Crimson

by Jordan Summers

  chapter thirteen

  T

  hey had kept their pace throughout the night. Demery took the lead, while Morgan brought up the rear. All watched for potential ambushes.

  Demery slipped his white protective suit on as the sun peered over the horizon. “It’ll take another day or so to reach the outpost the scout spoke of,” Demery said. “Do you want to keep going or rest?”

  Red looked at Morgan. He tilted his head as if to say it’s up to you. “Let’s go a little farther. I want more distance between us and the Sand Moles.”

  Demery nodded and strode on.

  Movement to the left caught Red’s attention. Something brown scurried over the dune, leaving an S shape in the sand behind it. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing.

  Morgan came forward as Demery stopped. He smiled when he saw what had caught her attention. “It’s a lizard.”

  “I didn’t think there were any of those alive outside of captivity,” she said.

  He grinned at her. “I guess someone should’ve told the little guy.”

  Red watched in fascination. She’d read about lizards and all the other creatures that used to live on Earth before the last war. Most were extinct. The ones that weren’t either lived in captivity or struggled with starvation. But not this small one. It was wild like the animals her grandfather told her stories about. She followed it up over the ridge and watched it disappear inside a tiny hole in the sand.

  “He went in a hole,” she said.

  Morgan laughed. “That’s what they do when a predator is after them.”

  “A predator?” She frowned and glanced around, but didn’t see anything that would eat the small lizard. Red looked back at Morgan, whose smile had grown.

  “Oh, you mean me.” She laughed as she stepped off the dune. It felt good. She hadn’t done much laughing lately.

  He hugged her. “You are amazing,” he said. “You know that?”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Even in the middle of this hellhole, you can still find time to be fascinated by the simplest thing.”

  “Thanks.” She squeezed him back. “I guess I’ve spent enough time terrifying lizards.”

  They trudged on. Sand filled their boots and abraded their faces. They journeyed for another hour without spotting any other signs of life.

  “Do you think they’ll have the equipment we need?” Red asked Morgan as they sat to rest in the shade of a dune.

  “I don’t know. I’m not expecting much,” he said, looking grim. “The good thing is that even if the equipment is old school I should still be able to do something with it.”

  “Old school?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”

  “From my time,” he explained.

  Once again Red was reminded that despite appearances, Morgan was older than her grandfather. “Let’s hope it still works,” she said tartly.

  He grabbed her side and squeezed. Red wiggled away from him before returning to rest her head on his shoulder.

  Demery watched them with something akin to envy in his eyes. “You better get some sleep, mon. We have a lot of miles to travel before we reach the outpost.”

  Red nodded and closed her eyes.

  Morgan waited until Red’s breathing had deepened, before propping her against the pack. He stood stretching his legs and back. Despite exhaustion, sleep evaded him. He’d pulled out Kane’s diaries, but still couldn’t bring himself to listen to them. He was too distracted, too worried.

  The scene from the previous night kept replaying in his head. Gina had shot the leader of the Sand Moles with little to no thought. Something she wouldn’t have done outside of patrol a month and a half ago. Was the wolf changing her or was he to blame?

  The latter thought disturbed Morgan. He’d brought her into a hostile world. She’d been naïve in so many ways, her life sheltered by IPTT. Morgan didn’t want Gina changing because of her association with him. He loved her the way that she was, even before she knew what lurked inside of her. Gina was a brave, fearless, sensual woman. His match in every way.

  Morgan leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. She murmured, but didn’t wake. The wolf lurked close to the surface. So close it was a wonder Gina had been able to control it this long.

  Part of him longed for her to let go, allow the wolf free rein for a while. The wolf in him wanted its mate. Another part of him feared it. What if she couldn’t control herself in her other form? She’d finally controlled a partial shift. It had taken months and Roark trying to kill him to do it, but she’d managed. He’d been so proud of her.

