“Okay, I understand that you need to think about that. Maybe we could meet up tomorrow, somewhere? After you’ve had time to speak to Lilliana?”
My suggestion eases some of their tension, though Barrett still looks skeptical.
“Sure,” Warren says, one hand pressed to his cracked rib. “Let’s meet here tomorrow afternoon. I’m not sure we’ll have an answer for you, but I’d love to hear more about…whatever UA has done to you. And I suspect a few of the others will say the same,” he adds with a glance at his friends. Several of them nod. “Especially if any of those experimental subjects have come from the rank-and-file prisoner population.”
“Thank you. I’ll be here.”
As they head off into the woods, I follow at a distance, my steps silent, hoping to overhear their private reaction to what they’ve just seen and heard.
“Did that really just happen?” Sebastian says, and his lowered voice tells me they’re not sure they’re out of earshot. Or what that might mean, for someone who isn’t entirely human.
“Unless we all just had the same delusion,” Warren replies. “Thoughts?”
“Well, Mallory, I assume you still want to pick up your things from the shelter?” Sylvie asks the other woman.
Mallory nods. “That’s everything I own. Assuming there’s anything left.”
“Ok, but we also need to tell Lilli that some walking science experiment is looking for her, and I’m not sure we can make it back from the shelter tonight. So we should probably split up.”
“You guys head on to the shelter,” Warren offers, still clutching his side. “I’ll go to the Sorority and fill everyone in. My ribs are killing me, and I could really use a night in my own bed. Er…on my vinyl mat.”
“Will you be okay on your own?” Sebastian asks.
“Yeah. It’s not that far.”
“Okay. Please be careful.” Mallory leans in to give him a hug, and everyone else says their goodbyes. Then Warren parts from the rest of his friends.
I feel guilty as I follow him from a distance. I’ve already injured this man once. But this is the best chance I’m going to get, and my Lilliana knows this man. Presumably she’ll trust me if I look like him.
So I sneak up behind Warren. I’m two paces behind him when he finally hears me, and I take a swing at him as he turns. I see recognition in his eyes as my fist makes contact with the side of his skull.
I pulled my punch, unsure how much damage an unaltered human can take, but he drops to the forest floor with one blow. I kneel next to him to make sure he’s still breathing. He is. But my fist split the skin just inside his hairline, so I dip my finger in his blood, then I wipe a smear of it onto his tongue.
Eyes closed, I concentrate on the new DNA sample. It feels healthy, so I let the beast take over, and that now-familiar fire spreads throughout my body again.
This time, the pain is worse than usual, and I find myself curled up on the forest floor next to poor Warren, trying to ride out the system-wide agony. By the time it’s over, I’m drained. Famished and light-headed. Which is no surprise, considering that I’ve put my body through this bizarre transformation twice in the span of half an hour. But there’s no time to rest.
I head back into the half-crushed building, where several corpses still lie on the floor. I have no idea what they did to deserve such violent ends—zone three seems to be more of a war zone than a prison zone—but they’ve left behind a collection of backpacks and some random gear. I dump all their things onto the floor, and as I sort through the small pile, I rip open a protein brick with my teeth and devour it in two bites.
But that isn’t enough, so I dig another one from my own pack and shove half of it into my mouth.
The victors of this fight must have already claimed their spoils, because there isn’t much left that I can use in this sad little pile, other than a bottle of water purification tablets, a couple of books of waterproof matches, and two unopened MREs, of the vegetarian variety. All of which came from the same bag, which must have been overlooked in the scavenging effort.
I shove everything I can use into my pack, then I take off again, headed in the direction of the building I followed Barrett to yesterday, where Lilliana lives with the friends who’re so protective of her. The sun sinks below the horizon while I walk, but there’s plenty of moonlight tonight, and my eyes make better use of it than they did before Dr. Brennan’s procedure. I’m astonished by how much clearer my thoughts are now, but most of the past six weeks are a blur. It still doesn’t seem possible that I’ve been out here that long.
