by Kit Rocha
“Right.” Jas retrieved a block and pinched off a piece, working it between his fingers until it was malleable. “This expandable shit freaks me out.”
“Dallas O'Kane's right-hand man?” Tank teased. “Never.”
“It should,” Bren said flatly. “I saw a guy get pumped full of it once. They were reinforcing the wall over by Three after it was damaged by the firebombs. Poor fucker got impaled by a nozzle—”
Jasper groaned. “Stop.”
“—and they didn't shut down the pump fast enough.”
Tank grimaced. “Get the fuck out.”
“No, really.” Bren rose. “The worst part is that this shit takes a minute to expand. Literally—sixty seconds. Longest fucking minute of my life. His too, I guess.”
Horrifying, but still fast, no matter how long that minute dragged out. “I'd take sixty seconds over what happens when you wind up on the wrong side of a tractor. You get on toward the end of harvest, with Eden breathing down your neck and everyone around you hopped up on illegal stimulants, and shit gets ugly, fast. Limbs all mangled, trapped and waiting for someone to find you…”
“And people think running illegal booze in the sectors is dangerous.” Jasper held out a clump of the putty. “Patch the other side, Hawk. I want to finish and get the hell out of here.”
Hawk took the putty and set about his task. “So if this works, how many of these do we have to do?”
“Seven more,” Bren answered. “One for each sector. There are a few main tunnels that we know have collapsed over the years, but Dallas wants the doors sealed anyway. Just in case.”
Eight main doors. The hubs connecting the underground network between Eden and the sectors. Hawk hadn't even known they existed before coming to Sector Four, but it sure the hell explained how the military police had been able to appear in Six without warning and disappear just as fast.
Not for much longer, though. Not if Dallas pulled off his crazy plan to bottle the city up so tight it popped.
“Ready?” Bren asked. Tank nodded, and together they closed and sealed the mixing tank. The air compressor hummed idly as Bren slid the slim nozzle into the hole they'd bored through the wall and roughly caulked the edges with more putty.
The compressor firing up reverberated like a shot in the enclosed space, rattling Hawk's bones. The ground trembled beneath his boots, and he slapped a hand against the nearby wall to reassure himself it was steady. But it was vibrating, too, and the nightmare of being lost in a labyrinth of tunnels was replaced by the vivid image of being buried beneath the rubble.
Christ, his thoughts were grim.
The mixing tank began to churn, followed by a liquid hiss. The tube running to the nozzle wiggled like a trapped snake, one that could break free and turn on them at any moment.
They were all thinking it, even Bren, whose severe expression was set in even harsher lines than usual. And it wasn't just the uncertainty of this plan or process, either. It was the fact that they needed to do this, block off every one of Eden's possible access routes into the sectors.
It was another reminder that this was war.
Bren checked the readouts on the mixer, then cut the compressor. The sudden silence was deafening, and Hawk checked the urge to rub his ears.
“Now what?” Tank asked quietly.
Bren pulled the nozzle from the hole and quickly covered it with the surrounding putty. “Now we wait.”
“For?” Even as Jasper spoke, the wooden wall started to creak. As they watched, it bulged slightly, like an overfilled plastic bag. “Oh, that's not good.”
But it didn't explode. It stayed like that, bowed but sound, and they all held their breath until Bren looked up from his watch and nodded. “Now.”
Tank picked up a crowbar and proved that he deserved his nickname. Massive arms that put even Flash and Zan to shame bulged as he pried at the wood. His face had turned red by the time the first board gave with a snap, and Hawk jumped out of the way, still half-expecting the concrete mix to splatter out.
But the empty space revealed a concrete wall, looking as solid as if it had been there the whole damn time. Considering how little they'd pumped into the wall, Bren's story took on a new, horrifying light. “Shit.”
“Yeah.” Jas took the crowbar and swung it at the new wall. It bounced off without so much as chipping it. “Okay, I think we can call that a win.”
