Storm Gathering

  Grey let himself smile in warning. Lake was obviously trying to goad him. So he turned to Atherton as if Lake didn't exist. “A president, the president, shouldn't kidnap women,” Grey said, his chest heating again.

  “Neither should a commander in the Navy,” Atherton shot back. “Dangerous times and all of that.”

  There was enough truth in the statement that Greyson's gut churned. “Do you know where the other Bunkers are?” He asked.

  Atherton nodded. “I know of two others besides yours, and we're using those to find more.”

  “Where are they?” Damon asked.

  Atherton just smiled.

  Greyson breathed in. “What are their specialties?”

  Atherton cocked his head to the side. “One specializes in predictions and what could go wrong in the next five, ten, twenty, and a hundred years after a pandemic like Scorpius, as well as medical research. The other holds…weapons and fuel. So much.”

  God, Greyson wanted his hands on those. No matter whom he aligned with, he needed more weapons, and fuel would be a boon. “I see.” He stood, prepared to go for his weapon. “I'll discuss your offer with my men. I don't see why you have to take out Vanguard. They provide needed services for wounded folks.”

  The president rested his hands on his pressed pants. How the hell were his pants pressed? “I understand. I'd be willing to negotiate for a mere change of leadership at Vanguard.”

  Greyson's chin lifted. The guy really had a hard-on for Jax Mercury and his lieutenants, didn't he? “We'll be in touch.”

  “You have a week.” The president didn't move, seeming more than relaxed on his chair.

  Lake rested his hand on the grip of his gun. “You tell Maureen Shadow I'm looking forward to seeing her again.”

  Grey smiled, his gaze narrowing on the bastard. “Not sure about the right blade to take you out, but I have a few bullets that could easily find the right path.” He kept his gaze on Lake, keeping him in his sights as he made his way to the exit.

  Atherton waited until Grey had reached the outside door before speaking again. “I guess I have one more carrot to dangle.”

  Grey stiffened but kept his expression clear. “Which would be?”

  The smile Atherton used this time was all charm. “You align with me, and I'll tell you exactly where Zach Barter is right this second.”

  Grey's lids half lowered. “Why would I care about Zach Barter?”

  “Please, Commander Storm. You've had scouts looking for the psychopath for months. With pictures, no less.” Atherton leaned forward, his gaze intense. “I give you my word that he's alive, quite enjoying his life, and totally unaware that you're looking for him.”

  Fine. It wasn't like he had hidden his goals. But the topic was now on the table. Greyson looked at VP Lake again. “Did you release Zach Barter from the Scorpius Containment Facility four months ago?”

  Atherton sighed. “We're getting off topic.”

  Grey ignored the president. “Lake? Did you?”

  The vice president cocked his head to the side. “Yes.” No remorse, no emotion, no…anything.

  Heat brushed through Greyson, and he banished the burn. “Why? Why would you do that?”

  “He's brilliant, and we needed help with Scorpius.” Lake picked invisible lint off his jeans. “That's all you get to know right now.”

  Greyson turned for the door, his blood heating.

  “Do what I ask, adhere to your oath, and I'll give Zach Barter to you on a platter,” Atherton said as a parting shot.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The protection of what meager resources we have left has to be a priority. Enough with the shooting and killing. We need food, damn it.

  —Maureen Shadow, Notes

  The upstairs computer room was quiet and a little dusty. Maureen's eyes were gritty, and her temples ached, but she kept sifting through data. She hadn't found anything on the Scorpius bacterium and pregnancies. That info was probably in one of the labs a couple of stories down, and Greyson hadn't granted her access yet. A very polite but unrelenting guard had informed her of that fact hours ago.

  So she'd turned to doing what she did best. Finding food for the foodless. There had to be plans somewhere for rebuilding after a pandemic that only took out humans, but there was a chance the research was at a different Bunker.

  But there should be some information here.

