The click of the door had Williams reach into his front breast pocket, not for his soothing metallic marbles, but for a small case he had taken to carrying around with him. He opened it carefully on the desk and removed one of the syringes found there, popping off the protective cap. Only paying partial attention to his own actions, he removed his gloves, flicked the syringe to be sure there were no air bubbles, and then slipped the needle into a bulging vein in his hand. Pressing the plunger with a hand that trembled only slightly, he stared at the puncture site, enjoying the icy cold of the fluid as it slipped up his arm. He closed his eyes at the sensation, taking a deep breath. The tremors that had been building in his body smoothed away within seconds. Williams smiled to himself at his genius as he replaced the tools of his survival back into their case and secured it in his pocket.
Chapter 28 The Enemy of My Enemy
Gavil knew he had a job to do, and no matter what he couldn’t get out of it now. But there was one person he needed to see before he could do anything else.
“Step aside. I have to deliver a message from the Director.” Gavil stared, unflinching at the guards stationed outside the room he’d learned his brother occupied. It didn’t take much digging. Everyone knew Gavil Young and they knew him to be one of Williams’ chosen inner circle. He asked a question, and answers were immediately forthcoming.
“Right away, sir.” One soldier fumbled with a key from his belt unlocking the door to Creed’s quarters while the other stood to the side and saluted. As soon as physically possible, the door stood ajar and no one stood in Gavil’s way as he entered his brother’s room.
Gavil marched into the room and closed the door behind him. His brother was seated on the edge of his standard issue bed. He hadn’t even looked up; his eyes were locked onto the image of the girl.
“Creed,” he whispered.
Creed didn’t look up, but spoke. “I can’t decide, Gavil.”
“You know you don’t really have a choice, right?”
“I know if you’d succeeded in killing me back at the Match, I would have never met this girl. I can’t decide if that would have been better.” Creed’s voice sounded disconnected, even to Gavil who couldn’t give a rat’s ass.
“What the hell difference does it make now? You know you have to get on the plane, right?”
“I’ve dreamed of her, Gavil. I remember her in my dreams, but until just now, I thought she was just that—a dream.”
“There’s no one that’s going to rescue her from him, except you. If you want her to live, you have to play along with his game, until we can kill him.”
“What did you say?” Gavil’s words caused enough surprise in Creed, they yanked his eyes from Meg’s picture so he could frown at his brother’s face.
“Listen, I know I hate you, and you hate me. I don’t care. The only thing I cared about was tossed out with the trash six months ago. I always knew this place was hell. All I knew was hate, manipulation and power. What the hell was the point of any of it, right?”
Then I met a girl. She was a meta who kept to herself. She had a top-secret assignment and was usually on duty, but she came to deliver a message to me from Williams when I was recovering from our Match. That’s the first time I met her. We talked—I mean really talked. She was different. She made me want to be a better man. But she…” Gavil shook his head angrily. His eyes looked red. Creed stared in confusion, wondering what Gavil’s angle was.
“She was killed. Her body incinerated along with all the other medical garbage. She was just a pawn in one of Williams’ damn games.” Gavil’s eyes glistened with tears Creed had never known his brother to shed. “That’s just it, Creed. We’re all pawns in Williams’ sick games.”
Creed stared at his brother through new eyes, unsure whether to trust him. Could a girl change him so drastically? His eyes slipped down to the photograph still clutched in his large hands. Her dark hair was spilling wildly out of a clip as it swung. She was running and was in mid stride as the photograph was snapped. Her face was a mixture of concentration and emotion as she looked toward, but not directly at the camera. Her figure was lean and muscular but not so much that it hid her soft female curves. She was strikingly beautiful, but it was her eyes that commanded his attention. They were large, wide-set, dark pools that seemed to look directly into the soul—to cause joy or pain with equal devastation. He knew in a part of his heart that still remembered every moment with her, that he loved her completely.
Yes, a girl could melt his brother’s icy heart, just as one had melted his own.
Creed looked back into crystal blue eyes of his brother and nodded. “I have to protect her from Williams.”
“She would have wanted me to turn the other cheek,” Gavil mumbled unable to say his former love’s name. “She used to tell me to let go of my anger with you. She told me she believed family to be a beautiful thing, that she remembered her own mother before she died after a long illness. That’s why she was orphaned, and fell into Williams’ recruitment machine. She told me I should feel lucky to have a brother.” Gavil scoffed at Creed like that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
“Even though she’d tell me all these things, she never judged me for how I felt, or for what I did. It’s like she was waiting for me to come around to her way of thinking.” He stared at his hands, as though remembering her holding them.
“She would want me to help you and Meg.” Gavil shrugged. “I’m doing this for her, Creed. Everything I do now is to honor her memory.”
“I don’t have much time,” Gavil looked around the room as though waking from a dream. “Williams told me you and I are to figure out who ‘leads’ the team, so it would make sense that we talk on the plane. We just have to make sure everyone still thinks I hate you. I don’t want anyone catching on to any plans we come up with.”
“Gavil, are you really going to help me?” Creed wanted so badly to trust his brother, but was fearful.