Bren ran his hands through his hair. “They can break through it, but it'll slow them down long enough for us to have some nasty surprises waiting for them when they do.”
Jas shook his head and shouldered the crowbar. “Let's report back. Tell Dallas and Lex it's a go.”
There were benefits to not being the new guy anymore. Tank gathered up most of the supplies with a good-natured grumble. Hawk fell in next to Jasper, eager to get the hell above ground. “How'd things go while I was out in Six? Any more trouble on the wall?”
“It's been pretty quiet.” Jas slanted a look at him. “Your visit went all right, I guess.”
The comment had nothing to do with Shipp's trunk full of flares. Hawk and Jeni had arrived back in Four just in time for a status update meeting, and every eye in the room had gone straight to Jeni's throat.
Even Dallas's raised eyebrow and assessing stare hadn't been able to crush Hawk's savage satisfaction.
Mine.
The whole damn compound would know by the time they got back, and Hawk nearly smiled in spite of the stifling air and claustrophobic walls. “Yeah. I'd say it went pretty good.”
“Uh-huh. Can't decide if you move too fast or too slow.”
Too fast at the things the O'Kanes were used to taking slow, and too slow at the things they always took fast. “Probably both. But she said yes.”
Bren caught up to them with his big black bag slung over his shoulder. “Who said what?”
“Jeni,” Hawk replied, and that damn smile broke through on a fresh wave of satisfaction. “I offered her a collar, and she said yes.”
“Yeah? Congratulations. She's a nice girl.”
It was damn close to sweet, and slightly surreal, coming from a man who'd been recounting death by expanding cement only a few minutes ago. Then again, Hawk had seen Bren's girlfriend cheerfully break half a man's fingers before tossing him face-first into the street, so maybe Bren didn't have to compartmentalize these things. “Yeah, she is.”
“Man, I've been out of the loop over in Three,” Bren said. “I didn't even know you two were a thing.”
“Oh, you're all caught up.” Jasper grinned. “Hawk went zero to sixty on this shit.”
Hawk jabbed an elbow into Jasper's arm. “You're the one who told me that's how you show you're serious. I'm fucking serious, okay?”
“No kidding.”
Bren stepped between them. “He's busting your balls. Don't listen to him. He did the same goddamn thing with Noelle.”
“Oh, really?” Hawk laughed. “I always wondered how that went down. I mean, it was big news even out on the farms. Everyone was talking about how Dallas O'Kane had a councilman's daughter dancing in his bar.” It had been the moment Hawk had started paying attention, the moment he knew O'Kane had balls of steel and wouldn't hesitate to spit in Eden's eye.
“It was fast,” Bren confirmed. “And I say fuck yeah. When it feels right, why wait?”
Right didn't begin to cover the way his heart raced when Jeni sank to her knees, touched him for the first time with her tongue, or rested her cheek on his thigh, so sweetly obedient that he ached with it. Right didn't come close to covering how it felt to thrust into her, to ride her orgasm while her moans turned to screams.
“Fuck right,” Hawk replied. “It's perfect.”
Jasper laughed before turning to Bren. “Was I this bad?”
“We all were,” he answered solemnly.
“Then I eagerly await my turn,” Tank said, his voice strained by the weight of the equipment he carried.
Hawk grinned. It was easier now to joke, to
laugh, as if the collar was an O'Kane ritual and now he truly was one of them. “Carry all that shit around the back way so the ladies can admire you, and your chance might come sooner rather than later.”
“On it.” He hitched his load higher and walked faster.
Hawk had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the younger man's earnest enthusiasm. Hawk had been just as wide-eyed in his earliest days in Four—but he'd also had responsibility weighing him down. Tank was diving headfirst into everything the O'Kanes had to offer, including dancers who appreciated flexing muscles and fight night victories.
Tank disappeared around a corner, and Hawk let his laughter out. “He's gonna run the whole way back, isn't he?”
“Probably.” Jasper sobered quickly. “I didn't want to mention it in front of the new guy, but stay sharp, okay? The chance that Eden doesn't have spies in the sectors is slim to none.”