  She pulled out a map of the nuclear reactor sites in the United States, and another one with a series of dams. There were so many dams and a surprising lack of nuclear energy in the West. Oh, there were three main reactors to worry about, but the dams were definitely a concern because someday they'd fail. Without people to maintain them, nature would retake her land. Moe was already familiar with crop growth in California, so she bypassed that file.

  Hours passed, and soon her head began to nod. Maybe she should get some sleep.

  “What the fuck are you doing up?” Greyson snapped from the doorway.

  She jumped, scattering papers. “Working.” Her voice slurred a little and she cleared her throat. “Just like you were. How did your meeting go, and where were you?” Yeah, she sounded a little demanding.

  Greyson's chin lowered in an oddly threatening way. “Did I, or did I not, tell you to get some fucking sleep?”

  “I'm not sure you used the f-word,” she countered, her temper rising. She pushed to her feet, only stumbling a little. More papers fell off her lap. “We don't have the luxury of sleep right now, and you know it.”

  “Oh, baby.” His voice rumbled low with barely restrained temper and a whole lot of threat. He still had a gun strapped to his thigh, making him look like some deadly SWAT guy. “You do not want to push me right now.”

  “Why not, Greyson?” she challenged, sauntering toward the door. She was pregnant with his child, and while that seemed to be freaking him out a little, it made her the safest person in the entire facility, at least physically. He might be a scary guy, but she wasn't buying it. Or maybe she was just too tired to care. “I'm not feeling all that vulnerable right now.”

  “Then you're not as smart as advertised.” Barely moving, he somehow secured her arms and lifted her off her feet, cradling her against his impossibly broad chest.

  “Hey,” she protested, slapping her hands against solid muscle.

  “Hey, nothing,” he muttered, tucking her close and stomping from the room. “You're not getting me, and we have to change that.”

  “Eh.” Her eyelids drooped again, and she had to pull every ounce of stubbornness around her to keep from snuggling into him. “You can't just go around giving everyone orders all the time.”

  “That's kind of my job, darlin',” he said, his breath brushing her hair with warmth. He tightened his hold, all but forcing her to relax against him as he jogged down the stairs to the main hallway below. “If you weren't knocked up, I'd make sure you couldn't sit down comfortably for the next two weeks.”

  She snorted. Yeah, right. “That's quite a threat.” Considering she was pregnant, she couldn't drum up the energy to worry about it.

  “Something for future consideration.” He loped easily down the long hallway, not hampered by her weight a bit. “For now, you seem to be forgetting I control the Bunker, Merc territory, and you. The doors here lock on the outside just as well as the ones back at the beach.”

  Her? Oh, no way. Nobody controlled her, not even somebody as dangerous as he. Locking her inside would only serve to tick her off. “It's truly a shame that I have work to do. Work you need,” she said flippantly.

  He opened the door to her quarters and walked inside, depositing her gently on the bed. “I'm not messing around, Moe. Knock it off.”

  She studied him. Stress cut lines on each side of his mouth, his eyes had gone gray-dark, and tension all but rippled off him. “Where did you go in the middle of the night, and just who did you meet with?” she asked again, her adrenaline finally starting to pump.

  He lifted his head, l
ooking down at her through heavy lids. “I went to Lancaster of all places, and I met with the president.”

  She blinked. Once and then twice. That was impossible. “You. Did. What?”

  “These are difficult times. I'm just weighing my options.”

  His options. His fucking options. Betrayal chilled down her spine. She jumped to her feet, scattering pillows. How could he? “That maniac kidnapped me less than a month ago.”

  “So did I,” Greyson said reasonably.

  Her mouth opened and then snapped shut. She shook her head. The burst of her temper served to awaken her. “Grey. You don't get it. He's nuts. Nuttier than nuts. Wanted to kill either Viv or me and mate the other. You can't trust him.”

  “Oh, I don't trust him. Not a bit,” Greyson said, eyeing the bed. “Now you need to go to sleep.”

  She held up her hands to ward him off. He could not be serious. This was crazy. He had to listen to her. “We're not done talking about this. If you align with the president, then you can't work with Vanguard.”

