by Angela White
Nearby, Angela’s anger lashed out in a sharp blast and Kyle screamed as pain flared brightly along his spine. His knees crumbled and he hit the dirt with a gasp as the fire increased.
“Angie!” Marc grabbed her by a scarred shoulder. Her eyes were roiling flames.
“Adrian is not to be killed.”
The tone was without compromise, chilling in its rabid need.
Marc gave in slowly. “I’m trying not to plan it. I really am.”
“Friendlies at the front gate,” the radio cracked, interrupting the tense moment.
Angela jerked away, ignoring Kyle’s flinch as she stormed by. He was slowly recovering, but the mental pain hadn’t faded completely.
Marc helped Kyle to his feet. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” Kyle offered, taking a deep breath as Angela got out of sight and the fire subsided from his spine. “The clear shot was there more than once.”
“Why didn’t you?” Marc asked curiously.
“Because she loves him and we need her.”
It was something Marc had already faced and he shrugged. “We can’t plot against her. She gets cranky.”
Kyle wasn’t amused. “She shouldn’t have done it so openly. The herd is already spooked.”
Marc’s tone dropped into low warning. “The enemy is coming. She’s trying to spook you. She wants everyone angry, ready to fight.”
Kyle considered his own feelings at the moment and gave a curt nod. “That’ll do it.”
Marc didn’t think anger would matter in the end. The levels of manipulations going on here were well above anything Adrian had been doing and it still wouldn’t be enough.
“One face for the world, one for yourself,” Marc muttered quietly, going to check the rear gate of the camp.
During any chaos, camp members would now be able to get to whatever gate was the nearest to them, instead of crushing each other to get through a single funnel. The sirens wailing were Angela’s deadline for backing out of the chores she’d assigned in those dreaded envelopes, and Marc thought it was more than fair. She was giving them every chance to escape the coming bloodbath. He respected her for it, even as he mourned losing the men and women who were choosing not to fight or stay.
“Nothing’s the same now,” was the most common answer. Marc understood. For many reasons, they’d delayed the monthly meetings, camp meetings, daily schedules, level tests, adoptions, underage couple interviews, and runs out of camp for gathering supplies. It was time to hunker down and finish the job before nature unleashed her winter fury on them. If the snow came before the battle, they would lose.
Marc noted the group coming in and detoured that way, though he wasn’t worried over having problems. He simply wanted to see how Angela was doing with their Indian guests. She hadn’t protested their presence here, but he thought maybe she didn’t like it, just the same, and he was still looking for clues.
4
“Please tell him I’m not mad,” Angela insisted.
Red Stone tried not to frown as he said, “Our ways are clear. He must make amends for the curse to be lifted.”
The Indian leaders of the camps around them were here daily to visit Marc, with many of the braves coming and going through Safe Haven’s gates as if they were members. It was easy to see they weren’t, though. The natives were still nearly naked and enjoying the brisk wind, while Safe Haven had made the switch to heavier coats and gloves. A change of season was on the way and when the wind ran down the cliffs, it felt like a frigid spell might be coming. Angela was counting on it holding until her plan was done, but even if it buried them all in feet of early powder, the war couldn’t be halted now.
Angela stared at Atolius with a calm expression, but inside, she was annoyed. The Indian had let it slip about Marc and Kendle, and now thought she had cursed him.
Like he’d be standing there, only sweating, if I’d cursed him, Angela thought.
The witch inside cackled at Angela’s quip.
Red Stone extended the small pouch again and Angela reached out impatiently, bumping his hand.
The peace offering flew into the air and hit Stanley, their clumsy medic who taking a shift on gate duty.
Stanley, completely unaware, fumbled the pouch and tripped backwards, arms flailing. He landed against the gun rack, knocking it over and sending firearms scattering.
The clumsy medic immediately scrambled to grab the weapons, fingers carelessly curling around triggers.
“Get down!”
Too late to avoid it, the recoil of the guns firing knocked Stanley over and he rolled down the small cliff, losing the weapons.
The stray rounds slammed into the ground, the gate, and the tree above them, but didn’t injure anyone.
It was the brittle tree branch snapping that caused damage as it dropped to the ground in front of Atolius and sent up a shower of splinters and dirt.
“What is wrong with you?!” Atolius shouted at Angela in angry fear. “You didn’t even consider my gift!”
A second branch creaked above him in warning as it let go, and Atolius, who hadn’t even had time to cringe from the chain of events, fled Safe Haven’s gates.
Red Stone, unable to keep his stoic façade, burst into laughter, joining everyone else. Even Angela’s laugh was genuine and for one second, all was right with the world again.
Watching from a short distance, Marc waved Shawn to cover Stanley’s post and then continued on his rounds, shaking his head.
Marc spotted Dog sitting restlessly behind the shower camper that was out of rotation for refilling and met the guard on the area with a frown. “Again?”
Daryl shrugged, straight-faced. “He’s washing her hair, boss.”
Marc caught flashes of what Daryl had seen through the window and groaned. “That’s, uh…some hair.”
