“I’ll return with your light, Bastion,” Acier said, grinning. “We’ll have a nice, long convo about you on the way over.”
Bastion stopped walking and turned toward the door. “I should go for her, not him.”
Liege urged him toward the bathroom. “You should shower before you see your light. Trust me. You smell like a pigsty.”
It was midmorning when Liege’s messenger came for Selena. He stood on the hill just below the helo deck. The helicopter behind him was still running. Selena stared out her window, wondering when Jax’s team would sound the alarm and all hell would break loose. The man was tall and wide-shouldered. He had shaggy black hair.
I’ve come to take you home, the man said.
Home. That sucked the air out of her. Did she have a home? It wasn’t here, in exile. She wasn’t sure it was at Blade’s house with the team. I don’t know where that is.
Bastion is your home.
Yeah, that was fucked on more levels than she could count. Instead of accepting that, she changed the subject. Is he well?
Yes. Do you need a hand with your things?
No. Where is everyone?
They are in a pleasant state of suspended animation. Once we’re in the air, they will be returned to normal.
Where are we going?
You’ll see when we get there.
She grabbed her phone to text her team, but her phone was dead. I need to let my team know.
Not yet.
Selena moved away from the window, toward the duffel bag that sat next to her door. She’d been packed every since Liege said he’d send for her. Going with Bastion’s friend was a huge leap of faith. What if he wasn’t Bastion’s friend at all? How did she know she could trust him?
Her door opened, startling her. The man from outside stood there, filling her doorway. He had blue eyes—almost electric-blue eyes. And pale white skin with a mustache and goatee. He grabbed her bag and gave her a smile. “The chopper’s gonna run out of fuel while you stand here ruminating. You’ll be safe where I’m taking you. We’re all safe and can be trusted.”
And just like that, she followed him out of her room, down the stairs, and out of the house. She wasn’t moving on her volition—who takes the word of a bad guy when he says he’s safe? No, this was more like she was forced to go with him.
When they were settled and on their way, she worried again about Jax and Nick. The household at Addy’s were used to Selena hiding out in her room. No one would even think to go looking for her until dinner—they’d be beside themselves then. “What’s your name?”
“Acier.”
Acier. That wasn’t a name she remembered hearing in any of the convos she’d had with her team about Bastion and Legion. A frisson slipped down her spine. What if she’d been coerced into going with him?
“Be at peace, Selena. Bastion did send me.”
That did nothing to calm her nerves. “Do you know what’s going on?”
“Yes.” Humor made crinkles appear next to his eyes. “I have all the answers, but they aren’t mine to give. You’ll have to ask Bastion your questions.”
After that, Acier quit talking. Selena settled for watching outside as the helicopter flew over spiky mountain ridges.
A while later, the helicopter landed on a field out on the plains, near an adobe fort. The whole northern horizon was shrouded in a black cloud. Rather forbidding, if you took that sort of thing as an omen.
She grabbed her bag and got out. The chopper blades were kicking up dirt and bitterly cold air that burned her cheeks and nose.
Ducking, she jogged away from it, toward the massive building—the only dwelling in sight. She wasn’t quite to the covered parking area when the helicopter took off. The silence it left in its wake was loud. She looked at Acier, who gestured toward a huge blue gate—the only entrance on this side of the fort. The big doors opened outward as she approached, though she couldn’t see anyone operating them. Inside, a short tunnel opened onto a wide courtyard. No one was there. The gate closed behind her with a thunderous rumble. She looked back, but Acier was gone.
What was this place? Bastion was here. She could feel him. A door on her right opened. She went through it to a kitchen—a cavernous thing that made the big kitchen at her team’s headquarters seem tiny.
In the middle of the room, near a table and a kiva fireplace, a man stood alone. Bastion. He had on a white tee and jeans that were cut open from his ankles to his knees, baring the two black walking boots he wore. He leaned on a pair of long crutches. His thick, wild dark brown hair hung in rough waves to his shoulders. His beard was long and bushy, his mustache trimmed around his lips.
Their gazes met. His dark irises were small in his big eyes, giving him a soulful look. She felt the tremor that slipped through him. Was he real? Was this just another projection of him? Would he disappear if she touched him?
Selena dropped her bag and lingered near the door as waves of emotions trampled through her mind. They’d had months of time together, but he’d stolen all of her memories of that time. She doubted he would have ever released them had he not been injured.
“That is true,” he said. “I would not have—at least, not without being with you when they came back.”
He knew everything about her, even the secret things that she didn’t share with anyone.
“We all carry our own shame. It was not my intent to overstep, but I couldn’t leave you alone in your hell that night.”
“You stole my privacy, my freedom. You helped yourself to everything about me. You took my team away. Probably my job as well. I have nothing, because of you.”
Selena glared at him, angry and scared, relieved and hopeful—a contentious mix of emotions that had been brewing for months. She crossed the room, stopping a couple of feet from him, close enough to breathe in his scent, that strange mix of soap and clover and his own sweet musk.
“Your poem was sweet, but not sweet enough to undo all you’ve done.”
“I merely wished to replace a negative with a positive. I’m sorry for how we began.”
