Winter Igniting

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Spirit slammed into her. “I was looking for your breeding chart.” She waited for his reaction.

  When it came, it surprised her. He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Oh, that.” He strolled over to one of the paneled walls and grasped a barely visible ring to pull a chart from the ceiling. “Before you lose your mind and kick me in the head, please notice that my name is not on here.”

  It was a freaking breeding chart. She moved closer, reading the names. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  He sighed, standing very close to her. “You’ll notice the guy at the top is the former pastor and not…me.”

  She read the names. Joe Bentley was apparently tier two. What a minute. “Where the heck is Bentley? I haven’t seen him in a while.” In fact, the first night she and Damon joined the Pure for dinner was the last time.

  “Around here somewhere, organizing something,” King said carelessly. He gestured to the chart. “While this is a mite crazy, you have to realize that folks here, some of them, think they’re the only survivors. That they really have to repopulate. The breeding chart prevents incest in the future.”

  Her stomach rolled over.

  King nodded. “Yeah. I’m with you.”

  His name really was not on there. He pivoted and grasped her arms, turning her toward him. “So. Alone at last.”

  “Um, no.” She extricated herself and moved back.

  His smile was rueful. “I’ve been trying to figure out who you look like since the first time I met you, and Jerome nailed it.”

  She blinked. “Who?”

  “Cherry Valance, the bombshell from the Outsiders. The movie they made us watch in high school?” His grin was beyond charming. “All the guys had crushes on her.”

  Her face heated. Nobody had ever called her a bombshell before. “I don’t think I saw that.”

  “Well, stay true, Pony Boy.” King held out an arm. “Let me escort you back to the party. I’d hate for you to miss out.”

  32

  All my life, I’ve been a shield. That isn’t going to change now.

  —Damon Winter, Journal

  Damon woke, his throat on fire. He rolled to the edge of April’s bed and tugged up his jeans before walking into the kitchen area. A pitcher of water sat on the counter, and he drank directly from it. His head ached dully, which was a vast improvement from the day before.

  A quick look outside confirmed that the moon was high in the sky. It was about, what? Midnight? Smoke covered the orb, making it glow an eerie, deep yellow.

  He set the pitcher down and looked around. April was often called to check on the kids, so it wasn’t a surprise to find her gone at midnight. He was much happier waking up with her in his arms, though.

  Sitting at the table, he waited patiently for her.

  A scrape sounded at the door to the interior of the building before it slowly swung open. He turned, seeking her face, and had to drop his gaze a couple of feet. A child stood there, softly illuminated by a lamp in the middle of the outside room.

  He reached for the lantern on the table and twisted the knob, lighting the space. “Lena?”

  The little girl smiled and bounced inside. She wore small pajamas with ducks all over them, and her hair was a wild mess around her shoulders. Within seconds, she’d climbed up to sit on his lap.

  He looked down at her. None of his brothers had kids, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with the little girl. In the soft light, she looked imminently breakable and fragile. “You okay?”

  She nodded, smiling and showing a gap in her front teeth.

  He smiled back. “You lost a tooth.” Did kids still believe in the tooth fairy? They should. He needed to find something to have April leave under Lena’s pillow. Wasn’t there candy in one of the warehouses? It was worth a ton more than cash these days.

  Lena looked around the apartment as if searching for somebody. Then she shrugged.

  This was odd. Where was April? If she were out with the kids, Lena probably wouldn’t be here. Unless April was upstairs with the teenagers again. “Are you looking for April?”

  Lena shook her head, and her hair splayed all over. Frowning, she looked up at the newest bandage on his head that covered his stitches. Then she gingerly reached up and traced the edge of it, her small lips pursed in thought.

  “I’m fine, darlin’,” he said. “Just a bump.”

  Her eyebrow arched, making her look years wiser. Then she patted the other side of his bald head and smiled, running her hand above his ear to the crest of his skull.

