“Yes. We train daily. Or weekly,” Jada allowed.
April studied her. Something was off here, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. “Where? You guys don’t leave this building. Where do you train?”
Jada moved for the door. “There’s a concrete room on the top floor, or we go to the roof where there are blocks set up so we don’t hurt anybody. For hand-to-hand, there’s a makeshift gym on the first floor with mats from the old schoolhouse.”
“Jada,” April called.
The woman turned around. “What?”
April studied her. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Jada shook her head. “You know everything. Why are you trying to find something that isn’t here? Are you that unsure about the path you’ve chosen?” She waved her arms. “It’s safe here. You could have the life you want, with Damon, inside here. There are people who need your help.”
April opened her mouth and then closed it again. She breathed in. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
“Ditto.” As Jada left, another woman walked inside.
“Hi,” April said. This woman was in her mid to late thirties with just a few strands of gray peppering her brown hair. She looked to be about, what? Four months pregnant. “I’m April.”
“Jessica Daniels.” The woman moved inside gracefully, her legs and arms toned and displayed in pregnancy shorts and a pink top. “I’m here voluntarily, don’t want to leave, and it’s none of your business how or when I got pregnant.” She sat, her eyes a sharp brown. “Any other questions?”
April swallowed. It was going to be a long day.
26
I’m feeling anything but casual right now with her. Why pretend otherwise?
—Damon Winter, Journal
Damon took April’s hand again as they left the Pure apartment building after a truly delicious dinner of a pasta dish with sauces. The noodles had been homemade, or he wasn’t a Winter.
The sun hadn’t given up the fight of the day yet, and its rays bounced off the brick buildings, turning them a deeper red. Heat wove from every direction—the bombarded pavement, surrounding structures, and the sky itself. Sweat slicked his brow, but he slowed his pace so April didn’t have to hurry.
She was uncharacteristically silent at his side, obviously mulling over her day. Her notebooks were tucked neatly in her backpack, and she hadn’t protested when he took it from her to carry.
They passed patrolling soldiers, but everyone else was inside on the lowest floor they could find, trying to stay cool.
“Heatstroke is going to be a problem if we don’t get a break,” she said, eyes squinting in the glare.
He nodded. “Yeah. We’ve had scouts out looking for new locations, but I think it’s going to be a trek north for the entire community. We’ll have to come up with a reasonable timeline within the next month or so.” After he got them into the Reno Bunker. The information there might give them a different path.
They finally reached headquarters and headed inside where it was slightly cooler. Not much, though. He kept her hand as they moved through the throngs of tables and soldiers before entering Jax’s war room.
Jax sat at his table with Greyson on one side and Lynne Harmony on the other.
Damon couldn’t help the quick look at her blue heart beneath her peach shirt.
Jax sat back, stretching his neck. His olive-colored T-shirt pulled tightly across his wide chest. “Well? You see the light and find God?”
April snorted and dropped into a sleek, leather chair from the law firm Vanguard had raided. “No, but I’ve been all but promised a happy and safe life if I get Damon to fall in love with me and join up inside. Bliss and the promised land of an organic farm in the future.”
“Organic, huh?” Greyson scrubbed both hands down his face and over his stubble. “Isn’t everything organic now?”
Interesting. Good point. Damon set the pack on the ground and sat, wiping sweat off his forehead. “I wasn’t promised fifty virgins or anything.” He settled his chair closer to April. “I investigated the entire building, top to bottom, and will draw you schematics later. Didn’t see much out of place. But something is off. Don’t know what.”
April nodded. “I agree. Can’t put my finger on it, but I’m telling you, they’re not a cult. Or even a zealous religious group. They have a weekly sermon, and King thinks God called him to this, but it’s not overt or in your face.”
Damon sat back, watching the expressions move across her cheekbones. Her quick mind was fascinating to watch in action. There was such kind gentleness to her that her obvious intelligence was easy to overlook. “We had spectacular homemade pasta for dinner.”
Greyson stilled. “I read the manifest from the warehouse the Pure emptied. No flour. Doesn’t fresh pasta take flour?” He looked at Lynne.
The scientist shook her head, and a couple of blond strands of hair escaped the clip on top of her head. “Don’t ask me. I was never a cook.”
“Yes, you need flour,” April said. “And this was the good kind with flour and not some alteration to the recipe. The sauce was fresh, as well. That means flour, sugar, and maybe even some ripe tomatoes.”
“Damn it,” Jax muttered. “Where are they getting supplies?”
Damon drummed his fingers on the luxurious table. “Well, we know they were talking to somebody in the president’s camp through the fence not too long ago.”
Jax shook his head. “I’ve had men on the Pure apartment building, inside and outside of Vanguard-Merc territory since. Nobody has passed anything over, through, or under that fence. It has been twenty-four-hour surveillance, and I’ve rotated soldiers, so even if one is aligned with King, the rest aren’t.”
Sometimes paranoia just made sense. “Then they had to have the provisions before taking the warehouse,” Damon said. Nothing else worked. He looked at April. “What else did you learn?”
