Lance doesn’t say anything, but he and Brandon clearly don’t like it. Still, they get in the back of the truck along with Tym as I get behind the wheel. Closing the door, I look out at the farmer, who looks as scared as he does determined to protect his family. Admirable . . . and foolish. There’s no way he can stop the forces coming for him.
“Mr. White, if you change your mind, we’ll camp south of here, near the village. It’s the most direct path between you and your enemies.”
I pull away before he can respond, checking the sun. We’ve got about an hour to make camp and find food . . . and I need to figure out our next step.
“Fuck.”
Chapter 20
Cerena
My guys are asleep, and I’m walking a slow perimeter of our small campsite when I hear footsteps in the darkness on the road. Reaching for my sword, my hand relaxes as I see a woman approach in the moonlight, the dress and body shape familiar as she comes down the road.
“Mrs. White,” I greet her in a quiet voice. “A little late for a walk to the village, isn’t it? Even a mile and a half can be dangerous after dark.”
“I came to speak with you,” Mrs. White says. “If you are willing?”
“Is your husband going to shoot me with a shotgun if I say yes?”
Mrs. White shakes her head, chuckling a little. “No. Although he might want to shoot me if he knew I’d snuck out to come talk with you. He thinks I’m heading over the ridge to talk to Jenny Staley. They’ve got a croupy infant that I’ve been helping her with. And a mile and a half is nothing if you know what you’re doing.”
This woman has guts, I’ll give her that. Either that, or she’s got a Gauss pistol under her dress and knows how to use it. More likely the former. I turn around, walking with her back toward the fire and the truck. We’re parked right on the side of the narrow road leading back to the village, on purpose for once. While I know it’s not the safest deployment, I promised Mr. White that I’d be available if he wanted to talk.
I didn’t expect his wife to be the one to join us.
“Have a seat,” I tell her as we come close to the fire. “Don’t worry about the men. They’re just sleeping until it’s time to keep watch.”
“You speak about them with affection,” Mrs. White says as she settles in, looking over at Tym, Lance, and Brandon. “I read between the lines, even if Anton didn’t. You’ve taken them as your own.”
“I have. Does that surprise you?”
Mrs. White looks the guys over, then shakes her head. “No . . . they each have their own appeal. I’d say the big one would do the best around here, but feeding a body that size, phew. I’m glad Anton’s relatively average.”
“Relatively?” I ask, and Mrs. White nods. “So you think I’m not insane.”
“I think there are more things on this Earth than can be explained in the holos I studied as a child,” she says quietly, picking up a twig and stirring the dirt. “Anton won’t say it, but it’s my line that traces directly back to Solace. My great-grandfather was a Hunter, first generation out of the shelter. I guess you know that already.”
“I only knew the bloodline,” I answer. “I didn’t know what led him out here.”
“Oh, pretty much what gets most men to change their ways. The love of a woman,” Mrs. White says, smiling a little. “My grandmother was . . . well, she was quite the young beauty, according to my grandfather. And once he saw her, out on a regular patrol up here back when the winter stalkers were more trouble than they are now, it was like they say, love at first sight. They were drawn together and loved each other very, very much until they passed on in bed of old age.”
“How old, may I ask?”
“Seventy-five, both of them,” Mrs. White says, smiling when she sees my shocked reaction. “This isn’t Solace, young Lightmoon. Life out here is tougher than you might imagine. Though honestly, my grandfather was in perfect health when he went to bed the night he died. I honestly think he woke up, realized his wife was lying in bed next to him, dead . . . and he just decided he’d had enough.”
“Sounds like the way I’d like to go,” I respond honestly, looking as Tym turns over in his sleep. “So you think my words are true?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Mrs. White says, nodding when I offer her a cup of water. “Thanks. Though I should have brought some tea leaves. This area has a very nice natural tea, better than filtered water.”
“Ever had coffee?” I ask, thinking of the Solace version. Sure, it’s not real coffee. Like all Solace foods, it’s pretty much bio-engineered algae, but it supposedly tastes the same.
