Page 6 of Storm Gathering


  Damon nodded. “True. If we're going to find other Bunkers, we need the best. It's amazing the computers are still working.”

  There had to be other Bunkers out there, and Damon was right. They needed to track them down for resources and information. “The computers are running on generators, and we need to catalog how long we can keep them going,” Greyson said. “We don't have the resources to protect the Bunker and Merc territory in case the president attacks again soon.”

  “If we keep the Bunker for ourselves, Jax Mercury will attack if he doesn't try to kill us today.”

  Greyson nodded. “Yeah.” He hated not having a clear path, but he wasn't sure what to do. There had to be time to make the right decision, but the clock was counting down way too fast. The world was closing in again, damn it.

  Damon cleared his throat. “Plus, there's Maureen.”

  Nerves pricked down Grey's back. The mere mention of her sent his system into overdrive. It was shocking how much he missed the little spitfire. “It would be nice to have her catalog our greenhouses. See if any food can be harvested.”

  Damon stretched his other arm. “Right.”

  “Shut up.” Grey reached for a bottle of water and drank it down, his throat parched. Summer had blown in with brutality. “The deal with Vanguard was that she'd come to work with us if we helped them take the Bunker.”

  “Do you think Vanguard will adhere to the deal?” Damon asked quietly.

  Grey shook his head. “Not if they can help it. Her brother won't want to let her go again.” Couldn't blame the guy. Maureen was special and soft and delicate. Even if she could kick a guy in the chin with no notice. He rubbed his chest. Was she okay? Safe? He needed to talk to her. Had he taken advantage? Fuck, he hoped not. Oh, if they were on even footing, he'd take what she offered and not give it back. Ever. The woman was special. “We also promised you'd help out with their internal problem.”

  Damon nodded. “I did. Some Pure church at Vanguard only for those who haven't been infected like me. They might be holding kids hostage. Maybe. Who the hell knows.”

  Grey leaned sideways, studying his friend. “It's not like you to volunteer for other groups.”

  Did Damon just flush? With his darker skin, it was hard to tell. But that sure seemed like a fucking blush. “We set up the mission after they saved my life last time I got shot. I kinda think I owe them. Just that.”

  Grey narrowed his gaze, his instincts humming. “Just that? What else could it be?” What was going on?

  “Nothing.” Damon hunched forward.

  “Damon?”

  His friend leaned back. “You'll totally take this the wrong way, but part of the undercover op is being run by…”

  “A woman. By a woman.” Triumph along with interest filtered through Greyson. “Tell me about the woman.” Hmmm. Damon hadn't expressed an interest in anybody before, although there had been very few opportunities. “What's her name?”

  Damon rolled his eyes. “It's not like that. She looks like the former suburban soccer mom I've heard she was. Pretty and untouchable, you know?” He shook his head. “I just want somebody who knows what they're doing on the inside with her, and none of the Vanguard lieutenants can go in. They've all survived the bacterium, whereas I'm uninfected.”

  “What makes her untouchable?” Greyson asked, trying to delve more. He and Damon had bonded over the last six months, but they'd never really talked about women. There hadn't been time.

  “She's normal,” Damon said. “I mean, she was before Scorpius. We never would've crossed paths.”

  The world had changed. “Because you were a cop?”

  Damon nodded. “Yeah. Totally different lifestyles. She's somebody who probably had her own latte machine in her kitchen.”

  Huh. He'd never met anybody who had their own latte machine. “There aren't any latte machines that still work. Maybe you have more in common than you think.” Scorpius had changed everybody.

  “No.” Damon grinned. “I ain't easy, Grey. That woman needs easy. Nice, flowers, missionary easy.” He looked around at the desolate world outside the Humvee. “A guy like me doesn't want nice.”

  Okay. They'd crossed into chick bonding territory. Greyson nodded. “Fair enough.” Grey would have to check the woman out. It was time Damon had some fun, even if he needed a little push. For now, it was back to work. “I think we have to share the Bunker with Vanguard.” For the computer expert, if nothing else.