“We would have noticed a plant,” Bren argued.
“Maybe, but not someone who's been here for a while. Someone they managed to get to.” At his friend's startled look, Jas shrugged. “None of the O'Kanes. No one with ink. But Dallas is going to play it close to the vest for a while anyway.”
Hawk considered that. “Smart, after what happened to Gideon.” The leader of Sector One had come damn close to dying at the hands of a man he'd known most of his life. If there was one thing Eden was good at, it was ruthlessness. Anyone with family in the city could end up facing an impossible choice—turn spy, or watch your loved ones die.
Bren rubbed his jaw. “There's another option, you know. We could leak something, and see if it gets back to the Council. If it does, we start our search.”
“Take it to Dallas and Jared,” Jas advised. “I don't have the stomach for that shit.”
“What about that councilman that Lili was so worried about?” Hawk asked. “Any word from him?”
“Nope. Hell, we don't know who's in charge anymore inside that wall. We're just…” Jasper trailed off.
Waiting. Waiting, even if it drove them all crazy, because every day that passed was a day not only where Eden got a little hungrier, but where Dallas grew a little stronger. They'd finished the hospital and were stockpiling weapons and medicine. The only rational, tactical thing to do was drag this stalemate out as long as they could.
Hawk blew out a rough breath. “Am I the only one ready to climb that fucking wall to get this over with?”
“No.” Jasper stopped walking and waited for Hawk to turn. His face was harsh in the artificial light, tense lines and anger. “We could. Count up all the men and women we have ready to go, and we might even outnumber the MPs. But there's one thing we'll never get from Eden, and that's a clean fight. Those Council bastards will hide behind a load of little kids if it means saving their own asses. So we wait.”
“We wait,” Hawk echoed, frustration and selfish relief tangling in his gut. Waiting might be hell, but it also meant time. Time for him to make new lists about Jeni. He'd cataloged her masks, her smiles. Now he wanted to learn every way she laughed, every way she sighed and moaned and begged.
Every way she got off.
Jeni was his bright spot in the darkness, the outlet for all his mounting tension. They could burn it off together, burn through everything until they were too exhausted and sated to worry about tomorrow.
And they could start tonight.
The warehouse was bustling with activity and conversation. Jeni sat around the assembly table, placing full flasks of alcohol into bags before passing them along.
It wasn't the usual packing that went on at O'Kane Liquor, and it wasn't the usual alcohol. This stuff was high-proof, clear and pungent and fresh out of the still. No need for Nessa to age it, because drinking it wasn't a priority. But it would make an excellent antiseptic—and, along with the other medical supplies they'd collected, it could save lives.
Jeni looked across the large square of tables to where Jyoti stood, double-checking the filled bags before setting them aside on a pallet. “How many medics do you and Doc have in training?”
“Fifteen senior medics, as of this week. All of them with some sort of rough training.” Jyoti smiled, the pleasure in her dark eyes offsetting her weariness. “And almost seventy nurses. I've had to open a second house for the school.”
Sometimes, all they could do was look for a sense of accomplishment wherever they could find it. “That's impressive.”
“It helps that Rose House trained its initiates in first aid. Some of them have gone straight to advanced training.” Jyoti's smile turned wry. “The former Orchids are better at taking men apart. We might need to give them a way to do that, Lex.”
“What do you think, Six?” Lex glanced over and arched an eyebrow in challenge. “You up for running some guerrilla warfare training in your new sector?”
“Hell, yeah.” Six's grin was downright feral. “Bren's been whipping our new guards into shape. A little competition from girls who can kick their balls halfway to their ears might keep them sharp.”
“You should check out the warehouse on Halstead,” Scarlet suggested. “My band used to practice there all the time. Good acoustics. Lots of room for ass-kicking, too.”
Six passed another bag to Lex. “I can work with this. Hell, we have the women who are always hanging out at fight night, waiting for Dallas to give them a shot. I could bring them over, too.”
“Knock yourself out, honey.”
