by Angela White
The younger and dumber of the two bounty hunters stood up. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“No,” Hudson sneered at Embry’s eagerness. “The Major said not to go without him.”
“But now is the perfect time!” Embry whined. “They’re settling down. We’ll catch them off guard.”
Hudson, so named because of his birth near the infamous waterway, offered one more warning. “The Major has a plan, Embry. I’d be careful about stepping on his toes.”
“I want to go in now,” the younger guard insisted, scratching at his head.
Like all of the Major’s crew, he and Embry were bald under the black bandanas, skin tones burnt to the same shade from the harsh environment they toiled in. They could have been brothers but for the hatred that existed between them.
Hudson gave him a curt glare. “Go on, then. I’ve wanted Lenore for a while. With you dead, I’m next for her.”
Embry’s expression darkened, mouth opening for a brief second before snapping shut.
Hudson laughed at him, but the sound was deep with loathing in place of amusement. “What you’ll do is report to the Major.”
Embry paled. “Me?”
“Yes, you. You’re the one who wants to move in ahead of schedule. Get lost.”
Embry gave a stiff salute, hoping the Major wouldn’t kill him when he suggested attacking now.
Embry turned around, entire body wary. “You really want my woman?”
Hudson’s expression was cold, devoid of empathy. “Yes.”
Embry spun toward the hill, and Hudson went back to observing the green dots on the screen. He was already sure the Major wouldn’t kill Embry unless he got out of line. They needed all the men they could get for this hit.
“We’re ready,” he muttered.
As the world fell apart, Hudson and the rest of the Major’s team had been sent out to collect Adrian Mitchel. And the Major never went back without his man. They would have this bounty wrapped up in the next few days, maybe even hours.
But instead of going to the last bunker holding, Hudson thought Garret would keep the gifted pair for a while. He might hand them over after he’d taken his pound of flesh, if they survived. Hudson wasn’t sure the standing reward would be enough to keep either of them alive. Adrian was at the top of the Major’s most hated list, and rightly so. When the shit went down, Mitchel had struck back twice as hard and taken the Major’s wife. He’d returned her, pregnant, six months later. That kind of hatred was impossible to ease with gold, promotions, and guns. It required blood.
Chapter Twenty
1
“It’s FND.”
Kevin stared in shock, unable to believe the jealousy spiraling through him. He knew who this choice had come from and he even understood why. It was the how that he was choking on.
Sitting at a dim picnic table near the couples’ tents, Cynthia kept her head down. “I was offered a cruel deal,” she stated miserably. “If that matters to you.”
Kevin didn’t think so upon first hearing, but after a few seconds of asking himself what he might have dumped her for, he asked, “What was it?”
Cynthia looked up with shame and defensive determination. “I get to be her XO for the next runs. Among other things.”
Kevin blinked. Yes. He would have ditched her for that chance, too. It was the equivalent of being handed second place on Kyle’s infamous team. It didn’t stop the want or the frustration, but it did lessen the sting.
“She said...” Cynthia slammed her mouth shut. What if Angela was wrong?
Kevin was slowly recovering. He’d only stopped by to confirm that their date was still on before he left to catch up with the clearing crew. “What?”
Cynthia was now sure of a rejection either way and she didn’t answer. Was all the power really worth hurting him this way? Was it enough to quiet that new loneliness that came with dusk each night?
Kevin studied the reporter, seeing she wasn’t happy, but that she planned to follow through. She was an Eagle–a real one, now–and he had no right to stand in the way of that.
Could he wait until she’d served her duty with Matt? Could he stand watching a romance develop? Kevin wasn’t blind to the changes taking place in Safe Haven. Many of the couples that were forming here were lasting pairs. Their sparks, their compatibility, was too rare to miss.
“I’d like to know what she said.”
Cynthia had expected him to tell her off and storm away long before now. It gave her the courage to answer.
“She said you’d wait for me.”
Kevin stared at her teary, hopeful eyes, and was pulled into the drama of camp life against his will. If Angela said it, he could trust that, right? “I might.”
Cynthia smiled in surprise. “Really?”
Kevin caught sight of Matt coming from the showers, his second today, and frowned. “I need guidelines, Cynthia. Soon.”
He left without saying anything else and she watched until he faded into the shadows around the parking area. The rest of the clearing crew was heading out. She would miss him being around and that said it was going to be hard to honor her new duty.
Matt dropped heavily onto the seat next to her, sliding close, and Cynthia sighed unhappily at the frowns of those who saw. She then put on her training face and turned to him with a welcoming smile. “You smell good.”
Matt blushed, pleased, and stared at her in worshipful happiness. He would sleep in Cynthia’s tent tonight, instead of with the livestock.
The teenager’s dreamy gaze went to the vehicles disappearing into the darkness and he dropped his head before anyone could see his other face. On that clear, furious facade was glee that Kevin was leaving and an endless hope that the man wouldn’t return.
2
Late night fell over Arkansas like a cloud, smothering the dim light and replacing it with the unknown. For most of Safe Haven, that wasn’t something to be feared, but for the Eagles, it meant limited visibility and depending on the dogs to do their job. Thanks to the wolf, their three dozen workers were constantly roaming the perimeter, becoming more and more aware with each step.