And as badly as I want to get back to my men—to get them off this rock—I can’t leave without Lilliana Marie Malone.
I don’t understand my almost desperate need to be near her, but I can’t deny it. Nor can I resist it. Though the thought of trying to explain all of this to her triggers a panicky pressure deep in my chest. The only way to convince her that I’m not crazy will be to show her what Brennan’s team did to me. Which will likely scare the shit out of her.
After a couple hours of hiking, the pair of buildings I’m looking for comes into view, uphill from the patch of woods where I hid yesterday. The one on the right appears to be unoccupied. Lilliana lives in the one on the left. The one boasting several fire pits dug into the ground and lined with stone, as well as a laundry line strung between two trees out back.
Most of the windows are covered with homemade drapes, but a couple of them are lit up with flickering candlelight, shining through the material. As I approach the front door, someone walks past one of those lit windows, a woman’s silhouette clearly visible through the thin drapes.
I start to knock on the door, but then my hand stills before my knuckles can make contact. Warren lives in this building. He probably wouldn’t knock. So I open the door and step inside.
6
LILLI
The front door opens, and Danna leaps up so quickly that her packet of beef Bolognese falls to the floor. “They’re back!” she squeals as she races out of the room.
Most of our friends get up to follow her, leaving me to pick up their food packets and prop them up so they won’t spill. We’ve been waiting all day for an update on Mallory and Barrett, since Sylvie, Sebastian, and Warren left to find them, and on a planet with no tech, word of mouth trumps food any day.
“Warren?” Danna says from the hallway. “Where’s everyone else?”
“They’re fine. The good guys prevailed, and they went to the shelter to get Mallory’s things,” he answers as I step into the wide front entry hall. Warren’s focus snags on my face like cloth caught on a thorn, and I find myself staring back at him.
The hallway clears out as most of the women head back into their rooms, disappointed that the rest of the group isn’t back yet, because we’d just been reunited with Mallory when she was kidnapped.
“Do your ribs hurt?” Danna steps close to Warren, staring adoringly up at him. “I wish we had some ice for the swelling. Why don’t you lie down, and I’ll get you something—”
“Lilliana.” Warren’s still staring at me. He’s hardly even looked at Danna, and that’s…odd. As is his use of my full name. “I need you.”
“I knew you’d come to that conclusion eventually,” I tease. I expect Warren to laugh, because though we flirt all the time, we both know it means nothing. But this time, he’s looking at me like he’s…serious.
Danna shoots fire at me through her eyes. “Why do you need Lilli?” she demands, turning back to Warren. “Is Mallory asking for her?”
“Yes,” he says. And finally he tears his gaze away from mine. “I’m supposed to take her to the shelter to…help.”
“What kind of help could Mallory possibly need, with Sebastian, Barrett, and Sylvie all there with her?”
“She’s been through hell today, Danna,” I remind her. “She probably just wants to talk to a friend, and she hardly knows Sylvie.”
Warren nods. “That’s it. So, Lilli? Will you com
e?”
A crackling bolt of electricity races down my spine at his choice of words, and by the time it settles into the bottom of my stomach, it feels more like an ember, spreading warmth…lower.
What the hell?
I nod, and I can’t help thinking that I’m agreeing to more than I truly understand. But if Mallory is asking for me…
Danna’s still glaring at me, and I realize that I’m staring. At her man.
Well, Warren’s not hers, really, because she keeps chickening out, rather than confessing her interest, but until this very moment, I’d have said he never even looks at any of the other women. He’s always somewhere near Danna, with a hand to lend or a joke to tell. But now…
Now he’s staring at me as if no one else in the building even exists. And he’s not joking. He’s not even grinning. His features look normal, but the way he’s using them doesn’t.
This is weird.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“No.” Finally he smiles, but again, the expression looks odd on him. As if he’s not quite used to moving those muscles, in that way. “Everything’s exactly right.” His quiet smile smolders, and his focus on me seems to intensify. “But we might be out for a little while, if you want to grab your things.”
