Tace counted in his head. Dizziness smashed him in the face. He dropped to one knee. His right arm shook and trembled, and his forehead went numb. That was fast.
“Tace!” Sami grabbed his vest and shoved him against the wall. “What’s wrong?”
He couldn’t see her. He blinked several times, and she slowly came into focus. “I’m okay.”
She leaned into his face and studied his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Bad headache.” Which was the absolute truth. His head felt like she’d kicked him right in the temple. Slowly, the strength returned to his arm. “We have to go in.”
She frowned and looked like she was going to argue.
“Now, Sami.”
She shoved him. “You guard the door. I’ll go in.”
“No.” In a surge of power, he stood, grabbed her arm, and shoved her behind him. Then he opened the door and went in high, knowing she’d go low. They were in a long corridor with career notices and schedules tacked to the length of the wall.
“Son of a bitch, get out here,” came a male bellow.
Tace paused. He didn’t recognize the voice.
“Come in and get me, asshole,” shouted another man. Damon. It was Damon, and his voice was low and in pain.
Tace ducked and ran through the corridor, stopped at a door, and turned to see what must’ve been the employee lunch area. A useless microwave sat on a counter next to a quiet fridge. The room was empty. He motioned for Sami and crept along the rest of the hallway to a slightly open metal door—an incredibly thick one.
He nudged it ajar with his toe. Sunlight cascaded in through the windows and illuminated the wide cashier’s counter, the square-shaped offices to the right, and the center area of the bank with its tables.
Two men dressed in black faced the center office, their guns pointed at a desk. One guy shot, and shards of wood from the desk popped into the air.
“Missed me, dickhead,” bellowed Damon.
Tace angled back to see Jax and Raze edge in the front door. Another two seconds, and they’d have the guys surrounded.
“Come out now, buddy. You’re outnumbered.” The shooter reached in his cargo pants and drew out a grenade. “I’m getting a little tired of playing with you.”
Sami sucked in air next to Tace.
“Then stop playing,” Tace said, his gun pointed at the guy’s head, irritation clawing through him that Sami had been scared. Yeah, that was nuts.
The guy swiveled to face him, pointing an assault rifle.
“Drop it,” Jax said, coming from the other side.
The second soldier put his back to his buddy’s and aimed at Jax.
“You boys are now the ones outnumbered,” Jax said easily. “Drop the guns, or we’ll drop you.”
A grunt echoed, and Damon Winter poked his head up from behind a desk. “It’s the fuckin’ cavalry.”
“Another missing g,” Sami muttered, shaking her head.
Tace moved in front of her.
She shoved him in the hip. “You have got to stop doing that.”
He couldn’t. “Guard the rear exit,” he ordered.
She hissed but did as he said, turning to aim toward the hallway. That was trust, whether she liked it or not. The woman was letting him protect her from two guys with guns and grenades.
“I’m getting bored here, boys,” Tace said, using his drawl. “How about I just shoot one of them?” he asked.
“Which one?” Jax responded.
The two guys in the middle didn’t flinch.
Tace cocked his head to the side and read the insignia across their left breasts. “E.L., huh? I’m thinking the president’s Elite Force got some new shirts. How nice to get new shirts during the apocalypse. Jax? How come we don’t get shirts?”
“We get tats,” Jax said easily, his gun trained center mass.
“Yeah. Tats are better than shirts.” Tace motioned for Damon. “You okay, Winter?”
Damon used both hands on the desk to pull himself up and then wobbled around the heavy maple to the door. “No. I got shot.”
He reached the doorway and went down.
“Shit,” Tace said, trying to see the impact wound. Damon was wearing a black shirt, so his entire chest might be bloody, and Tace wouldn’t be able to tell. “We gotta move, Jax.”
“All right. We only want one of you. Who dies?” Jax said pleasantly.
Then everything happened at once. Time slowed. “Alley is clear,” came a deep voice from behind Tace.
“Drop it,” Sami yelled.
Tace pivoted in time to see a guy in black take a shot. “Sami,” he yelled, leaping for her.