  “So what's our plan?” Damon asked, wiping sweat off his brow.

  “We walk into Vanguard and make our demands,” Greyson said. “We'll deny them entry to the Bunker unless they adhere to the promises we all made.”

  Damon watched the buildings fly by. “I already miss the hot showers at the Bunker.”

  No shit. When was the last time Maureen had even seen a hot shower? Grey's blood sped up at the thought of being near her again. Their morning after their drunken sex night had been awkward, and then all hell had broken loose when the president attacked Merc headquarters and had kidnapped her. Grey had saved her, and he’d taken on Vice President Lake to do it. That guy was a stone-cold killer.

  Yet another one in a world gone to hell.

  Maureen had been taken back to Vanguard territory, and Greyson hadn't had a chance to speak to her about their night together. A night that still haunted him with the feeling of her. Soft and sweet. They'd both been drunk, and he'd been concussed, and the whole thing was a little blurry.

  But he had to make sure she was all right.

  Then he had to see if she wanted to do it again. This time, he'd be sober and conscious…and remember every second of touching her. But it was her choice to put herself in his hands.

  Once she did, he'd take over.

  Plus, Vanguard was vulnerable after their recent battle. Maureen would be safer with him, and that mattered.

  “Shit,” Damon breathed.

  Grey looked his way to see a decomposing body mounted to the front of a school bus in the left lane facing them. A man, maybe in his early twenties. The body had been dead for at least a couple of weeks.

  Damon lifted his gun to point out the window. “You see any movement?”

  “No,” Grey said softly, one hand tugging his gun out of the holster at his thigh. “We'll want to remember that's there for when we head back home.”

  “I wouldn't mind avoiding it,” Damon said as they passed the macabre scene. “Maybe take the back roads.”

  Hell. These days, back roads were twice as dangerous. But if Grey was bringing Maureen out of the shelter of Vanguard, they'd need to assure her safety. “We'll get a map at Vanguard.”

  “If they don't shoot us on sight,” Damon said grimly.

  Chapter Eight

  I always figured I’d have kids with some sweet guy I fell for in a lab somewhere. This…I never expected. What now?

  —Maureen Shadow, Notes

  Three days after finding out she was actually pregnant, really pregnant, preggo with Greyson Storm's kid, Maureen sat on the examination table and barely kept from kicking her feet like she had when she was a child. She turned the bottle of prenatal vitamins around in her hands. Three days. How her life had changed in those three meager days.

  “Your yeast infection is completely cleared. You're fine,” Penelope said.

  She nodded. “I know.” Yet she wasn't exactly fine, now was she?

  “Have you told anybody about the baby?” Penelope asked, leaning back against the cracked counter, a threadbare white lab coat covering her petite frame.

  Moe shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I just, I mean…” Shit.

  Penelope nodded. “Listen, Moe. Our medical facilities aren't good, but there are probably still options.”

  Moe's head jerked up. “Oh. Right. No.” She bit her lip. “I want to keep the baby. I already know that.” She placed a hand over her still flat stomach. “It's just, there's a lot to consider. The world sucks. The father…”

  Penelop
e nodded. “Yes. I've obviously never met the leader of the Mercs, but his reputation is a bloody one.” She lifted a slim shoulder. “You might have an obligation to protect the baby and not tell him.” She sighed. “Of course, the entire world is bloody. Vanguard isn't made of angels, either.”

  Wasn't that the truth. “My brother is going to lose his damn mind,” Moe said, taking a deep breath. Raze would never believe she had been willing or had made the first move. He'd always see her as an innocent little girl he needed to protect.

  Penelope wrinkled her nose. “You're on your own there.” She cleared her throat.

  Moe stiffened. The doctor's dark eyes had gone soft. Somber. “What?”

  “I have a duty to tell you. There have been no live births for Scorpius survivors.” She leaned in, her eyes intense. “We'll change that. Somehow. This baby will live.”

  Oh God. Moe took a deep breath. The room started spinning. “What? What a minute. What does that mean?”

