Penelope clapped her hands together as if she were dealing with toddlers. “Everyone knock it off. Right now. There will be no fighting.”
Marcus straightened but didn’t lose his threatening look.
Greyson didn’t move an inch.
Damon swallowed and winced. “Doc? Why aren’t I thrashing around and trying to bite people?” It was the oddest part of the infection.
She looked down at him, appearing unflappable in her white lab coat with her hair up in a twist. “You haven’t been infected by Scorpius.” Then she shrugged. “I’m pretty sure. Well, almost positive.”
He tried to focus on her words.
Greyson pivoted and leaned toward him. “What do you mean? He’s sick.”
Penelope nodded. “His eyes are clear, and he’s way too in control right now for Scorpius. I think he has the flu.”
Damon reared back, oddly insulted. “The flu? You think I have the flu.”
Her pink lips twitched. “Yes. I’ve had several cases over the last week. It’s definitely going around. You’re dehydrated, you have several injuries, and you haven’t slept well in what, months? It’s a wonder you’re not comatose right now.”
He couldn’t have the flu. That was just so…wimpy.
“The flu?” Greyson said incredulously. “There’s no flu after a pandemic.”
Penelope chuckled. “We’ve had new people moving in, and the flu definitely exists now. Always will, probably.”
Greyson looked at Damon. “You have the flu?” If anything, Grey looked chagrined for him.
Even more heat filled Damon’s cheeks.
“He passed out,” Marcus said helpfully from his corner. “Had to carry him down here. Guy weighs a ton.”
Grey shot Damon a sympathetic look. That was even worse than the surprise.
“I do not have the flu.” Damon tried to swing his legs over the bed, and the entire room spun around him.
“Whoa.” Penelope put a cool hand on his shoulder. “Think of the good news. There’s no way you infected April last night while having intercourse.”
Grey pivoted. “You slept with April?”
Marcus shook his head. “Not cool, man.”
What the hell? The silent Neanderthal was suddenly speaking? “You don’t get an opinion,” Damon muttered.
Marcus snorted. “Jax is gonna kill you.”
Penelope started and looked at Marcus. “You remember Jax? What he’s like?” Her voice softened.
Marcus’s expression smoothed out to nothing. “No. Sorry. Just heard Jax say the other day that if Damon fucked with April, he was going to hang him up by his toes and use him for target practice.”
That sounded like Jax.
Greyson scrubbed both hands down his face. “If you slept with her last night, why isn’t she here?” His eyes cleared. “Oh. I get it. You told her to wait there because you thought it was Scorpius.” When Damon didn’t answer, his chin lowered. “Tell me you talked to her.”
Penelope pressed a hand to her upper chest. “You did not just leave this morning without a word.”
Damon winced. “I panicked.” He needed to throw up.
“You left a note?” Penelope asked, her voice rising with what sounded like hope.
Damon heaved.
Marcus and Greyson leaped away from him and ran for the door, colliding and then somehow making it through to the hallway. Penelope calmly grabbed an old classroom-type garbage can off the floor and handed it to him. “In here, if you have to vomit.”
Damon slapped both hands against the side of the cool metal and glared toward the hallway. He gulped several times to keep from emptying his stomach. If the Scorpius bacteria hadn’t gotten him, there was no way a flu bug would take him down. “You guys are assholes.”
Greyson poked his head back in. “Can you give him anything, Doc?”
Doc Penelope nodded. “I can spare some over-the-counter pain relievers, but I don’t have any flu medication.”
Damon shook his head and instantly regretted it. He stared at the garbage can for a minute until his stomach was back under control. “We have to save those for sick kids. I don’t need an aspirin.”
Penelope shrugged. “That’s your choice. The fever is high because your body is fighting the virus, but it’s not high enough that I’m worried. So far, with the cases I’ve seen this week, it’s a twenty-four-hour bug. You should be feeling much better by tomorrow morning.”
He tried to move off the bed again, and his body fought him. “I have to go talk to April.”
Doc Penelope all put pushed him down into a prone position. “You should probably give her a little space. I’ll talk to her and make sure she hasn’t contracted the flu. You sleep, and I’ll be back to check on you a little later.” She headed for the door, her movements brisk and efficient like always. Marcus followed her down the hallway. Also like always.
Grey grimaced. “Not even a note?”
April sat in the shade of the umbrella bored into the middle of the wooden table while the younger kids played on the swings and slides. A couple of girls threw a baseball back and forth, their movements slower than usual because of the heat. It was still morning, but April would have to take them inside soon. She caught sight of Doc Penelope and Marcus Knight down the block, heading her way.
Doc Penelope often checked in on the kids, so the sight was nothing new. April watched them approach. Penelope walked calmly and with a quick stride for somebody so petite, while Marcus kept right behind her, his gaze scouting the entire area around them at once.
He looked like a bodyguard—one of the deadly and threatening ones—to a movie star.
There was such a contrast in their body movements and size that it was interesting to watch. He had to be at least a foot taller than the doctor, and while she was definitely small of build, Marcus was all size and muscle.
Had he been like that before he was infected with Scorpius? The bacterium was known to change not only the brains of people but also their bodies. Many survivors became bigger and stronger.
