“I don’t think it was that easy.” Sure, they moved fast. It had been a surgical strike, and they’d used their powers and knowledge to their advantage. “I think you’re not counting how many men and women were there, not to mention the fact we damn near leveled the place.” Or he had at least.
“I’m not discounting them. We’ve taken out facilities like that before.” He shook his head as he guided her over to the sink and turned on the water. The scent of brewing coffee filled the room. When Drake started to wash her injured hands, she let him. He seemed to need it. “But there should have been more there—”
“More enhanced you mean.”
He nodded. “It’s bothering Simon and Garrett, but they are both focused on Michael and Rex at the moment. Well, Simon is, anyway. Garrett is keeping an eye on Ilsa.”
“How are they?” She hadn’t asked yet.
“Undetermined, and I wasn’t doing anything but being in the way, so I left.” When he finished washing her hands, he inspected the broken skin and nodded to himself as if agreeing with her assessment that they really would heal. He grabbed another paper towel and dampened it before touching it to her cheek. “Joss?”
Meeting his gaze, she raised her eyebrows.
“Will you stay?” So much emotion filled the simple question. “You helped us, you did what you said you wanted…but will you stay? For me?”
A dozen thoughts flashed through her mind, but only one took root. “I’m a bit between jobs at the moment.”
Surprised silence met her comment.
Taking a page from his book, she wetted a paper towel and began to clean the blood-soaked scratch on his beautiful head. “I also have a fairly firm idea of the right position for me. One which utilizes all of my considerable skills…” She paused to meet his gaze. “You do realize I have a lot of skills, right? Beyond my great cup of coffee and familiarity with weapons?”
“I assumed.”
Good answer.
Smiling in approval, she nodded, then beckoned him to lower his head further so she could inspect the injury. So many nicks and scrapes covered him, but he seemed intact. Which should have scared the hell out of her—that one man could possess so much strength. Only it didn’t. “You’re a decent man, Drake with no last name. A kind man, a compassionate one. You’re also a fierce soldier. You do the job even when you don’t like it.”
She had firsthand experience of the latter. Still, he said nothing.
“A patient one, too. Another plus for you in the pro column.” Was that a flicker of a smile on the corners of his lips? “What are you grinning at?”
“You’re punishing me.” It wasn’t a question.
“And, if I am?”
“It means yes.” His smile grew.
Joss paused in her ministrations to glare at him until his smile vanished.
“My apologies. Please continue punishing me.”
The desire to laugh damn near undid all her hard work, but she kept it at bay. Just barely. “As I was saying, before you tried to smile and ruin my scolding…you are a good man. One I have come to respect, but I had a life before I met you. It might not have been the best life or the one most filled with promise, but it was mine. If I stay, it goes away. Doesn’t it?”
“It does.” Honesty sobered his tone.
“Then I need to make a vow. However long it takes, even if it takes the rest of our lives…when your mission is done, we find a life together.”
“Very well.”
That was it? Joss drew back to stare at him. “That’s all you have to say?”
He peeked at her, the anxious boy within the man so earnest and devoted, her heart threatened to collapse. “I wasn’t sure if a whoop for joy and a smile would ruin your…what did you call it? Scolding again?”
Behind him, a single beam of sunlight penetrated the cloud cover and Joss smiled. Drake might be big, scary, and from the damn future, but he was that spot of light in her overcast skies. “Scolding is done, soldier. As you were.”
His whoop buoyed her as his kiss stole her breath. Time travel. Heroes. Sinister plots. None of it mattered. She would deal with it as it came.
They would deal with it together.
Wrapped in his arms, Joss managed to break the kiss long enough to whisper, “And I want my Taser back. Stronger.”
“Anything you wish,” Drake answered. “But it still won’t work.”
She laughed. “Challenge accepted.”
Yes, together.
Epilogue
36 hours later…
* * *
Quiet fury seethed within Michael as he stood to the side of the demolished building. It was the middle of the night. Rescue crews had ceased their efforts when all who worked within the Infinity Tower had been accounted for. Watchmen still on duty had been taken over by Simon then put into a painless, dreamless sleep for the duration.
In the center, Drake worked his way through the heavier pieces while Amanda and Garrett kept watch. Next to him, Ilsa said nothing. She’d argued vociferously about Michael coming to the site, but he wouldn’t be left behind. Thankfully, Joss Archer—Drake’s woman—had agreed to stay with Rex and the patients.
No one could find Rory. Simon couldn’t reach out to her telepathically. That meant she was either captured or… His heart threatened to detonate in his chest. The other possibility was one he refused to court. When he’d knocked her out, he’d left her with his brothers. They had to have protected her.