“What about you, Jeni?” Jyoti glanced up from the bag she was checking. “Did you find much of what we need in Six?”
“I did. We'll start planting tomorrow.” It was the first time anyone had mentioned her trip, and no one had breathed a word about the leather fastened around her throat—which could only mean that Lex had warned them off.
A quick glance at the woman in question yielded a sheepish wink, and Jeni sighed. At least this explained why Nessa in particular had been so quiet today.
Jeni tucked a flask into another bag and squared her shoulders. “All right. Who wants to ask me about it?”
Nessa let out an explosive sigh. “Oh thank God, I was actually, literally going to die.”
“Literally?” Jyoti teased. “Nessa, it's been an hour, if that.”
“I know!” Nessa planted one elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand, her eyes alight with excitement. “Come on, Jeni. Details. Please.”
With Nessa, it could have meant anything from tell me how romantic it all was to describe the dick, if you will, using no fewer than four adjectives. “There's not much to tell,” she demurred, her cheeks heating. “Last fight night, Hawk asked me if I'd consider a collar, and—”
“Wait, wait.” Nessa raised both eyebrows. “Last fight night, like when you went to climb him for the first time?”
Lex's stare wasn't sheepish now. It was sharp, assessing, and even though she wished she didn't, Jeni knew what she was thinking. She was wondering if Hawk had finally given Jeni what she wanted—but with the collar as a condition.
“I didn't,” she said, as much in response to Lex's unspoken question as Nessa's voiced one. “We didn't, I mean. He asked me to go to Six with him, and some things happened. Some things...changed.”
“Are you happy?” Jyoti asked softly.
It was all so new that she'd barely had time to consider it. But now the shock of the situation, the surprise, had begun to fade, taken over by a sense of something very much like wonder. None of them knew how much time they had, but what she had, she could spend with Hawk—getting to know him, all the things beneath what he would share, what he even realized was there. And her answer came readily to her lips.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I'm happy.”
“Oh man, look at her face.” Nessa sighed again. “His dick must be solid fucking gold.”
Scarlet elbowed her in the side.
“What! I'm jealous.” But she leaned over the table to squeeze Jeni's hand. “I'm glad you got him. We need happy right now. All the h
appy we can get.”
“Yes, we do.” Lex stopped working and looked around the table. “Ford and Mia's reports out of Seven aren't good. Things are breaking down, and people are fleeing—mostly to Eight. Gideon sent some of his Riders in to try and restore order, but I think the losses will be considerable.”
A hush fell over the room. There were so many ways people could die in the sectors—lack of access to food, clean water, security, basic medical care—and the issues were compounded considerably when you were talking about refugees. Eden's military police force didn't even have to set foot outside the walls for its Council to cause enough chaos to kill people.
Six's jaw tightened. “People coming in off the farms in Seven won't know shit about survival close to the city. They'll be easy prey.”
Just like Hawk's family. The thought of Bethany and Luna trying to navigate the dangerous sector streets made Jeni's stomach clench. “There must be something we can do.”
“There is,” Lex replied evenly. “We can win this fucking war.”
Six tapped her nails against the table, her gaze fixed on empty air. “Maybe we can do more. Jyoti, you still need help clearing the roads in Two, right?”
“We need help clearing everything.”
“We're the same over in Three. And hell, it doesn't take much skill to haul rocks. I don't know how much we can pay them…”
“I can feed them,” Jyoti replied. “And you can find them someplace to live.”
“Probably.” Six glanced at Lex. “It's a start, right?”
Lex smiled slowly, her eyes bright. “I think it's perfect.”
Jyoti nodded. “It is. We just have to figure out how to get them over here.”
“Ha.” Nessa waved a hand. “Leave that to Mia. You tell her what you want, she makes it happen. Sector Eight doesn't know what hit it.”
Rachel opened another box of wrapped bandages and started stacking them in front of her. “Nessa and I were talking about the herb garden, and I think we have a decent idea of where and how to convert part of the distillery for processing.”