by Angela White
Where We Stand
Book Six of the Life After War series
a novel
by
Angela White
Where We Stand
by
Angela White
Angela White © 2013
Interior design by ePubMasters
Smashwords Edition
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Standard Copyright laws apply. Made in the United States.
Happy 2014, World!
There is a wonderful new website based around this series. I built it myself, and hope you’ll join me in bringing Safe Haven to life in another realm. On this new site, you can:
Vote, explore 3-D camp areas, play games, take quizzes, apply to be a beta reader, view unpublished material, help with projects, signup for author Q&As, purchase LAW merchandise, and much more, including free rookie Eagle classes. It’s slightly interactive and will be updated with fresh information each time a book in this series is released.
After you finish this 6th novel, why not stop by and let me know how you feel?
Safe Haven Refugee Camp
Waving at you,
Angie
Safe Haven Route of Travel
One Common Goal
A Hero to lead them
A Witch as a guide
Eagles to defend them
From every side
A Doctor to heal them
A Star to strengthen
Through horrors and hell
All of them have sinned
A secretive father
A fallen idol
A camp of refugees
With skeletons to rival
A group of gifted teens
A clan of closed-off women
An army of Eagles
With one common goal between them
To save their future
To stay, to live
To continue recovering
To push, to give
The Government
Coming to reclaim
From the old world
They’ll deliver the same
Safe Haven will stand–united
Or they will fall
Once again, the bad guys are coming
Determined to end it all
If they can take a Witch
Or a few gifted teenagers
Safe Haven Refugee Camp
Will be in the hands of strangers
Part One
“A period of adjustment is always required during a change in leadership, but not everyone can afford the lost time. That’s when you discover if they’re worth following at all.”
Prologue
The War has begun to change us.
The mental cliffs we’ve been forced to leap–the horrors that we now hold inside–are nothing compared to the physical evolutions. We’re harder, stronger, more determined, and also weaker because we need each other so much more now. It creates vulnerabilities.
We’re angrier, as well. We know the government survived and that we’ll have to fight them to remain free. We’ve faced Slavers and nature, direct attacks from crazed refugees, and personal hatred inside our own borders, but all of that was to prepare us for this moment. We represent what’s left of the great American herd.
And I’m scared.
They are going to come for him–these people will know everything in a few short days–and Adrian will be unprotected except for the Eagles. That won’t be enough to defeat the government. If they get ahold of Adrian, the entire world will finish falling. His powers are so magnetic that he could be used to draw in every gifted person on the planet. With all that light gone, all that hope, our civilization will crumble.
I have to ask something of Brady, something he’ll be tortured by. I need him to share his strength and help me save the man he wants to kill.
Chapter One
Toltec State Park
Scott, AR
6/30/2013
1
Angela closed the notebook and slid it under her mattress. It was actually Adrian’s and the entry was her first. The log of personal thoughts and camp plans had been exhausting to even skim. She was both dreading and anticipating exploring it in depth, though that would take a while. The large stack of notebooks, ten of them, had been inside the tent when she and Marc had come here from the shower.
Angela flushed as she flashed to Brady on top of her, shuddering in pleasure. He’d taken her three more times during the night, like he couldn’t get enough, and for every time he’d exploded, so had she.
Angela felt her body wake at the memory. What a difference! She’d enjoyed him as a teenager and their recent playing had been fun, but this... this was something that would tighten their bonds every time it happened.
“He’s awake.”
Angela winced at the note of tired anger in the mental message. She’d put Charlie on the medical tent last night to monitor things, and she had no doubt that he now knew of Adrian’s desires.
“Thanks.”
“Okay to go? He’s too weak to block and I need a break.”
“Yes. Get some sleep.”
Charlie’s snort was quick. “Yeah, that’ll happen now.”
Angela determinedly took a few more minutes for herself instead of rushing to comfort or cover. Charlie would be upset for a while, but he would realize what everyone else who found out did–she didn’t want Adrian. She had Brady. Nothing could compare to that.
Body lighting up, Angela glanced over at the naked man sleeping next to her. Even relaxed, he put off an air of menace.
And that comforts me, she thought.
Marc rolled over, exposing a bare chest and faint nail marks. Angela blushed, drawn instantly into the memory of putting them there. Straddling Marc had been educational, to say the least. The Witch had healed his mauled wrist and she’d held him while he groaned her name.
“If you keep throwing out that vibe, you’ll start me up.”
Angela flushed darker. “Maybe I meant to...”
“Come here.”
Marc’s husky voice sent a chill down her spine and Angela did as she was told.
Marc felt warm skin settle next to his, a slightly rough leg draping over his thigh, and tugged her closer. Even dreaming, there was no mistaking that smell, and in here, there were no rules he had to follow, no fears that had to be conquered. He was allowed to take what he wanted.
“And what do you want?” that lusty voice inside asked. “What way would you have it?”
Marc slid his hands around and under, moving closer. “Together.”
