Add One More
1
Sam slowly led her men away from the tent. “Where are you guys due at?”
“Guard duty,” Neil answered, thinking of the coming chore. He wasn’t anticipating it.
“I have some rounds to make and people to talk to,” Jeremy stated. “Duty over Angela at noon.”
Samantha went toward the livestock pens. “I’ll be around for a while, listening. Call if you need me.”
Both men let their gazes roam her hair and body, but there wasn’t lust, only longing in their expressions.
“You two need a friend.”
They turned to find Kyle nearby, helping set up the extra medical tents that John requested. Jennifer had sent him out as soon as he’d gotten some rest, knowing it was where he wanted to be.
“You know what I mean,” Kyle continued, not giving either of them a chance to block the image he was about to thrust upon them. “Someone blonde and blue and completely forgettable to occupy your downtime. Once you have that, this situation eases and brain functions return.”
Jeremy wanted to ignore the words, but Neil, set to face one of his worst sins since the war, had to listen.
Kyle didn’t bother keeping his voice down. Changes were flying through Safe Haven, and Samantha and her triangle was merely a tiny corner of the controlled chaos. “She doesn’t expect you to be loyal unless she chooses one, and you’ll both know that moment–if it comes. I wouldn’t count on it.
“What the hell has this camp become?” Neil questioned harshly. “Nothing is like it was.”
“It’s not meant to be.” Angela appeared behind them, voice set. “We’re constantly changing and adapting. Nothing stays the same. That lesson held true long before the war that we survived.”
Angela went to where Samantha had stood so happily between them. “The limits of the old world were just that–limits. We don’t have them now. And we probably never should have.”
“You mean marriage and monogamy?” Jeremy asked curiously, aware of Kyle observing her in satisfaction.
“I think free will means making the choice based on what’s right for you, and that none of these differences are wrong. We’re supposed to be this way. Some are life mates, soulmates; some are one night stands or quick breeding moments that produce amazingly gifted offspring. None of us are right, and none of us are wrong.”
“Doesn’t feel that way,” Neil muttered.
Angela tried not to patronize. “And that’s your choice to make, but don’t base it on society’s rules. If you two can be okay with the setup, so can everyone else.”
Neither of them spoke and Angela filled in the silence with hard truth. “No, I can’t read that far ahead, and even if I could, I suspect you already know what’s there. It’s both or none for her, and that isn’t likely to change.”
Enjoying the few fireworks that were still being lit, Angela went to the medical tent, where Adrian and Conner were the only patients. Everyone else had been switched. The extra tent Kyle and his team were working on was for any new arrivals John wanted quarantined from the rest of them.
Kyle waved at Daryl to take over the tent stocking, and joined Neil and Jeremy as they started walking toward the main camp. “Remember who you are and all you’ve done for these people as they hassle you. That should be enjoyed with pride, gentlemen. You are going against the known and accepted in search of happiness and adventure beyond what any of them would ever have the sand to try.”
Neil and Jeremy both teased him about the wording, and Kyle let their friendship sink in and start healing his own wounds. They were finally working on the same goals again. Things would be easier on them, in some ways, so long as they had each other.
2
“What are you doing here?”
Neil paused at the hostile tone. “Seth didn’t tell you?”
Becky’s shadow left and she realized Neil was her protection on this shift. Her mouth opened, face reddening.
The trooper prepared to duck.
“I hate your guts. You know that, right?”
Neil went to take up Jeff’s post, feeling her glare. “Yeah.”
“He hasn’t forgiven you either.”
Meaning Seth. Neil’s control over his guilt slipped a bit. “I don’t need it from him.”
Becky accepted that reluctantly. Until now, Neil hadn’t shown any remorse, only left her alone. He was careful whenever they spent time around each other and that was it–like nothing had happened.
“Can I say it or would you rather I shut up and stood my post?”
He is trying to atone, Becky realized, and didn’t care one way or the other. “Say it if you want. It won’t change anything.”
Neil took the steps that brought him into range for what had to happen next. He slowly took off his hat, hard face cracking with misery.