  “They had to shave my head. I used to do that anyway. Thought it made me look tough like Shemar Moore,” he whispered.

  She snorted.

  All right. So maybe he didn’t resemble the handsome movie star. But April had seemed to like his head shaved, so he might keep the look if the scar wasn’t too bad over his other ear. Doc Penelope had a light touch, so she’d probably done a good job with the stitches.

  He focused on the little girl. If he hadn’t been in April’s apartment, would she have been able to just head out the door? They needed to get better security in place to protect the kids. Somebody this fragile deserved a bigger shield than they were providing. “You know to stay inside unless April or another grown-up is with you, right?”

  She solemnly nodded.

  Okay. That was good. “Did you hear the explosions earlier?” Maybe those had scared her enough that she couldn’t sleep.

  Another nod.

  “You’re safe now. You know that, right?” There had to be a way to reassure her.

  She sighed, and her eyelids fluttered. The girl was definitely getting tired. That was good. He smiled. “Should you be going back to bed?”

  Her bottom lip stuck out.

  “Or not,” he hastened to say. If she started crying, he’d be lost. She looked adorable with the pouty lip, too. “I’m sure April will be back soon. Do you want to wait for her?”

  Lena just studied him with those dark eyes. Her coloring was interesting. Her hair was so blond it was almost white, and her eyes were a fathomless black. The mystery of where she’d come from and how she’d survived to reach Vanguard was one talked about by the soldiers sometimes. Nobody had a clue.

  Damon looked back at her. “How come you don’t speak?”

  She shrugged, her expression almost bored.

  Obviously, the line of questioning didn’t spook her, so he pressed on. The girl couldn’t remain silent forever. If she were in trouble, she needed to be able to yell for help if possible. “Did you speak before? A long time ago?”

  She nodded. Ah. Finally getting somewhere with her. So she had been able to speak. There wasn’t a physical reason she didn’t speak now, so this was something she needed help with. “You’re safe now, Lena. I hope you know that. You can talk, and nothing bad will happen to you.” He made a note to ask April how anybody knew the girl’s name. Chances were, she’d had it on something with her when she arrived, but now Damon was curious. “Do you want to talk?”

  She didn’t react at all.

  He searched for the right questions to keep her engaged. “Sometimes, it seems like you know things about people, but that’s just a coincidence, right?”

  She tilted her head.

  Maybe she didn’t know the word coincidence. Or perhaps she just didn’t want to share. “Do you know things about people?”

  She twisted her little face up like he was crazy.

  Humor took him, and he chuckled. “All right. I’ll stop asking dumb questions.” It was silly to think that the girl was psychic or anything. She liked to give gifts, and people would always search for meaning in things. Especially these days. “Though it’d be nice if you decided to speak at some point.”

  She looked around, obviously getting tired with the conversation.

  Where the hell was April? Damon searched for something to say. “Are Tina and Rory asleep?” The three were rarely seen without each other.

  Lena nodded.

&n
bsp; “But you’re not. Did you have a bad dream?”

  She cut him another look, this one letting him know he was done asking questions. He sighed. “All right. I don’t know what to ask you anyway.” Interrogating known killers was easier than questioning this little bit of a thing.

  Lena reached into a pocket on her duck jammie shorts and took something out.

  Damon’s breath caught. Present time. What in the world could she have brought him? He instinctively held out his hand.

  She dropped a rusty silver cross with a smooth chain onto his palm.

  He looked down. A cross? “I used to wear one of these all the time.” On a necklace his mom had given him. His was gold, but the designs were similar.

  Lena jerked her head toward his neck.

  Well, all right. He fastened the necklace around his neck, and the cross fell to the center of his chest, just like his old one. It was definitely a man’s necklace. The second it was in place, he felt centered. “Why me?” he asked simply.

  She tapped the cross.