  Grey didn't speak. Just watched her.

  Realization slithered through her, colder than a block of ice. She actually shivered. “Oh. You're willing to help the president take out Vanguard. To attack when they're down.” How could he even think of doing something like that? She backed away. Here she'd thought she could trust him. Could count on him. “Who are you?”

  He sighed. “I haven't made a decision and just wanted to see all my options. Plus, I wanted to meet the president. Get a feel for him.”

  A feel for him? “He's Freddy Krueger with an army,” she spat. Well. At least her questions were answered. “When Vanguard gets here, I'm leaving with them.” Her chin lifted. “You attack them, and I'll be there fighting alongside them.”

  His face gentled. “Ah, sweetheart. That just ain't gonna happen.”

  Fire swept through her, shocking in its intensity. She snapped wide-awake this time and all but propelled herself right at him. “You can't stop me.”

  “I already have.” A warning glinted in his eyes.

  She couldn't help it. Nobody bossed her around. Especially a two-faced jerk who'd met with the nutso president. Greyson needed to learn she wasn't to be messed with. Ever. She kicked up, aiming right for his jaw.

  This time he was ready for her. He sidestepped, moved back in, grabbed her calf and lifted, tossing her almost gently back onto the bed. Before she could take a breath, he was on her, holding her down.

  She fought him, struggling, but he held her tightly yet gently, not even bruising her. Not even breathing heavily or even bunching a muscle. Finally, she surrendered, planning all the most painful ways she could kill him with enough time and preparation.

  “You done?” he asked, his mouth above hers.

  “Not even close,” she sputtered.

  He smiled, some of the tension leaving his jaw as he settled more solidly against her.

  Desire mixed with the anger inside her, making her body want and her mind rebel. “Get off me.”

  “I'd rather say what I have to say without getting kicked in the face.” He grasped her wrists and gently tugged them above her head, easily securing them with one hand.

  The movement pushed her breasts against his chest, and her nipples hardened. A pulse set up between her legs. How could she be this angry and so turned on at the same time? “You deserve a kick,” she muttered.

  The color of his eyes darkened to that of an oncoming storm, the warning clear. Deep and dark gray, heavy with intent. He lowered his face to within an inch of hers. “You're with me. Whatever I decide to do, you're on this side of the line. I'll give your brother an out if I take a route against Vanguard, but you're not going anywhere. You're safer here, and that's where you'll stay,” he said, his tone rough.

  Her mouth opened. Fury tensed her muscles, but she couldn't fight him physically. “I might have to kill you.”

  His lips twitched, but he wasn't dumb enough to smile at her. “You just might. But to make sure I've said this in the simplest terms, you're mine. I'm keeping you.”

  His? “I make my own choices, Greyson.” She couldn't help but struggle a little, not surprised in the slightest when she didn't dislodge him. It would be helpful if her body worked with her instead of against her. The more she moved, the more her clit brushed against his erection. Heat flowed into her face and sparked electricity into her every nerve. “You can't have me,” she whispered.

  His chin lifted, giving him an arrogant look that appeared natural on him. “Don't challenge me, baby. Fair warning.”

  Before she could do just that, somebody knocked on the door.

  Grey just sighed. “What?” he muttered. “What fucking now?”

  “Vanguard is here a few hours early,” Damon yelled back. “Right out front with what looks like a rocket launcher.”

  Greyson growled and stood in one fluid motion, putting her on her feet. “Don't you people ever follow directions?”

  Moe blinked. “No.”

  “Get some sleep. You can meet with your brother at a decent hour like I had planned.” He dropped a possessive kiss on her mouth before turning and quickly leaving, muttering about the fucking Shadow family.

  Her knees weak, she sat for a moment to gather her strength. Then she planned to go see her brother. This disaster had to be stopped.

  Somehow.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sometimes a leader just has to leave emotion out of it. Right, Miss J?

  —Greyson Storm, Letters to Miss Julian.

