by Tara Quan
Something crashed and broke against the door. His statement was macabre, but he hadn’t exaggerated. The FMA was partial to televised executions via lethal injection.
“Loyalty has its place, Red, but aren’t you taking it to idiotic proportions? That sadistic cult sent you into a building full of countless undead. The people you’re protecting once beat you to a bloody pulp for saving the lives of two innocent women. You don’t owe them shit.”
He almost fell back when she yanked the door open. He steadied himself by pushing down on the floor before launching to his feet.
When he turned and saw her expression, he frowned. He had expected to see anger, not an unnerving combination of fear and joy.
“What two women?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
He had never told her she talked in her sleep. Connecting her fevered ramblings to the names of the two refugees was little more than a guess. But her reaction confirmed his suspicion.
Sensing how much this meant to her, he cupped her face before replying in a lowered voice. “Angela and Michelle. They showed up at the city around the time we met. You helped them escape. Isn’t that why you had been beaten half to death before being sent on a suicide mission?”
Her hands fisted over the collar of his T-shirt. Her deep green gaze never left his eyes. “Are you telling me Angie’s alive?”
He nodded. “Why would you think otherwise?”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. She blinked them back just before they fell. “Angie had been bitten by a brain-eater. Michelle was in pretty bad shape. Grandmother—I was told they died.”
Marcus closed his hands over hers. “You must know by now not everything the WITCH says is true.”
She unclasped her fingers and tried to step back. He didn’t relinquish his hold. After a moment’s pause, she admitted, “Believing her was ingrained. I’ve never questioned her word. I probably should have.”
Her arms twisted in an attempt to free herself. He decided to let her win this battle and released her. “You betrayed the WITCH once. Why won’t you now?”
Her expression was quizzical. “Angie’s my sister. I would risk anything to save her. I don’t even know why you’re here. I have no reason to help you.”
“How about self-preservation?” he suggested. “It’s time to switch sides. Unless you do, there are people who’ll demand your freedom and even your life.” He would never allow it, but she didn’t need to know she had alternatives just yet.
She glared daggers at him. “That’s your argument? Either I help you or you’ll lock me up?”
“Not me. Other people.” He had to admit the distinction didn’t improve his position by much.
“I’ve told you this once before.” Her tone was measured. “Stay out of this fight. It’s none of your concern.” She enunciated each word.
“I know they’re holding something over you. I know you value it more than your life. Here’s a news flash. There is nothing in this world more important to me than you. I don’t care what your reasons are—you need to do what’s in your best interest.”
She shoved at his chest. It didn’t even hurt. It was a good indication she wasn’t as angry as she appeared to be. A well-aimed kick would have had more impact considering their difference in size. Someone with her martial training would know that. Red wasn’t pissed off; she was scared.
He captured both her wrists and held her in place. Staring people down was something he did for a living. She was a tough nut to crack, but he had an advantage. While she would never admit it, she wanted his help. “Give yourself a break. Stop fighting. Just say thank you.”
“That’ll happen in your dreams.” It was apparently a poor choice of words. Her face turned bright red. Now she looked angry enough to spit at him.
Realizing his misstep, he tried a different approach. He captured her waist with both hands and pulled her against him. He could feel the fine tremors racking her body. His voice was low and soothing when he said, “Tell me what you’re so afraid of.”
She schooled her face into a stoic mask. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
He wasn’t fooled. “You’re scared to death, and it’s killing me. Let me help you.”
Her lower lip trembled. “Why can’t you people leave us alone? You killed Mother Gothel, and now you want to tear the WITCH down. What did we ever do to deserve that?”
He frowned. She seemed genuinely perplexed. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“I wouldn’t be asking you if I did. I have no idea why you’re here. The city has never concerned itself with the wastelands until now.” Her nose scrunched up as she said “city.”
He didn’t even attempt to defend past mistakes. There wasn’t a leg to stand on. “Your cult took what’s ours. We want them back. It’s as simple as that.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s preposterous. Most members don’t even know the city exists. None of us have been there.”
He snorted. “Please don’t tell me you buy that load of bull. The WITCH has been kidnapping girls from the capital for two decades. They’ve taken one every year. It’s a miracle it has taken us this long to find out.”
Her ensuing laughter was tinged with hysteria. “That’s not even logistically possible.”
The response took him by surprise. All signs indicated she was connected to the highest levels of the organization. Denial only went so far. She must have suspected something. “Your sister spins a different tale. Given the circumstances, she has much more credibility than you.”
She shook her head hard enough he was afraid she might hurt herself. “Angie would never say something so ridiculous.”
“She did exactly that, and her little friend confirmed the story. Tell me—what’s your theory on how a cult full of women continues to grow while the human population plummets? You’ve seen more of the woods than I have. Do you see any little girls roaming the wilds?”
She rolled her eyes. “I know they came from the city, you idiot. But there was no kidnapping. How could we have infiltrated the capital without detection? Where would we find the fuel to drive there and back? For as long as I can remember, a black vehicle arrives at the edge of our borders every year, and a new recruit walks out. You sent them to us.”