“We haven’t begun. We are nothing.”
Her heart beat hard. She tore her gaze from his as she moved around him in a wide circle. He held still, letting her look him over. When she stood in front of him again, she poked him. He was solid. Her memories were still so scrambled, but she could only think of the one time that he’d let her see him physically. It was that night after Max’s wedding. He disappeared then. He might now.
She reached a hand out, flattening it on his chest. He didn’t move away, didn’t speak, didn’t reach for her. He waited, yielding to her, giving her all the moves.
The rumble of his heart matched the rhythm of hers. She met his eyes again, then stepped closer, closer, touching her body to his. How many times had she done this in her daydreams? She moved her hand up his wide chest to slip around the back of his neck. His dense mane warmed her cold fingers. A muscle bunched in the corner of his jaw. His eyes never left hers, but he leaned close, bending down to meet her halfway.
Selena blinked. He was real. He was here. She wanted to kiss him, which was unfathomable to her. How could she desire a man who didn’t respect her?
“I do respect you,” he said. “I did what is now my nature to do.”
“To destroy?”
“To observe. Do you hate the sun for the cancer it causes or love it for the life it provides?” he asked.
“I don’t love you.”
He nodded. “I don’t love myself, either.”
“Tell me something.” She pinned him with her eyes, watching for a tell that would give away his lies. “Were you using me?”
“Yes.”
“So none of this was about us?” They were an “us,” despite her denying it earlier. They’d shared…something…even if she didn’t quite know what it was.
“All of it was about us. Every moment. I offer myself for you to use as well.”
“I don’t use people. Whe
re do you get these notions?”
He tapped his head. “It’s all scrambled in here. I only know that I need you like I need air, that if the only way we could be together was for me to keep hiding myself from you, I would still be doing it.”
“My needs be damned?”
He shut his eyes. Miles and miles separated their stances on everything, but still she craved him. She stood on tiptoes, touching her mouth to his. His eyes shot open, but he didn’t disappear.
The only sound he made was a low growl as he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him, taking over the kiss. She felt the wiry fur of his beard and mustache, liking and disliking it. His lips brushed hers. Any time she tried to drive the kiss, he broke contact, only to make it again, moving his focus from her whole mouth to the corner, then opening his mouth so their tongues could touch.
She didn’t care who owned the kiss; she just wanted more of him. Later, she could teach him that she wasn’t a passive lover.
After a minute, he smiled against her mouth, still keeping their bodies tight as he eased her back to the ground. She hadn’t been aware he’d lifted her past her tiptoes. She wasn’t a short woman; most men weren’t able to sweep her off her feet.
He leaned his face against hers. “You think to teach me how to love you?”
“Maybe. Depends on how teachable you are.”
“Come upstairs. We’ll get a baseline.”
Selena pulled away, then stepped back—and saw his crutches standing next to him, all on their own. This new reality—his reality—was something she’d never get used to.
“What happened?” She nodded at the boots he wore. “I felt your pain. And then I didn’t. I tried to reach you, but I couldn’t.”
Bastion’s lips thinned. “I lost my head and forgot my training. Your team set an excellent trap. Bear traps, to be specific.”
Selena hissed as her memory of his pain hit her again.
He winced. “I’m sorry I caused you pain.”
“But you’re okay.”
“I am. I’ll be back to running in no time.”
“And the guys? You didn’t hurt them?”
“Non, I did not hurt your friends. Well, not much, anyway.”
Selena rubbed her chest, soothing the tightness that had been there for so long. Bastion moved her hand aside and set his hand on her chest. Heat and an odd sense of ease moved from his palm, slipping inside her body. She covered his hand with hers.
“Be calm, Selena. We do not mean you or your team harm.”
“What is this place?”
“It’s our fort.”
“Where are we?”
“Northeastern Colorado.”
She took her phone out of her pocket, forgetting it was out of juice. “I really need to call my team.”
“Your phone will not work until we allow it.”
Selena’s eyes narrowed. “My first loyalty is to my team.”
“Not anymore. Your first loyalty is to me.”
Selena shook her head. “Yeah, your lessons are going to take some time.”
“Selena,” a man said from the kitchen door.
She turned to face him. He was tall, black, and had an air of authority. “I can show you to your room, if you like. Once you’re settled, we can decide what’s next. It’s time our teams met in person.”
“So you’re done spying on us?” Selena asked, but Liege was already leaving the room and did not respond.
She picked up her bag. Bastion stopped her. “Selena—tell him you want my room.” He grinned at her.
“Not happening, Bastion.”
“But you just kissed me.”
“Did I?” She frowned and shook her head. “I can’t remember. I have a hard time keeping any memories, it seems.” She followed Liege across the short entry tunnel, into a glass corridor and up a set of stairs.
Liege turned the corner to the right and opened a door. “Make yourself comfortable. Bastion’s room is just there.” He pointed to the last room on the north hallway to the left.
Selena looked inside, but stayed where she was. “I haven’t decided if I’m staying.”
“Do as you wish. At least you have a room of your own while you’re here.”
“You aren’t going to make me stay here?”