Did these animals understand they would likely be the first to die? That they were the sacrificial lambs between the light and darkness?
Dog would have said no, their brains didn’t equate fear to rebellion, but Dog was biased and he missed the signs. It was understandable. The grass didn’t whisper when the wolf came by on rounds, nor did the wind have advice to give, showing sympathy to his plight. When the wolf came by, there was silence. And since Dog believed the mutts to be inferior, he didn’t consider that the quiet meant they were hiding anything.
Until Adrian rolled away from Safe Haven.
Dog padded around the metal cleaners, tired but proud for his human. Marc was in charge of the herd. How far they had–
“Join us or die!”
Five of the working dogs, without their red collars, padded out of the shadows to surround him. Their eyes glowed with rage, the kind that always drew blood.
It only took the wolf a second to understand the grave error he’d made, but his reaction didn’t change.
“Traitors! I’ll kill you!” Dog lunged for the throat that had given the ultimatum.
“Point man to the showers!”
“Copy.” Marc was already on his way there as fast as he could go without panicking the camp. Dog’s yelps were awful.
Guards pointed the way, guns in hand.
Now out of sight of the herd, Marc ran through the trees and his shadow followed.
Those guarding that area were trying to keep a tight circle around the snarling, rolling mass that had grown to include over half of their working animals.
“Get off of him!” Marc ordered.
Instead of ignoring or even flinching, their working animals immediately lunged his way.
Marc fired, taking down two of the red-eyed dogs, and three more attacked. Marc was sent back to Nebraska, to killing the wolves.
The Eagles began firing, picking off dogs that slid from the fighting ball and ran at them.
Marc kicked his steel-toed boot through the teeth of their biggest working dog and then shot it in the head.
Grrr!
Marc spun, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the jaws that clamped down on his wrist.
“Uggg!” Marc brought his other hand up and blew a hole through the dog’s throat.
“Betray us!” He slung the gore aside, and stormed into the violently churning pack of enraged animals. He pulled the triggers on both Colts. “This is what you get!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Marc wasn’t taking any prisoners. Two adrenaline-fueled reloads had the dog pile apart, and the few survivors quickly fled, running off with enraged howls.
Dog was curled into a tight, bloody ball that didn’t crawl from under the corpses of those he had managed to kill. The other bodies were spread around the wolf in a beautiful, awful circle of skill.
Marc yanked and kicked them off, digging his way to Dog. The wolf still didn’t move, and Marc quickly picked him up.
The walk to Chris only took a minute, and Marc couldn’t tell if Dog was alive. Blood from both of them dripped steadily down his arm as he walked, and the smell of urine was nearly overwhelming. The other dogs had pissed on him during the fight. What the hell had happened?
Chris jerked as Marc slid into his tent, dropping the dart gun through shaking hands.
“He needs help. Now!”
Chris didn’t bother answering, his knobby, hairy legs flying around boxes.
Marc started to put Dog on the floor and Chris jerked a hand toward the bed. “I’ll get a new one. Make him comfortable if you can.”
“I’m not sure if he’s–”
“Don’t say that!” Chris snapped. He didn’t like the wolf, but he loved animals. “Make yourself useful and get out.”
Chris knelt down by his bed, frowning deeply. “Don’t move, Dog. This will stop the pain, and then I’ll sew you up.”
There was no response from the bloody wolf, but the vet didn’t require one. He was sliding into the zone and words were just a part of the entry ritual.
Marc left, pulled back to protecting the camp. He was starting to get a small idea of why Adrian always looked so stressed out.
3
Marc joined the guards, aware of camp members streaming from tents. He keyed the mike. “A flock or herd of something going by triggered the dogs into a fight. It’s all over. As you were.”
Marc’s leadership style was different than Adrian’s, but still effective. If he had tried to act like the blond, it wouldn’t have worked. There was only one Adrian, and everyone knew it.
“Hold that hand up,” John ordered, appearing at his side.
Marc didn’t argue. He needed both of them for this job.
The Eagles waited for Marc to tell them what to do now that they had a cover story.
“Get rid of the bodies. Make a fire pit, but don’t light it yet. Use some of that dead brush,” Marc told them as John stuck a needle into his arm.
He ran through the possible scenarios, and again, Adrian was quicker, but he had been in charge of the camp for months. Marc’s next words eased any lingering doubt about him being in charge.
“I want balloons and the boric acid we found in Hutchinson.” Marc waved more men to him with his good hand. “Fill the balloons and bring them in crates and buckets to the perimeter. We’ll pop those buckets and crates with shotguns if we have any uninvited guests.”
The image of a poison cloud greeting the surviving dogs was enough to make Eagles fall eagerly into the chore.
“Keep reminding the teams to sweep low and high, and someone check in with the clearing crew. Make sure they’re alert.” Marc handed out the final details with relief. He’d sent a mental call to Angela as soon as it started.