“Yeah,” Daryl laughed. “I thought so too. When he gets to the next uh, area, I’ll notify ya on it.”
Marc thought when Charlie went beyond staring at Tracy’s body, the entire camp would know. Teenagers weren’t good at hiding things like that.
Marc waited as Daryl went to the camper door and jerked it open, as he was prone to do with any of the underage couples, and Marc was happy. It would appear as though he’d ordered it and was making sure that even his own son was following the rules.
Daryl came out with a blank face and a ‘no problems’ motion, but Marc caught the images easily and sighed. He should go in and scold them, but this was the last day they would all be together and he agreed with Daryl’s thoughts of boys will be boys.
Marc kept walking toward the rear gate. Charlie was sure about what he wanted and Tracy wasn’t going to protest, so let them have a moment or two. Time would test their feelings soon enough.
Before Marc got to the rear gate, Cynthia and Jennifer fell in on either side of him. Marc didn’t say anything. He was fairly sure that he knew what they wanted and why, but going against Angie wasn’t something he was prepared to do over their roles. The females had agreed and he wouldn’t provide a pass.
Jenny gave Cynthia a nod, indicating for her to start.
Suddenly terrified of being the one to ruin it all, Cynthia lost her nerve.
Marc continued toward the sentry on the rear gate. “Keep working on that nerve, ladies. You’ll need it.”
Cynthia and Jennifer exchanged a worried glance as they waited for him to do his check-in.
“Things are quiet,” Jeff answered, surveying a small shadow in the distance. He’d only seen it move once, but that was enough to have him on edge. “Not still, though.”
Marc narrowed in on the spot and almost immediately began scowling. “Have more dust put down around the perimeter and get your crew on standby with rifles. We’re going to have company on the ground.”
Jeff groaned as he hit his radio. “Snakes again. Perimeter team two, report to the rear gate.”
A slight flurry of activity ran through the camp as members were moved away from the dange
r and fighters lined up to handle the reptiles by hand if it became necessary.
Marc hung back, watching Jeff lead the team to the top of the wall. The ladders weren’t always a good idea, but for keeping vermin away from the holes in the gates, they worked well. The shooter stood on the top and had a clear advantage.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The small team fired in steady blasts that sent tension over the camp and clouds of dust into the chilly breeze.
The minor threat was quickly taken care of and Marc waited for Jeff to climb down.
“We’re being jammed, right?”
“Yep. She’s got it covered.”
Realizing Jeff knew that part of the plan, Marc got an update. “It’s all buried and ready?”
“Yeah. She got it going as soon as she chose the location. A couple of the cords were ripped apart during the camp set up, but we fixed it after the sheep went to sleep.” Jeff glanced at a lumpy spot in the dirt near them. “Everything we need to roll it out is under there. Got those all over the place.”
“How long from the minute she calls it?”
“Ten, maybe a little more or less, depending on the chaos.”
That was the best they could do for communications. Marc gave Jeff a pointed look. “What else does she have you on?”
The Eagle grinned. “Just the stuff I’ve waited my entire life to play with.”
“Yeah, she likes to give us toys. More than Adrian did.”
Jeff’s face clouded over, but he didn’t lower his voice. “I’ll handle that for you. In a permanent way.”
Marc was a little surprised and extremely pleased. He’d thought Jeff needed to be converted. “I might want that at some point.”
Jeff shrugged, turning to his post. “You say the word and I’ll go off for a while.”
For Jeff, the thought of being alone in the woods was a good one. Being in camp, around Crista and the other pregnant women, was making him uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure why exactly, and a mission from Brady would give him some time to think. So far, all he’d done was stare at the ground while avoiding everyone, including Crista. She’d moved into the community tent yesterday, unable to take his silence, and Jeff wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He also hadn’t heard that voice in his mind again, and was glad. He liked his life the way it was and there were too many changes taking place for him to adjust.
Marc fought to keep Jeff’s offer from his thoughts as he turned and found Angela walking across the camp. Near to where he was, he had little doubt that she could have heard. He had to hope she’d been distracted.
Dog padded near her ankle and the way she was glancing down told him they were having a conversation. Marc was only a little relieved. At some point, she would have to face the fact that Adrian was not a good man in any way. Once that happened, she might even kill him herself.
If she didn’t, that’s when Marc might worry, though the Eagles might finish the job anyway. Marc was still being surprised by the men who were quietly declaring their loyalty to him. The change in leadership had gone as smoothly as Angie had predicted.
Jennifer had used the time to gather her nerve and she stepped in front of Marc now to lean close, whispering.
When she finished, she took Cynthia by the arm and left Marc standing there with waves of anger radiating from his stiff frame.
“You told him?”
Jennifer nodded, steering Cynthia toward the workout tent. Kevin had gone in there half an hour ago. “Yes, but only what we agreed on.”
Cynthia sighed. “I hope he can help her. She’ll follow through. He has to know that.”
“Yes,” Jennifer agreed. “He also knows we all fall if she dies. Marc will handle it.”