The bullet hit her center mass, throwing her head back and her body into Tace. He grabbed her with one arm and fired with the other, hitting the Elite soldier between the eyes. The guy flew back into the hall and bounced twice upon landing.
“Sami.” Tace set her down. “Sami?” She was out cold, and all color had deserted her face. He yanked open her shirt and tore the Velcro straps on her vest open. His heartbeat thundered through his ears, and his hands shook. “You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”
Two shots popped behind him, and he half turned, shielding her with his body.
“Fuck.” Jax grabbed his shoulder, and blood welled through his fingers.
One of the Elite guys was down and bleeding profusely. The other dropped his gun and put his hands in the air.
Tace turned back toward Sami and gently lifted the vest over her head. He ripped open her undershirt. “Okay. You’re okay.” The bullet hadn’t made it through, but her entire sternum was turning purple.
“She okay?” Raze called, pressing a hand over Jax’s on the bleeding wound.
Tace nodded, his throat choking. He cleared it. “Yeah. She’s bruised pretty bad, and she’s out cold, but the bullet didn’t tear into her.” The idea of a bullet ripping into her soft skin made his teeth clench. He felt along her sternum and down her ribs to make sure nothing was broken. Man, she was going to hurt when she came to.
He lifted her and carried her over to a table still holding pens and deposit slips. “How bad, Jax?”
“Dunno. Hurts like a bitch,” Jax said through clenched teeth.
Raze moved out of the way. “Damon? I’ll be right there.” He took zip ties from his back pocket, grabbed the Elite soldier’s arm, and kicked him behind the knee. The soldier went down and Raze secured his hands behind his back. “Stay.” Raze kicked the guy’s gun across the room and then turned to go for Damon.
Tace moved Jax’s hand and tugged the material away from the wound. He peered around to the other side. “Through and through. Doesn’t look like it hit anything important, but you’ll need stitches.” He tore off his shirt and tied it around Jax’s upper arm. “Keep pressure on it.”
“Copy that.” Jax moved into position to cover Sami, pain etching lines into his face. “Check on Damon.”
Tace hurried over to the fallen Merc soldier and bent down on one knee to do a quick survey. Blood covered Damon’s entire abdomen, and his shirt was dripping with it. “Ah, shit. He has a bullet to the gut, Jax. I need to do surgery.” Tace glanced around, his mind returning to the day they’d lost Wyatt, another soldier, from a gut wound.
Raze breathed out. “I’ll go get the truck. We’ll get home faster.”
Tace felt Damon’s pulse. “Hurry.”
Chapter Thirteen
This blue heart led me to Jax Mercury.
—Dr. Lynne Harmony, Notes on Scorpius
Lynne Harmony stretched her back in her lab and eyed the newest evidence she’d found that the Bunker existed. This was detailed lists of medicines sent there. Finally. She clapped her hands together once and stood to do a quick shimmy dance she’d made up on the spot. She could prove the place existed. Now all she had to do was track down the right file and find the damn place.
Her quick adrenaline rush ebbed from lack of sleep and carbs. Yawning, she poked her head outside t
o see Jax pacing the hallway like a caged animal outside of the trauma surgery room, accidentally bumping her hip on the doorknob. “Why don’t you come sit down?”
He scowled but did as she suggested. His broad body overwhelmed the plastic orange chair. “How’s the research?” he asked.
“I’m getting closer but don’t have a location yet. I will, though.” She let her excitement show for a moment and then ran her fingers over his battered knuckles.
A bandage covered his right arm, and he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt back on after being stitched up. His powerful torso beckoned her, but the blood across his jeans made her think twice. Tension still rode her hard at the thought that somebody had shot at Jax, but he seemed at ease with the entire situation. If she lost him, she’d lose everything that mattered in this new world. She’d lose her odd blue heart. “I think you should’ve waited for Tace to sew up the bullet hole.”
“Raze did fine. He’s got a good hand,” Jax said, poking at the bandage, his tension palpable. “He doesn’t swear as much, either.”
