by Kallysten
"If that's right, we're getting closer,” she said, a little breathless.
"If,” Marc repeated. “Let's not get too hopeful."
The truck slowed down and soon came to a halt. Daniel jumped out first, rambling about changing his plans and continuing along the street Kate's team had been following that night. Marc hurried after him, arguing again for caution. Kate stood and waited as the rest of the soldiers climbed out of the truck. Blake caught her hand just as she was about to follow them. She tried to pull away, but he held on until she turned to him.
"Let go,” she said. Small, angry lines pulled at the corners of her mouth. They disappeared along with her frown when Blake obeyed.
"Did you think about it?” he asked, tilting her head to one side and smiling.
Her body tensed and uncertainty flickered over her face. She had thought about it, Blake thought, his smile deepening, even if she tried to play coy.
"Think about what?"
"You know what."
He raised his hand to her face, but she leaned back, avoiding his touch. She didn't step away, though, he noticed with some satisfaction.
"What I know,” she said, her voice shaking a little, “is that you're making fun of me. I thought we were friends—"
Blake's smile wavered. “Wait. What? How am I making fun of you?"
She crossed her arms and glared. “I know you like men,” she said slowly. “So whatever little game you think you can play with me, I'm not interested."
He should have made things clearer from the start, he realized. It didn't matter, though, not when Kate had just given him his counterattack.
"Does that mean you'd be interested if I liked women?” he asked, trying to remain very serious.
She blinked. Her arms fell to each side of her. “Another game—"
"Not a game,” he assured her, sliding just a little closer to her. He dropped his voice very low, almost to a whisper. “I like women just as much as I do men. And I happen to like the woman in front of me very much. Enough that I want to kiss her just about every time I look at her. But I still don't know if she'll let me. Think I should try and see?"
With each of his words, Kate's heartbeat picked up speed until Blake could hear nothing else. The drumming drew him forward toward her parting lips. He pressed his mouth against them and delicately traced her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Her body leaned forward, so faintly she might not even have been conscious of it. Blake rested a hand on her face as he had earlier in the City and deepened the kiss. She shivered when his tongue touched hers, and a quiet moan rose from her throat. She tilted her face and pressed in a little more, stroking his tongue gently. He could feel the warmth of her body even though they barely touched yet. He slid a hand around her waist and pulled her forward. The top of her thigh bumped into his cock, hardening already from the sweet, minty taste of her lips, the heat of her body, the desire spiking in her scent...
She pulled back abruptly. Blake had just the time to frown in confusion before she slapped him. He watched her, saw how flustered she was, and couldn't help chuckling.
"Now, before you say something you'll regret, answer this. You didn't dislike that one bit, did you?"
She blinked several times. Her fists closed at her sides. Bristling, she turned and stalked away, nearly tripping out of the truck in her haste to get away from him. Blake grinned at her departing back. It had gone better than he had expected. Not only had she answered his kiss, she hadn't threatened him or demanded that he stay away from her. Much better than he had hoped.
His smile faded when Marc appeared in front of the truck, arms crossed in front of him.
"Are you coming to hunt?” he asked. His voice, like his features, remained expressionless.
Blake jumped out of the truck and stood by his Sire. “Lead the way, then."
Marc didn't say a word as they walked out of the camp, answering the sentries’ greetings with nods. He also didn't say a word as they ran through the woods that surrounded the camp, following the scent of deer. Only after they had caught their prey, a young male with thin, white antlers, and each drank their fill from its blood, did he finally say what was on his mind.
Standing up to his full height in front of Blake, he spoke with slow yet strong words. “You will leave her alone, Childe."
Blake had been waiting for something of the sort. He forced himself not to react, even as his fears were confirmed.
"If she asks me to, I will,” he replied, meeting Marc's eyes without flinching. “Until then, you stay out of it."
Marc took a half step forward until only a couple inches separated them. “I'm warning you, Blake—"
"Warning me?” Blake cut in with a dry laugh. “And what will you do if I don't listen? Leave me behind?"
For the first time, Marc didn't flinch at the reminder of the past that Blake couldn't forget, try as he might.
"I won't leave.” The beginning of a growl echoed in his words. “I'll kick your ass and remind you who sired you."
This time, Blake laughed aloud. “Kick my—"
The punch took him by surprise, catching him right in the gut and leaving him to clutch his middle for a few seconds. When he straightened again, his fangs had extended again in his mouth. With slow, deliberate movements, he unfastened his scabbard's harness and pulled it off his shoulders. Never taking his eyes off Marc, he rested the scabbard, with Seneca still inside it, against the deer they had killed together. Marc imitated him, unbuckling the scabbard from his belt and throwing it aside. It had been a long time since they had fought—really fought, as opposed to sparred or played. Blake had no doubt how things would end this time again; three centuries made quite a difference in a vampire's speed and strength. Just the same, he cracked his knuckles and balled up his fists. If Marc thought a few blows would be enough to take Blake's mind off Kate—to make him forget just how protective of her Marc was—he was in for quite a disappointment.
Baring his teeth, Blake growled and launched the first blow.
