by Angela White
Again, he was forced into accepting that Adrian hadn’t been lying when he said his herd needed him, that it wasn’t all a power trip. These men were the same. He’d brought them together and only he could lead them into battle. It was a fight that each of them longed for, and there was likely little they wouldn’t do to keep him happy and here.
“No worries, my friends,” Marc murmured, moving toward his tent. “I’m in it for the long haul.”
After only weeks, he was a convert. How could Adrian have even thought of giving this up, let alone actually done it? Marc’s respect for the man went up and so did his dislike. It was something he already wasn’t sure how he would do when the time came.
10
Marc found Jax and Kendle sitting on the bank of the nearly dry creek, talking in low tones. He joined them without saying anything. Paul followed a minute later. It was as if Kendle had been with them all along as they sat there, listening to her tell Jax of the battle for the island she’d washed up on.
“Was Luke your man?” Jax asked as she finished with their flight to get home.
“Yes,” Kendle admitted. “Before I was…hurt, he made me his and I wanted that. Now, I doubt I’ll have another true mate.”
Marc held his tongue and stopped Jax when he would have pushed. Healing took time.
“How long have you been…” Paul trailed off as Kendle grimaced in pain.
She took a steadying breath. “After I was taken by Ethan Kraft. He had the rage sickness and he was...obsessed. It broke something inside me.”
The cell door, Marc thought. He said, “Have you explored it, more than what I’ve already noted?”
Kendle’s voice dropped into shame. “I can do a lot.”
Marc carefully put an arm around her shoulders, still feeding the story that she was his woman. “Will you show me some of the things you can do?”
Kendle sighed. “You won’t send me away?”
“Not even if it gets out of control and hurts someone,” Marc promised. “I need to determine our strengths so that I know where you should be for the bigger fights.”
Those words had her mouth opening to spill gifts that Marc thought even Samantha might be jealous of. When he asked her to demonstrate, she did it slowly and stunned them all.
“She controls nature!”
Kendle pushed harder and the small torrents of water reached the edge of the creek bank to lap the stones. She let go with a grunt, leaning against Marc’s arm. It was exhausting.
“Are you still furious?”
“Yes, but not out of control,” Kendle offered.
“Good. You’ll use it to help yourself?”
“Yes.”
Realizing he’d given her a way to remain with them longer, Kendle gave him a quick hug and got to her feet. “I need some energy. I’ll be back.”
Marc thought of his own weariness, but didn’t take care of it yet. No matter how he tried to look at it, it felt like stealing. He needed it offered or he couldn’t accept it. The problem was, none of these men knew it and he wasn’t allowed to tell them, because then it would be asking. It was a puzzle he hadn’t figured out yet.
“I didn’t know women could be like us,” Red Stone stated from behind Marc and his rookies. “I’ve only known males.”
Marc’s response was instant. “Wait until you get a load of Safe Haven’s females. They’re all special.”
Red Stone’s face lit up with a need that Marc was surprised by. Didn’t the man have a wife? ...wives?
“I do not have one who is like me,” Red Stone stated, reading his mind. “That is what we all wish for.”
Marc didn’t argue. He’d found his other half. He could only wish the same on Red Stone.
“Will she last?” Natoli questioned.
Marc looked to where Kendle was now joining the workout of the Choctaw warriors. “Yes. She’ll be alive when the soldiers are dead and gone.”
Natoli didn’t express his doubt. He’d experience the rage sickness, but never someone who could battle it and not spread the contagion. Kendle had marked several of their men with her nails during her lessons, and none of them was ill. In fact, two of those men now claimed that they’d been tested by the woman and given some of her magic. Natoli didn’t tell Marc of the stories going around. It was a worry for another night.
“And tonight’s concern?” Marc asked quietly. “The fighting, the assassins? The lack of sanitization?”
Natoli allowed a small stretch of his lips. “All.”
Marc grunted. “I’ll have plans for you by morning. Keep it cool and calm until then.”
Natoli left satisfied that Marc had been given (or had gone out and discovered) the information he needed to have. Nothing was large yet, but if they let it go, fights and disease could wipe them out long before the soldiers did.
“A show from you would go a long way,” Paul suggested quietly, aware of how attention was staying focused on them. “They’re waiting to see if you’ll be as open as she just was.”
Marc consulted the demon inside. What trick can I perform? What would be most effective?
These are no tricks, the demon scolded. All your lives depend upon this. Play the role by believing in it.
Marc stored the reprimand and repeated the question.
The demon paused, and then stated, Call your guides.
Marc slowly opened the door in his mind, still poised to react like a Marine even mentally. He braced to handle about anything.
“Ooohhhhh!”
The wolf call sent chills into grown men and brought others to their feet. All of them searched the darkness.
Marc concentrated harder, drawing what little energy he had left to toss through the cracked portal. Blinding light flashed in his mind and he sank to his knees in surrender. Whatever he’d called would have to be enough. He had nothing left to give.
“Oohhh!”
