Nomad

by Lynn Hagen

  * * * *

  Nomad wasn’t fucking around this time. If The Company wanted to send men to recapture him, they were in for one hell of a fight. He had a mate and unborn child to protect, and Nomad would tear their throats out in order to keep Stanton safe.

  The small space he’d sealed his mate inside was reinforced with three inches of steel. Even if the entire cabin was riddled with bullet holes, no bullet would penetrate the walls where Stanton was hidden. Nomad had built that room for himself, never imagining he would have his mate here, never imagining he would have a mate at all.

  What he hadn’t told Stanton was that, when Nomad had had the cabin built, he’d had a few surprises installed. Like the space above his bedroom. Nomad crawled up there and slid the small partition aside that was situated in the corner. It enabled him to see his enemies from two sides of the house.

  He screwed the silencer onto his Glock and waited to see who was dumb enough to tramp through the woods. He spotted two guys so far. If it weren’t for his inhuman sight, Nomad would’ve missed them. They were wearing all black, including black ski masks. It was the perfect cover for a pre-dawn strike.

  Thank fuck Stanton had seen a light flash or Nomad would’ve been caught unawares. The one thing he hadn’t done was install perimeter cameras and sensors, a mistake he planned to correct. That was if he and Stanton could remain at the cabin. If their location was truly blown, he would have to get them out of there.

  Nomad aimed for the one on the far left. He held his breath as he squeezed the trigger. The guy went down, the second man unaware of what had just happened.

  Nomad turned slightly, aiming for the other guy, but he had disappeared. Nomad looked, but he didn’t see where the intruder had gone. He cursed as he scrambled from the ceiling, dropped silently back into his bedroom, and went through the cabin, cutting the lights as he made his way to the kitchen. He quickly grabbed the thin wire that had been stretched across the door when he’d first gotten there and put it back into place.

  Nomad scooted back, staying hunched down by the fridge. When the back door eased open, Nomad held his breath. The intruder walked in, cursed as he tripped over the wire, and went down.

  Nomad pounced. He threw all this weight onto the guy’s back and used the stranger’s own zip ties to secure his hands. He slugged the man in the face. “What’re you doing here?”

  Foul curses fell from the guy’s mouth.

  Nomad slugged him again, hearing a satisfying crunch. He’d broken the stranger’s nose. “I asked why you’re here.”

  “Get your filthy paws off me,” the guy snarled.

  Paws. That meant this guy was definitely working for The Company.

  Nomad dragged him across the kitchen and dumped him into a chair. He slammed his fist into the man’s gut. The guy coughed and wheezed as blood continued to flow from his nose.

  “It’s only going to get worse,” Nomad snapped. “Answer my damn question.”

  “We were contracted to bring you in,” the guy said. “Alive, but unharmed was at our discretion.”

  Nomad wanted to be one hundred percent sure he was right. “Who gave you the contract?”

  The bastard smirked. “You know exactly who’s after you.”

  With a snarl, he punched the guy in the face so hard that he knocked the stranger out cold. The man slumped over as Nomad walked briskly from the kitchen. There was no way only two men were sent in. He had to get his mate out of there.

  Nomad opened the panel and pulled Stanton free. His mate looked pale and was shaking like crazy. “We have to go.”

  “Go where?” Stanton stood there as if he couldn’t move as Nomad gathered as many weapons as he could and shoved them into a duffel bag.

  He pulled his mate to his Jeep and stored both Stanton and his bag inside. Nomad went back into the cabin and to another secret panel in the hallway closet. He grabbed two bricks of C-4, hating that he had to destroy the cabin.

  He went outside and grabbed the guy he’d shot. Once the two were in the kitchen, Nomad grabbed the detonator and rushed to his Jeep.

  When they were far enough away, he blew his cabin sky-high, destroying anything that might help The Company find him.

  Stanton screamed and spun around, staring wide-eyed at the devastation as Nomad headed out of Kendall. He couldn’t stay in his hometown any longer. It wasn’t safe, and in order to keep his family out of this, he had to leave them behind.