Danna frowns. “What things? Why would she need things? You’re coming back, right? Tonight?”
“Traveling one way in the dark is dangerous enough. It might be better if we all come back in the morning.” I brush past her with an apologetic look, heading down the hall. “It’s dark out, and I haven’t had dinner yet.” I glance back at Warren. “Just a minute, and I’ll get my stuff.”
Danna follows me into the room I share with Sahra, where she watches while I grab my bag and snatch a full water pouch and a couple of meal envelopes from our small stockpile in one corner. Then I throw my backpack over my shoulder and turn to find her staring at me with huge, sad eyes.
“Danna,” I whisper, because the door’s standing wide open. “I’m not interested in Warren. I’m going for Mallory.”
“Well then, maybe you could say something to him for me? Find out if he likes me?”
“He does. Trust me.” We’re on a prison planet, surrounded by violent criminals, yet somehow Danna and Warren have managed to establish a fourth grade-style courtship defined by light flirtation and lots of longing looks. It would be cute. If it weren’t so exhausting.
He’s not allowed to make the first move, and she’s too insecure to speak up for what she wants. That kind of nebulous, unspoken attraction would drive me insane.
My kingdom for a man who knows what he wants and is willing to break a few rules to get it.
Of course, my kingdom currently consists of a bottle of one-dose antibiotics, a couple of MREs, and a stealthy self-pleasure technique that has thus far kept Sahra from requesting a new roommate on the grounds that my personal needs are interrupting her sleep.
I head for the front door, where Warren’s still standing like a guest waiting to be invited farther into the building, rather than someone who’s lived here for six weeks.
“Are those new clothes?” I ask as he pushes the door open. They’re prison-issue, just like most of our supplies, but they’re newer than I remember his clothing being. Not that I truly noticed what he was wearing this morning.
“New to me,” he confirms. “There were several casualties this evening—all bad guys,” he adds with a glance down the hall at Danna and a couple of the other women, who’re loitering in doorways. “And we scavenged what we could use.”
“We’ll be back,” I call out. Then I edge past Warren and out the door he’s still holding open for me, and the breath I take as I pass by him makes my lady parts clench. Honest-to-god. There’s actual clenching.
He smells so good.
My face flames as the door closes behind us, but if he’s noticed, he’s not mentioning it. Surely he can’t tell there’s a Kegel carnival going on in my pants right now. Out of nowhere.
We walk in silence for a few minutes, headed for a patch of forest, and I stare at the ground, trying to gain control over my completely bizarre physical reaction to his nearness. When I finally look up, I realize he’s practically staring at me. And every breath he takes is a deep inhalation through his nose.
People don’t breathe like that, unless they’re standing over a Thanksgiving turkey or a tray of still-warm pecan pie. He’s sniffing me like I’m a holiday meal, and suddenly, despite the fact that I just did the same thing to him, I’m worried that the second we venture into the forest, he’ll turn into a wolf and devour me.
“You okay?” I struggle to drag my gaze from his face as we step into the woods, wishing the moonlight were brighter, so I could see him more clearly. His eyes look…oddly intense.
“Yeah. Sorry. It’s just that…you smell so good. And that’s weird.” He frowns, staring into my eyes like he’s looking for something. “That is weird, right?”
“So weird!” I rub my arms, trying to warm them up and get rid of my chill bumps. “And even weirder, because I was just thinking the same thing about you.” Though I would never have admitted it, if he hadn’t said something first.
Warren’s pretty hot, I guess. I mean, he was a gladiator, so he’s basically muscles growing on top of other muscles, even several years after they released him from the arena into zone three. And his facial features are symmetrical, or whatever. But I’ve never really looked at him like that. Maybe because I know how Danna feels. And the truth is that I’m not really looking at him like that right now. As strange as it seems, this is more about how he smells than how he looks.
Yet my gaze feels drawn to him, as if my body is more attracted to him than my eyes are, and my eyes keep trying to figure out why.