“I’m sorry.”
Tears traced down her cheeks despite thinking she didn’t care, and Becky clenched her hands to keep from sobbing. She didn’t want to feel anything for him!
Neil was having trouble reading her through his own pain, and chose to give everything that she might need. “But only for what happened–for making you his target. I’m not sorry for wanting you.”
Neil braced for the coming blow. He’d arrived at a tolerable place with himself through all of it, but for that wall of guilt to lower, he had to follow through. “Or that sometimes, when I watch you bonding with Seth, I still do.”
Slap!
Neil didn’t react, willing her to keep going. It was the only way to give them both relief.
Becky started to cry heavily and Neil gave a final shove. “I’m also sorry I wasn’t your first. I used to dream about it.”
Becky understood that on some level this would help her, but the pain! She’d spent the last months in hell and part of it had been the used feeling–not from the rape, but from how easily Neil had changed his mind about her.
“I got pregnant from it, Neil. Angela and Anne took care of it a few weeks ago.”
Neil was instantly crushed. “What can I do? I...I can leave! I’ll be gone the second Adrian takes...”
“Stop it!” Becky drew in a calming breath as he stared in miserable shock. “I need you. Here.”
Neil smothered his own desperation to respond to hers. “Anything. Name it.”
Becky took another step into the new future that had been so brutally carved out for her. “At some point, I’m going to ask for what you denied me.”
Neil’s mouth dropped open as Becky jerked him into reality.
“I love Seth and he loves me, but I’m pretty clear on human nature now,” she stated harshly. “I’m always going to feel cheated, always going to wonder what might have been if Samantha hadn’t come to Safe Haven.”
Neil waited, not sure if he could refuse her or follow through. He had no spark for Becky now. Right?
“Forgiving and forgetting are things I can’t do yet, but I’ve hurt enough to know that being cheated festers inside.” She turned away. “At some point, I’m going to be recovered. To get there, you’ll have to help me.”
Neil forced himself to think around the guilty shock, amazed and dismayed by her new maturity. With that plan to follow, and Seth and her team to lean on, she could have more than a future as a camp relief source. It was horrible that so many of the former slaves were choosing that route, but Neil hoped more time in Safe Haven would help them understand they were worth more than that. With Becky, she’d been flirting along the moral lines long before Rick. Peggy had wanted her settled down, but Becky had wanted the danger and excitement of real life. She’d gotten it and then some.
Neil forced himself to speak. “Whatever you need, Becky.”
He saw her fists clench and expected anger. The fresh tears were a surprise.
“I need to hear that name and not want to die.”
Her shoulders shook and Neil reacted like the gentle-hearted man that he was. He took her arm and pulled her into his embrace.
“God, I’m so sorry!”
It was a heavy, hurtful moment for them both–one that might let hatred fade and forgiveness begin.
3
More than tired of the firecrackers and thumping music, Marc spotted Charlie lingering near the tent area and slowly made his way over. Getting through the partying camp members wasn’t easy. Too many of them wanted to offer congratulations and gratitude for looking after things while Adrian was gone, and for not being like Kenn. It was tiresome considering the day’s work, tiresome and annoying. It made his view distort and he suddenly saw them all as mad harpies sent to suck the life out of Adrian’s gifted people.
Marc realized that was how his demon saw them. Before he could question, he joined Charlie. He didn’t need to know, didn’t have to have any personal contact at all.
More of the silent treatment, huh? the demon commented sarcastically. Like that’s new.
Charlie glanced up curiously.
Marc immediately turned his attention. “Where’s Tracy?”
Charlie took instant offense. “Why? She in trouble?”
“Why? You gonna lie for her?”
Charlie hadn’t expected the abruptness, but he refused to lie. “If I had to, if she was in enough trouble.”
Marc raised a brow and the teenager flushed.
“Mom knows.”
“Good,” Marc stated, wondering how awkward that conversation had been. “Should I repeat the question?”
“She’s cleaning up Hilda’s mess. She got sick after lunch.”