The demon agreed eagerly. That fit with his plans.
Marc nuzzled her cheek, inhaling deeply. “Mmm. You smell good for a dream.”
Marc’s hand went to her hip, rolling her onto her other side, and he slid tightly up against her. He curled one thick arm under, hand cupping her breast. The other went over her hip and pulled her against him. The feel was enough to bring Marc close to the edge.
He put her leg over his hip and readjusted so that he was pressed tightly against her thighs. When he slid his hand to the slick flesh between her legs, her body arched against him and he pushed inside.
“Mmm...”
“Ohh...”
Marc didn’t waste time. He brought her right to that edge with his finger strokes and held himself on it as he thrust in and out. The fit from this angle was amazing. Pleasure seared him and his balls grew heavy.
His fingers stroked her faster, pressing harder, and she arched in climax, body clamping down.
Marc let go of his control, shoving forward to explode inside her willing body.
Angela’s groans and the nails digging into his wrist were the first signs of reality that registered. Still shoo
ting into her with nerve-tingling jerks, others followed in rapid succession. Tangled hair around his hand, tight body, sore muscles...
Marc hurriedly pulled out, and was unable to stop from covering his ass. He pushed against hers and rode out the rest of the intense pulses. Maybe she wouldn’t notice.
Marc groaned as she pushed back and sent a fresh rush of pleasure through them both. She definitely wouldn’t if he shoved her over the rainbow again.
Marc sent his hands to her sensitive flesh, pushing away the guilt. What were the odds that she’d get pregnant again from the first time? There was no way fate would hit them that way twice in the same lifetime.
2
Duty pulled Brady from Angela’s hot arms just after a pale dawn. No one came to get him, but the alarm in his mind said the camp was stirring.
Marc eased off of the air mattress and pulled the blanket up to Angela’s shoulders as she snuggled into the warm spot he’d left. He stole a minute of staring at her, then pulled on his jacket and boots and quietly zipped up the tent behind him. He hoped everyone would give her a few more hours, but knew it was unlikely when he spotted Kyle and Daryl nearby.
They didn’t speak to him as he went toward the little Mess for coffee, and Marc understood they were her protection while he wouldn’t be with her.
Marc turned to verify it and found both men now standing outside the flap, backs to it and hands on holsters.
He grunted unhappily.
Marc went to John first, avoiding Adrian’s bedside. Deathbed, his mind whispered.
Marc knew that Adrian wasn’t better when John came to meet him. After quick eye-contact with the wounded men, a nod to Anne, and a fast glance at the curtains shielding Adrian, they walked outside.
Adrian’s fever had risen as the infection grew. Around daylight, he’d begun to rant and toss. John had put up a partition to give privacy and then sedated him, sure Adrian wouldn’t want his men to view him that way. Even Adrian’s tattoos were paler, not as striking with him in that cot, and a leader wasn’t supposed to appear an easy target. There was little John could do but hope the antibiotics would smother the infection. The Eagles didn’t like their leader being brought down. John loathed it.
Marc’s heart was heavy as he went toward the main camp. What would they do without Adrian? He realized he’d finally caught what was going around and found only a sad bitterness. Adrian was reason they’d come together. Son of a bitch or not, nothing would be the same if he were taken now.
His radio crackled. “Mitch is waking up.”
“Copy,” Marc answered. He was nearby.
After three full days of drinking at the table, Mitch was looking and smelling rough. Every time he’d tried to get up, he’d been told to keep drinking, that it was his exit party from Safe Haven. Violence hadn’t been required to keep their former radio man at the table–his addiction had done that. Mitch had a monkey on his back that most of them doubted could be unloaded.
Marc slid onto the damp bench as their former radio man opened raised his head.
“Morning,” he called cheerfully.
Mitch flinched from the loud word. “Whass?”
Marc motioned Li Sing forward. “How about something to drink? That always helps, right?”
Mitch stared in baleful confusion. He barely remembered passing out here, but Brady’s friendliness was still bright in his mind.
Marc tilted the cool beer up and let half of it chug down, controlling his stomach.
Mitch again chose the whiskey instead of beer, and the two men spent a quiet moment of silence–one drinking, one thinking. Around them, the camp went about morning rituals, while in the crowded QZ, there was almost no movement.
Marc waited for Mitch to become alert and then glassy, for the bloom of roses to come into his cheeks. When he saw those signs, Marc switched from friend to teacher.
“The bossman wants you gone. On your own.”
Marc didn’t react to the immediate promises and denials. He told only the truth. “Someone else has your job, Mitch, your place. You’re at zero again because of a drinking problem that has endangered Safe Haven more than once. You have no value to Adrian anymore.”
Mitch dropped his eyes, telling Marc he’d already figured that out for himself. Good.
“Matt will stay here.”
Mitch began to cry big drunk tears, the kind that quickly soaked everything under them. “Thank you for giving him another chance!”