  “Where in the world did you find this?” he murmured. The kids were known to investigate all the old apartments, so it wasn’t a shock that she’d discovered a necklace. But again, why give it to him? Maybe she’d found it and since he was almost living in her building now, had wanted to give him a present. Or was it something more?

  Her eyelids started to droop.

  Ah. “Honey? Why don’t you go back to bed?”

  She swayed toward him and set her head against his chest. She felt so tiny and vulnerable against him. How in the world had she survived on her own before finding Vanguard?

  He stiffened and then relaxed, looking down at her blond head.

  She snuggled closer with a soft sigh and fell right asleep. She was small and delicate, and she was seeking some sort of shelter. For some reason, she’d chosen him.

  He swallowed, careful not to move and jostle her. He’d never had a child fall asleep on him before, and he wasn’t sure what to do.

  Where in the world was April?

  33

  I never realized that a kiss could be devastating before.

  —April Snyder, Journal

  April walked inside to one of the cutest scenes she’d ever seen. Damon was sprawled in a kitchen chair, his head back, while little Lena slept curled into his chest. The lantern was on low, illuminating the entire room. The man looked like a natural holding the sweet girl. April’s body flared alive, and she could swear that her ovaries sprang to life.

  No. Definitely, no.

  He slowly turned his head, and his brows drew down upon seeing her at the outside door.

  She quickly stepped inside and shut the door. She liked his head clean-shaven. He looked like a total badass, which he absolutely was. Even with a child trusting him enough to sleep on him. She reached him and carefully lifted the sleeping girl from his arms. “I’ll take her back to bed,” she whispered.

  Damon stood, looked at the outside door, and then focused back on her. His brown eyes flared. “Where the hell have you been?”

  She reared back from the heat in his terse whisper. “I’ll talk to you in a minute.” She hadn’t thought it was a big deal to go back to the Pure, but she had promised to return when he could be on a radio with her, so…hmmm. They might be about to have their first real fight.

  She walked out of the room and hurried into the younger girls’ room to place Lena back in bed. Then she took a couple of deep breaths and returned to her apartment, taking her time during the walk. If they were going to argue, she didn’t need to hurry for him.

  Her body hummed, and her heart ticked faster.

  He was waiting with arms crossed and a glower across his high cheekbones.

  Her abdomen went all tingly. She swallowed and shut the door behind herself. “I had bible study at the Pure, remember?” Though it had been much more socializing than Psalms.

  Tension flowed from him in a swell of heat, overtaking the atmosphere. “You had what?”

  Well, he’d definitely heard her. So he must be requesting clarification because he didn’t quite believe it. Her weight shifted from one foot to the other. “You were sleeping. I figured it was safe, and I knew we needed to discover the status of these people so you could deal with the gang and that Bunker you want to steal.” Why in the world was she explaining herself to him?

  “You went by yourself with no backup or even a line to the outside world?” He spoke clearly, concisely, and with a hint of heat.

  Now she felt like a deer facing a hungry mountain lion. “Well, yes.”

  “I thought we were clear on the parameters of this.” His voice remained low, but there was no doubt that he’d crossed over from surprised to angry. It was etched in the hard line of his firm jaw and the tight press of his lips.

  If she had anywhere to go, she’d take a step back. Instead, she decided to grow a pair. “There’s no need to be pissed.”

  His longs legs suddenly brought him to her, his gaze dark and angry.

  Shit. She took that step back, but it was too late. Before she could get out another word, he had a hand on her nape and one grasping her hip.

  She couldn’t move.

  Even worse, her hesitation hadn’t sliced to anger. Nope. It had cut into full-blown excitement. Her heart thundered, and she could feel the pulse in her neck ticking wildly. Her throat was dry, but she forced words out. “What are you doing?” Yeah, her voice was way too breathy.

  His hold was absolute, yet it didn’t hurt. The control he kept on himself was just another turn-on. “What do I need to do? You’re obviously not taking me seriously.”