Marc’s frown started growing and Charlie hurried to add, “Hilda’s the only one. We checked.”
Marc visibly relaxed, but Charlie caught the mental note to verify it and knew Marc would before the night was over.
“Are you okay waiting for her so openly?”
Charlie flushed.
Marc sighed. “Pushing limits while your mom’s busy. Smart and stupid, kid. You know that, right?”
“Yes, but…” Charlie’s voice was strained with the effort of holding in so many new emotions. The urge to take the trader’s life was something that stayed in Charlie’s mind, whispering, but he’d figured out that his obsession with Tracy was helping him control it. He had other highs to reach.
“I didn’t meet her earlier and I do it every day. When I don’t get to, I feel like...like I betrayed her somehow. She doesn’t feel that way, or at least she never acts like it, but I have to have this time with her. I have to at least have…”
Charlie snapped his mouth shut, but it was too late. He knew by the way Marc’s mouth tightened into a line.
Marc thought of the trip here, of being sure he’d never get Angie and desperate for even a single moment of glory to remember. And in that instant, there had only been one thing he wanted from her.
“A kiss,” Marc said it in a shocked, hushed whisper. “To determine if it’s magic–if she still…to tell if she’s the one.”
Charlie started to protest, but Tracy came from the tent then and he immediately went to help her dispose of the waste.
Marc stared, relieved when they went in separate directions.
Charlie’s step was light, grin large despite the ugly chore he was performing. Very few things could make a person happy while carrying a bucket of vomit, and it kept Marc’s gaze on him.
He’s up to something. Follow him, the demon ordered.
Reluctantly, Marc did.
4
Kenn ducked into the bathroom and sat down with a grunt. Li Sing’s food tasted great going in, but coming out sucked.
The port-o-let was hot and stinky, but Kenn preferred it to the crowded campers in the mornings and he’d made it a nightly ritual. After this, he would shower, check in with the violent new XO, and stay at Adrian’s side until dawn.
Footsteps crunched outside the stall comfortingly, people calmly passing, and Kenn finished up. He was anticipating serving Adrian while he recovered and enjoying any extra power he might achieve.
Kenn opened the door and went outside.
His foot tangled in something and he brought the other boot in front to keep from falling.
Barely saving himself, he took another step.
A sharp tug on his tangled foot sent him sprawling this time.
Kenn landed, hands down, in something wet and reekingly familiar.
Laughter exploded from the few witnesses and Kenn gritted his teeth as he shoved himself up.
He jerked his foot free of the jump rope and slung chunks of vomit from his hands.
An accident, he decided, picking out the rope and no one around except the guards. Some kid dropped his toy as he threw up the day’s breakfast.
Kenn turned for the showers, face a furious red. He was almost to them when he remembered that sharp tug.
He turned to glower, but there were only a few Eagles in sight and none of them was looking at him now.
“An accident,” he muttered, jerking the door open. “A clever one.”
Marc came from the shadows, nodding at the Eagles who’d witnessed it all. Instantly feeling better, he was still chuckling as he motioned Zack to have his boys clean up the mess. Some justice was being dispensed.
Marc noticed Becky and Neil in deep conversation outside her tent and filed it. He swept the shadows for Seth and didn’t spot any of the cop’s team. Where were they?
Marc finished his rounds of the main camp and went to the QZ. He avoided the medical area, instead, finding Kevin.
“Things okay?” he asked, joining the man as he stood duty over the farthest QZ perimeter.
Kevin sighed. “Out here, sure. In there…”
Marc could feel the tension. “Anything new happen?”
“Just a quick fight between Jax and Paul. Probably over Leslie. Angela has them working under supervision. They were on duty.”
Marc wasn’t surprised. He also wouldn’t be when Leslie chose to follow Samantha’s example and claimed them both.
“What else do you have for her tonight?”
“Nothing after the meeting,” Kevin answered. “Kyle said she’ll be beat, to send her to your bed.”
Marc approved. “All posts covered?”
“Yes, and we’ll have extras until word comes from John.”
“Good. Who did they tell you to call if something happens overnight?”