Thaddeus and Red Stone began calming the restless fighters, sensing what was coming.
Marc lifted his head to find them all still and waiting. “No shooting. Let…them through.”
Radiomen and signalers relayed the order as Marc let Paul help him to his feet.
“I am the Ghost,” he muttered in weary determination. “These are my brothers in shadows.”
The first wolf to pad into the firelight appeared so much like Dog that Marc thought it was him at first. It allowed him to extend a hand in trust without considering anything else first. The result was that he looked fearless as he caressed the soft fur of a wild wolf.
The next two animals to join their firelight were enormous, with snarling lips and black fur that stood on end. They demanded to know why they’d been called.
“So no one kills you instead of our enemy,” Marc told them. “We are two sides of the same army.”
The wolf that appeared like Dog, but felt different, nudged Marc’s hand so he would resume the rub. “Nature is no longer our enemy. It is theirs!”
The tides were turning against the government, the pieces falling into place for Marc, and his men stared with a devotion that Adrian would have recognized. It was how the Eagles viewed him.
11
Marc paced his tent restlessly. The energy he’d taken was pulsing, lighting up doors, and causing discontent. It wasn’t enough. He craved more and it was a slap in the face to remember the times he’d given energy to Angela, only to discover firsthand how unsatisfied she’d felt afterwards. It wouldn’t let sleep come.
After an hour, he returned to their fire, where half a dozen warriors remained. Around them, other firelights flickered comfortingly.
Marc didn’t talk.
The Choctaw warriors left him to his thoughts. They were honored to be the chosen tribe, to be so close to their savior. Marc and his odd ones didn’t understand the fierce pride it gave these men. On the reservations, only a few dominant clans that agreed to the laws for everyone, but even those had held little power. The Choctaw had been low in the pecking order, bu
t that had changed. There wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do for Marc, to repay him the return of their honor. Their women and children were safe right now. As the chosen tribe, their people were being cared for.
The temperature dropped as they sat around the fire. Fog drifted through the edges of the trees and weeds, creating a thin barrier that slowly obscured the forest around them. It muted sounds and isolated their camp, making it feel as though these seven men were alone with only the fog, the fire and the ghosts.
Just before dawn, the fog thickened, moving though their camps in thick banks of eerie infiltration. Marc was still at the fire with a blanket that Red Stone had draped over him and the mug of now icy coffee still in hand. He hadn’t noticed either action as he delved further into the doors.
Marc was dream walking. Unlike Angela, who feared being able to control her demon when it was away from her, Marc went along for the ride. He chose where they went, who they had contact with…it was a lesson that he’d never imagined possible.
Paul and Jax were woken by Kendle.
Her hard ankle kicks quickly brought them to their feet, where both men took in the fog and her concerned expression with alarm. Something was happening.
They followed her through the damp shadows to the center fire.
Dozens of men tensed, drawing weapons.
“Stand down!” Kendle snapped.
Men did so sheepishly. Spiritually connected or not, the feeling of something coming was thicker than even the fog.
As if waiting for Paul and Jax, Marc began to speak, “They’ve reached the line we set. Fifty men are camped there. Thirty minutes behind them, the main force is now rising. They will arrive as we battle the first and sweep us away like wind.”
Marc slowly pulled out of the trance, tone grim. “We have to take out that first force before they can get one call through.” He stood up. “Wake those you need and get started working on it. That first force will get here fast.”
Paul and Jax stayed with Marc, but Kendle vanished into the fog, mind spinning. There wasn’t enough time or men to dig a pit, and a gas attack would still give them a chance to call for help…
Kendle went toward the edge of their wide perimeter, ignoring the tension of the lookouts and the fighters.
Atolius followed the odd woman silently, nodding to those she passed, those who were also protecting her when she traveled their camp areas. As the Ghost’s woman, she would be cared for if anything happened to him. Since it was clear that she didn’t need caring for now, other than protection from possible assassins, Atolius wasn’t sure why he was with her. Kendle was also odd, like Marc, and that meant her words were as important. She might even be followed if anything happened to Marc, but Atolius wasn’t searching for a bond with a future leader, either. He just felt like he needed to be close.
Kendle didn’t care one way or the other, though she was getting their thoughts easily enough. She was in this for blood and Marc had just asked for a plan to spill a lot of it. She not only wanted to give it to him, she wanted to be in the thick of it.
Kendle waited by the perimeter as the fog slowly began to dissipate. The first area to clear was the small, cool creek that ran the length of their perimeter. It also crossed under 40. If they took out that section of road, the soldiers would be forced to walk across the barely moving creek, where they would be vulnerable from assassins in the tall weeds on either side.
“And I know what we can do, don’t I?” Kendle muttered.
Atolius didn’t doubt it any more than their protection did. The hum of raw power was still vibrating through their minds. He carefully took her arm and headed for Marc.
12
It was taking too long.