  Penelope moved toward Moe and grasped her free hand. “Women who were pregnant when they contracted Scorpius either died or miscarried. Women who've become pregnant after surviving Scorpius have also miscarried—to the best of my knowledge, which isn't extensive.”

  Chills tracked through Moe. Fear made her heart seize and then release. “We think. I mean, the world has gone pretty dark. We don't know that for sure.” There could be tons of pregnant women out there beyond California. Living their lives and still having healthy pregnancies.

  Penelope nodded vigorously. “That's right. There's a lot we don't know.”

  “What do I do?” Maureen asked, her voice creaking.

  “Just be as healthy as you can be,” Penelope said, sliding her hands into her pockets. “We'll get back to the Bunker and start going through research. When I was there, I wasn't part of the labs, not really. I just provided medical services to wounded soldiers. So there must be data there about this. Right?”

  A sharp rap sounded on the door, and Maureen jumped.

  Penelope turned. “Yes?”

  Marcus poked his large head in and spoke only to Penelope. “Raze is here. Wants Maureen for a meeting with the guys from up north.” The hulking bodyguard didn't move enough for Raze to be visible.

  Maureen shoved the bottle of vitamins into her small pack and jumped off the table. Greyson was there. It had to be. Heat flushed into her face and through her entire body. What in the world was she going to do?

  She gingerly pushed past Marcus to see her big brother.

  His blue eyes narrowed. “You okay? What's wrong?”

  “Girl issues,” she said primly.

  He stepped back, and even Marcus moved a little more to the side. “Oh. Okay,” Raze said, pivoting. “Greyson Storm and Damon Winter are here, and they won't talk until you're in the room. You have to know, Jax and I have decided you're not going back into Merc territory this week. Not while we're rebuilding from the president's attack. We have to stay here.”

  She stumbled and reached for his arm. “I am going. There's a time constraint with any crops that might still be living.” She wasn't hopeful. What should she say to Greyson? Her stomach rolled over.

  Raze paused and looked behind them. “Dr. Penelope? Would you like to join us? By yourself?”

  Marcus pivoted and put his big body between Penelope and them.

  “Move aside, Marcus,” Penelope said gently, and the soldier turned to put his back against the door. She smiled, her eyes still somber. “No thanks. I have work to do here.”

  Raze hesitated. “Marcus? Why don't you head outside and patrol? Give Penelope some space.”

  Marcus turned only his head to face Raze and didn't speak.

  Penelope studied him. “That's okay, Raze. Marcus and I need to have a little talk, anyway.”

  “You sure you're safe?” Raze asked.

  She smiled. “I'm sure. Marcus would never hurt me, would you?” she asked him.

  Marcus turned back to her as if Raze and Maureen didn't exist. “I'll never let anything hurt you. Ever.” His voice was a low growl.

  Raze shook his head and grasped Maureen's arm, leading her toward the reception area. “I'm afraid we're just going to have to put him down at some point,” he whispered.

  Maureen shivered. The poor guy. Many Scorpius survivors developed some sort of obsession, but this was the worst she'd seen or even heard about. “I feel so terrible for him. It's like he's holding on to Penelope like she's a rope in a crashing storm.”

  “Let's hope he doesn't just hang her with it,” Raze said grimly, escorting Moe through the soup kitchen and back into the Vanguard war rooms. “Back to our conversation about Santa Barbara. You're not going without me, and I can't leave Vanguard until we've shored up our defenses and fixed the damage from the last attack.” He stepped back to let her inside.

  Grey and Damon sat at the far end of a monstrous table. The first sight of Grey after the weeks apart stole her breath. He was every bit as big and deadly-looking as she remembered. And he kissed like a god. A truly talented and hungry god. Her abdomen warmed. She tore her gaze away from his intense stare to look around the quiet room.

  Somebody had brought in an executive table with some odd design in the center. It looked like it had been from a law firm at some point.

  Jax kicked out a chair next to him in a silent invitation to sit. Or order. Most likely an order. The Vanguard leader had hard brown eyes, black hair, and sharp Hispanic features. The guy had been in a gang and then the military, and there was nothing soft about him. Well, except for the woman he loved. Lynne Harmony was very gentle.