Kevin gave him a pointed look. “You, but only if I had to.”
“That works.” Marc started to go to the next post, and turned around. “Did she send Seth out?”
“Yes. He and his team are shadowing the surviving women, making sure they aren’t going to return later.”
Marc wondered what Angela had told them to do if the snake women chose to return.
Kill them all, of course, the demon supplied. She knew the Eagles would follow your choice.
Marc left before he could confirm that. He didn’t want to view her or himself that way.
5
“Are you happy now?”
Samantha smiled at the question, stepping aside so that Marc could join her in the tent. She hadn’t heard him tap, but was sure that he had.
“More than I ever thought was possible.”
“And your men?”
Samantha winced. “They’re…adjusting.”
Marc had questions, but the one he needed answered, he refused to let through his lips.
Samantha gave him a quick weather report, hoping he would let it go. Marc was the one person here that it bothered her to lie to, and if he asked the right questions, things could get tense.
“So just rain?”
“Yes. It looks to clear out in a couple days.”
“Good.”
Marc didn’t leave, instead observing as she resumed her casual pacing and listening. Samantha had a deluxe tent filled with boxes of weather equipment at her disposal, but Marc knew the report had come from her mind.
“Can you talk to nature, Sam?” he asked quietly, in awe at the thought. “Communicate, I mean.”
She gave a short confirmation. “I won’t, not without something to offer.”
“Adrian already asked that,” Marc guessed.
“No,” Samantha corrected. “He already knew. I suggested barter when we ran from the fire.”
“And he told you to what? Find out what we need to make a deal like that?”
“He told me it made us a bigger target to even try. It can’t be done without our compete surrender.”
“Surrender?” Marc asked in confusion.
“Our extinction, boy scout.”
Marc flinched at the common name. He wasn’t that, not anymore.
“You can understand why I won’t try?”
Marc grunted, heading for the flap. “Mind your protection or Seth will double it.”
Sam stuck out her tongue at his back and then grinned at herself. She didn’t plan to be isolated tonight. In fact, just the opposite.
6
“Blonde and blue and completely forgettable.”
Jeremy hated the words still ringing in his mind, but that didn’t stop him from trying to spot a viable candidate as he walked through the camp.
Too tall…too thin…too much perfume. Doesn’t talk enough…hates men.
Jeremy’s gaze landed on the Sisters. The six-woman group had gained three new members, and the shortest among them had Samantha’s exact shade of hair. It twinkled in the light of the center campfire.
Jeremy reluctantly drifted closer.
The women were practicing their gun stance and didn’t notice when he joined the rear of the lesson. He studied the short blonde, comparing her weight, shape, and general rear profile.
That could work, he thought.
Bridget felt him staring and peered over her shoulder.
Jeremy studied her features gently and realized she fit Kyle’s words. She was pleasant to inspect and nothing else–completely forgettable.
Jeremy smiled at her before he could stop himself. And then he turned away. If it got to be too much, he’d find her. That heart shaped ass under those cut-off jeans would be kept track of by the single Eagles, but for Jeremy, it was just a way to know her–a marker in place of the name he didn’t have yet. Her face, he couldn’t have recalled before he was out of sight.
As Jeremy vanished into the parking area, Leslie got the attention of everyone in earshot with a quick warning.
“If he comes to you, it will only be for relief. He loves Samantha.”
Bridget went up to the line to take her turn. “I’m not interested in him.”
Leslie gave her a dirty glare at the obvious lie. “Like that matters.”
“We always offer support to the Eagles when they pick one of us,” Tracy explained, tone friendlier than Leslie’s had been. “It’s an honor to serve.”
Bridget finished her set and rejoined the small circle. “Jeremy isn’t the only one who will like me because I look like her.”
She stared at Becky’s tent, where Lee and Neil were now chatting lightly. “When that one comes to me, I’ll make him fall in love and then Jeremy can have Sam. It’ll be perfect,” Bridget stated, missing the frowns of all the other females.