They’d already spent two long hours trying to bring the bridge down in a way that made it look natural. They couldn’t use dynamite or anything else that would echo to the enemy. They were forced to use coordinated vehicle and manual labor that caused injuries and made Marc drain himself to heal them. The advantage was in the sounds that this method did create. Collapsing concrete support beams breaking into chunks sounded like normal noises in this new world. Everything was falling apart.
The bridge itself hadn’t come down yet, but there were only two thick beams holding it in place. Gaping cracks and fissures ran through these supports, and the bridge itself from their efforts, telling Marc it wouldn’t take much more.
Marc waved at the team to proceed.
Everyone grunted or groaned, straining on the thick coils of rope. Marc had refused to use their vehicles for this part of it, not about to bury men alive, but he was almost sure it would still leave the ropes to be found.
Crackkk!
The bridge swayed dangerously as the men pulled harder, encouraged by new splits in the beams.
“That’s it! Snap the ropes!” Marc ordered, yanking.
The ropes began untwisting themselves, but not in time. The bridge shattered down the side and collapsed onto the thick beams, bringing it all down in chunks. The ropes were lost.
Dust coated the area and coughing began.
“Covers up!” Marc shouted from under his own wet bandana. “Glasses on!”
13
“Is it set?”
“Yes.”
Marc went to where Kendle was waiting at the edge of their camp. Her growing attachment was a concern for Paul and Jax, but they didn’t understand.
Will Angela? the demon questioned.
Marc wasn’t sure. Considering the link between her and Adrian, maybe she would be glad.
Kendle could feel Marc’s unhappiness, but didn’t know what to do for him. He wasn’t like Luke, wasn’t hot for her. Careful conversations were the best she could do most nights. She’d never met anyone as closed-off as Marc.
“I’m sorry for that,” he stated.
Kendle slid her arm around his waist. “It’s okay. That’s not what we were brought together for.”
Marc wasn’t sure about that and didn’t say anything. He also didn’t pull away from her comfortable embrace. He needed these men to think she was his woman, but more, he needed the human touch. Most of the men riding with him only made contact in a moment of quick courage, like they were brushing the skin of a revered elder. Some days, it sent his ego through the clouds. Other days, it made his stomach boil. Those were the days that he was forced to accept the truth. Adrian’s job was also awful and lonely. It was harder to resent the blond man for desiring the same thing that he was.
“You could call her.”
Marc was used to Kendle’s intuition, but not her compassion. That was an emotion she didn’t display much of.
“No.”
“Why not? The soldiers know where she is, and where you are.”
Marc sighed, telling her the same line he’d used on Jax yesterday. “She’s already a target. If people hear how much I…need her, she’ll never be able to sleep alone or even take a shower in private. I won’t do that to her. She values privacy.”
Kendle thought he was lying, but didn’t call him on it.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” he distracted.
Kendle grimaced. “Wish it was now.”
Marc agreed, only for different reasons. “One more day here.”
Kendle didn’t care about the location, only the goals and the people. “Then tomorrow needs to be bloody. I can’t be stuck inside a base with all these men and not kill anything.”
Marc chuckled, thinking she and Angela would probably have made great friends and teammates if not for him.
“Come on. Let’s get some coffee and go over the layout.”
Kendle went willingly, trying not to feel abandoned when he let go of her. Marc was a fixed point that she kept in her sights as often as she could.
Marc spent the next hour boring her with details instead of giving her the workout she needed. He was on the edge himself and wasn’t sure of his own control. Kendle liked to draw blood and after being careful, he would need a release that wasn�
��t available until they sprang the trap. Marc wasn’t about to blow early. They’d spent three days planning this last attack. He expected to lose route 40 over the next few days, maybe even tomorrow, but the massive attack come lunch would hopefully slow the troops. Marc needed time to blow bridges and overpasses as they retreated. Little Rock base was where most of the rebels would go next, though some would return to their own camps to protect their people. More would go to Safe Haven to help defend them and get Marc’s other plans rolling. For a few of those, Angela would need all the time he could give her to get them ready.
“Call coming in.”
Marc detoured to their communications bike, to their control man.
“Ghost camp, Alpha. Come in, Alpha.”
“We hear you.”
“Five by nine, out of eight and six.”
The radioman gawked at Marc in confusion as he flipped the dial to channel 43 instead of explaining. “You got me.”
“Got a numbers update for you and some good news,” Quinn’s happy voice bounced off the barren landscape.
Marc clicked the mic and Quinn knew to go ahead.
“We are now eight times what you left behind. I repeat, we are by eight!”
“That’s the good news, right?” Marc joked.
“Actually, no. The good news came from a rider delivering hardware. Safe Haven has company–the good kind.”
Marc felt his worry ease a bit. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Boss. Instructions or messages?”
There was a hopeful pause on that last part…Marc sensed Angela had told them to find out if he had anything for her.
“No.”
“Copy. Out.”
Marc gave Atolius a nod of respect–it had been his idea–then moved toward his tent. When he held out a hand to Kendle, men approved. They liked Marc and Kendle together. It was a good match to those who were viewing it from the outside.