Apocalypse Assassins: The Complete Series

by D. Laine

  5

  THEA

  The section of the mine we had converted into a second, makeshift bedroom stayed warmer than I thought it would. The fire at the main entrance provided more than enough heat to keep me comfortable. So comfortable I slept on top of my thick coat for extra padding as opposed to sleeping in it. For a brief moment, I could almost pretend I was back home in my cozy bed.

  As the clutches of sleep released me to yet another day of uncertainty, I tried to hold on to the serenity I found only in sleep these days. If I kept my eyes squeezed shut and tried really hard, I could even relive the sensation of having Dylan’s strong arms wrapped around me.

  I snuggled into the softness under my head with a contented sigh, and pretended it was him, holding me as he had the morning before everything changed.

  Then the lump under my head moved—just the slightest of twitches, but enough that I snapped fully awake. My eyes landed on a large hand resting against my shoulder, palm up. With a sudden jolt of mortification, I realized that I recognized the fingers.

  Oh, God, how I recognized them.

  I angled my head and found another hand curled around my waist. I could now feel his chest pressed against my back, and his steady breaths stirring the hair around my neck. Every part of me that he touched tingled with an undercurrent of pleasure I couldn’t deny no matter how hard I tried.

  Heat flashed through me, awakening my senses, when his palm glided over my hip and inched toward the front of my pants. My mouth opened, but I wasn’t sure whether I planned to encourage him to keep going or tell him to stop. I wasn’t entirely sure he was awake, and not attempting to feel me up in his sleep.

  His arm slipped around me and he tugged me closer, drawing me against the warmth of his chest. I felt him everywhere. His strong arms and sturdy frame, rough but experienced hands, and then his hardened length pressing against my butt.

  I jerked away with a startled huff. Before I could slide completely out of his grasp, his hand tightened its grip around my waist to hold me in place.

  “Don’t,” he rasped into my ear. “Just stay.”

  My body locked up like an animal caught in the headlights of a speeding car. “Dylan—”

  “Please.” His mouth skimmed the sensitive skin on my neck, his soft lips kissing away the scratchiness left behind by the scruff on his chin. “I can’t take this silent treatment anymore, Thea.”

  “I’m not—”

  He propped up on one elbow behind me. Just as suddenly as he moved, he rolled me onto my back. My breath hitched as he leaned over me.

  “Are you ever going to forgive me?” he whispered.

  “It’s not . . .”

  His gaze lowered to my mouth with such visible lust I forgot my next words. He, of course, knew the effect he had on me. The wicked grin on his face proved that much.

  His rough palm glided over my hip, briefly slipping beneath the fringes of my shirt to tease me. My breaths grew labored at his touch, and his grin grew.

  “We both know you’re going to forgive me eventually,” he told me. “Why make me suffer now?”

  “I’m not purposefully trying to make you suffer,” I whispered harshly.

  “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching. But I’m always watching you, Thea.” His eyes lowered to where his hand moved gingerly across the sliver of skin between my shirt and my pants. “I recognize your tells from watching you for so long. And right now? The way your eyes have dilated, and the way your neck is flushed here”—his fingers rose to skim over the dimple in my throat—“means you want me to kiss you.”

  “I think your body language reading skills need a little practice,” I managed.

  He wedged one knee between my legs and swiftly rose above me. “You also moan my name in your sleep.”

  “I do not,” I hissed.

  “Do too.” He inched closer. “I was awake long before you.”

  His mouth lowered to my jaw, dangerously close to my lips. Or not close enough? Hell, I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew that what he was doing felt good. Other than his mouth on me, he didn’t touch me anywhere else. His breath was warm on my neck as he nibbled across my jaw line.

  My eyes fluttered under the weight of pleasure. My fingers flexed, pinching the fabric beneath me, as I resisted the urge to touch him like I wanted to. It was pure stubbornness. I was supposed to be mad at him. I was mad at him.

  “Kiss me, Thea.”

  “No,” I whispered.

  “At least forgive me.”

  “I—”

  “Please.”

  The desperation I heard in that one word tugged at my heartstrings in a way I wasn’t prepared for. My eyes drifted open to peer into his. I released my grip on the coat beneath me, and my arms rose as if they had a mind of their own. My fingers greedily swept through his hair.

  It had grown longer in the weeks since we had left Montana. I didn’t mind the unkempt way his dark locks stuck up a little on the top now. In fact, I found it sexy. Though I would never tell him, the style he had unknowingly adopted was more pop singer than lethal assassin these days.

  Either way, he looked sinfully handsome and undeniably kissable.

  My fingers curled around the back of his head. I pulled him to me while simultaneously lifting my shoulders to meet him halfway. His lips crashed into mine, driving me back onto the padding beneath me. Then suddenly, he was touching me everywhere.

  His forearms caged me in. His hands and fingers flitted around my face, neck, shoulders, and hair like they couldn’t decide where they wanted to touch me first. Each new spot he branded tingled from his brief touch.

