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1
Duty pulled Marc from Angela’s hot arms just after a pale dawn that still promised rain.
No one came to get him up. He’d crashed in the tent with her, but the alarm in his mind brought him to alertness, saying the herd was stirring.
Marc eased off the air mattress and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders as she snuggled into the warm spot he’d left. He stole a minute, watching her sleep, then pulled on his jacket and boots, and quietly zipped up the tent behind him. He hoped everyone would give her a few more hours of sleep, but knew it was unlikely when he spotted Kyle and Daryl nearby.
They didn’t speak to him, and he went to the mess for coffee, understanding those two were her protection now that he wouldn’t be with her.
Marc spun to verify it and found both guards standing outside the flap, their backs to it and hands on holsters.
He turned back around, not slowing as he went by the noisy medical tent. He gathered himself as best he could, forcing his brain to act like nothing was wrong. It was a chore to conduct normal camp business, but there were lists, schedules, instructions, and conversations, and Marc’s head started thumping long before it was finished.
It was almost an hour before he made it back to the QZ. He went to Kenn first, avoiding Adrian’s bedside. His deathbed, Marc’s mind whispered.
Marc knew that Adrian wasn’t better as soon as John met him at the flap. After quick eye contact with the men, a nod to Anne, and a very fast glance at the curtains shielding Adrian, they stepped outside.
“The infection set in and his fever started rising. Around dawn, I put up a partition because he was ranting and tossing,” John explained. “I also sedated him.”
“Good,” Marc praised. “Adrian wouldn’t want everyone to see him that way.”
“No,” John agreed sadly. “I’m hoping the antibiotics will smother the infection, but if not, there’s little else I can do for him.”
Marc’s heart was heavy as he nodded and then headed toward Angela’s center tent. What would they do without Adrian?
Marc realized he’d finally caught what was going around. Adrian was reason they’d all come together, and nothing would be the same if he were taken.
The part of his heart that was hoping for the man to die, he ignored.
2
“He’s waking up.”
“Copy,” Marc answered. He was nearby.
After three full days of drinking at the table from dawn to pass out, Mitch was looking and smelling rough. Every time he’d tried to get up, he had been told to keep drinking, that it was his party.
Marc slid onto the damp bench as their radioman opened bloodshot eyes.
“Morning,” Marc called cheerfully.
Mitch flinched from the loud word. “Whass?”
Marc motioned Li Sing forward. “How about something to drink? That always helps, right?”
Mitch stared in baleful confusion. He barely remembered passing out here, but Marc’s friendliness was bright in his mind.
Marc tilted the cool beer up and let half of it roll down, controlling his gut.
Mitch again chose the whiskey instead of beer, and the two men spent a quiet moment of silence–one drinking, one thinking.
Around them, the camp was already going about morning rituals, while in the QZ, there was almost no movement.
Marc waited for Mitch to become alert and then glassy, for the bloom of roses to come into his cheeks. When he saw those signs, Marc switched from friend to teacher.
“Adrian wants you gone. On your own.”
Marc didn’t react to the immediate panic and denials. He told only the truth.
“Kevin has your job now, Mitch. You have no value to the boss anymore.”
The radioman’s head dropped, telling Marc he’d already figured that out for himself. Good. That made things easier.
“Matt will stay here.”
Mitch began to cry. “Thank you for giving him another chance!”
Marc blinked. There was a real person inside there. Another insight Marc hadn’t agreed with, but Adrian was able to see inside his people and find what would reach them.
That’s why he’s the leader, instinct stated firmly. It’s also why he’s damned. You can’t recognize so deep a secret unless you’ve had the same issues. Adrian had been through this before, all of it.
Marc shook off the eerie thought that followed, We all have, and got back to helping Mitch.
“He thinks you’ll die out there alone. That’s why no order has come down on you yet. Is it true, Hopkins?”
The whiskey opened Mitch’s mouth. “I survived before. I will now, too.”
“That’s what I told him,” Marc stated.
Mitch stared in sudden suspicion. “You don’t like me.”
“Like? No. Believe in? That’s different.” Marc leaned forward. “I have a fondness for Matt. I’m going to help Cyn and Angie straighten him out. I can do the same for you.”