She shook out her dress to pull it away from her body. “Only one out of the twelve pregnant women would tell me who the father was, and she is ready to give birth any day. The father was her husband, who died because of Scorpius.”
Damon cocked his head. “That’s weird, right?”
“Maybe,” April said. “Or they’re just being stubborn and letting us know we’re outsiders and their lives are none of our business. Which is kind of true.”
“Anybody seem coerced or scared?” Jax asked.
April shrugged. “Definitely scared, but more of me and Scorpius. Like I had it all over my body or something.” She wiped her hands down her legs. “They all said the same thing, pretty much.”
“Like they were coached?” Damon asked.
“Maybe.” She nodded. “And they show the younger kids scary pictures of the world out there, and of Rippers. I guarantee no teenagers will be sneaking out of the Pure building to have a good time in Vanguard-Merc territory.” She winced. “And they’re all packing heat.”
Did she just say “packing heat?” Damon tamped down a grin. Then what she said registered. “Even the pregnant women are walking around with guns?”
She nodded. “Teenagers, too. It’s like they’re expecting an attack at any second.” She looked at Jax. “But they’re not scared of you. Several of them alluded to the fact that they’re protected somehow, and it’s not just from God.”
Greyson cut Damon a look. “Explosives?”
Who the hell knew? “I didn’t see any evidence, but that doesn’t mean the entrances aren’t wired behind all the cement blocks and alterations they’ve made,” Damon said, clicking through mental pictures of the apartment building. “Were there explosives in the warehouse they emptied?”
“No,” Jax said shortly. “But, apparently, that doesn’t mean much. Even if we have a scout or two bringing them supplies, wouldn’t we have noticed it?”
Lynne shrugged. “Maybe not. The scouts return to the front entrance and take their hauls to the warehouses where it’s catalogued. I guess a scout or two could drop by
the Pure first. But with explosives?”
“Maybe it’s time we catalogued everything the second the scouts come in through the front gate.” Greyson rolled his shoulders back, wincing. He’d been injured when he killed the vice president, and he still didn’t seem a hundred percent. Damon made a mental note to talk to him later.
“We’ll have to implement something new,” Jax agreed. “What’s the next move with the Pure?”
April straightened. “I’ve been invited to a women’s bible study tomorrow night. It sounds more like a social event than a church thing, but maybe I can get more of them to relax around me. I’d like to attend.”
“Damon?” Jax asked.
April all but bristled next to him.
Damon didn’t want to tick her off, but it was his op. “I don’t have a reason to be there, so no.”
April turned toward him so suddenly that her chair hit his. “What exactly do you think is going to happen to me in there?”
“I don’t know,” he said tersely, his back going up. “But I don’t want you inside where I can’t get to you quickly without shooting a couple of kids who think they’re guards.”
Greyson studied him.
Damon felt the stare and turned, staring right back at his best friend. Damn it. He was being too overprotective. There wasn’t much that could actually happen to April inside, especially at some bible study. And having her in there alone would give her greater freedom. “Shut up,” he said to Grey.
Grey shrugged.
April frowned and looked back and forth between them. “He didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, he did.” Damon’s jaw clenched, making his teeth hurt. “All right. You can go in alone. Here’s the deal. You go in with a radio as well as a weapon in your pack. I have access to you via the radio at all times. No exception.”
He waited until she nodded before he continued. “Tonight, we do some target practice, and you start learning hand-to-hand tomorrow.” He’d meant to make that happen anyway. He looked at Jax. “Where’s the schedule for that?”
“In the cafeteria,” Jax said. “Most training sessions have been moved to early morning or late night because of the heat. Sami’s at the Bunker, so other soldiers are filling in.” He nodded. “At some point, if you really want skills, we’ll get her to train you.”
Damon nodded. He’d teach her for now. He didn’t like this, but from a professional standpoint, there was no reason to keep her from going in. From a personal one, he didn’t have the right.
Jax jerked his head toward April. “Find out where they’re getting supplies.”
“Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll try.”
Greyson grabbed a map off the nearest table and unfolded it, shoving the paper toward Damon. “The gang members we grabbed gave us the location of three other houses.”
Damon studied the map. He didn’t want to know how the guys had given up the info. “Anything else?”
“The Twenty gang has taken out most other gangs and competition in California, and they’re answering directly to the president,” Greyson said soberly. “He has them thinking they’re part of the US military, and he’s arming them with what he has. He wants us dead. Now.”
Killing his vice president had probably guaranteed that. But the guy had been crazy nuts and truly evil. He’d had to go.
Damon looked up. “I like that we have one main enemy and not a hundred. That’s good. We can strike surgically.”
Lynne leaned forward. “The priority has to be the Reno Bunker. I need that research. Now.”
Jax nodded. “Agreed. How much time do you need to plan once we have enough explosives, Damon? I want to take that place.”
April stiffened next to him, and Damon grasped her hand beneath the table. “If somebody else is covering the plan to protect the territory when we’re gone, I could have a strategy to you by tomorrow night to execute the following night. I’ll need all schematics and notes that we have on the entire block holding the Bunker.”
“You’ve got it,” Jax said.