Lynne eyed his wide chest and ripped abs. It was hard to imagine sometimes that he was not only real but hers. The man owned her heart, without question. Maybe her soul, too. “Well, one more scar won’t detract from your rugged looks.”
He grinned, his honey-brown eyes sparkling. “Are you flirting with me, Dr. Harmony?”
“Maybe a little.” It was nice to see him smile. Jax had a killer smile, but he didn’t get the chance to use it often. “How is Sami?”
Jax frowned. “She’s hurting but will be fine.”
“Then why are you growling?” Lynne asked.
He licked his lips. “Tace won’t let her out of his sight. She’s on the bed in the examination room, just a few feet away from surgery.”
“Oh.” Lynne sat back, wondering how to diffuse the situation for Sami’s sake. The woman needed a chance at something good, and the men would screw that up. Lynne changed the subject. “How is surgery going?”
“Tace was swearing up a storm, and Raze was handing him instruments on cue. I guess it’s going okay,” Jax said.
Lynne pushed an empty water bottle out of the way. “I hope Damon survives.”
“Me too.” Jax scrubbed both hands down his face. “If anything happens to Damon, Greyson will declare war, and I’m not sure we’re ready for war on another front. We need to up the training of soldiers, so the last thing I have time to worry about is two of my lieutenants. Tace is definitely acting over the top right now. Kind of crazy, if you ask me.”
Back to Sami and Tace. Lynne had thought it could happen. There had been more than one time she’d caught Sami watching Tace when he didn’t realize it. Since they were now the topic, maybe Lynne could help them out a little. “About your lieutenants—that’s an interesting development. Is Tace acting so protective just because they’re partners on patrol?”
“Gut feeling? No. It’s more than that. But there’s something about Tace that’s setting me on edge.” Jax reached for her hand and flipped it over, smoothing the pad of his index finger over her love line.
Lynne’s abdomen jumped. Just from one little touch. “Is Tace being over-the-top possessive and protective?”
“Exactly.” Relief soothed out the lines on Jax’s face. “That’s the problem.”
Lynne couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose. If a medal existed for male over-the-top possessiveness and protectiveness, it would hold Jax Mercury’s name at the top in shiny gold letters.
“That’s different. You and I are different,” Jax said, his gaze roaming to her blue heart beneath her T-shirt. “We don’t go on patrol together, and even if you were a soldier, we wouldn’t be scouting partners. There’s a reason cops can’t date their partners and that soldiers can’t fraternize. It’s a good reason, and it keeps people alive.”
She chose not to argue the point of whether or not he’d be comfortable with her taking on Rippers, because she wasn’t trained and it would never happen. “So what’s the problem? If Sami and Tace are dating, then they can stop patrolling together.” If they’d found happiness with each other, it was a good thing for everybody.
Jax nodded. “Yeah, except they both lied to me earlier and said they weren’t fucking.”
“Maybe they aren’t,” Lynne said softly. “Maybe there are feelings between them and neither one of them knows how to deal with them. But if they said they weren’t, ah, you know, then I think you can believe they spoke the truth at the time.”
“Fucking.” He leaned in and tangled his hand in her hair, taking control of her head. “Say it, Harmony.”
Why did he always push her out of her comfort zone? “No,” she murmured against his lips.
He kissed her, deep and hard, driving her head back against his broad palm. Holding her in place, he explored her, tasting of bourbon and man. Finally, he let her breathe. “Say it, Blue.”
“Nope.” She nipped his lip, butterflies zinging from her breasts to her sex. “Maybe you can get me to say it later in our apartment.” As a dare, it lacked creativity but would probably still get the job done.
“It’s a date.” He released her and sat back, making the chair creak. “And now you’re going to have to use it in a sentence that sounds more like begging.”
She smiled, her body lighting on fire. “We’ll see who begs.”
“Yeah, we will.” His answering smile held a hint of warning.
She needed to get him back on point or they’d end up naked in her office. “I’m sure they didn’t lie to you.”