  In the Bunker's main control room, Greyson stared at the display from still-functioning cameras attached to the front of the building. They'd had to engage the backup lights to see the street since it was still dark out there. Jax Mercury had brought a force with him. At least sixteen soldiers, including Raze Shadow and three trucks that Greyson could see.

  Damon looked up from the monitor. “We have weapons ready to go if you want. The Bunker has some decent defenses when one is prepared.”

  Grey couldn't just kill Maureen's brother, especially since he'd just laid down the law with her. He grabbed a wall mic and lifted the damn thing to his mouth. “Mercury. I told you to fucking come after first light.”

  The Vanguard leader looked up, directly at the camera mounted above the front door, and flipped Greyson off.

  Grey released the button. “He is such a dick.”

  Damon nodded, munching contentedly on some popcorn that smelled heavenly. “We could just shoot one of them.”

  Grey rolled his eyes. “If you were serious, I'd be concerned and wonder who switched brains with you.”

  Damon glanced over his shoulder. “My brain is unswitchable.”

  “Only because nobody would want it,” Grey shot back. He eyed the force outside. “Although, is it just me, or are they not taking us seriously?”

  Damon chewed some more. “The number of soldiers they brought says they think we're serious.”

  “Maybe.” The fact that he had Maureen Shadow definitely had to tick the Vanguard guys off. “Maybe we should just shoot one or two of them.” He could probably guarantee a couple of through and throughs without taking any lives.

  Damon set down the bowl. “Listen. I know you. If you let them in, we're aligning with Vanguard. It'd be too messy otherwise.”

  “I'm not ready to make that decision,” Grey said, the sight of Maureen's shocked and disappointed eyes burned into his brain. He studied the soldiers he could see and then engaged the button again. “Mercury? You can bring in Shadow, Sami Steel, and yourself. I guarantee your safety.”

  Jax frowned. “My forces all come in.”

  “No. Right now, I'm not interested in having more soldiers in here. I'm well aware of the firepower you have out there, and we all know they could do some damage to the Bunker if you're kept a prisoner. Right now, it's the three of you. Period.”

  Jax lifted a radio to his ear and listened. He smiled.

  Shit. Greyson waited.


  “We just took the parking garage,” Jax said.

  This was giving Grey a fucking headache. “Fine. Keep your forces there, or mine will engage in the stairwells. I guarantee your safety while you're here. Doesn't Shadow want to see his sister?” Yeah, it was a shitty thing to say, but he was rapidly losing any patience he might've had. Sometime in the far distant past.

  Damon took another bite of popcorn. “You already know what you're going to do. We both do.”

  Greyson looked down at his best friend. “Oh, do we?”

  “Yep.” Damon grinned. “If you weren't going to align with Vanguard, you would've just shot Jax for having taken the garage. Maureen is having your baby. The president kidnapped her, from you, and there's no way you can let that go. Not even for air support.”

  Grey studied him. “He's the president.” That had to matter, at least a little.

  “Yeah, but the vice president pretty much threatened Maureen when we were there, and I know you're going to put a bullet in his head at some point for that. You can't align with the president and then take out Lake.” Damon straightened his shirt. “It's a done deal, and you know it.”

  “I would've liked a little more time to work things through in my mind,” Grey muttered.

  “That's the sniper in you. Lining up a shot takes a lot of time and experience. You need to shoot from the hip here, partner.” Damon eyed the soldiers outside. “Though this ain't gonna go easy.”

  Fuck. Fine. “Mercury? Get your ass in the front door with Shadow and Steel. Tace Justice is already waiting on the landing, I'm sure. I guarantee your safety, and we can draw up an agreement for the use of the Bunker and mutual defense.”

  Raze Shadow shoved by Jax on the street, barely limping, glaring at the screen. “Where the hell is my sister?”

  “Your sister should be fucking sleeping since it's four in the morning,” Greyson shot back, his temper stirring again.

  Shadow grinned. “Giving you trouble, is she?”