Greyson stood. “Your new apartment is the third from the left on the second floor. We’re almost finished with relocating everywhere, and the teams, scouts, and squads have been altered to include both former Vanguard and former Merc members.”
“Any problems?” Damon asked.
Greyson lifted a shoulder. “A few bloody noses and split lips, but no deaths. We’ll be okay.”
Damon stood and assisted April up. “We’ll go do some target practice, and then I’ll be back for those notes and such.” He placed a hand on her lower back, nudging her to the door. Maybe they should break in his new digs first.
“Damon?” Greyson asked.
Damon paused and turned.
“The Twenty gang members… The two that we, ah, interrogated?”
Damon’s shoulders felt heavy. “Yeah?”
“We let them go afterward.” Greyson’s eyes were more green than gray or blue tonight. “Sent them out into the world.”
Damon nodded. His brother knew him and had just alleviated a concern that would’ve stuck. Killing didn’t sit well with him, even when necessary in battle. Oh, the gang members were probably as good as dead. They couldn’t go back to the Twenty gang because everyone would know they talked. But at least they had a chance to find a safe place. “Thanks.”
Greyson stretched his back. “You know it.”
Damon turned and grasped April’s hand again. Touching her just seemed so damn natural. Arousal sparked through his veins. The more he had her, the more he wanted her.
Keeping it casual was going to kill him.
27
Vanguard is significant, as are the Mercenaries. Research into curing Scorpius is of the utmost importance. But in the end, when the sun sets, it will be Jax Mercury who matters the most to me. Just him.
—Dr. Lynne Harmony, Journal
Lynne Harmony watched Damon, April, and Greyson leave the war room and shut the door behind them. “I like them,” she murmured. It was odd to think that the Mercenaries had been their enemy before.
“Me, too.” Jax settled his hand on her bare thigh, and his callused fingers caressed her skin. “You think April is up to this?”
“Yes.” Lynne turned toward the only man she’d ever loved. In the dimmer light, his face was sharp and strong. Those eyes, those bourbon-colored eyes, startled her every time with their sheer intelligence. “She’s falling for him.”
“I know,” Jax muttered.
Interesting. “Is that why you spoke about the Twenty gang houses as well as the Bunker strike in front of her?” Lynne asked.
Jax nodded. “Yeah. She needs to know what she’s getting into with him. I knew guys like Damon in the military. They’re solid and strong…and if anybody else is in danger, they’re jumping in the way first. It’s who he is.”
“He’s a good guy,” Lynne said. Didn’t April deserve something good?
Jax studied her. “I know. Even when I wasn’t sure about Greyson or the Mercs, I liked Damon and wanted him on board. He’s smart and loyal. You can’t beat that.” Jax tapped farther up her thigh, sending her senses into overdrive. “But if you’re on the front line, you’re a target. With his size, he’s a hell of a target.”
“So are you.” Lynne leaned over and kissed him. “I’ve managed to live with that fact.”
“You’re stronger than any person I’ve ever met.” He took over the kiss, taking her deep, giving her everything.
Nobody was strong enough to lose the one they love. She never said those words out loud, but they were the truth. She leaned back, her body tingling head to toe. How he did that, she’d never know. “I noticed you didn’t tell Greyson or Damon what else those Twenty gang members told you.”
Jax cut her a look. “Why would I?”
She pursed her lips. “It’s information they both need for their jobs.”
“No.” Jax shook his head. “Just because some low-level gang member said that my brother wa
s trained to work for the psycho president doesn’t make it true. Those guys are given misinformation every day.”
Yeah, but Marcus was definitely off.
Lynne trod lightly. “I think you should increase his sessions with Vinnie. She’s a good shrink, even if she doesn’t want to be one.”
“Those sessions are useless because Raze won’t leave Marcus alone with the shrink.” Jax played with her fingers, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’ll get through to him. At some point, I’ll figure out how.”
What if Marcus were working with the president? She couldn’t even imagine the experiments that had been conducted on him by the Bunker scientists. And if President Bret Atherton had been leading the charge, it was brutal and inhumane. She shivered.
Jax leaned in. “He is never going to get you.”
She swallowed. Before Scorpius, she’d dated Bret. He’d been Speaker of the House. Then he’d been infected, and he’d become brilliantly insane—if he wasn’t already. And he wanted her. Was obsessed with her like only a Scorpius survivor could become. “I know,” she murmured.
But they’d meet again. At some point, it’d come down to Bret Atherton and her. A fight to the death for one of them.
How she knew that, she couldn’t explain.
Some things were just meant to happen.
President Bret Atherton looked out of his office window at the sparkling Lake Tahoe in full summer shimmer. Blue and strong, it glimmered beneath a powerful sun. A fan blew somewhat cool air across his face, and he breathed deeply. At some point, he wouldn’t be able to use the generators for something as luxurious as a fan.
Maybe.
He’d taken over a mansion-turned-federal-park as his new headquarters, and the place suited him fine. After a recent attack, he’d shored up all of his defenses.
For now, he needed to think. He looked down at a drawing he’d finished the night before of Dr. Lynne Harmony, his soul mate. Her green eyes glimmered with desire, and her smooth, pink lips were pursed, waiting for him.