“Once,” she says, chuckling. “Too bitter.”
We talk quietly for a few minutes, nothing really important, just sharing experiences and feeling each other out. It’s the sort of thing I’ve never been good at, the feminine dance where we gain the measure of other women through seemingly innocuous conversation. I’d much rather just throw a side kick and see if you can block it or not.
But Mrs. White’s not the type of person for that sort of thing. Instead, we talk about everything from the weather to my favorite kind of meal. Finally, she touches on something that pierces me deeply. “So, how did you handle it when your parents died? I mean, inside?”
“I trained,” I reply quietly, wondering how I could phrase it better, but I don’t think I can. “Edward was the Elder in charge, of course, and he became my guardian, but that didn’t mean much. I trained and turned my pain into fuel for my training. He went to sleep before I turned ten and just barely woke up before I finished the Academy.”
“So you never really confronted the pain,” Mrs. White says, and I nod. “That must have been hard.”
“My life changed that day,” I admit. “Childhood ended for me, at least in my mind. Every morning, I woke up and pushed myself to focus more, to be better . . . to be the best. I remember one of my mentors asking me a question. How can you run faster than possible, punch harder than possible, and keep going when every piece of evidence says they shouldn’t be able to?”
“Love,” Mrs. White says immediately, smiling when I look over in shock. “For a long time, you thought it was anger, didn’t you?”
“That and fear,” I admit. “And I’m angry and afraid now, too. Edward lied to me for years.”
“And your former colleagues, the Hunters, are now coming after you,” Mrs. White says, smirking when I give her a double-take. “You were circumspect, maybe enough that Anton didn’t put it together, but I remember the stories from my mother. The Academy doesn’t authorize operations like this, and they certainly wouldn’t send just a single Huntress with three men out here to protect my daughter regardless of what bad elements are in their ranks. So you’re a traitor too, now.”
“No,” I reply quietly, emotion filling my words. “I might be an outcast. I might be hunted by the Hunters . . . but I’m loyal to the Hunter’s Oath.”
“Is that so?” Mrs. White asks, smirking, and I nod. “And does that mean protecting my daughter, or does it mean killing her? Especially if it means the fate of the entire world rests on her bloodline?”
“I’ll never harm a hair on her head,” I promise. “Nor the men with me. If we’re going to defeat Bane and his allies, we need to be better than them.”
Mrs. White finishes her water and stands up. “Be more careful when you have to go to the village for supplies. While the Hunters are not popular in this area, the village will not want any trouble with Solace. If it comes down to picking between you and the Hunters . . . they’ll choose the Hunters.”
“And what will you choose?” I ask, but Mrs. White walks away without answering me. I’m tempted to go after her, but a little voice inside me tells me that chasing her down would be detrimental to our goal.
Instead, I walk to the back of the truck and sit down on the bumper, not fully relaxing but instead focusing my eyes on a stone on the ground. I try to move it again, just a little. I start to explore more emotional plane
s, and Mrs. White’s words come to me.
Love.
Is that what I’m missing?
What the hell, it’s worth a try. Reaching inside me, I search for feelings of love, for those attachments that are so important to me. I think of my parents, of Lily . . . and as I think of the three men sleeping behind me, I see the stone start to move.
“I—”
“You made a mistake.”
I see Brandon standing at the corner of the truck, his arms crossed over his bare chest. His eyes are sparking in anger, visible even in the moonlight.
“What mistake?” I ask, my good feelings evaporating in his gaze.
“Telling her that we wouldn’t hurt her family,” Brandon says quietly, vehemently. “The safety of Earth is more important than a single little girl’s life.”
“No, fuck that,” I reply, immediately pissed. “That isn’t the way things work. Even when I was a Huntress, my job was to preserve human life as much as I could.”
“Exactly,” Brandon points out. “As much as you could. Don’t tell me you’ve never killed a human except in self-defense. You’ve killed plenty of all types, I’m sure.”