  Nomad had a few other safe houses. He’d secured them when he’d escaped the labs. Sometimes being paranoid worked in a person’s favor.

  He grabbed his phone and tossed it out the window, along with Stanton’s.

  “What the hell?” Stanton gaped at him.

  “We don’t need anyone tracking us.” Not only had Nomad grabbed weapons from the cabin but also a small bag of cash. He wouldn’t be able to use his credit cards, his phone, or his driver’s license. Luckily Nomad had a few passports with his picture but different names. He’d set that up way before he’d been captured, when he’d worked for his covert op company.

  And when the cabin had been completed, Nomad had gone on a trip to retrieve those items and bring them back to Kendall, where he’d stashed them in the wall of his cabin.

  All his fellow teammates had those contingency plans in place just in case they had to get away quickly. Nomad hadn’t seen any of them in over six years, but he knew where to find them if he really needed them.

  And right now, he needed as much help as he could get, and Sawyer Murphy, a Green Beret and panther shifter, was about to have visitors because Nomad had no clue where else to go.

  * * * *

  After they’d traveled for hours, stopping only long enough for bathroom breaks and to get a bite to eat, Stanton’s entire body was sore from sitting for so long.

  When they finally arrived at Sawyer Murphy’s, it wasn’t what Stanton had expected. He thought they would be deep in the woods, like their cabin had been, but Sawyer lived in a country home, with a wraparound porch, a swing, and a hound dog lying lazily on the porch. The driveway was a bit long, but the house—except for a large weeping willow tree right next to it for shade—was sitting on an open plain.

  Stanton felt exposed as Nomad drove toward the house. Then again, if anyone was watching them, there wasn’t anywhere to hide. There was nothing but clear skies and miles of flat land all around them.

  The house itself was white with red trim, two stories, and the closer they got, Stanton saw plenty of cameras in various places, pointing in different directions.

  They’d passed the sign welcoming them to Oklahoma a few miles before their exit. Already Stanton felt homesick for the quaint town of Kendall. Everyone he knew was back home, and with the two of them on the run, this place felt cold and foreboding.

  He looked over at Nomad as he parked the Jeep next to the house. Nomad looked at him and gave Stanton a reassuring smile, although the smile didn’t reach his blue eyes.

  “This is only temporary.” Nomad grabbed Stanton’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “We’ll get matters taken care of and return home.”

  The home Nomad had blown up. Stanton felt queasy as he got out and stretched. Nomad joined him at his side as a tall, broad guy with a clean-shaven jaw and dark hair opened the front door and walked onto the porch.

  The hound dog lifted his head, glanced at his owner, then settled back down.

  “O’Brien,” Sawyer said with a handsome smile. “What a sight for sore eyes.”

  “Murphy,” Nomad said. “Thanks for putting us up.”

  Sawyer looked Stanton over. “Didn’t mention you were bringing someone with you.”

  “Last-minute thing,” Nomad said.

  He didn’t touch Stanton, or acknowledge him as his mate. Nomad walked to the porch, leaving Stanton to follow on his own. He didn’t like the feeling of being left out as Nomad and Sawyer shook.

  “And who is your friend?” Sawyer asked.

  “This is Stanton Horace.�
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  What the hell? Stanton had no idea what was going on, but he would damn sure play along. Too bad Nomad hadn’t given him a heads-up. He was starting to see the bigger picture. With the lack of contact, Stanton guessed he was just Nomad’s friend.

  The less The Company knows, the better. The voice ran through Stanton’s mind. He could just hear Nomad telling him that. It seemed even among a friend, Nomad was playing it close to the vest.

  “Come on in, Stanton.” Sawyer opened the door and walked inside, Nomad and Stanton following.

  The house was impressive, decorated with a country theme, but instead of a movie playing on the large flat screen, it was being used as a monitor. Stanton saw the entire front yard, the road just beyond, and the woods past that.

  Then the picture changed and he was looking at the side of the house where the large willow was. Seconds later, the other side of the house and, lastly, the wide-open backyard.