Her statement felt like a blow—more so because it held the potential to be true. He had been so focused on extricating Red from the WITCH he hadn’t stopped to think. If he did, he would have seen a huge gaping hole in the official narrative. It wasn’t possible for someone on the outside to enter the city, kidnap the children, and leave without detection. Especially not for twenty years. The cult was a scapegoat, and someone very high up in the FMA’s governing hierarchy was blaming the WITCH to cover their tracks.
“You know what I said makes sense. The girls came to us. All we did was take them in.” Judging from her hopeful tone, Red must have known her words had found their mark. She had a knack for reading his expression. It was an aggravating skill because he was inscrutable to most others. “Please, if you’d just go back and explain—”
“Explaining won’t change jack. Scapegoat or not, there are countless families waiting to get their children home, and I doubt your leader is open to discussing terms. I’m here to take those girls. Someone else will have to figure out who took them in the first place.”
“But—”
Marcus’ lips firmed into a grim line. The operation had too much momentum. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t reverse its course. Considering what he knew about the cult—what he was certain they did to Red—there was no reason for him to do much of anything. “Look, I’m going over into the tunnel tonight with or without your help. Less people will get hurt if you cooperate. It’s really that simple.”
Her hands clenched over his T-shirt. The terror on her face was hard to miss. He didn’t know exactly how he did it, but he had found a chink in her armor. “You can’t. I won’t let you. You’ll die, Marcus. The passage is lined with traps. Unless you have a guide, you
’ll be buried underground.”
When he realized what her weakness was, he felt an unparalleled rush. He grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger and trailed his other hand down the side of her neck. He felt her tremble. Grinning, he pushed her further. “I can do this your way. I’ll go in blind. It’ll be more fun.”
Her expression shifted from fear to anger. But beneath both emotions was an undercurrent of defeat. Her eyes swam as she murmured, “I hate you. Get blown to bits. See if I care.”
A tear fell down her cheek. He brushed it away with the pad of his thumb. He hated to see her cry even when it confirmed his victory. “But you do care. That’s why you’re going to tell me everything I need to know.”
Chapter 10
Scarlet saw red. She clenched one hand into a fist and launched it at Marcus’ smug face. He caught her wrist a moment before impact. Muttering a string of curses, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the ground. She kicked his shin. He grunted and threw her over his shoulder before marching toward the bed. She continued to pummel his back until he tossed her on the mattress.
Without pause, she aimed her knee directly between his legs. His hand clamped down on her thigh just before she hit her target. “Damn it. That’s a low blow even for you.”
“Low blow?” She directed a right hook at his chin. He dodged it and imprisoned her fist with his free hand. Furious, she accused, “You’re threatening me with your own safety to get me to cooperate. You don’t get to lecture me about scruples.”
He pushed her onto the bed. When she tried to get back up, he grabbed both her forearms. “I’m not trying to become a candidate for sainthood. I’m doing what’s best for you.”
She bent her knees in an attempt to shove him off. Her feet landed on his thighs. He grunted before launching his body over hers. Before she had time to react, he manacled her wrists on either side of her head. Once he straddled her thighs, moving became impossible.
A torrent of expletives raced through her mind. When she opened her mouth to hurl them at her captor, Marcus’ lips closed over hers.
And with that one simple move, he robbed her of all ability to think. His tongue probed for entry. His arms were an immovable cage. Despite her anger, she couldn’t bring herself to wrench away. His musky scent surrounded her. His touch scorched her skin. Hot tendrils of anger morphed into a burning rope of desire that took her over.
Her body seemed to have a mind of its own. Her head tilted. Her lips parted. She tangled her tongue with his and tasted a mixture of herbs and smoke. He shifted and used his knee to part her thighs. She should have taken advantage of the sudden freedom to escape his hold. Instead, her hips lifted in invitation.
She wanted him too much. When he released her hands, she fisted them over his T-shirt and tried to pull him closer. He didn’t budge.
His entire body remained a statue while his lips taunted and teased. He bit down on her lower lip and sucked it into his mouth. His teeth clamped down just hard enough to sting. When he released it, she mirrored the act. Her body had already accepted the dance.
Unshed tears burned her lids when the kiss ended. Her mind was a garbled mess. Frustrated and disoriented, she let her head fall back against the mattress. “I can’t think.”
“Stop fighting what’s between us,” Marcus murmured as his lips brushed her temple. He trailed his mouth down to nip her earlobe. Moving one hand to cradle the back of her head, he tipped it back. Then he drew a hot wet path down the arch of her neck.
She moaned as his teeth grazed the tender spot just above her collarbone. He bit, and then sucked hard enough she feared he would leave a mark. Feeling as if a ravine had opened up beneath her feet, she fought to regain control. “There’s nothing between us—”
“You’ll do anything to keep me safe.” He lifted his head so she could see his face.
Her pulse leaped. She recognized that look—possession and lust, curbed by a hint of tenderness. She broke eye contact and focused on the ceiling.