Samantha overheard the remark as she walked by and the words sank down into her gut. Wasn’t that how it should be? Neil certainly deserved happiness, as did Jeremy. It was herself that she wasn’t so sure about.
Samantha ducked quietly into the tent shadows and circled around to listen to Leslie’s rueful response.
“Good luck, then. When she came, it was like the rest of us no longer existed.”
Bridget wasn’t discouraged. “You ladies didn’t have the advantage that I do.”
“What advantage?” Megan demanded. “I have the same features.”
Bridget glanced over in a patronizing insult. “Obviously not, honey, or he would have been staring at you.”
Samantha tensed. This one was mean.
“So what’s the advantage?” Leslie insisted, not sure if she wanted Bridget’s plan to work out that way. Leslie had many male friends in Safe Haven and while she’d like to narrow the field a bit, having to pick only one had kept her from doing it. If she could have two…
Bridget flipped her hair over her shoulder so that it would catch the light. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourselves. We aren’t friends yet.”
Samantha resumed her walk, but didn’t relax. Bridget was probably counting on being able to play on Neil’s emotions, but what if she was like the other gifted people here and hiding it as Jennifer now was?
Trailing him, Samantha noted that Jeremy hesitated and then went to his truck. He sat on the tailgate, staring at the place where they’d napped earlier. He appeared forsaken.
Jeremy’s the one I might lose, Samantha told herself. Their bond wasn’t nearly as strong.
Samantha felt the chill of old loneliness coming and resisted being pulled into the darkness.
Not yet, she thought, moving toward Jeremy. Let me have a little more happiness, okay? Just a little.
Jeremy felt her coming and found himself comparing her to the other blonde, but his heart pounded too hard to be able to concentrate.
Nothing less will satisfy, he realized. Heart ass could go back on the market.
“Can I join you?”
Jeremy found the air to speak with. “You don’t have to ask.”
Samantha sent out a wave of happiness, stealing his breath. “I know.” She glanced at the truck bed. “A blanket this time?”
Jeremy immediately got up and retrieved his bedroll from the front, sensing she wasn’t ready for the offer of his tent that he longed to make.
Samantha helped him, enjoying the brush of his hands and body as they worked together. They resumed their previous positions with a small intake of air, a rough groan, and lay there in silent contentment.
As they began to drift, Jeremy again dropped his walls and tried to stay close to her light.
7
“She’s ready.”
“Copy.”
Marc went to the medical tent, where Angela had gone after the meeting. He’d expected that, but not for her to hold out another three hours. Where was she pulling the strength? She’d still been beat after drawing from him. He, on the other hand, felt wiped out.
You need to feed her more, the demon advised. She’s doing more now, caring for more.
Marc didn’t like the phrasing after the morning’s sexual concerns, but he didn’t respond. If he started talking with the demon, he might get used to using it, to having it there, and that would be dangerous.
You could bow out, the demon replied sweetly. Adrian will give her what she needs.
Marc stomped into the medical tent, furious, but it was gone the second he spotted Angela. It appeared that she’d fallen out of alertness gradually, and was now slumped uncomfortably over Adrian’s arm.
Marc approached them silently, but Adrian’s eyes flew open the instant he got close. Unable to do much more than yell, that instinct to protect her was still strong.
The two men stared at each other for a long moment, both wondering if this would become a habit for them–sharing her.
“I hope not,” Adrian stated finally, voice a hoarse croak that didn’t get even a stir from the tired woman they were both so bonded to. “That would hurt her.”
Marc agreed, jaw clamped tight to keep from telling Adrian that he should have died and then there wouldn’t be any chance of it.
“It’s what I wanted.”
Marc took that in coldly. “And now?”
Adrian wound his fingers, all he was capable of moving, through her tangled curls. He gave a gentle tug and then let go. “It hasn’t changed. She should have let me die.”
“It’s worse now,” Marc guessed, remembering his own strengthened longings after Angie had healed him. “Like you can’t breathe and she’s the air.”
“I’ve never been on this end of it,” Adrian confessed. “I’m fighting.”