  She was. Oh, definitely. “I didn’t think there’d be a problem.” Yet she’d seen a guy she’d never noticed, and she’d ended up getting caught snooping in King’s office. “I may have acted a bit hastily,” she admitted.

  “Hastily.” Amusement tinged the dark anger coming from him. “You’re off the op, April.”

  The words cut through her haze of arousal. “I’m what? No, I’m not. You can’t do that.”

  “I just did.” His face was implacable. “I’ve tried to reason with you, and I warned you. You’re done.”

  He couldn’t. She smashed her hands against his bare chest. “That’s not your call.”

  “Yes, it is.” Damn it, he was right. Everybody would listen to him, even the Pure church. Probably. And he was point on the op, at least according to the Vanguard-Merc soldiers. “You’re being unreasonable.” She struggled slightly against his hold, not expecting to get free. Worse yet, she hated the reasonable control he exhibited.

  “Too bad. It’s done.” He waited patiently.

  It’d be better if he yelled or lost his temper, because then she could argue with him. But, no. Perfect Damon Winter kept his voice calm, and his movements controlled. “You are being such a dick.”

  The amusement deepened. Did anything shake this guy’s control? “I’m fine if you want a fight, but my mind is already made up.”

  “Fine.” She shoved him. “I choose fight.” What was she saying?

  He released her. “All right. Just how do you plan to fight me?” The amusement melded with an arrogance that he had probably earned.

  How? The idiot was just asking to get kicked. She’d never engaged in a physical altercation in her life, yet everything inside her wanted to shock him. “You’re a moron.”

  He exhaled. “That the best you’ve got?”

  Oh, he did not. Her temper finally flying free, she cocked back her arm and shot her fist into his gut.

  He didn’t even breathe out heavily. “Hmm.” Grabbing her wrist, he flipped her reddening hand over to study her aching knuckles. “Looks like that might’ve hurt.”

  Sparks flew through her. She shook her head, her hair flying. One kick to the balls. Just one to make him drop to the ground and take her seriously. He must’ve read her intent because he shifted his weight just enough to angle to the side.

  “I wouldn’t,” he a
dvised, his voice like molten lava.

  There was no way she’d win a fight with him. Physical or otherwise. “Get out,” she hissed.

  He lifted his chin. “You sure that’s what you want?”

  Damn it. He really would leave if she asked. How could he be so reasonable? “You aren’t in charge of me.”

  “Aren’t I?” He cut fast toward her, lifting her by the waist and putting her butt against the wall.

  Her mouth gaped open. Both of her breasts tightened so hard and fast she stopped breathing. “No?”

  “Really?” He leaned in, his breath hot on her mouth. This close, the rim of his iris looked more amber than the darker brown of the rest of it. “If you want me to leave, tell me again. Right now, and I will.”

  Words would not come. Definitely those words.

  “That’s what I thought.” Then his mouth slammed down on hers. Not soft, but hard and demanding as if he’d finally had enough.

  She made a noise in the back of her throat, opening her mouth for him.

  His tongue darted out and swept inside, knocking her head back against the wall.

  He tasted good. Like whiskey and mint and all Damon.

  She curled her fingers over his hard shoulders, her knees going weak even though he held her against the peeling paint.

  His mouth plundered hers. Completely, and without hesitation. There was no other word for it. Rough and callused, his fingers shoved her dress up her legs and then found her core.

  She gasped and then moaned as he slipped those talented fingers past the edge of her panties and inside her. He fucked her with his fingers like he was kissing her, deep and demanding, not giving her a chance to breathe.

  “Damon,” she gasped against his mouth, panting, the intensity of her need terrifying her.

  He snapped the panties off, and she had a quick thought that she needed those.

  Her hands fumbled with his jeans, and he took over, shoving them down to his feet. He must’ve grabbed a condom from his back pocket first because he ripped the wrapper open with his teeth and rolled it on.