“And?” I ask, my anger growing in the damning gaze. “Don’t try to come off as sanctimonious, Brandon. Yeah, I’ve spilled a lot of blood. But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to just go merrily trotting down the dark path because it’s easier. Before this is done, I’m going to spill a lot more. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to spill innocent blood.”
“You may have to.”
“Bullshit,” I growl. “If I thought like that, I’d have let Lance kill you back when he had a chance in the hospital. Or after seeing you resurrect, or when you passed the fuck out after using your powers. But I didn’t. I saved you, and I saved you for a reason.”
“What reason is that?” Brandon asks, grabbing me and pushing me against the truck. His hands are hard, strong, and I can feel the anger, fear, and more radiating off him. Slowly, though, his look changes, and his eyes burn with a different need. “What reason?”
I swallow and reach up, cupping his face. “Because I need you.”
Brandon’s eyes flare, and his fingers tighten for a moment before loosening a little. He kisses me, his tongue entwining with mine as he pushes me against the edge of the truck, our bodies pressing together.
I tug on his shirt, lifting it up and running my hands over his lean torso, tracing the hard muscles of his stomach and chest. Brandon’s hands are on my hips, pushing my leathers down until I can feel the cool metal siding of the truck against my ass.
“Turn around,” Brandon says, his voice not rough but not gentle. We’re moving together, and the back of the truck is perfect for us as I bend over, presenting my ass and pussy to him. “Fuck, you’re so . . . round.”
I chuckle, wiggling my ass at him. “Back home, they’d call it thick. If you liked the girl.”
“Then you’re fucking thick,” he growls, rubbing his hand over my ass. “But I want something different this time.”
“What?” I ask worriedly. I’ve had Lance in my ass, and I loved it . . . but Brandon’s thicker, if not quite as long. He’d stretch me larger than I’ve ever imagined, but . . .
“I want us to not fight on this,” Brandon growls in my ear as he slips two fingers into my pussy. “This time . . . truce?”
His fingers find my G-spot and starts stroking it, making wetness gush from my pussy as I nod, looking back at him. “No fight. I just need you.”
Brandon’s smile is all I need to know, and he slides a third finger inside me, pumping them in and out. I bend over, letting him have me, and he pushes me down into the back of the truck, his fingers speeding up.
“That’s it, Cerena . . . I can feel your pussy squeezing me,” Brandon rumbles in my ear, his body pressed against my side. He kisses my shoulder, biting down just enough to make me moan and clench around his fingers, making him hum. “That’s it. I have you, you’re safe with me.”
“I know,” I whisper, turning to look at him. He leans in, and we kiss, our lips as soulful as his fingers are sexual between my legs. I can feel his hand push deeper and deeper into me. He’s stretching me almost with every thrust, and I can’t take much more. “Brandon . . . please fuck me. I want to come on your cock, baby.”
His smile lights up the night, and he pulls back, getting behind me. The sound of his hand unbuckling his belt while his other hand stays buried in my pussy, his fingers fluttering and stroking every hot button inside me, nearly pushes me over the edge, and I want to scream. Fuck me, Brandon! Don’t tease me, just take that thick cock of yours and fuck me until I’m insane!
Brandon seems to sense my thoughts and hums happily. “Your pussy is beautiful in the moonlight.”
I whimper, already aching and empty when he withdraws his fingers and runs them up my back, my wetness slicking over my skin until he reaches my neck and grabs ahold. “I’m not going to tease you . . . but you are beautiful.”
His cock rams home deep with one hard thrust, his hips slapping against my ass, and I’m blown apart, coming hard around him with just a single stroke. I cry out my climax as he freezes, feeling my pussy pulse and throb around him.
“Fuck, you’re the best,” Brandon whispers, pulling back until he’s just barely at my entrance. He pauses, then strokes in slowly, savoring every inch of his cock sinking into me and making me push back, eager for more. “You still want it?”
“I want you. Yes!” I cry softly as he slams home the last two inches.