“Good morning.” Doc Penelope reached April first and gestured toward the empty seat at the table. “May I?”
“Of course.” April looked around for another chair for Marcus.
He shook his head. “I’ll go sit.” Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he walked over to the house next to the playground and sat on the burned grass, his back to a short and crumbling stone fence some homeowner must’ve tried to build himself.
From Marcus’s position, he could see anybody coming for Penelope or the kids.
April tilted her head. “You have quite the bodyguard.”
Penelope’s eyes softened. “I know. He’s getting much better, though. He won’t admit it, but I think he’s beginning to remember his life before Scorpius.”
“That’s great.” Would it make a difference in anything, though? April flattened her hands on the rough and heated wood. “You here to see the kids?”
“No. Damon wanted me to pop by.”
At the mention of his name, April’s ears started to heat. “Is that a fact?”
Penelope winced, her dark eyes sympathetic. She shrugged out of her white lab coat and straightened a slim, gray sundress. “He woke up with symptoms of Scorpius, panicked, and wanted to get away from you before he became dangerous or infected you if he hadn’t already.”
The words smacked April in the face. Fear roared through her. “He was infected?” Oh, God. She partially stood. She had to get to him. No wonder his skin had been so hot last night.
“No.” Penelope held up a hand. “He thought he was, but it’s the flu. More than likely.”
April paused, halfway from her chair. “The flu?”
Penelope smiled. “Yes. He’s quite embarrassed about the whole thing, to be honest. It’s kind of cute.”
One of the teenagers had been sick the week before, so the flu was definitely going around. “He had to have known it wasn’t Scorpius.” April sat back down.
Penelope looked thoughtful. “Not necessarily. Those soldiers push themselves too hard. He’s been in several fights over the last months, and their home burned to the ground. I heard he went into burning homes to pull out survivors.”
April had heard that, as well. “True.”
“He’s been wounded, and I know he sleeps only an hour or so a night to keep up with the patrols and protecting Greyson’s back. It’s a wonder they’re not all sicker than dogs right now.” Penelope tugged a loose string on her dress and neatly broke it off. “Plus, he hasn’t had Scorpius, so he doesn’t have the added immunity we think it might give to survivors.”
That was all conjecture. Wait a minute. “He told you he left me this morning?”
“Without a note.” Penelope nudged her arm. “How was he? I mean, he’s all tough and silent and somehow sweet. I bet he was a power machine in bed.”
April’s mouth gaped open. The prim and proper doctor had just said ‘power machine?‘ “Um.”
Penelope laughed. “I had three sisters, twenty-eight cousins, and about a million other relatives. You think we didn’t girl-talk all the time? Man, I miss that. Don’t you?”
April forced her shoulders to relax. “I didn’t have that. Not really. Grew up in foster care, which was actually pretty nice. Good people and safe places. But you were always moving, and getting close to anybody didn’t make sense. Until Don. My husband.” Who she’d cheated on last night. Guilt made her flush.
Penelope sobered. “Scorpius took him?”
April nodded. “Yeah. He’s long-gone, but I still feel like I was unfaithful.” She looked down at her left ring finger, which had been bare for quite some time. She’d had to barter the ring early on during Scorpius, when people thought gold still mattered.
Penelope placed a hand over April’s. “You know that’s not true, but feelings are different than logic. If you want to talk, I’m here.”
They were talking. April smiled. It felt good to have a friend again. She turned to check on the kids and caught her breath.
Lena was sitting next to Marcus, her back to the stone fence and her little legs extended on the weeds, mimicking his pose. She was showing him a series of what looked like playing cards, and he seemed to be watching intently.
April moved to get up.
“No.” Penelope stopped her. “They’re fine. He’d never hurt a child.”
“Are you sure about that?” The urge to run over and grab the girl away nearly choked April’s voice away.
Penelope nodded. “Yes.”
April remained sitting but watched carefully for any indication of danger.
Lena handed over a card.
Marcus took it and studied it. Then he handed it back. Lena grinned, slapped his knee, and gave him another card.
It was an odd game, but the two seemed to understand the rules.
“See?” Penelope asked.
Maybe. Lena did have a way with people.
April glanced at the sun. “Damon and I were supposed to go to the Pure church for dinner to meet more people tonight.”
Penelope studied the other kids for a moment and then seemed to decide they were fine. “Guess that’s off, huh?”
“No.” April smoothed her hair back away from her face. She’d lost a teenager the night before, and there might be kids in trouble in the church’s apartment building. She needed to get in there and talk to more people. “He might be out of commission, but I still have a job to do.”
No matter what.
19
One time with April is definitely not enough.
—Damon Winter, Journal
Damon relaxed on the bed in his room in the crappy Merc headquarters, his head still hurting but his stomach settling. He’d slept most of the day away and was feeling marginally better. A look at the sun behind the cheap blinds showed it had to be late afternoon.
A soft knock drew him up short. “Come in.” Greyson never knocked. The guy always barged in wherever he wanted.
April opened the door.
Damon sat up in the bed and tried to look tough. Or at least not half-dead. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She faltered and nodded at a Vanguard soldier who’d obviously escorted her.