“Why would I?”
Selena was unconvinced. She was a captured pawn. They both knew it.
“Get yourself settled, then come back down to the kitchen. We need to talk.” Liege left her alone outside her room.
22
She went inside and dropped her bag on the king-sized bed. The room was austere. The walls were the same peachy-beige stucco as the rest of the fort. A white-linen duvet cover was spread over the bed with a beige wool throw folded at the foot of the bed. Three rows of different-sized pillows in more white linen were lined up like soldiers at the head of the bed. A set of antique wooden doors, brown and weathered, framed the end of the bed. Really, the headboard was the only decoration in the bland room. Hotel rooms had more sense of style. Two nightstands with lamps flanked the bed. A set of single-paned double French doors let light in and opened to a terrace.
Selena walked into the closet, then into the big bathroom. Not much to see in either space, except for the fact that both rooms were obviously designed for large humans, given the height of the ceilings and fixtures. She made use of the restroom, then washed her hands and face. For a moment, she stared at the water slipping through her fingers. This day had not gone as she’d expected.
Nor had her life, for that matter.
She plugged her phone in. Hopefully after the coming convo in the kitchen, it would have enough power to make a call. She shoved her hands into her jeans, unsure what to do with herself. No point hiding. She’d better get down to the kitchen to hear them out. Kit and the rest of her team would go bonkers once they discovered she was missing, so hopefully she could reach them first.
She paused with her hand on her doorknob, remembering her visceral reaction to Bastion just a few minutes ago. She’d had no control over herself. She’d had to touch him. Kissing him seemed the only thing she could have done at just that moment, after seeing he was alive and healing. She needed to get her head on straight and get a lock on her emotions. She was alone in unknown territory—best make the most of it so she could bring good intel back to her team.
Her composure resolved, she left her room and went around the bend in the hallway. As she reached the stairs, Bastion’s door opened and a wheelchair came out. By itself. Moving on its own locomotion, it turned down the hallway but didn’t take the stairs—because what self-running wheelchair did that? As far as Selena could tell, it wasn’t motorized, so she had no idea how it was moving. But after seeing all the tricks Bastion had pulled while she was at her team’s headquarters, this didn’t surprise her. Much.
She followed it past the stairs, down a short hallway, down another hallway, and into a vestibule with an elevator. The smell of laundry detergent was strong. She could hear machines running in an area behind a door.
Such a human activity in a house of altered reality.
The elevator opened. The chair entered. Selena followed it. A button lit up. A moment later, the doors opened and the chair went out of the vestibule and into the kitchen.
Four men sat around the kitchen table. A fire was lit in the kiva fireplace, giving that area of the cavernous room a cozy feel. She wanted to make a joke about the pet wheelchair, but their serious expressions nixed that idea.
Selena made eye contact with each of the men, sizing them up, searching them for signs of malice—toward her or her team—especially after Bastion’s injuries.
She found no ill will in them, which was terribly confusing. The men stood as she approached the table. A seat was open at the opposite end of the table from Liege, kitty-corner to Bastion.
He smiled at her. “You followed my chair.”
“It seemed the thing to do,” Selena said.
“We are going to
show you our silo,” Bastion told her. “Guerre said I still need to rest my legs, so it appears I must use the chair on our tour.”
Selena met his dark gaze, wondering if she should apologize for what her team did to him.
“No apology is needed,” Bastion said. “I behaved as an enemy. Their strategy was magnificent. Makes me admire them all the more.”
“Selena,” Liege said, “you are among friends here. You cannot shield yourself from us, so there’s no point trying.”
“This is my team,” Bastion said. “They are pretty, non? One is not here, but he is not pretty.”
Pretty wasn’t the word she would have used. Lethal would have better described them. They were like fallen angels—broad shoulders, strong hands, taut judgment hardening their eyes.
“There is mon capitain, Liege. Next to me is Guerre. He’s our healer. There is Acier, whom you met. He’s our weapons maker. Mes amis, this is Selena, my light,” he told the group.
“Back up, Bastion. I’m no one’s light, whatever the hell that is.”
His smile was tinged with sorrow. “It is what it is, Selena.”
Liege cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. “As you may be aware, we’ve been monitoring your team for months. It’s time we meet to share what we know about our common enemy, the Omni World Order.”
“Okay,” Selena said, not as convinced as he was.
“I understand you have access to two scientists, Nathan and Joyce Ratcliff, who are themselves modified,” Liege said.
“I don’t, but some on my team do.”
Liege nodded. “We have secure facilities for them here, which you’ll see in a few minutes. You may be aware that the Omnis are taking their scientists off grid, possibly terminating them.”
“We are aware of that,” Selena said. “I need to check in with my team.”
“You do,” Liege said. “But first, we need to show you our labs. And some of the new challenges your team may not have encountered yet.”
Bastion got up from the table. He leaned heavily on his crutches as he moved to his wheelchair, which was parked behind him. Selena could feel the pain he tried to hide from her. He met her gaze, chasing the pain away with other thoughts that made her mouth go dry.
Bastion: O-Men: Liege’s Legion Page 19