“She’s beautiful, man.” Gavil nodded toward Meg’s picture before reaching into his own pocket. He pulled out a picture carefully laminated for protection and smiled at the image softly before handing it to his brother. “This is her.”
Creed looked into the face of a smiling girl wearing fatigues, red hair falling loosely around her shoulders in waves as though it had just been freed from a tight braid. Her green eyes crackled with kindness. Standing in the picture beside her was Gavil. He was ignoring the camera, choosing instead to watch the smiling girl at his side. His brother never looked happier than he did in this picture next to the girl he loved.
“I’m sorry, man. You two look really happy together.” Creed didn’t know what else to say to his brother. Life sucks.
Gavil nodded solemnly, taking the picture from his brother and slipping it back into his pocket as though he’d done it a thousand times before.
“Meet me at the hanger in thirty minutes. We’re going to have to keep everyone thinking we’re ready to kill each other, but when it comes to it, Creed ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ I want Williams dead. Clear?”
Gavil extended his hand to his younger brother. All of this was so foreign to Creed, he hesitated briefly before reaching out and shaking the hand of the person who tormented him his whole life and even tried to kill him more than once.
The brothers locked eyes as they stood together—an unspoken truce accepted by both. Nodding, Gavil turned to the door, fist pounding on it. It swung open. “He will need an escort to the hanger in exactly thirty minutes,” Gavil barked the order to the soldier nearest him.
“Sir, yes sir.” The meta clipped.
Without a backward glance, Gavil turned left and walked down the research hospital’s hallway passing undisturbed, thoughts of her always just below his gruff surface.
Chapter 29 You’re Not On My Mind
She heard breathing.
Rhythmic, deep, sleeping breaths.
Meg couldn’t open her eyes—terrified at what she wou
ld find.
It may sound childish, but she didn’t care. She refused to confirm what she was pretty sure had happened.
The slow, contented breaths had to come from her friend turned more-than-friend, Cole asleep in her bed. She stifled a groan.
Inwardly, she laid into Evan for making her take those freakin’ sleeping pills. She was so lonely, so hurt from months of self-inflicted isolation and sleep deprivation. Meg was intoxicated with the chemical induced pleasure of feeling sleepy. She was drunk on a full stomach, a my-family-loves-me-no-matter-what kind of peace and a handsome guy pouring love down the empath funnel directly into her aching heart. He was so gentle and warm snuggled close and when he kissed her (she swallowed hard), he kissed her as if he was tasting the most delicious chocolates.
Damn it! It was the perfect storm for crossing the line!
Eyes still pinched shut, Meg let up her anger at everyone else and realized there was only one person to blame for any wrongdoing: herself. She should have never let this happen.
With a deep sigh, she forced herself to open her eyes and face the truth lying right beside her. She didn’t know what she was going to say, but she couldn’t lie in bed with a blanket pulled over her head forever, however much she wanted to.
And there, laying peacefully beside her was…Maze.
At sensing her movement he opened his sleepy yellow eyes and winked at her before lifting his head and yawing wide enough for her to count each and every one of the flesh-tearing teeth inside his muzzle.
She stared, wide-eyed. “Maze?”
“Meg?”
Her head spun at the voice from behind her. There, seated in the wingback chair in the corner of her room, was Cole rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His clothes were rumpled and he moved as though carefully working the kinks out of his body.
“Cole?”
“Hey, kid. How did you sleep?”
Her jaw dropped as she looked back and forth between the coyote still lying beside her and Cole rolling his stiff neck slowly in a chair five feet away.
“Um…you tell me.” She had never felt more confused than she did that moment.
“Well, there was no screaming, moaning or thrashing,” he smiled. She was too panicked to read his emotions.
What the hell did he mean by that? Meg started gnawing on her bottom lip. Holy crap, her eyes bugged out. Did we do more than kiss? Was that a mischievous glint in his eye?
He stood and reached his muscular arms high above his head, stretching his full six foot, two inches and grinned adorably at her. “Are you hungry?”
Meg couldn’t do anything but stare and try to control the fight-or-flight impulse coursing through her body. She shook her head and covered her face with her hands, trying to control herself.
All she could think was, Oh my, God! Oh my, God! Oh my, God!
“Hey, are you okay? You look upset all of a sudden,” Cole’s green eyes crackled with worry as he walked toward her and sat at the edge of the bed. His warm hands grabbed her wrists and gently urged her hands away from her face. He studied her carefully, waiting for her to respond.
“Cole, don’t be mad at me when I ask this, okay?” Meg was tried to control the panic in her voice.
“Okay.” Cole looked warily at her.
“No, seriously. I need to hear you say it,” she pleaded.
“Say what?” he frowned; worry forming shadows in his handsome brow.
“I need to hear you say, ‘Meg, I won’t be mad at you.’ Can you do that for me? Please?” The more she spoke, the more she was beside herself with terror that she was about to make things so much worse.
He squinted at her, then rolled his eyes and repeated, “Meg, I won’t be mad at you. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
Meg hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and blurting, “What happened between us last night?”