  “Ain’t nobody sneaking up on us.” Sawyer winked. “Got state-of-the-art technology guarding this property. Motion sensors, trip wires that are GPS enabled so I know which wire was triggered. I even fly my drone in the evening just to get a bird’s-eye view. It has night vision and records everything it sees, transmitting it back to me immediately.”

  Stanton was impressed. He felt better knowing the property was well protected, but he was still homesick. Worse, he wanted to feel Nomad’s arms curled around him, but his mate was on the other side of the room.

  “Let me get you two settled and we’ll talk,” Sawyer said to Nomad. “It seems we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  Stanton saw the pinched look on Nomad’s face. His mate didn’t want to talk about his past, and Stanton had a feeling Nomad would be improvising with a lot of the details.

  In that case, Stanton would play mute and stay out of their way, because the quicker they got this over with, the faster Stanton could go home.

  Chapter Seven

  After Sawyer showed Stanton to his room, Nomad went downstairs for some coffee. He hadn’t meant to treat Stanton so strangely, but being back around his old teammate, and having The Company after him, Nomad felt off.

  “Now that we’re alone, tell me what the hell happened to you.” Sawyer poured Nomad a cup of coffee and handed it to him. “We were on a mission, and your departure was pretty abrupt, no word, no contact. Nothing.”

  Hadn’t he just gone through this entire story with his family just recently? It seemed whether Nomad wanted to bury those memories or not, he was being forced to retell them too many times, and it wasn’t getting any easier with each recount.

  “I was at that warehouse in Colorado, the one our handler sent me to scout.” Nomad took a sip of his coffee to try and calm his nerves. Caffeine made most jittery, but Nomad could drink an entire pot and fall asleep.

  “The one outside Westcliff, closer to Rosita.” Sawyer nodded. “Chris Sinclair thought you could handle the recon on your own.”

  Nomad hadn’t heard Sinclair’s name in six years. He’d told his handler that the operation was too big for just one man, that he would need backup. But Chris had insisted that it was a cakewalk, that Nomad, with his skills, could handle collecting intel without the entire team.

  Nomad’s gut had told him otherwise, and he should’ve listened to the warning in his head. His instincts had never steered him wrong, and he’d paid too high a price for trusting someone else’s confidence.

  He told Sawyer about how he’d been blitz attacked and had woken up in some lab. Nomad left out a lot of the details. They weren’t important enough to the story to relive them.

  “If it hadn’t been for Clarke Bailey, I don’t think I would’ve ever made it out of there.” By the time Nomad had finished talking, his cup was drained. He got up and poured another, just to give himself something to do.

  The look of horror on Sawyer’s face said it all, told how Nomad felt inside. He wanted Stanton, wanted to feel his mate in his arms, feel the serenity that flooded him when he held the male. Nomad’s arms actually ached as he sat back down and stared at the black liquid inside his cup.

  “And now they’re after you again,” Sawyer surmised. “That’s why you’re running.” He looked toward the stairs that led to the second floor. “And that’s not just your friend. You wouldn’t risk bringing a civilian with you.” Sawyer’s attention pulled back to Nomad. “He’s your mate, isn’t he?”

  Sawyer Murphy had always been a keen observer, too smart for his own good. He’d been the one sent in to operations when a smooth, charismatic person was needed. But behind those eyes, the guy’s brain computed his surroundings, accessed threats, and came up with multiple plans for how to handle any given situation.

  The house might’ve been smack-dab in the middle of nowhere with nothing but open plains, but Nomad didn’t doubt Sawyer had more than one means of escape if he needed it.

  “You don’t have to answer that,” Sawyer said. “I can see the mistrust in your eyes. I guess I can’t blame you after what you’ve been through. Just tell me what you need from me.”

  “A way to shut The Company down,” Nomad said through clenched teeth. “To stop them from pursuing me, and from snatching any other unsuspecting panther and destroying their life.”

  “I got out of that line of work.” Sawyer sat back in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his head. “But I’m still in contact with our team. I can set something up, off the books. We can shut that lab down and destroy all the evidence they have that our kind exists.”