Marc knew that, but it didn’t appear to matter. He ignored the urge to curse Adrian, and carefully lifted Angela into his arms.
Angry and stressed, it still would have been impossible to miss the naked fear in Adrian’s eyes as he observed.
Marc hated himself for feeling compassion and kept his mouth shut until they were out in the cool night air.
Marc gestured to Kevin, who appeared as beat as the woman snuggling into his embrace. “Adrian needs company.”
Kevin sighed. “I’ll get Tracy to sit with him.”
Marc thought of Charlie. “Make that Cynthia.”
Adrian’s chosen females were all quickly becoming off limits.
Kevin wanted to argue, but couldn’t. If Marc was sharing Angie with the boss man, how could he protest?
“She wants to be there for him,” Marc stated. “Go get her.”
Kevin went slowly, jealously, even though Adrian was clearly in no shape to do anything. He just…
“I want her time for myself,” he grumbled. “And that’s wrong. I have to let her work.”
Kevin vanished into the darkness and Marc continued to the center QZ tent without guilt. He was sure that Cynthia could use a break from fending off Matt, who wanted to cement their relationship physically.
Marc smirked, sliding Angie into the open bedroll. Yeah, he definitely had the better end of that stick.
8
“Stay on your side!”
Kevin stopped, stunned for a minute by the shadows. Matt and Cynthia were sharing a bed!
“I mean it. You touch me again and I’ll cut those fingers off.”
Kevin listened to Matt’s cackle and was dismayed by how much it resembled Rick’s.
“No, Matt, I don’t.”
Kevin couldn’t hear Matt’s words and he hugged the thick shadows around the canvas.
“I’d like you more if you had respect for me and for the dream.”
“I do,” Matt was protesting. “I just don’t understand why you took me in.”
Cynthia sighed deeply, and Kevin felt an honest answer coming–something he hadn’t gotten.
“They would have banished you, Matt. Maybe worse. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“And now you wish you had,” Matt accused, shadow turning to glare at her.
“No, I made the right choice. In time, you’ll be trusted again and have a real life here.”
Matt snorted scornfully and Kevin found himself agreeing. As he watched a shadow finger creep onto the other side of the mattress, it was hard not to. Matt was a bad kid and it would only get worse.
Kevin came from the shadows, boots crunching carelessly.
The shadow hand drew back and Cynthia sat up, listening.
Kevin tapped on the flap. “The big boss needs you.”
“Be right there,” Cynthia called.
Both males heard the breathless tone.
Kevin smirked when Matt shifted roughly on the air mattress, nearly flipping Cynthia off it. The boy didn’t like him or Adrian. The feeling was mutual.
Kevin was still lingering when the reporter stepped out of the tent. He caught Matt’s resentful glare through the open flap.
Not one to be subtle in the old world, Kevin held his arm out to Cynthia like a gentleman would have.
Annoyed and sleepy, Cynthia slid her arm into Kevin’s and left Matt staring at them both hatefully. She wasn’t cut out for babysitting unless she got rest and Octo-boy liked to watch the sun come up.
“Another week,” she muttered, unconsciously leaning into Kevin’s welcoming heat. “Then I’ll tell her.”
Kevin understood, but didn’t get his hopes up. If he and Cyn were supposed to be a match, Angela and Adrian wouldn’t have tossed Matt into their mix.
9
Marc settled Angela onto his bedroll, smoothing her clothes and hair into more comfortable positions. As he laid the long braid across his pillow, the gray glared like a sign.
There’s more, he realized. A lot more.
She performs minor miracles daily, the demon stated, tone slightly admiring. Tonight, she brought a man back from the dead. Did you think there wouldn’t be a price?
Marc’s mouth stayed closed, but in his heart, he knew it was only a matter of time before he began talking with the ghost inside. The demon had information that he needed.
Angela stirred briefly, arching a bit. “Unbutton me, will ya?”
Marc eagerly slid both big hands around her waist and up to her bra. He rubbed as the hook sprang free, but she was already asleep.