“There’s something here,” Drake’s solemn declaration slaughtered his hope. Another heave, and a large chunk of cement with a partial stairwell came clear.
Not waiting for anyone else, Michael descended into the pit where Drake worked. A limp kept him off balance, and his left hand trembled. Bone deep weariness and pain he couldn’t begin to describe, held him captive. He’d been dehydrated, his blood volume low, and his body showing the ravages of malnutrition.
None of that mattered.
“Michael,” Drake said, catching him by the shoulder before he could take another step.
“Let me go.” It was an order. Rex remained unresponsive. Ronan left, vanishing from the Isle—not that Michael had even met him, but Rory had wanted him back. No one had found any sign of Josh or Curtis at the facility where he and Rex had been held. At some point in the haze of his memory, Michael recalled them leaving. The interrogation techniques used, however, left some holes in his recollections.
Drake released him and Michael made the last few uneven steps on his own. A light shone into the pit, and Michael dropped into the wreckage refusing to believe what his eyes told him.
Falling to his knees, he turned the body over.
“Rory…”
She lay utterly still, her face almost peaceful, as though asleep. Dust coated her face, and dulled her blue-black hair. A scrape marred her cheek, and a cut split her lower lip. Putting two fingers to her throat, he searched for a flicker of a pulse.
Nothing.
Pressing his ear to her chest, he listened.
Nothing.
His heart stuttered.
“Rory.” He wanted to roar. To rage. To scream.
Nothing.
Utter devastation held him captive. He’d failed. The others came down. They said something to him, but it was all dull noise.
Saving her—loving her—it had been everything. He’d left her alive, unconscious from a sleeping drug, but alive.
All he’d wanted was to protect her from herself. To save their future, he had to save her. What the hell was the point without her?
“Michael,” Simon said, kneeling next to him. “We need to go.”
“Then go.” He wasn’t leaving her.
Not again.
How could he have screwed it all up? All he’d wanted was to save her…
Her fingers twitched. Shock jerked Michael’s gaze to her face even as Simon gave a violent start. She remained so utterly still. Had he imagined it?
“Impossible,”
Simon breathed, and that single word ignited Michael’s hope.
“Rory?” Michael checked her pulse once again—and there it was, the faintest flutter. “Babe?”
“You son of a bitch…” The whispered words were the best thing he’d ever heard.
She was alive.
Don’t miss the stunning conclusion to the Boomers saga:
* * *
Heroes of Tomorrow
About the Author
National bestselling author, Heather Long, likes long walks in the park, science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas summertime. From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her stories—her characters drive the books. When she’s not wrangling her menagerie of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family. She believes if you like your heroes so real you could lick the grit off their chest, and your heroines so likable, you’re sure you’ve been friends with women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does.
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Also by Heather Long
Always a Marine Series
Once Her Man, Always Her Man
Retreat Hell! She Just Got Here
Tell It to the Marine
Proud to Serve Her
Her Marine
No Regrets, No Surrender
The Marine Cowboy
The Two and the Proud
A Marine and a Gentleman
Combat Barbie
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
What Part of Marine Don’t You Understand?
A Marine Affair
Marine Ever After
Marine in the Wind
Marine with Benefits
A Marine of Plenty
A Candle for a Marine
Marine under the Mistletoe
Have Yourself a Marine Christmas
Lest Old Marines Be Forgot
Her Marine Bodyguard
Chance Monroe
Earth Witches Aren’t Easy
Plan Witch from Out of Town
Bad Witch Rising
Elite Metal
Pure Copper
Fevered Hearts
Marshal of Hel Dorado
Brave are the Lonely
Micah & Mrs. Miller
A Fistful of Dreams
Raising Kane
Wanted: Fevered or Alive
Wild and Fevered
The Quick & The Fevered
Going Royal
Some Like It Royal
Some Like It Scandalous
Some Like It Deadly
Some Like it Secret
Some Like it Easy
Martini Sisterhood
Shaken
Mongrels
Mongrels, Mischief & Mayhem
Soulgirls
Into the Spotlight
Taking the Stage
Waiting in the Wings
Playing Against Type
Behind the Curtain
Watchers
Forbidden Rescue
Wolves of Willow Bend
Wolf at Law
Wolf Bite
Caged Wolf
Wolf Claim
Wolf Next Door (Under a Wolf Moon Anthology)
Rogue Wolf
Bayou Wolf
Untamed Wolf
* * *
Coming Soon
Wolf with Benefits
Cat Scratch Fever
A Man Called Wyatt
Breaking the Rules
Unstoppable Page 18