Marc sat back. “Or you’re leaving. Today.”
Mitch wanted to take the offer, but was certain it would be hard. The man inside was shouting, but the alcohol was burning, calling.
“Take your time,” Marc encouraged. He swallowed another long drink of his sweaty beer. “Mmm. I have one or two on average a week, but I always want more.”
Mitch stared, trying to process what that meant.
Marc sighed regretfully, aware that he had attention now. He dumped the remaining beer onto the ground near the table. “But I’m a man and I make the choices.”
Mitch got the point, and it wasn’t enough.
Marc tossed out one of his own secrets with a sense of relief. “I used to be a drinker, too–a heavy one. It got me in trouble.”
Mitch gaped in surprised. “You’re a alcoholic!”
Marc gave him an embarrassed shrug. “Like most of us, I hate that word, Mitch.”
It made Mitch believe. No one else but a fellow addict would know how dirty that word made them feel. “Me, too.”
Marc stood up, stomach rolling. “Finish that bottle, enjoy it. When it’s gone, either go get a shower and a lot of coffee, or say goodbye to your son and get out of this camp. It’s your choice, but make it today, or I’ll do it for you.”
Marc quickly got out of sight and hearing distance, and allowed himself a minute to vomit. His CO had given him a much harsher lesson than the one Mitch was receiving, making him drink from dawn to dawn for three days straight. As a result, he loathed any type of alcohol in the mornings. He hadn’t been actually and honestly drunk since becoming a Marine.
3
Angela ducked through the flap, nodding to Kyle, who looked as bleary as she felt.
“Got a minute?” Marc called from nearby.
“Not really.” Angela kept going. “Walk with me.”
They had five men in the medical tent with gunshot wounds, one with a high fever of unknown origin, and three with minor bone breaks. It had been a rough mission. Twenty-four confident, well-armed men had come into this city with her. The same number had come out, but none of them was the same.
Marc fell in step. “What’s the hurry?”
“Adrian’s awake and calling.”
“Good.” Marc forced himself to sound as if he liked being in charge of Adrian’s herd. “I need some things from you.”
“Like what?”
“Don’t know what to tell people about Conner, for starters.”
Angela went to Kevin, who was on duty over the first truck. “I need a 24-hour guard put on Matt and Cynthia in here with me. You’ll need to cover the shifts for each person you move around.”
Kevin’s gaze went straight to the new patch of gray showing from the side of her ponytail and Angela winced. It was noticeable. Damn.
She gave Kevin a single head shake, and the Eagle understood that she didn’t want her man to know the side effects of using so much magic.
Wondering if the sharp guy at her side had missed it, Kevin took out the notebook Adrian had given him not long before they’d gone into that cursed city. He wrote as he spoke. “I’ll have it taken care of.”
She sent him a silent request. How long? I need it before…I need it soon.
The Eagle immediately vowed to work hard on the mental lessons he was going to be a part of when he reached the next level. “Fifteen minutes.”
Angela felt his silent despair and refused to offer false comfort. “Good.”
She went toward the shower camper next.
“Angie.”
Hearing Marc’s growing concern, she grunted, “Give me some time to get him settled first. For now, he’s the only survivor from Little Rock that we were able to bring out with us.”
Angela got a chill at seeing Marc write down her words. Why?
Because it means he knows that you’re my replacement.
Angela scowled at Adrian’s weak words in her mind. He sounded bad.
“Are you okay?” Marc was frowning deeply.
“No, but at least I’m not dying,” she answered unhappily. “What else do you need from me?”
“Mostly, to know how he’s going to be able to be in front of the camp, so I can get it ready.”
“With our help and good, old fashioned drugs,” Angela tried to joke. “I’ve got that much covered.”
“Why am I still in charge of the camp and not Kenn? Isn’t he the XO? Your new XO?”
Marc hadn’t meant to ask, but didn’t call it back.
“Because Kenn’s still in the QZ,” Angela hedged, not wanting to do this now. She couldn’t spare the time to convince Marc. She was still working on herself.
“Not true,” Marc protested quietly as they neared Doug, the guard on the shower. “He could have been cleared and out of here by now. Adrian didn’t want that. Why?”