Marc covered her up and sat on his side, thinking. In a bit, he would clean his guns and maybe run over for a hot shower. Right now, he had to decide if it was worth the trade to have the demon in his life. He had many doubts about being able to hide it once he made that choice.
“Marc…”
Angie’s call was sweet, comforting. The demon faded to allow Marc this moment alone.
Once in the rear halls, the demon chose the door with the information scrolls. He couldn’t go far, only as much as Marc’s impenetrable cell would allow, but the words had always been in reach.
Bitter over his imprisonment, the demon had spent decades learning from the inherited data stores. When his chance came, the demon planned to know what to do with it. If he were useful, he wouldn’t be locked up again. Marc was cruel enough to keep him in here forever, but not if there was something to deal with, and the demon went straight to the section on recovery.
Marc settled down next to Angela’s warm body with a shudder of perfection. Her legs tangled with his, body melting against his hip, and the feeling of rightness increased. Even innocent contact between them created a feeling of seclusion that Marc wanted to drown in. He drifted off thinking of the trip here, when it had been just them against the world.
Angela, drained and hungry, let the witch out to roam as she felt herself falling into a deeper sleep.
May I take from where I want?
Angela agreed sleepily. Just leave Adrian alone for a bit.
The witch laughed softly and vanished.
Marc’s arms tightened unconsciously and Angela let the darkness claim her, securely locked in Marc’s dreams.
The witch didn’t go far, only to the information banks. There was someone she’d never been able to reach until now, not fully. She’d wanted to for decades, but hadn’t been able to get Angela’s permission to roam. That was the only way to open the door between demons. The ancients had needed to be sure that the demons could never betray their hosts.
As she slid silently into the dimly lit library, Marc’s demon froze, stunned at the sight of her. He’d never viewed his own kind before.
The witch cackled, gliding toward the far wall. She paused in front of a door that the demon had never been able to open.
The witch pushed the door gently and it slid a crack, revealing a blue light.
The demon behind her gasped. And came closer.
The witch wasn’t ready to go further with her newest access point, at least not alone, and she turned slowly. Orbs glowing deep crimson, she appraised Marc’s magical center ruthlessly.
The demon felt her evaluation and held still under the promise of adventure he read in the charged atmosphere. The attraction he’d expected if they ever met was there, as well as a raw sense of dangerous power, but the lure of a friendship was what made him agree.
“I bind myself to you for…” he paused, questioningly.
“One day. They can manage that long,” the witch filled in.
“I bind myself to you for one full day,” the demon repeated gruffly. The sound of her voice was pure power–the kind he would never provoke.
The witch held out a hand, observing him closely, and the demon snatched her up against his chest in a tight, hungry grip. “Let’s go.”
The witch cackled again, turning a bit to reach the door. They vanished into the unknown with Marc’s demon swelling in happiness.
His light, as it grew, was bright gold.
10
“Home...”
Kendle rolled over, her sleep restless. She bumped into the sharp, cold corner of the seat and jerked awake.
They were home.
Except, it wasn’t, not anymore. Somehow, while she wasn’t looking, Pitcairn had become her home.
The sound of the engines coming pulled her into alertness and sent a hopeful fear into her heart. People!
“Luke!” she whispered urgently, a bit surprised that he hadn’t stirred.
She looked over to find him huddled against their backpacks. Even in the darkness, she could see his skin had a sheen of sweat. He was worse. Shit!
Kendle pulled the gun from her belt and slowly inched over to the window.
“Please be good guys. Please be good guys...”
All she could see was headlights, at least ten of them. Five trucks circled the plane as if they knew she and LJ were in here. Shit!
Kendle sank down, racing for a solution.
“Come on out of there.”
Make a deal!
Kendle slowly stood up, hoping she had the courage to get them through this alive, longing to see a group of uniformed authority to help her.
The sky was just beginning to lighten as she climbed down, the wind chilly and the sky ominous.
The vehicles turned their lights off all at once, throwing her into darkness.
Kendle stopped at the bottom of the short stairs, gun in hand.
“Two of us are coming over. Don’t shoot.”