  Heat consumed me. His hips ground against mine, and all the heat shot to my center, where he was pressed against me—hard and huge and ready. And dammit if I didn’t forget why I was supposed to be mad at him. However, I was lucid enough to remember we were not alone in this crowded room. In fact, the two people sleeping near us were the last two people I wanted to wake up and see this.

  Gathering all the willpower I could muster with his mouth moving so brazenly over mine, I pushed against his shoulders. He only kissed me harder, teasing me with his tongue. I pushed again.

  His mouth finally released mine, and while that was what I wanted, I felt a twinge of disappointment and regret immediately.

  “Don’t,” I told him.

  “You started it.” His lips curved into a grin as he started to lower his head.

  My hands on his shoulders stopped him from coming any closer. “No, I—” Dammit. I did start it, didn’t I? “Only because you sounded so pathetic.”

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t—” I groaned my frustration with him. He was more difficult to talk to than a toddler at times. “We can’t do this.”

  His lips puckered in contemplation. “Why not?”

  “For starters, Jake and David are right there.” I pointed them out where they snoozed a few feet away.

  “So? They’re asleep, and we’re only kissing.” He angled his head and a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes. “Unless you have something else in mind? I’m pretty sure we can find somewhere to—”

  “I think you are the one with more on his mind.” I tipped my chin down to indicate the front of his tented pants.

  “That?” He lifted one shoulder, still holding himself up on his elbows above me. “He liked hearing the sound of you moaning my name. What do you want me to say?”

  “Ugh.” I shoved his shoulders with a groan.

  This time he rolled off of me, and I was free to sit up. After glancing at the two snoring lumps on the floor near our feet, I shifted to peer down at Dylan. His eyes were already on me, patiently waiting. I sucked in a deep breath, preparing to say the words I needed to say.

  “I forgive you,” I told him. “I know why you couldn’t tell me who you were, so I do forgive you for that.”

  He nodded quietly before asking, “Why do I feel
like there’s a silent ‘but’ tacked on to the end of that statement?”

  “Because I’m still not sure if I can trust you,” I admitted softly. His mouth dropped open to argue, and I silenced him with a quick explanation. “I trust you with my life, given this messed up situation we’re in. That’s not what I’m saying. I trust you to keep me as safe as you possibly can out here—the same way I trust Jake now—but I don’t trust your character like I did before.”

  Dylan’s gaze drifted to the ceiling above us, and a slow grin curved his lips. “You never did trust me. That’s the problem with your explanation.”

  “Dylan—”

  “Remember when you thought I had a girlfriend?” he mused.

  “That was different.”

  “You didn’t trust me then, either.”

  “I believed you when you told me otherwise,” I insisted. “Now? I don’t know if I would believe you, considering I know firsthand how skilled you are at lying.”

  A bitter noise came out of his mouth. When he glanced up at me, a smirk was settled firmly on his lips. “Ouch.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. So while I can forgive you for lying to me, I can’t get past the fear that you’ll do it again,” I summarized softly. “Or that maybe you already have, and there’s more that you still aren’t telling me.”

  His eyes drifted back to mine. For an agonizingly long time, he did nothing but look at me. Each second that ticked by with us staring at each other tightened the uncomfortable knot in my stomach. His lips slowly parted, and suddenly I wasn’t so sure I wanted to hear what he had to tell me.

  “Dylan?” I pleaded, but I didn’t know what to ask him.

  For the truth? Or for him to continue keeping it from me?

  “I never meant to hurt you.” His knuckles grazed the side of my face. “Everything I’ve done, I thought, has been to spare you. My intentions were good, I promise you that.”

  I lifted my chin. “But . . .”

  With a heavy sigh, Dylan’s eyes fluttered shut. His throat jumped in preparation of telling me something we both knew I didn’t want to hear. But he was going to tell me anyway—because I asked him to.

  Maybe it was stupid of me to want to know? Survival was hard enough as it was. Why make it harder on myself? Maybe there were things about this challenging environment I was better off not knowing?

  And maybe my twin brother knew this.

  Jake groaned loudly as he stirred under his mound of blankets. My eyes snapped in his direction, and the words on Dylan’s tongue evaporated.

  Surprisingly, I found myself more relieved than disappointed.

  I pushed to a stand and grabbed my heavy coat from the floor. Splitting a parting glance between Dylan and Jake, I left. I heard someone moving around in the adjacent room. At the moment, I preferred the company of any one of our companions over Dylan’s company. Even Maria’s.

  She wasn’t who I found when I stepped through the narrow opening.

  “Good morning,” one of the Ringer twins called over his shoulder.

  When he turned to offer me a smile, I spotted the fresh scratch on his forehead that he had earned last night. That was the only way I determined which brother he was.

  “Morning, Keith.”

  His smile broadened. “You’re learning.”

  I pointed out his wound. “You’re making it easier on me today.”