Stalling, Angela looked at Doug and the arm she’d put in a cast and sling last night. “Are you sure you should be working already?”
“No.” Doug’s demeanor was one of grief. “Just couldn’t stay in there anymore.”
Angela understood completely. “I need some things, and I need some men to assist me for the next few days. Men I can trust and who can trust me in return. Is that possible?”
“Yes.” Doug’s tone was satisfied. “All of us.”
Doug’s gaze flicked to Marc briefly, and Angela gave her approval silently. With care.
The big man understood. “Adrian told us to follow you, not Kenn, if anything ever happened to him. He said for us to make Kenn fall in line behind you, where he belongs.”
Angela had suspected what Adrian was doing, but never that he’d taken it this far. “I didn’t know.”
“He didn’t see the need to upset everyone unless it was needed, but he was adamant that you would protect our lives better because–”
“Because of my gifts,” she tried to finish, a bit bitterly.
Doug frowned. “Because you value life the way he does. He even said…” Doug stopped, glance flicking to Marc again. He gave her the rest of it silently, knowing the wolfman wasn’t ready to hear it. He said in another life, you would have been given this duty first, not him, and that he would have been honored to follow you.
Marc studied them with a feeling of loneliness that he hated. Here it was, that only for the boss’s ears shit. The real boss, his mind whispered.
Marc walked away from them, drawing Angela’s attention. “Hey? Don’t you still need an answer on Kenn?”
Marc stopped. “I have it now, don’t I? I’m tending the herd until you’re caught up enough to handle both sides of the tape. Kenn’s not even in the picture anymore and no one knows it, not even him.”
Marc scowled deeper. “That’s why he set me up in the cage! Adrian needed them all to see that I’m hard enough for this place.”
“Yes.” Angela stiffened her shoulders, doing what she had to. “Say it, Marc.”
“I’m your XO.”
“Yes.”
Marc marched toward the big camp, slightly shocked at receiving the position without even expecting it. He was also furious at Adrian for giving him this gift when he held such a secret hatred for their blond leader. “Call me if you need anything, princess.”
Angela didn’t have time for his self-righteous anger. The weight that was settling onto her shoulders was far heavier than any she’d ever carried. She was in charge of Safe Haven. This was her camp.
Angela straightened her sore shoulders, stretching them out to balance the awful load. When she thought she could handle it, she met Doug’s gaze. “I will do everything I can to keep these people alive, and that includes Adrian. I don’t want his place.”
Doug already knew that. “You’re the Boss now.”
Behind Doug, the senior Eagles began stepping out of the shadows, showing their unity. Team leaders and their XOs appeared, giving her their support, their loyalty. Their thoughts rang in her heart, held her up under the weight of the role she’d been given.
He was right to choose you.
We trust you to guard his dreams.
Angela let a single tear trace her cheek. She’d come a long way from Cincinnati.
Angela found Neil waiting nearby. She knew what was coming and tried not to let it bother her that the camp was staring at them in small, nervous groups from the tape.
“Got a few things for you,” Neil said, holding them out.
Angela blew out a tired breath and started to tell him now wasn’t good for her, but he didn’t pause.
“You’ll wear this at all times and keep it by your head during sleep.”
Neil helped her put Adrian’s cleaned radio and belt on over the filthy clothes that she hadn’t taken the time to change yet, and then handed her a small cigarette box with a snap lid.
“This is an alarm. Open it for a smoke, and we know to come quietly.”
“I’ve had the course on protecting him,” Angela grunted, heart frozen with pain. “I know what’s it’s for.”
She shoved the alarm impatiently into her back pocket, adjusted the headset, and then keyed the mike. She let go just as fast. “What god-awful name did you guys pick?”
Neil’s lips twitched in the barest of smirks. “We stuck with his.”
Angela snorted without amusement. “Raven to Kyle. Have someone escort Conner to the medical tent.”
“Copy.”
She looked at Neil in annoyance. “Next?”
She reminded him so strongly of Marc on his second day in Safe Haven that he smiled despite the heaviness in his heart. “Questions. You provide the answers.”
Angela planted her feet firmly, as she’d seen Adrian do so many times, and found the stance almost comfortable.
“Hit me. I can take it now.”
End of Book 3
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