The fact that the voice was female went a long way in calming Kendle’s fears. “I won’t.”
Gravel crunched as the vague shadows got closer. Kendle was able to make out hands holding lanterns that hadn’t been lit and guns on hips.
Kendle stared at the wild women, eyes adjusting enough to show her men’s clothing and weapons, and a hardness she’d never seen in American women before.
“You fly in?”
Kendle nodded stupidly, staring as a lantern was lit.
Carol motioned toward the train. “Guess you’ve figured out what happened.”
Kendle forced herself to confirm it. “The whole country?”
Marsha grunted, eyeing the plane. “Yep. We finally did what everyone joked about.”
“A few times over,” Carol muttered, studying Kendle. “What ya got in the plane that you felt the need to defend?”
Kendle reacted the way she’d been scarred. Fight or die. “My man. Why? You thinking about taking him?”
Both women blinked at the hostile tone.
Carol held the lantern up, studying Kendle and her scars. “Where you from, Hard-ass?”
Kendle slid the gun into her belt. “Maybe that’s information I don’t care to part with.”
Marsha glowered. “If we wanted your man, we’d take him.”
Kendle took a step forward and growled.
It wasn’t a warning sound or even anger. It was a victim in the corner about to spill blood in an attempt for freedom. The two caravan leaders knew the noise well. They both took a step back. This wasn’t the easy prey they’d hoped for upon seeing a slender shadow through the plane window.
Kendle took a deep breath, pushing back the need to kill. “You should go now.”
Carol opened her mouth, maybe to offer a little encouragement.
“Kendle?”
Marsha and Carol both took another quick step back.
“He doesn’t sound good.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
Kendle was torn–clearly they could be trouble–but she had no idea what to do to help Luke.
“I’m not sure,” she said finally, shoulders slumping. “He was fine when we landed.”
Marsha and Carol exchanged a glance. In it, they asked if they wanted to take the chance on helping a stranger. In this new world, that wasn’t a good idea.
“What ya got to trade for medicine?”
Kendle thought fast. Not the gun, food, or water. “Blankets, a couple packs of batteries, box of candle...”
“What about the plane?” Carol asked, eyeing the metal. It wasn’t rusting like everything they found now and it would make a good material for increasing the strength of their caravan.
Kendle slowly nodded. “I’ll get our gear out. No gas in it, though. We coasted in on fumes.”
Marsha had been thinking about a plane all along. This land was dead. Staying was another bad idea, but those leading their little group had outvoted her. “Stand aside and we’ll check him over.”
Kendle moved reluctantly, praying she wasn’t making a mistake.
The two big women climbed inside, eyeing the gear and the well-built man shaking on the floor.
“Feverish, rapid pulse,” Marsha observed, kneeling down.
Carol nodded, doing the same. “No puke or shit, though–not a virus.”
She looked over to where Kendle was standing tensely in the narrow doorway. “How long you guys been here?”
Kendle added. “A week or so.”
“Land sickness?” Marsha asked.
Carol shrugged. “Could be. He’s strong, still.”
Marsha glanced at Kendle, able to see more of the bite marks as the sun rose. “He do that to you?”
Kendle shook her head, trying not to shudder. “No.”
“The person dead now?”
Kendle grinned, answer enough.
“We’ll give him a dose of antibiotics and give you the bottle. See that he takes three of the capsules every day and don’t hide any back for the next time. If he has an infection and you don’t give him all the meds, there won’t be a next time.
Luke struggled beneath the rough hands, hearing voices, but unable to make out the words. He’d never gotten sick so fast. He opened his eyes to see Kendle leaning over him in concern.
“Let the medicine work. You’ll feel better.”
Luke didn’t argue. He was too tired from listening to that ticking clock in his head again.
Kendle stayed by his side as the caravan set up a tight camp around the plane and began to settle down for a few hours of sleep. As soon as Luke could be moved, she would load him into the small jeep she’d bartered for their remaining fruit–the sight of which had sent the group of all women into fits of drooling and shouted bids. The currency of the world had changed.