“The essence of lies is in deception, not in words.” At her raised eyebrows, he confirmed it was one of the many quotes he’d memorized while reading between military missions. “John Ruskin—art critic and philosopher.”
“Ah. I’d give them the benefit of the doubt anyway.”
He shrugged. “My other problem with Tace is that I’m not sure he’s okay with Sami going on patrol with anybody but him. It will turn into a battle between them, and I can’t have my top lieutenants fighting. Especially since the president’s Elite Force has now sent scouts into Vanguard territory.”
“They have?” Lynne asked, her voice catching. The president was making another move? God, she hated Bret Atherton. “That’s who attacked you guys?”
“Yes.” He drummed his fingers on the counter. “We took out two of them but have one guy downstairs in the boiler room.”
She paled and sat back, knocking some pencils to the floor. “You’re going to question him.”
“Yes.” He met her gaze without flinching, no expression on his hard face.
“We’ve talked about this,” she said, her hands fluttering on the table. “We’re trying to rebuild civilization, and we can’t do that by employing methods that were against the rules before.” Why wouldn’t he listen to her about this?
His gaze darkened. “If you think torture wasn’t employed before Scorpius, you’re way too naïve. Torture has always been used in times of war—in times of peace—against our enemies, like it or not. This guy has information we need to survive, and he’s going to tell me all of it.”
A shudder wound down her back. She’d arrived in Vanguard territory because she’d needed help, and she’d found love. The world was so much more dangerous than she’d ever imagined. Even so, she had to at least state a case for mercy. “That’s not who we are.”
He reached across the table and ran a knuckle along her jaw. “It’s not who you are, sweetheart, and I’m happy about that. But you need to know, it’s exactly who I am.” He pushed back from the table and strode toward the doorway. “I understand you think things will change and we’ll start this whole creation of a new civilization. But Lynne, it ain’t gonna happen in our lifetime. We’ll be fighting to survive the entire time.”
She coughed. “Do you mean that?”
He faced her. “Yeah. I like that you’re dreaming big, but the world is only changing for the worse for quite a while. I’ll protect you, but none of
it’s gonna be pretty.” He turned away. “And you’re in for the long haul. There’s no out.”
“I don’t want an out, Jax. No matter what,” she whispered at his broad back.
His body stood straighter, and he nodded. Then he disappeared around the corner.
* * *
Tace ran his hand through his wet hair, slicking it back. It was growing out again, and he should probably find somebody to cut it. Could Sami cut hair? Shit, he had to stop thinking about her. He tapped his belt buckle three times.
“Doc?” he asked, loping into Vinnie Wellington’s office at the rear of his clinic, not surprised to see the woman working well after midnight.
Vinnie looked up from a stack of papers on her small desk. Her blond hair was piled on her head, and her stunning eyes were clear and focused. Moonlight came in from the back doors, and she had a lantern glowing as well. “Tace. How is Damon Winter?”
“Good. Got the bullet out with minimal bleeding, and I think he’s going to be all right.” Tace had become more methodical during surgery, which had been advantageous in dealing with the gut wound. He’d performed surgery most of the morning, had double-checked everyone’s wounds, and then had assisted at the inner-territory hospital for hours. Now it was dark again, and he couldn’t remember if he had eaten or not.
Vinnie smiled. “Jax said you’d be popping by so I could profile Greyson Storm.” She stood and crossed to an area with a couple of chairs. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“Can’t sleep.” He dropped into a stuffed chair they’d found in a tea parlor on the southern end of Watts. It had been days since he’d slept.
“Ah. Scorpius symptom number three.” Vinnie crossed her legs beneath a pink pencil skirt.
Tace watched the movement and lifted an eyebrow.
She chuckled. “I met with a lot of patients today and thought I’d look the part of a real shrink.”
Tace nodded. The woman had been an FBI profiler before Scorpius descended and had the education to be a shrink. “It’s nice.”
She blushed. “Well, Raze found the skirt the other day on a mission.”