  Morgan didn’t want to take that away, but there was more to being a wolf than just controlling the change. There were responsibilities she’d have to accept if they ever returned to Nuria. Responsibilities he wasn’t sure she’d be happy about. The biggest one would be stepping into the position of alpha female and eventually bearing his young.

  The thought of Gina carrying his child hit Morgan in the gut and slowly rose to sit comfortably on his heart. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture her rounded belly and heavy breasts, her body bursting with new life. Morgan choked on unexpected emotion and had to walk away. The thought was too overwhelming for him to contemplate, when there was a very good chance they wouldn’t make it out of here alive.

  He scanned the horizon. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered why they hadn’t been followed. It could be that killing the leader of the Sand Moles had scared the group into inaction, but it didn’t seem likely.

  People living in no-man’s-land didn’t scare easily. They were used to death hanging around, patiently waiting for one of them to make a mistake. So where were they? Where was the scout? Morgan knew Jeb wasn’t following. He would’ve smelled him.

  “Is there a problem, mon?” Demery asked, lumbering up beside him.

  Morgan rolled his shoulders and squinted behind his sunshades. “Something isn’t right,” he said.

  Demery tilted his head and slowly made a 360-degree turn. “I don’t sense anything,” he said once he’d finished.

  “That’s just it. Why aren’t they following us?” Morgan asked. “We shot their leader. They should’ve at least sent the scout out to keep an eye on us.”

  Demery frowned behind the mask of his protective suit. “You’re right. I haven’t sensed anyone out there. No one behind or up ahead.”

  “Me neither, which is odd.” Morgan scratched his head. “We should be able to sense someone or something. I realize this place is dead, even more so than the republics, but this is something else.” He stared at the sand until his eyes watered.

  Demery continued to scan. “It’s like we are the only living creatures for miles around.”

  Morgan nodded in agreement. “I don’t like it. Feels wrong. Could be a trap.”

  At the word “trap,” Demery stiffened. “You’re being paranoid, mon.”

  “You heard what the scout said. We have a bounty on our heads. I realize that doesn’t include you, but I doubt that would stop anyone from shooting first and asking questions later,” Morgan said.

  “You’re right. I am in danger as long as we’re traveling together.” Demery glanced at Red.

  It was Morgan’s turn to tense. “Is that your way of telling me that you’re going to leave us out here?” he asked.

  “No, mon. I won’t be leaving you yet.” Demery grinned. “Maybe it’s a coincidence we haven’t run into anyone. Try not to look a gift lizard in the mouth,” he said.

  Morgan laughed, but his stomach continued to churn.

  It was late afternoon by the time Red woke. The light had begun to turn the sand crimson and orange. Morgan and Demery were huddled beside her in the shade, sleeping. She stood and stretched, reaching her arms above her head before rolling her shoulders. She crawled to the top of the dune, keeping her head down, so she could peek over and scan the area. There was no movement. Red squinted in the direction they were heading.

  “Hey guys, I think it
flattens out over there,” she said.

  The two men came awake with a start.

  “What?” Morgan asked.

  “I think I see a flat area in the direction we need to go.” Just the thought of being out of these dunes made Red giddy. She had sand in her boots, pants, hair, and teeth. Pretty much any bit of exposed flesh was covered in grit.

  The men rose and joined her on the ridge of the dune. “Have you spotted anything?” Morgan asked.

  “No, no movement.”

  “Then let’s go. The sun will be setting in a few hours,” Morgan said.

  They gathered their equipment and started walking. Just as Red had thought, the dunes gave way to a flat desert valley landscape. The skeletal remains of cactus dotted the area like sentries from the past, their ghostly white bodies a reminder of the fallen. She’d never seen anything more beautiful or more frightening.

  Red stopped to empty her boots. Morgan did the same. Demery didn’t have to worry about it, since sand couldn’t get into his suit during the day. Night was a different story.

  She turned to the vamp. “How much farther?”