  They both looked up seconds before Stanton appeared at the stop of the steps. Nomad would’ve thought his mate would be sleeping after their long trip. But it seemed he was just as on edge as Nomad was.

  “Is he pregnant?” Sawyer held his hands up. “I’m not trying to pry, but if he is, I’ll protect him with my life, O’Brien.”

  Sawyer had been right about the mistrust in Nomad’s eyes. Nomad hadn’t seen his friend in six years, and he wasn’t sure who he could trust. Someone had tipped off The Company about what Nomad was. He’d never shifted on a mission, never showed his hand. How would The Company know this information if it hadn’t been fed to them?

  But Sawyer was a panther. Would he have betrayed his own kind? If so, why? Money? To ensure he never ended up in the lab?

  “Don’t even think it,” Sawyer growled. “Nothing, and I mean nothing, would make me betray you or our kind. You take care of your mate while I make some phone calls. I’m gonna bring our team in on this. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

  Nomad was dying to call his brothers, but he couldn’t risk it. He had to keep The Company’s eyes on him and away from Kendall. That was why Nomad was desperate to shut the lab down. Not only to make sure he was never recaptured but to also ensure they never got their hands on Nash, Quinn, or Keller.

  Or their mates and children.

  This was the most important op of Nomad’s life, and failure wasn’t an option.

  When Stanton entered the kitchen, Nomad got up and slid his arms around his mate. He just held him, giving Stanton the comfort he clearly needed, and taking some for himself. Nomad never thought another being could come to mean so much to him—someone other than his siblings.

  But not even they made Nomad feel this level of contentment. It was no longer just him in this cold, insane world. He had a mate and unborn child to look out for.

  “Is everything okay?” Stanton asked. “Can you trust him?”

  Nomad cupped Stanton’s face. “I’m almost positive I can. He’s bringing my old team in to help us take The Company down.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” The trust in Stanton’s eyes that Nomad would make their problem disappear was staggering. They still didn’t know each other well enough, yet Stanton was placing his trust in Nomad’s hands, his faith that Nomad would keep him safe.

  He brushed his knuckles over Stanton’s cheeks and smiled. “It’s a very good thing, love.”

  Stanton rested his hands o
n Nomad’s wrists. “I trust you. So if you say this guy is on our side, I’ll take your word for it.”

  Nomad looked Stanton right in his eyes. “I told you that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, and I mean that, Stanton. I’ll die to keep you safe.”

  Stanton’s eyes widened slightly. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Promise me you’ll be careful, Nomad. Promise that you won’t do anything foolish. I want this over with just as much as you do, but I don’t want to raise our baby without you.”

  Baby. Nomad closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Stanton’s, simply breathing his mate in. “I promise, on both accounts.”

  Nomad finally saw a future for himself, and he would fight tooth and nail to be in his mate and child’s life. He didn’t plan on dying, and as Stanton said, he hoped it didn’t come to that. But if it did, Nomad was willing to sacrifice himself to keep Stanton out of harm’s way.

  He’d never had anyone to fight for, anyone who made him want something this badly. And to think, he’d been keeping an eye on Stanton because he’d been sexually interested in the human. If he’d only known at the time that Stanton was his mate.

  “Are you hungry?” He pulled away and took Stanton’s hand, leading his mate to the table where he could sit.

  “Just a little,” Stanton said. “I’m tired, too, but I didn’t want to fall asleep until I knew we could trust your friend.”

  There were dark circles under Stanton’s eyes. He looked as exhausted as Nomad felt. They could both use some rest, but Nomad was too anxious to close his eyes. He’d gone days without any sleep, but he needed to have a clear head. Maybe after Sawyer made his phone calls Nomad would take Stanton upstairs and they could both get some shuteye.

  Sawyer returned to the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything you want.” He winked at Stanton and gave him a charming smile. “My home is your home.”

  “Thank you,” Stanton said. “And you have a very lovely home.”

  “Wanted as many creature comforts as I could get in my retirement.” He turned to Nomad. “I couldn’t get ahold of Cameron or Sanchez, but Dylan Mackay should be here by tomorrow.”