* * * *
Kate had thought that a shower would help clear her reeling mind before she went to bed. If anything, it did the exact opposite. She wasted her precious few minutes of hot water simply looking at the thin bar of soap in her hand. The lavender scent filled the stall, reminding her of Blake. What had he been up to? Was it all his way of messing with her head, or was there any truth to his words? He had said he liked her. He had kissed her.
And she had kissed him back.
She touched her lips with her fingertips at the memory, her vision blurring.
If she was honest with herself, she could admit that she had started using the lavender soap when she remembered that vampires had such a keen sense of smell. She had expected Marc to notice, however, not Blake. She had imagined Marc kissing her, not Blake. She had a crush on Marc, not Blake.
Or did she?
The water turned cold, and she yelped. In her haste to shut off the spray, she dropped the soap. Shivering, she watched it slide on the white tiles and follow the last of the water to the drain. She started leaning down to pick it up but somehow ended up sitting on the floor of the stall, her arms wrapped around her knees. With her eyes, she followed the grout line of the small hexagonal tiles in front of her toes.
Only one other stall was occupied: Sky's. The water shut off abruptly, and the door creaked open. Wet footsteps moved around the room. Then Sky dressed and left. Kate barely noticed any of it.
At her feet, the line seemed to meander without clear goal, like her thoughts. She knew getting too close to anyone in the squad was a bad idea. It didn't matter if it was a vampire or human; the simple fact that they fought side by side made the whole thing dangerous. It could only be worse to have a third person involved.
Of their own accord, her fingers returned to her lips. She could hardly remember the last time she had kissed anyone. It had been back when half the squad had been granted a few days of leave and they had gone to Claremont. Alcohol was sup
posed to be outlawed, but small underground bars operated throughout the city. She had gone to one of them on her own, dressed as a woman, for once, rather than a fighter. She had decided not to be too picky, but she had found a fresh-faced young man who talked about joining the army that defended the city. She had listened to him for hours, hearing his voice more than she did his words. Alcohol had blurred her senses, and what had happened, after she had asked him where he lived, remained clouded in her mind. She thought she had kissed him first. She wasn't sure anymore.
"Kate?” Daniel called. “You in here?"
She jumped, startled, and bumped the back of her head to the wall behind her. Scrambling to her feet, she peaked over the stall door. Daniel was standing at the threshold of the bathroom, his back turned to her.
"What is it?” she called back, biting back her annoyance. What was so important that it couldn't wait?
"Come by my office when you're done, OK?"
Before she could reply or ask what this was about, she heard the bathroom door shut with a bang. She remained frozen in the stall, a single thought obliterating everything else. Daniel knew about the kiss. Someone must have seen her and Blake, and he knew. He was going to remind her where her duty lay. He might change her assignment or even forbid her from socializing with Blake. Once the flash of guilt that she had disappointed her leader had faded away, she realized she felt relieved. It would solve everything, she thought as she dried herself and slid into fresh clothes. She wouldn't need to try and sort out her feelings. It wouldn't matter whether she had a crush on anyone once she was under direct orders not to act on them. Her relief, however, was short lived.
"Well?” Daniel said, leaning forward over his desk. “What do you think?"
She slunk into the seat of the armchair, not quite meeting his eyes. “I ... I don't know."
His eyebrows drew closer together, his boyish excitement from only a minute earlier vanishing. “Come on, Kate. If we're getting closer to the breach, we'll encounter more demons. It makes more sense to stay together."
Had he wanted her opinion, she wondered, or had he just been too excited to wait until morning to share his new plan?
She picked at a piece of lint on her pants, then brushed her palms on her thighs. “I guess it does,” she said at last. “And I suppose you'll lead the group, then, yes?"
At his nod, she continued. “Then maybe ... I mean ... I've been rather tired lately and ... Maybe I could take a few nights off. You'll have enough fighters without me."
He stared at her for so long that she started fidgeting on her chair, crossing her legs then uncrossing them again.
"You want to sit it out?” he said incredulously. “We might be days from the end of the fight—"
"There are other breaches,” she cut in, more abruptly that she would have liked. “I'll have other chances."
She risked meeting his gaze and regretted it at once. His eyes pierced her as they so often did, and she crossed her arms as though it would stop him from reading her like an open book. With a sigh, Daniel sat back in his chair.
"It's about those vamps, isn't it?"
Her body froze, and she swallowed hard. “Of course not,” she said a little too fast.
Daniel sighed again. “I tried to keep the old one away, but the other is too much of a pain, isn't he?"
Kate's denial vanished before she could voice them. Blinking in confusion, she asked, “What do you mean, keep him away?"
He shrugged. “Why do you think I changed the teams?"
"But you said—"
He made a dismissive gesture. “It wasn't about Blake. It was about Marc. I saw the way he looked at you, and I smelled trouble. I should have sent them away. Both of them.
Kate sat up and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of her. “We need them to find the breach!"
"Do we? They don't know where it is any more than we do. And I'd rather look for it with you at my side than them."