  “Another day’s walk from here. We can probably get to within a few miles of the outpost if we walk through the night, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to cross the mountains in the dark. The hiking trails are treacherous and there are a lot of places for people to hide.”

  The craggy ridge of sienna-colored mountains stood majestically in the distance. They appeared small, but Red knew they’d be imposing once they got closer. At this pace it would still take several hours to reach them. “We better get going,” she said. Maybe they’d get lucky and make good time without being spotted. She judged the time before sunset. There was no way they’d make it to the foothills before dark, which meant they’d be sleeping out in the open. Red didn’t like that idea. It left them vulnerable to attack.

  They were two hours into their walk when Red spotted a puff of dust rising in the distance. She squinted, watching the plume grow as it drew closer.

  “Something’s coming,” she shouted, glancing around for a place for them to take cover. There was none. “Stay down,” she said, rushing them toward the mountains.

  She judged the distance between the plume and the mountains and realized they wouldn’t make it, but they had to try. They sprinted, keeping low to the ground. Red had hoped they’d blend with the terrain, until she glanced over at Demery’s white protective suit. It glowed like a beacon against the flat beige desert floor.

  Morgan followed her gaze and cursed under his breath, then ran faster. “We may have to shift,” he shouted over his shoulder.

  Red nodded in understanding, even as her stomach protested. She’d have to stop in order to shift. She wasn’t like Morgan, who could shift in midair. Her process took time and concentration. It must have dawned on Morgan at the same moment because he looked back at her, then around, searching for a place to stop that wasn’t quite so out in the open. There wasn’t one.

  The cloud of dust grew larger. Red could see a glint of metal reflecting off some kind of vehicle. She could also see something else—there was more than one vehicle. There were many, traveling in a convoy. She looked up at the mountains ahead of them. They were closer, too, but not close enough.

  “Shift and get out of here,” she shouted to Morgan.

  He looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

  “We may need your help when these people catch up with us.”

  Demery looked over at the approaching band. “I think I know these people.”

  “You said that last time and look where it got us,” Red said, panting to catch her breath.

  “We were doing fine until you killed the leader,” Demery retorted. He was slower in his suit, which made him still faster than Red and any pureblood around.

  She shot him a sharp glance. “I saved our asses from getting turned over to the authorities.”

  “Well there are a lot more of these guys. We’re out-manned, out-gunned, and out-maneuvered. If this is who I think it is, running won’t help,” Demery said, starting to slow.

  “Who are they?” Red asked, fear coiling in her gut. The vehicles seemed to multiply by the second. Even Morgan looked worried as he pumped his fists harder. His hair had already started to thicken and the muscles in his back and legs began to cord as the change ripped through his body. His clothes tore away, leaving flesh exposed and vulnerable to the unforgiving sun.

  Red’s lungs burned and her side ached like she’d been kicked by a tactical drill sergeant. She wasn’t sure how much farther she could run before she collapsed. Between the heat and the weight of the pack, her body was dehydrating at an astonishing rate. Soon her muscles would cramp and the race would end.

  Don’t give up now, you’re almost there, Red chided herself. Just a little farther.

  She reached for her pistol and pressed her thumb to the stock. It wasn’t much, but Red found the weapon’s presence soothing. Children had blankets, she had her gun. She heard a beep and knew she had enough time to charge it, but did she have enough ammo to take out an entire band of armed enemies? The answer was clear. No, she did not.

  Red tried to focus on the change, calling to it. Her hands burned as claws forced their way through her fingertips. A burst of energy shot through her, but didn’t give her enough added speed to beat the motorized pursuit.

  “Demery,” she shouted. He didn’t answer her immediately. “You said you knew them. Who are they?”

  He stopped to face the approaching vehicles. “It’s Reaper and the Sand Devils,” Demery said, smiling. “We found them at last.”

  Red looked at the dark cloud of dust that the vehicles were kicking up in their wake, then back at Demery. Why in the hell did it feel like that wasn’t a good thing?

  chapter fourteen

  R

  aphael awoke to something tickling his stomach. His first reaction was to swat it away. Only when it happened again did he realize what the tickle was . . . Catherine’s lips.