A hot wave of possessiveness gripped Damon. He cut the guy a look, and the young soldier scrambled away. Then he smoothed out his expression for April. “Come on in, beautiful.” His voice was returning, thank goodness.
She walked into the small room, looking around. She had on a pretty pink sundress, and her thick hair was in a ponytail. “This is…nice.”
He snorted. He had a bed, an end table, and a basket of clothes in the corner. That was it. Anything he’d owned had been burned up in Santa Barbara. “I’m sorry I left so abruptly this morning.” That was a freaking understatement.
She reached the bed and sat on the end of it, her blue eyes cutting through the hazy day. “I understand why you left.” Her fingers plucked nervously at a string on the threadbare comforter.
“Good. I would’ve rather stayed in bed with you,” he said.
She looked at his bare chest and then looked away.
His stomach dropped. Oh, shit. This wasn’t going to be good. “April?”
She stiffened her shoulders. “I’m not mad at you, but I realized this morning that I’m just not ready for, well…this.” Her hand swept out. “For you.”
Oh. Ouch. Well. He rubbed a hand over his very short hair. When he’d worked on the force, he’d shaved his head, and he’d gotten out of the habit. “I understand.” It took guts for her to seek him out like this after the previous night, and he could make it easy on her. Now that he’d had a taste of her, he wanted more. “I thought last night was pretty good.”
Her head jerked, and her stunning blue eyes widened. “You think?”
Amusement cut into him, and he hid it. “Yeah. Didn’t you?”
She nodded vigorously, her ponytail bobbing. “I did. I mean, I’ve never had a one-night stand before, so I wasn’t sure, but the sex was really good.”
A one-night stand? The term pierced into him, and he fought a frown. He didn’t like that. Not one little bit. “It was more than that to me, April.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay. Casual sex, then. Forget the number of times.”
Well, he didn’t much like that either. But she had a point. Neither of them could afford to go all in right now. Life was just too dangerous. “I didn’t think it was all that casual,” he murmured.
Her pretty blush warmed him throughout. “You know what I mean.”
Yeah, and if he felt better, his mind would be working faster to reassure her. In bed, she was just as giving as she was outside of it, just as sweet. Nicely wild, too. He’d wanted to untap that side of her, and now that he had, he didn’t want to return to the friend zone. Every new part of her he discovered, he liked even more. She was kind and strong and sexy as hell. “Can we talk about this?”
“Sure.” She turned to more fully face him on the bed.
His cock woke right up, forgetting he was getting over the flu. Or just not giving a shit.
She drew air in through her nose and then released it, obviously counting. “Here’s the deal. I don’t know how to do this. Be with a man who isn’t Don. Ever.” She shook her head. “Especially somebody like you.”
“Like me?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.” She looked around and then focused back on him. “You’re on the front lines, Damon. You fought with Rippers just last night, and the bandages on your upper arms are from bullets. Actual bullets. You’re in danger every single day, more than the rest of us.”
Well, yeah. He’d dated a waitress once who’d had enough of his life, too. She couldn’t take the fear. People who could be with a cop or soldier and not go crazy with worry were incredibly strong. Unique and special. “We’re all in danger.” That was the absolute truth.
“I know.” She sighed, her skin luminous in the daylight made soft by the blinds.
“It’s just, I don’t know how to be…intimate with another man.” She winced, her embarrassment palpable.
Man, she was sweet. And adorable. He searched for the right words. “We couldn’t get much more intimate than we did last night.”
Her blush turned a fiery tomato color.
He watched, fascinated. Wow.
“I know, but since you ran out, we missed the awkward morning-after moments.”
His hands clenched with the need to grasp her and draw her near, but he might still be contagious, so he didn’t move. “The morning after would’ve been spent with me inside you. Nothing awkward about that.”
“Damon.” Exasperation rolled through her words, but her lips tipped into a small smile.
Good. He was relaxing her. His dick still hadn’t taken a break, though. This close to her, he was ready to go again. Man. Calm down. Take it easy. He didn’t want to spook her. “Listen, April. I like you, I loved being inside you, and I’d give my left arm to be there again.”
Her chin dropped. Surprise winged across her pretty face.
There wasn’t room in his life for coyness or smoothness. Or even charm. “I can’t promise you anything other than a good time, an escape from this crappy world, and protection from harm during the op with the church. They’re not right. I can feel it.”
Her jaw clenched. “I don’t need your protection. You require rest to get over this flu, and I’ll take over the investigation. They’ll let me see the kids. They trust me.”
Irritation clawed at his skin. “Absolutely not. This—”
“Damon—”
“I’m not done.” He waited until she’d snapped her lips shut. “I’m protecting you no matter what because that’s what it is. I’ve been there, you’ve sighed my name, and even if we never speak again, I’m making sure you don’t get hurt any more than you have here in Vanguard.”
“I’m not your responsibility,” she protested.
“You are.” He meant every syllable. “Last night guaranteed that.” He held up a hand before she could protest. “I’m not asking for anything. You want to be friends? We’ll be friends. You want to be lovers? I’m there in a second. It’s up to you.”