And in case that wasn’t embarrassing enough, my feet keep trying to carry me closer to him, like I’m a piece of metal pulled toward a magnet, and I only realize I’ve drifted into his personal space when we both step on the same twig at the same time.
What the hell is going on?
“So, we’re headed to Barrett’s shelter?” I ask, just to have something to talk about other than how good he smells, and for a moment, Warren looks confused. As if he’s forgotten what we’re doing out here.
“Oh. Yes. To see Mallory.” Her name sounds formal on his tongue, as if he’s not used to saying it. Which is fair, considering he only met her yesterday, but it’s like he hardly knows who I’m talking about.
“Did she say much, this afternoon? About Barrett?”
He gives me a puzzled look.
“When you two went looking for him? I know she’s in love with him and all, but I’m not sure I trust him. And she’s been through so much.”
“Barrett is the quiet man, right?”
The quiet man? As if he doesn’t know Barrett either.
But then he nods before I can answer. “Barrett won’t hurt Mallory. He consistently places his body between hers and any threat. Or any semblance of a threat. Those are not the actions of a man who would hurt his woman.”
“His woman? How Paleolithic of you.”
Warren shrugs. “Mallory is his, in the same way that Barrett is hers. They have each other, even if neither of them ever has another thing, in their entire lives. It’s less about possessing someone than it is about having someone.”
“Well, when you put it like that…” I have to admit, that sounds sweet. I’ve only ever been in one serious relationship, and Dan wasn’t the kind of guy you can count on. Not like that, anyway.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” I ask, and suddenly I realize I can see my own breath. I’ve never been to Barrett’s shelter, but I saw which way Mallory led Warren this afternoon, and this wasn’t that way.
“Yes,” Warren says. “When I put it like that, what?”
I frown up at him and shake my head, confused.
“You said, ‘When you put it like that…’ What did you mean by that?”
“I j
ust meant that it sounds nice—Mallory and Barrett having each other. Forever. Even if they never have anything else. And that’s pretty apt, for this place, considering how little we actually have.”
“So then, you want that for yourself?”
“I… Do I want someone like Barrett?” I shrug. “I mean, I certainly wouldn’t turn it down. Someone willing to kill for me, when it’s necessary.” And that’s only a matter of time, on a prison planet. “To track me across zone three and take a beating to get to me. And that letter he wrote her? For a man who can’t speak, he’s pretty damn good with words.”
“So, you would like someone willing to fight for you. And follow you across the zone. And write you love letters?”
I stop walking and frown at him. “This conversation has taken a turn from hypothetical toward creepy. I wasn’t making a wish list.”
“But if you were to make a wish list…?”
“Warren. What’s going on? You’re acting super weird.”
“I’m sorry,” he says as he leads me through the tree line and out of the forest. And though I wait for an explanation, none comes.
It’s even colder out in the open than it was in the woods, and my teeth want to chatter. “Where are we?” Mallory said the shelter she’s been sharing with Barrett was in the middle of an empty field, but this field isn’t empty. It isn’t even really a field. It’s a patch of overgrown grass with a crumbling road running through it, leading to a single building made of standard sheet metal walls and…
The back half of the building is crushed, like a toy someone drove a fist into.
“This is where Varian lives. Where you said Mallory and Barrett were being held.” I heard Warren describe this place this afternoon, when he came back to the Sorority for volunteers to help rescue them. “Are the others still here? I though they went to the shelter.”
“They did. But I’m not going to make you trek across the zone on an empty stomach. We have time to stop for food, and this is as good a place as any to get out of the cold.”
I am cold. And hungry. But… “Are you sure we have time for this? Doesn’t Mallory need me?” I follow him through the warped front door, and though there’s no heat in this building, or in any building I’ve seen in zone three, there’s no wind here either, and that’s an immediate improvement. The entry hall ends abruptly in a crimped pile of metal, where the back half of the building was crushed. “I mean, if she’s waiting… Is she okay?”
Escape (Project Vetus Book 1) Page 7