  He stayed very still, waiting to see what she’d do. She pressed her mouth to his abdomen and slowly made her way down to the front of his pants. Raphael’s breath caught.

  “I was wondering when you were going to wake up,” she said.

  His lashes fluttered open to half mast so he could see her. She was straddling him, her knees resting next to his thighs. Her lips were slightly swollen like she’d been kissing him for a while. The fact that he hadn’t woken was a testament to his exhaustion and the level of trust he had in her.

  “Don’t let me stop you,” Raphael said, licking a fang.

  Catherine’s full lips quirked and she leaned forward to lay another open-mouthed kiss on his chest. Her tongue peeked out, tasting his flat nipple through his shirt, hardening it instantly. Raphael gripped the rags and furs beneath him to keep from reaching for her. This one was for her. Catherine needed to be in control. Needed to realize that there was more going on between them than bargains and threats.

  Raphael dropped his head back and tried to relax, but her sensual mouth wouldn’t let him. Catherine teased his flesh, biting, nibbling, and licking like he was covered in synth-honey. His body bowed beneath her as she reached the waist of his pants.

  He wanted her to open them and take him deep into her mouth. Raphael wanted to feel Catherine’s lips surround him. Her tongue stroke him. The suction of her mouth, when she drank from him. He was so hard he felt near bursting. One touch, one caress, and he’d spend himself like a teenage boy next to his first naked woman.

  Her warm breath caressed the hairs leading into his waistband. Raphael’s stomach clenched as she slipped her tongue beneath the material and slowly stroked. He gritted his teeth and grasped the rags tighter. They ripped.

  Catherine giggled. “Like that?” she asked.

  “You know I do,” he said between ragged breaths.

  She leaned down and kissed him again, trailing her lips along his abdomen. His eyes followed her every mo
ve. Her fingers deftly found the opening to his pants and unfastened them, spreading the material wide. Warm air hit his cock and he gasped.

  “What do we have here?” she asked. His erection pulsed, growing under her hungry gaze.

  “Damn it, woman,” Raphael growled. “Are you trying to torture me?”

  “Yes,” Catherine said, laughing. “I figure it’s only fair, given what you’ve done to me.”

  She had a point, but he didn’t have to like it. “Fine,” Raphael said. “Do what you wish. I am yours for the taking.”

  That throwaway statement stopped her. Catherine blinked in surprise and looked at him, her gaze searching. The vulnerability he sensed rocked him, shattering what little protection he’d had around his heart. Raphael meant every word and hoped she could see the sincerity in his expression.

  “Why would you say such a thing?” she asked.

  He met her green eyes. They shimmered with such intensity that it nearly stole his breath. “Because it’s the truth,” he said softly.

  Chaos stared for a moment longer, then reached for Raphael’s shirt. She pulled it over his head, exposing his firm chest. The same chest she’d been kissing seconds ago. He had such a beautiful body, all strong lines and firm walls.

  In clothes or naked, he oozed sexuality as easily as most people exhaled. She’d wanted to touch him on her own terms for some time now, but didn’t think that was ever going to happen.

  She still couldn’t believe she’d gotten up the nerve to do so while he was sleeping. Chaos splayed her small hand over his chest, running a finger down the length of dark hair that led to his impressive erection. She longed to taste him there and she would, in a moment, after she’d had her fill of exploring the rest of him.

  Chaos stood and stripped the boots off Raphael, taking his pants along with them. When she’d finished, he was lying against the makeshift rest pad, gloriously naked. She allowed her eyes to feast, taking in every inch of him. He lay back so erotically male, waiting to be worshipped.

  A smile played on his lips as he watched her. He looked to be getting as much pleasure from this encounter as she was. Why that surprised Chaos, she didn’t know. Maybe she’d thought he only got off while using high-handed tactics.