Cynthia and Jennifer parted ways near the Mess. Jennifer joined Millie at the center table, cooing at the baby. The humiliated medic-in-training, Stanley, was now helping Peggy look after little Autumn while Jennifer worked this guard shift with Kyle. He’d sent her on a break and she wanted to spend it with her daughter. In a few days, she and her baby would be parted, maybe forever, and the thought was nearly unbearable.
Jennifer glanced toward the top of the mountain, studying the foreign clouds overhead. Ugly times were rushing toward them and it was too late to hide. All they could do now was stand and fight, and Jennifer intended to give her all. Morals and ethics would be set aside this one time to bring a future peace.
That was the only thing worth all this death and destruction to Jenny, and she said goodbye to her baby silently, refusing to cry. That time was also behind her.
Chapter Two
1
“I gave you a job to do.”
Kenn flinched, turning to see Marc, and scowled. “You don’t know what she’s like!”
Marc chuckled. “Really?”
“I mean it. She does what you want, but everyone else has to fight with her. She isn’t Angela.”
“Yeah,” Marc agreed, thinking if she had been, then he might have been tempted. Once he got over the ugly scars, she had a nice body.
“And Adrian isn’t helping me,” Kenn complained, surprising Marc. “He says to leave her alone and let her settle in, so argue with him.”
Marc could have growled or threatened, or even hit. “Okay.”
As he left, Kenn stared worriedly, not sure what he should do. Marc and Angela were running things, but Adrian knew what he was doing with battered women.
Marc was thinking the same thing. If Adrian thought Kendle needed more time to adjust, he would leave it alone for a while longer, but he still had her under guard. She wasn’t always in control and being here, where there was no blood spilling, had to be rough on her.
Marc had wanted to spend more time drilling his wishes into Kenn, but a slender figure subtly dropping out of sight drew him and he headed for the livestock tent with concern.
2
Angela paused behind a pile of fat boulders, trying to calm her stomach. She’d been walking by the tents they used for protection while butchering and the smells and gore had been too much to take.
Angela heaved noisily into the weeds, bringing up nothing. It seemed like it wasn’t ever going to stop and by the time it did, she was aware of not being alone anymore.
She wiped her face on the hoodie she was wearing, then unzipped it and dropped it on the ground. When she was handed a bottle of water, she rinsed and drank until it was empty.
“He’s going to figure it out. Tell him and let him try to help you. Or let me.”
Angela doubled over as a sharp pain hit, and felt the witch come forward to sooth the muscles. Easy, the witch cooed.
When she looked up, Adrian had seated himself on a large boulder and was chewing on a long blade of grass. He stared at her with a thoughtful expression and dangerously dark eyes.
Angela felt his power swirling over her, ready to give her what she needed, but he stopped just before contact.
Angela had tensed to tolerate (she needed it) and she glowered.
Adrian left his force slide across hers and pulled back. “Ask me.”
Angela’s rage flew out and Adrian found himself on the ground.
When he stood up, she was out of sight.
Adrian chuckled. He loved her spirit, loved pushing her to be stronger than she thought she could. Having a child was hard and she wasn’t a teenager this time, though he was sure she hadn’t had it easy then either. He wondered if she’d ever talked about it and decided it was unlikely. She was doing it all on her own, like she had been after the war and like she probably had been all her life. And there was no way she would tell him anything. Marc would have to grow the balls to dig it out of her.
“What is she hiding?”
Adrian turned to spot Marc standing inside the butchering tent. There was a slit cut in the canvas next to him—a quick exit point.
“The truth you’re too scared to ask for,” Adrian answered.
“Tell me.”
Adrian had been waiting for this moment. �
�I suspect she had trouble the first time around. Something went wrong, worse than losing a baby. I think she would have been told she shouldn’t have more kids.”
Marc felt his stomach drop into his feet. “How can you know that?”
Adrian scowled. “I added the clues. She knows too much about birthing to be avoiding her checkup with the doctor. She’s not eating well, I’m guessing her sleep’s restless, and she…” Adrian glanced away, not ready to be hit again. “She never smiles anymore, not the real ones.”
Marc had noticed all of those things, as well as others. She was quick to snap and slow to offer encouragement. He’d assumed she was preparing them for the ugliness she expected this fight to result in, but she wasn’t spending bonding time with anyone and even the sex was distracted.
Adrian winced at that image, but still devoured the sights and sounds of the memory in Marc’s mind. Any time with Angela would be incredible. The wolfman was a fool.
“I may be a fool,” Marc spat. “But at least I’m not a Jody.”
Marc went straight toward the medical area, mentally going over the questions he had. He wanted to talk to Angela about it, but she would deny anything that interfered with her plans. He wanted a professional opinion before confronting her.
Marc ducked into the medical canvas and stopped when he spotted Angela talking quietly with the doctor. He waited for her to notice him and was relieved when she waved him over instead of acting secretive.
Angela rested against Marc’s warmth as he wrapped his arms around her. “He’s going to give me an exam and make sure things are okay. Will you stay?”
“Sure,” Marc leered. “Can I help? I am familiar with that area.”
Angela snorted and even the sour-faced doctor snickered.
“Here’s your gown. Please get changed and get on the table.”