His gruff voice shattered the protective wall she had struggled to erect between them. “I feel the same way.”
A breath caught in her throat. She felt as if she were launching headfirst off a precipice from which she couldn’t return. She knew what he meant but needed to hear him say the words. With great difficulty, she kept her tone light. “What way is that?”
He grabbed her chin and tilted her head so their gazes locked once more. “I would do anything to keep you safe.”
The knot in her stomach dissolved. She parted her lips to accept a second kiss. The third and fourth soon followed. Lean corded arms surrounded her. Large hands warmed her nape and lower back. Her palms flattened just under his collarbone.
He slid her shirt up. His tongue delved into her mouth in an urgent rhythm. He was asking too much—too fast. All she could do was close her eyes and let the sensuous whirlwind take over.
Only after he relinquished her lips could she remember to breathe. She used his familiar scent as an anchor. When she opened her eyes, his face was less than an inch away from hers.
His demand was almost a growl. “Take off your clothes.”
He shifted into a sitting position, the viselike grip on her forearms forcing her to follow. When he released her, she closed her fingers over the threadbare hem of her T-shirt and peeled it over her head. But for her panties, she was naked. Her lips curved into a mischievous smile as she clutched the garment over her breasts. “Last night, you said you were still angry.”
“I lost that battle when you walked out of the bathroom smelling all minty and fresh.” He yanked his own shirt off and dropped it on the floor. Lowering his back onto the mattress, he admitted, “How I was able to remain coherent is still a mystery.”
Emboldened by a sudden rush of feminine power, she tossed her flimsy shield away. “What about the serious conversation you wanted?”
He made a low rumbling sound as she rose to her knees. What little she knew about kissing she had learned from him. Instinct gave her confidence. She rested her hands on his denim-clad hips and drew a wet path along the groove at the center of his chest. Her tongue followed the shape of his pectorals, eschewing his nipples to trace the ridges below. She savored the taste of salt and sweat, the flow of body heat, and the smell of arousal.
Her hair formed a russet canopy that blocked her peripheral vision, making him the focus of all her senses. She could feel his body tensing against her hands and mouth. His stomach was an array of well-defined muscle. The shadowed planes she kissed became more rigid with each lick and bite. She was definitely testing the restraint of the most lethal foe she had ever faced.
Sliding up his body, she purposefully grazed the tips of her breasts over his chest for a few tantalizing seconds. Before he could close his arms around her, she kissed her way back down. When she brushed her teeth over his nipple, he made a harsh guttural sound.
Forceful hands captured her shoulders and flipped her onto her back. He positioned himself between her thighs before she had time to protest. A moment later, her barely protected flesh was pressed up against the tenting of his jeans.
Annoyed by the interruption, she pushed hard against his chest and reclaimed her position on top. He didn’t resist. Wearing a decidedly masculine expression, his hands clamped down on her hips, holding her lower body captive as he ground against her opening. Ignoring the rush of warmth between her legs, she resumed her exploration of his chest. Her mouth hovered over his nipple as she blew hot air over the turgid nub. Then she caught the light brown flesh between her teeth and sucked.
His groin jerked up and rocked into her. The movement stimulated the bundle of nerves within, and the lancing heat made it impossible for her to focus on her task. Needing to regain control, she slid off him to sit next to his thighs. Her hands trembled as she undid the buckle on his belt.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” His sounded pained.
“Not yet.” She struggled to free the buttons on his je
ans. Gritting her teeth, she glared at him. “There is no easy way to take these off.”
He grabbed her wrists and pulled them off his groin. “I think you’ve done enough for now. It’s my turn to be in charge.”
She narrowed her eyes. “When did you get so pushy?”
His smile was playful. “I’ve always been this way. If memory serves, it’s exactly how you like me.”
He shifted his weight to the side and grabbed the handcuffs he had used last night from the back pocket of his jeans. He dangled them on one finger and quirked a challenging brow. “You have no idea how much self-control it took not to keep you awake last night. Now I want what you owe me.”
She licked her lips. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
His grin was roguish. “I think you do. Considering how you left me earlier this winter, we can probably agree you’re due for some punishment.”
Without warning, he rose to his feet and pulled her with him. With deliberately slow movements, he brought her hands together in front of her. The handcuffs closed over her wrists a moment later. She tested her mobility—bending her elbows and shifting her arms from side to side. At least she wasn’t being tied to the bed.
He turned her around and pulled her against his chest. She could feel him moving as he got rid of his jeans. The rough fabric brushed the backs of her thighs and calves as it fell to the floor. A moment later, the head of his shaft pressed into the curve of her back.
She shivered. Her nipples tightened into sharp peaks. He hooked his fingers on the side of her panties and pulled. With a whisper, they fluttered to the floor.
His hand curved over her bottom. A light smack followed. She yelped—more surprised than hurt. His other hand reached around and cupped her breast. At the same time, he bit down on her shoulder.
“Why do you go out of your way to leave marks on me?” She had always wondered at his reasoning.