“You can be a real bitch sometimes,” Brandon growls as he starts pounding me hard and deep. “But I like that. Never fucking stop.”
He’s never called me that before, but I love it. I’m not going to stop, and instead, I squeeze him, milking his cock with my pussy as I swirl my hips, grinding against him and focusing on giving him as much as he can take.
Sweat trickles down my forehead, stinging my eyes as Brandon speeds up, pushing my hips against the hard metal of the back of the truck, pleasure and pain in a heady mix as Brandon punishes my pussy.
I feel him swell, and I tighten around him, trembling on the edge of coming another time but wanting to feel him as well. “Please, Brandon.”
“Cerena!” Brandon yells, thrusting as deep as he can into me and exploding. I fall apart, my climax rocking me from toes to fingertips, a sob of pleasure and release coursing through me as his hot cum fills me.
I clench around him, holding him inside me as he finishes his eruption, the hot wetness of his cum already dribbling down my inner thigh. It feels amazing, organic and messy and . . . honest.
“Wow,” I whisper as Brandon pulls me up. I try to turn, but his cock’s still inside me, still hard, and instead, he lays me back down, turning me over on the bed of the truck without withdrawing fully. On my back, I look up into his eyes, which are still clear, a smile on his face. “What are you doing?”
“Last time was for you,” Brandon says, pulling me closer and wrapping his hands around my thighs. “This time is for me. Hold on, Cerena . . . because I’m not going to stop until I’m finished.”
I grin and wrap my legs around his hips. “That’s what I’m hoping for.”
Chapter 21
Lance
“I’ve got an idea,” I mention a little bit after lunch. There isn’t much to do besides sit by the side of the road, recharge the batteries on the truck, sharpen our weapons, and see if we can gather some supplies.
Not that we can’t do some sharpening. Cerena’s new swords came from the blacksmith with what I like to call a ‘workman’s edge.’ They’re sharp enough to cut grass, and if someone wants to hack at a regular predator or even a man, they’ll do the job.
But to someone with the blade skills that I have, or Cerena has, they’re not much better than a butter knife. Which is why I’ve been using my sharpening stone on her one sword for the past two hours while she’s kept the other and the crossbow to take care of some hunting.
/> Thankfully, game around here is easy, and a nearby grove of trees provides plenty of dead branches, leaves, and other stuff to make a fire. Also, so far, nobody’s fucked with us. That’s what Tym and Cerena are doing, fetching water and gathering wood for later tonight.
Actually, other than needing ammo for my Gauss pistols, we’re in the best shape we’ve been in since we left Solace.
“An idea for what?” Brandon asks, sounding a lot calmer than he did two nights ago. I didn’t say anything. He definitely needed his one-on-one time with Cerena, but since their time against the back of the truck, he’s been very chill.
I think that, despite what Cerena does for me, she does even more for Brandon inside. And for once in my life, I’m not jealous. He needs it, and it makes him a complete person.
“For getting Sienna,” I continue as I draw the blade over the sharpening stone. A few more minutes of this, and I’ll shift over to our utility knives. We all carry them, and while Tym and Cerena can put a decent edge on theirs, I know my skills are a lot better.
In fact, when I’m done with their knives, Tym and Brandon will be able to shave those rat’s nests they call beards off their faces without nicking a single pore.
Too bad I’m naturally smooth-cheeked. Actually, not too bad . . . Cerena likes me with smooth cheeks. I can tell.
“You’ve got a plan for getting Sienna?”
I nod, stroking the steel against the stone. “Sure do. Listen, what do parents fear more than anything else?”
Brandon, who’s practicing his spear technique, stops and looks over at me incredulously. “You’re asking me, the guy who can’t even remember his teen years, what parents fear? Shit, man, I’m not a parent. Wait, am I a parent?”
“I don’t think so,” I reply honestly, musing. “If you were, I think Elizabeth would have mentioned it back in Bane. And before your rebirth, you certainly didn’t mention anything.”
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