Cole’s face was unreadable in her panicked state. “What do you mean?”
Unable to stop herself, Meg shook his hands off her wrists and flew out from under the covers. She began pacing the floor, periodically flapping her hands as if she had spider webs clinging to her finger tips.
“Last night, Cole. I remember Evan giving me sleeping pills and you were sitting there in that chair,” she flapped toward the wingback, “and I got in bed…”
She stopped pacing and stood ridged waiting for Cole to finish the story.
“Yeah,” he said. “Is that all you remember?”
Meg chewed her lip and nodded.
He hadn’t moved from where he perched on the edge of her bed, but now he stopped to look down at his hands.
“Cole, what happened?” I heard panic in her voice.
After a moment that felt long enough to have grown a sequoia, he shook his head casually, looked up and smiled at her. “You fell asleep, Meg.”
She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until then. She exhaled. “That’s it?”
“You were really sleepy from the pills. You got into bed and,” Cole shrugged, “next thing I knew you were sound asleep.”
Meg frowned deeply and resumed pacing. After two passes, she stopped and looked at Cole. “I’m just going to throw this out there: I dreamed of us.”
His eyes widened before he turned away, stood and absently busied his hands by making the bed.
Maze, bored with their conversation, jumped off the bed and walked to the closed door. So accustomed to her coyote, Meg didn’t even think about it when she followed him and opened the door for him to leave. When she turned back to look at her friend, he was carefully positioning the pillows. His large hands stood out beautifully against the white of the pillow case. They seemed to linger over the pillow still warm from her sleep.
He turned toward her and shoved his hands deeply in the pockets of his jeans, offering an innocent shrug. “Well, I dream of us all the time.” His face blushed beautifully.
Meg opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, he said, “Listen, I’m going to go. I’ll see you later, Meg.” Just three of his long strides had him already at the door Maze just exited.
He stopped and looked back over his muscular shoulder at her. The green of his eyes danced in the morning light with crisp green streaks bursting from the black pupils that seemed to dilate every time he looked at her. “I’m glad you had a good night’s sleep.” He nodded slightly and stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind him.
Meg frowned at the closed door.
What the hell just happened? She scowled at her toes, feeling an overwhelming urge to kick and punch and inflict bone crushing pain. Instead, she stomped into her bathroom to brush her teeth.
Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from her room with minty fresh breath, her wild tresses braided in one long plait down her back and dressed in running clothes.
“Meg?” she heard her mother’s voice from the kitchen.
Sighing deeply, she walked into the kitchen. “Morning, mom.” Meg smiled at her mother’s warm brown eyes hiding, as usual, behind the dorkiest pair of black-rimmed glasses.
“You look much more rested,” she grinned as she passed her a glass of orange juice. Meg scowled at it and handed it back.
“Thanks, but I can’t drink orange juice. Just brushed my teeth and you know how gross citrus tastes mixed with toothpaste,” she shrugged.
“Right. How about milk?” she offered, head buried in the refrigerator. The white lab coat she was already wearing spoke volumes of her plans for the day.
“That’d be great, thanks. You working in the lab today?”
“Theo, Evan and I have already been at it. We’ve accepted another contract from the Center for Disease Control. We can’t live off our savings forever,” she shrugged casually as she handed Meg a piece of buttered toast.
“Oh? Interesting assignment?” Meg asked as she dished a spatula full of scrambled eggs to her plate.
Margo grinned, “You know me. Any scientific research or study is fascinating!”
&n
bsp; “Right,” Meg said, and bowed her head to pray silently.
“Have you seen Cole?” she asked through a mouthful of food, trying to sound nonchalant.
“He left with Alik and Farrow to get back to training.” Mom emphasized the word “training” in a way that led Meg to believe they were doing more than lifting weights.
Alik had taken Cole under his wing—teaching him some necessary skills every metahuman who hangs out with the family should know to survive. Alik was a good teacher. He was patient and calm with both Cole and Farrow as he worked with them. He never talked down to them, but he seemed to naturally know how to build on their prior knowledge. They had become very good friends, and they were all thankful for it.
With Evan always hanging out with mom and Theo, Meg had been left to her own devices a lot lately. She frowned at the crumbs on her plate as she walked it to the sink for a rinse.
I really have isolated myself from my family since we moved here, Meg thought.
She glanced over at her mother, who was starting to clean up now that everyone had eaten breakfast. Maze whined at her feet, wanting to help lick the dishes clean.
“Oh, you rascal,” she was saying to him. “I am not feeding you from the table. You’re not a young pup anymore, and it’s not good for you.”
Meg smiled at how everyone talked to her coyote as if he understood every word.
“Meg, why don’t you take Maze and get going on your run before I give in to those sweet yellow eyes and fix him a plate of bacon.”
Maze licked his chops at hearing the word “bacon.”
“You sure you don’t want me to help you clean up in here?” she offered.
“Oh, thanks, honey, but I got it. You go enjoy the morning.”
“Well, come on, you wily coyote,” she called to him.
Winter's Wrath: Sacrifice (Winter's Saga #3) Page 18