Marc blinked. There was a real person inside of Mitch. It was another insight he hadn’t agreed with upon hearing the plan, but Adrian was apparently able to get deeper.
“That’s why he was born–to be a leader,” instinct stated firmly. “It’s also why he’s damned. Few would recognize so deep a secret without actually being there. He’s gone through this himself–all of it.”
Marc shook off the eerie thought that followed: We all have.
He got back to helping Mitch. “Adrian thinks you’ll die out there. It’s why no order ever came down on you. Is that true, Hopkins?”
The whiskey opened Mitch’s mouth. “I survived before. I will now, too.”
“That’s what I told him,” Marc stated.
Mitch stared in sudden suspicion. “You don’t like me. You never have.”
“Like? No. Believe you can reform? That’s different. Matt is a good kid without a man in his life to teach him right from wrong. I’m going to help straighten him out. I suspect you’re raising him like your father did you, and that’s the problem. While I’m helping Matt, I can do the same for you.” Marc sat back. “Or you’ll be gone by sundown.”
Mitch wanted to take the offer, but he was sure it would be hard. The man inside was shouting, wanting to fight over the insulting truths, but the alcohol was calling louder.
Marc took another short drink of his sweaty beer, guts rumbling in protest. “Mmm. I have one or two a week, but I always want more.”
Mitch stared, trying to process what that meant.
Marc sighed regretfully, aware that he had alert attention now. “But I won’t be drunk on duty, not ever.”
He dumped the remaining beer onto the ground near the table.
Mitch got the point, and it clearly wasn’t enough. He flushed, but didn’t answer, didn’t even consider doing the same with his own.
Marc tossed out one of his secrets with a sense of relief. “I used to be a drinker, too–a heavy one. It got me in trouble, cost me things I loved.”
Mitch gaped in surprised. “You’re an alcoholic!”
Brady gave an embarrassed shrug. “Like most of us, I hate that word, Mitch.”
It made Mitch believe. No one else but a fellow addict would know how dirty that word made them feel. “Me, too.”
Marc stood up, stomach rolling over. “Finish that bottle–enjoy it. When it’s gone, either go get a shower and a lot of coffee, or say goodbye to your son and get out of this camp. It’s your choice, but make it today, or I’ll do it for you.”
Marc quickly got out of sight and hearing distance, and allowed himself a minute to vomit. His CO had given him a much harsher lesson than the one Mitch was receiving–making him drink from dawn to dawn for three days straight. By morning three, only the hits had kept him swallowing. As a result, Marc now loathed any type of alcohol on an empty stomach.
This was a worthy reason to do it, though. Angie wanted Mitch to stay and learn to be a father. Marc would try to make it happen.
3
Stepping out into dawn’s cloudy chill, Angela spotted Kyle lingering nearby. He clearly hadn’t gone to bed yet. The mobster looked as bleary as she felt.
“Get some rest soon.”
Kyle didn’t answer and she didn’t push further. He knew his limits better than most men here.
“Got a minute?” Marc asked, coming around the Safe Haven side of the Mess.
Angela slowed, but kept going. “Not really. Walk with me.”
Marc fell in. “What’s the hurry?”
“Adrian’s awake, delivering instructions.”
Marc forced himself to sound as if he liked being in charge of the herd. “I need some things from you.”
“Like what?”
“Don’t know what to tell people about Conner, for starters. All this chaos for one kid is being openly questioned.”
Angela went to Kevin, who was on duty over the first truck. Kevin had become Mitch’s buddy in the com truck and the two men loathed each other. With Kevin working for her now, Mitch would have only a rookie as his buddy again and none of them liked it. Kevin being there to keep him sober had been important.
“I need security put on Matt, and Cynthia in here with me. You’ll need to cover the shifts for each person you move around.”
Kevin’s gaze went straight to the new patch of gray showing from the side of her ponytail.
It’s noticeable. Damn.
Angela gave Kevin a short head shake.
The Eagle understood that she didn’t want anyone to know the effects of using so much magic. Wondering if the sharp man at her side had missed it, Kevin took out the notebook Adrian had given him not long before they’d gone into that cursed city.
He wrote as he spoke. “I’ll have those things taken care of.”
Angela sent him a silent request. “How long? I need it before… I need it soon.”
The Eagle immediately vowed to work diligently on the mental lessons he was going to be a part of when he reached the next level. If they were still together for it. “Fifteen minutes.”
Angela felt Kevin’s silent despair and refused to offer false comfort over their future. “Good.”
She went toward the shower camper next.
“Angie.”
Hearing Marc’s growing angst, she grunted. “Give me some time to get him settled. For now, he’s the only survivor from Little Rock that we were able to bring out with us. The other kids were killed. They can know that much.”
Angela got a chill as Marc wrote down her instructions. Why?
Adrian answered.
“It means he knows that you’re my replacement, that not following, or forgetting, even a single order would be a grave mistake to your relationship.”