  Moe sat with Raze taking the seat on her other side. Talk about being flanked by testosterone.

  She tried really hard not to blush.

  But her cheeks still heated.

  She and Greyson hadn't had time to talk after their one night together, and now what the hell was she supposed to do?

  How could she have gotten pregnant? It was still hard to wrap her head around the reality. What about Greyson? Before Scorpius, she would've thought it was the right thing to do to tell a baby’s father. But now? Life had changed. She barely knew the guy, and there was a good chance they weren't even allies.

  He watched her, ignoring everyone else. “Maureen. How are you?”

  Knocked up? Freaked out? Scared to death? “Fine,” she murmured, taking a good look at him. In the muted light, his eyes appeared almost all gray without the green or blue hues. His wide shoulder met Damon's, and he'd worn his usual black T-shirt and jeans for the meet. Lines fanned out from his full mouth. “You look tired,” she said.

  Raze cut her a look.

  Grey nodded. “We had a slight rebellion at the Bunker by some of the soldiers left over from the old regime and had to quell the disturbance.”

  Quell? Something told her that didn't include prison time. “Oh.”

  Jax drummed his fingers on the table. “Speaking of the Bunker, we're ready to send forces back there to gather more information. We have to find the other Bunker facilities.”

  Grey lifted an eyebrow. “Vanguard is a mess. I could see the damage the second we approached. You were attacked with superior weapons and even from the air. You'll need weeks to get safeguards back in place. How about you keep your soldiers here to rebuild and just send your computer expert to the Bunker? I'll guarantee her safety.”

  “That doesn't work for me,” Jax drawled. “You've already kidnapped one member of Vanguard, and I'd rather not put any more of my people in your hands.”

  Maureen watched the interchange. She hadn't exactly been a member of Vanguard when she was kidnapped, but it was nice that Jax considered her one.

  Greyson studied her and then turned to Jax. “I understand but don't see how there's much choice. Send Sami Steel to the Bunker, and I'll make sure she's protected. Maureen can come to Merc territory, as promised, and check out our food sources.”

  His voice, low and throaty, washed over Moe's skin like a caress. What was wrong
with her? He was all the way across the room.

  Jax sighed. “No.”

  Greyson spread his hands on the table. Those big, gentle, strong, talented hands. “You're weak here and need to repair. Now.”

  Raze nodded. “Which is why we have to concentrate here and at the Bunker. We don't have the forces to send into Merc territory to investigate your greenhouses and other facilities right now. Maureen can't go. Maybe in a few weeks.”

  Moe stiffened. That was too late. “I don't need a force. Just a notebook.”

  Greyson's lips twitched. “I can guarantee your sister's safety.”

  Moe's head jerked. The dicks. All of them. “Listen. I'm an adult, and I can make my own decisions. I'm willing to go into Merc territory. Time is of the essence. We have a lot of people to feed, and we're going to be out of canned or boxed goods before we know it.” Plus, she needed an opportunity to get to know Greyson. To figure out if she should tell him the truth.

  Jax looked at Raze over her head. “No. We'll wait until we can send a force.”

  Temper swirled through Moe. Just who the hell did any of them think they were?

  Greyson didn't appear surprised. If anything, he looked a little bored. “Figured you might say that. Well then, you don't get access to the Bunker.”

  Heat rolled from either side of Maureen. Shit. This was bad.

  Chapter Nine

  Supplies are getting low, Damon wants to go undercover in an enemy facility because of a woman, and I'm losing focus on my primary objective. I wish you were here to advise.

  —Greyson Storm, Letters to Miss Julian

  Greyson fully understood Raze's need to protect his sister. But he didn't give a shit. A deal was a deal, and Maureen needed to check out those greenhouses. He also had to apologize and explain himself to her. Then he'd leave her alone. His wanting her back in his territory had nothing to do with the softness of her skin or the sounds of pleasure she made that still haunted him at night.