Samantha came to Marc’s side with damp hair. She’d been in the shower and hadn’t heard anything over the water. She also hadn’t sensed it. Her mind had been full of the thoughts she only allowed free when she needed a quick release. That had been interrupted by Peggy bringing in one of the kids who’d soiled herself.
“What can I do?”
Marc thought he had it covered, as much as he could, and forgot to soften his words. “Whatever you were before.”
Stung, Samantha turned for the mess. Maybe I’ll have that drink now.
Marc felt the error, but didn’t call her back. He would stop by her tent on rounds and explain that he hadn’t meant it the way she’d clearly taken it. Right now, if there was nothing else... Marc ran through it all one more time and then let himself go to Chris.
The vet was standing outside the tent, eyeing the cages around him with concern.
Marc saw the glaze of hatred, the promises of blood in beady eyes, and understood the vet was busy accepting that the animals he loved so much loathed him.
“I sewed him up, but…” the vet stopped, turning away.
Marc ducked into the smelly tent and went to his friend. Covered in bandages, it was easier to see the wolf’s big body rise and fall, confirming that he was alive.
Marc’s hand was gentle as he stroked the wolf’s fur. But he wouldn’t be for long. Death hung thick in the air.
Dog whimpered, trying to nudge his fingers, and Marc’s resolve broke.
“I need you to wake up!” Marc begged. “Please!”
Dog stiffened, whimpering again, and Marc dug deeper.
“Just this once,” he whispered. “Please.”
And what will you give?
Marc cringed at the voice he’d locked away before meeting Angie. He had expected it to take longer, to be harder.
“Please help him.”
What would you give in return? that bitter voice insisted.
“What do you want in return?”
I’d be there when you take her, Marcus, the demon, cold and angry, revealed the price with glee. I’d feel her surrender, too!
The wolf’s body went slack under his fingers, and Marc broke further. “Yes.”
Blinding blue light filled the tent, shining through the cracks and shooting through the cloth like it wasn’t there. A cloud of it settled over the wolf and slowly sank in.
“I’m sorry, baby-cakes,” Marc whispered. He already knew his secret would eventually be discovered because of this.
I can help there, the demon stated. I know what she needs, and it is not a boy scout.
Marc had been forced to deny who he really was. Mother had beaten him at first and then insisted that he didn’t have the curse at all. To escape the misery, he’d told the demon to go away and it had. Once locked up, it had been easier to believe the lies than to face the truth and keep fighting his mother. That type of life-long mentality wasn’t going to change overnight.
“No. Thank you, but go away now.”
The demon faded back into his lonely coffin, and Marc allowed himself a single ache of regret, then closed it all off behind that thick wall of denial his childhood had built. He wasn’t like the rest of them. He didn’t hear voices. He had no power. He wasn’t cursed with a gift that marked him as a freak and prevented friendships. The vet had saved Dog, and that, was that.
He determinedly masked his emotions and threw himself into the next step of cleaning up the fight and handling the camp.
4
Samantha wasn’t sure where she should be or what she should be doing. A drink was about the only thing that appealed, other than going back to the shower to finish what she’d started.
The current line there discouraged that option.
The light wind blew Sam’s hair back, revealing her frown, and the man at the center mess table saw it. His gaze was drawn to her, as always, and against his will.
Wanting a few minutes, even if they were spent arguing or in silence, Neil spoke up when she would have disappeared inside the truck. “I’ve got a thermos.”
Th
eir eyes met with a sharp flare of need that made Sam suck in air. It also sent enough lust through her body to break the final chain of morality that had been holding her back. Their petty games didn’t matter anymore. She wanted him, and she was done avoiding it.
Samantha sat down, sending out a thick spark. “Come here often?”
Neil blinked, not expecting it, and refused to let his gaze go anywhere but hers.
Samantha snickered. “Sorry. It seemed like the thing to say.”
Neil felt his body wake at her inviting demeanor. “It is, if you’re trying to pick me up.”
“If I were, would it work?”
She got him again, and Neil chuckled. “That depends on the expectations. I have to know them up front this time.”
Samantha’s body hummed with desire. “If I were picking you up, I’d say you could expect a couple hours of fun. And that’s it.”
Off duty until morning, Neil did a visible check on the settling camp. Marc had it under control. “What about them?”
She shrugged, not caring about that anymore, either. “Let them get their own one night stand.”
Neil leaned closer instead of chuckling. “What if one night isn’t enough for me?”
“Then, I wouldn’t mention that again, or you’ll scare me off.” Her profile darkened. “Take what I can give. I’m not wired for forever.”
Neil sighed. How could he say no? He’d wanted her since that day at the gun class, and it hadn’t changed. “You’re the boss.”
Samantha ran a finger over the scar on her hand, marveling at how far she’d come from the broken, abused woman who’d been sent here on the heels of a witch.
“Good.” The feel of his hot gaze on her body wasn’t nearly enough. “I think we should go my tent, where we can be alone.”
“They’ll see me come.”
Sam’s breath caught at the image.
“You’ll let me?”
Oh, yeah! She nodded with a red face and rocky chest.
Neil couldn’t stop himself from staring as she stood up, mouth going dry.
“Give me an hour. If the lights are out, I’ve changed my mind.”