Kate had a second to think about it. Daniel was a good leader, and she'd follow him anywhere, but he was wrong. The odds that the squad would find and close the breach were much better with Marc and Blake than without them. She couldn't force him to choose. She was a soldier, she had chosen this life, and a kiss at the back of a truck or a crush on a pretty face didn't change that.
"I'll be by your side.” The strength in her voice matched the determination she projected toward Daniel. She stood, instinctively taking the pose she had learned during her first week of basic training. “It was just my tiredness talking. I'll be better after I sleep. And I'll be there tomorrow night."
Daniel scrutinized her for a long moment before waving her off. He didn't look completely convinced, though he didn't say anything more. Holding on to her new resolve, she retreated to the barracks without once looking toward the back of the building where Marc and Blake slept. It wouldn't be all that hard to avoid them, she told herself as she went to bed. She would simply avoid the common room during the day, and stay close to the other members of the squad at night.
She didn't realize until she fell asleep that she wouldn't be able to hide from them in her dreams. Waking up, still a little groggy, in the middle of the morning didn't help; they both sought her out despite her efforts to avoid them.
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Chapter 12
When Marc trudged out of what passed as his quarters that morning, the startled looks thrown his way didn't surprise him. By vampire standards, getting out of bed before afternoon was the equivalent of waking up in the middle of the night for humans. For that matter, the members of the squad who went on reconnaissance missions at night rarely showed themselves before noon. It wasn't until he sat at a table with a cup of strong insta-coffee to clear his mind that he realized why the soldiers were staring at him. The murmurs behind him tried to be discreet, but he heard them as clearly as though the soldiers had been shouting. He touched his face gingerly, wincing when he found the bruises. They had started healing already, and they didn't really hurt unless he touched them, but he imagined he had to be quite a sight. Blake had mostly hit his face, hoping to mark him, he supposed.
He snorted into his mug, then drank deeply. The marking had happened both ways until they had both been too tired to go on. They had returned to the camp together, carrying the deer between them. They had left it in the cold storage for the cook to find; it would ameliorate a couple of meals for the squad. They had showered in separate stalls, then gone to bed in separate beds. The entire time, they hadn't exchanged a word. Lowering his mug to the table in front of him, he peered into it. Light steam rose from the remains of the drink, seemingly white as snow against the almost black coffee. He blew into the mug, and the tendrils vanished for an instant before rising again, slow and graceful, mocking him. He didn't know if the fight had changed anything. Part of him remained sure that Blake was playing a mean game with Kate. Another part couldn't help but remember Blake's disgust when Marc had accused him of that very thing. Could Blake be serious about her, or was she merely a way to get back at Marc?
He had refilled his mug twice but had still found no answer when Kate entered the building. He had been waiting for her and sat up as he observed her. She stopped at the long table by the kitchen first. Yawning behind her hand, she picked up a plate of eggs, a glass of water, and a cup of coffee, placing each in turn on a tray. When she started for the tables, her eyes met Marc's across the room. She froze mid-step. She looked back behind her at the door. Marc frowned, certain she would leave. Was she trying to avoid him? Why would she?
She wordlessly answered the first part of his question when, squaring up her shoulders, she turned back toward the tables and strode resolutely toward them. Her eyes remained away from Marc, and rather than coming to sit by him, as she had done multiple times since his arrival at the camp, she walked on to the third table, the most crowded one. She sat with her back toward him. On each side of her and across her, soldiers threw her surprised glances.
"How are you, Kate?” the blond man across from her asked.
"All right. Still a bit tired, but Leah snores louder than a freight train."
Chuckles spread around the table.
"Yeah, we've got snorers in the men's barracks, too."
He threw a grin to the man on his left and was cuffed over the head for his trouble.
"Find anything during recon last night?” another soldier asked. Marc thought her name was Vickie.
"Not much. Some demons. A lot of fog."
Disgruntled murmurs answered her this time. They all loathed the fog and what it hid.
"Daniel thinks we're getting close, though,” she added after taking a few bites. “He's merging the teams tonight."
They all looked at her, as interested as Marc felt. Was Daniel truly this optimistic?
"Does that mean more of us will be along for the ride?” the blond man asked, sounding eager.
"I'm not sure. I'll let you know after I talk to Daniel again."
After a while, the soldiers resumed their conversations, and Kate ate in silence. One soldier or two at a time, the table emptied. When the blond man left, Marc stood and went to take his place across from her, taking his half empty mug with him.
"Good morning,” he said as he sat down.
She didn't look up. “Morning."
He watched her eat her eggs, one bite after the other, her movements as regular as clockwork. Something was different about her, and he could only imagine the events of the previous night had something to do with it. Every few seconds, he tried to start the conversation, but the words refused to come out. He had to give her this warning, for her own sake, but he had a feeling she wouldn't like hearing it, and he was afraid to hurt her. He took slow sips from his now cold coffee, finishing it just as she took the last bite from her eggs. He had to speak now, he figured, before she finished her coffee and left the table.
"Kate..."
She still didn't look up. They were alone at the table now, yet Marc kept his voice low so he wouldn't be overheard.
