up the wall that she was teaching them, Jeremy consciously tried to drop his mental defenses. He wanted to go where Samantha did. He wanted to explore her dreams so that he could make them a reality.
Samantha allowed his arm under her neck to provide a sexy cushion. His big body pressed tightly to hers, other hand coming to her hip to pull her closer, and Sam moaned in pleasure. “Nice.”
Jeremy tightened his grip in response. The wind blew her silken curl over his arm and cheek, and the Eagle faced the truth. She hadn’t asked him yet, but there was no point in denying it to himself until she did. It didn’t matter. Samantha could sleep with every man in this camp and he would still want her.
No longer fighting himself, Jeremy’s mind clicked out of the high gear it had been running in since seeing those entwined shadows on the tent wall. Sighing in miserable happiness, he let himself drift and enjoy holding her openly. He and Neil were officially sharing Samantha.
Jeremy’s last thought was to wonder how Neil would take the news. After a night with her, the trooper had likely assumed they were a couple, that her desire for other men was over. This sight would tell him otherwise.
3
“Everyone ready to put on a good show?”
Angela opened the flap without waiting for any of their half-hearted respo
nses.
Kyle followed her in with the wheelchair as Kevin held the flap.
“We’ll get his pants and boots on, you’ll help him stand, and I’ll wrap him up tight. Let’s do it.”
Daryl waited by the flap as they worked. He was firmly on Kyle’s right now, but he still hadn’t managed to make that connection with their team that an XO needed. Everyone still missed Chris, himself included. As a result, Daryl was putting in the extra effort to stay close to his team leader and that meant helping with all the undercover work that the mobster did for the chain of command. It was exhausting.
Angela unhooked Adrian from the IV, and injected a small amount of emerald liquid into his tube. Almost immediately, the deep lines of pain running across his forehead eased a bit. His knuckles were still white from their grip on the sheet, though, and he stayed that way as they put on his pants and boots.
When they lifted him to pull the loose (Kenn’s) jeans over his hips, a small moan of agony escaped his lips, but it was the only sound he made.
They put arms under him, Angela slid the bed over, and then Adrian was on his feet. His face was pale as he steadied himself, clearly not in control. It was scary how different he was.
“Ready?” Angela asked, trying not to care.
Adrian braced himself as best as the drugs would allow, floating in a world of hurtful instinct. “Do it.”
An arm around each man’s shoulders, they leaned out of the way as Angela gently taped two flat, hard pillows to his stomach and hip. A minute later, they put the shirt on him and buttoned it.
Angela placed three green pills into the front pocket of the shirt. “You’ve already had the equivalent of one. Try to save these for when we bring you back and do surgery prep.”
Adrian let Kenn and Kyle help him into the padded wheelchair, but his attention stayed on Angela. “What else do you have for me?”
She held up a capped syringe. “An energy booster. It won’t last but ten minutes, so don’t linger.”
Adrian slowly captured a pill and Angela sat an opened can of Coke in his hand.