  “Whatever works for you.” He turned to swipe a protein bar from the small mound of food piled in the corner. Tossing it to me, he suggested, “Eat up. We’ve got a big day ahead of us. We’re all going to need the energy.”

  I didn’t realize Maria was awake until she swept by me, tiptoeing around the still-snoring lump on the floor at my feet, who I suspected was Marcus.

  “I’m more inclined to call it a ‘last meal,’” she grumbled.

  I glared at the back of her head while she rifled through the stash. Another arm brushed up against me, and I turned to find David rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He gave me a groggy, lopsided smile.

  “That sounds reassuring,” he muttered.

  “It’s realistic,” Maria returned. Using the box of cereal in her hands, she gestured to someone standing behind me. “Isn’t it?”

  David and I both turned to find Dylan and Jake emerging from the crack in the wall. Dammit if my pulse didn’t speed up at the sight of Dylan’s tousled hair, which I had run my fingers through only moments ago.

  His eyes hardened as they shifted from me to Maria. “Knock it off, Maria.”

  “Fine. Don’t say it. I know you agree with me,” she declared confidently. “We’re never going to make it to the base. At least not all of us.”

  I wasn’t surprised to find her eyes on me when I glanced in her direction. She seesawed between David and me as if trying to decide which one of us would be the first to fall. When she finally settled on me, I held her gaze in silent opposition. I would not let her win. Not only because I wanted to live, but also to chip away at her too-cocky armor.

  An uncomfortable silence descended while we stared each other down. Even Marcus’s snoring had stopped. I glanced down to find his eyes open and directed at his sister, as were Kent’s from the other side of the room.

  Jake finally broke the silence. “Well, we’re going to try.”

  I looked at the pile of supplies in the corner—mostly weapons that needed to be loaded and prepped before we left at sundown. Despite the run to the gas station last night, we had little food and water left. I wondered if it would be enough.

  “Assuming we manage to get past the tags, how long will it take us to reach the agency?” I questioned.

  “Three or four days using the tunnel,” Jake answered.

  I eyed the half-eaten protein bar in my hand. Though I wasn’t a fan of Maria’s bluntness, she had a point. This did feel like a “last meal.”

  “Where is this agency you guys are always talking about anyway?” David wondered.

  I looked up when no one immediately answered. My curious gaze settled on the smirk fixed on Maria’s face as she peered over my shoulder.

  “You never told them?” she snorted.

  “It’s in the desert,” Dylan eventually answered. “About eighty miles northwest of Las Vegas.”

  “Northwest of . . .” David glanced down at me, his brows pulled together quizzically. Then he whirled around to dart a wide-eyed look at Dylan. “You’re not telling me . . .”

  “Yeah, I am.” Dylan answered David’s unspoken question.

  I had no idea what they were talking about. From the number of grins, smirks, and stifled laughter around me, I suspected I was the only one.

  “What is it? What’s going on?” I asked.

  David looked down at me and muttered, “Area 51.”

  “The agency is—” My mouth dropped open. “Area 51? But isn’t that . . .”

  Weren’t they famous for housing aliens, or something like that?

  “All the conspiracies you’ve heard are just a cover for what’s really there,” Jake volunteered.

  “And what’s really there is . . .” David fished.

  “Us.” Dylan spread his arms wide. “The top secret agency spearheading the apocalypse prevention movement, of course.”

  So no aliens. Knowing aliens were a farce didn’t make me feel any better. If I had a choice, I would probably prefer fighting aliens. They seemed easier than demons determined to unleash hell on Earth.

  But I didn’t have that choice. Either way, we had to fight to keep what was ours.

  THE HOURS of the day passed quickly—too quickly considering they may be our last. When the dim light began to fade outside the walls of our shelter, and I knew the time to leave had nearly come, I swiped one of the flashlights and wandered deeper into the mine. Though I hated the confinement in the narrow tunnels, I wanted to see the outside world—what little the ash permitted me—one last time.

  As I pushed through the grate and stepped out onto the ledge, I realize
d I wasn’t the only one who had come to possibly say goodbye. David stood at the edge, facing east, away from the carnage and destruction and tags beneath us.

  I joined him on the rocky lip. Wordlessly, we watched the last bit of light fade from the eastern sky as the sun dropped below the horizon behind us.

  Any other night, under normal circumstances, the stars I had spent a lifetime gazing at would be popping out. Not this night. Not any nights now. I refused to see the growing blanket of darkness that rolled toward us as an ominous sign of what was to come.

  I reached out to take my friend’s hand in mine. “We’re going to make it.”

  David squeezed my fingers, but offered no similar reassurance. After another minute, he asked, “Do you remember the first time we met? In that class?”

  I smiled at the memory. “We got partnered for that horrible assignment, and spent so much time goofing off we barely passed.”

  “That was the first time I ever earned a C in a class.”

  I peeked at David’s profile to find his face void of emotion. He was pretending not to be worried. I knew him well enough to see through the mask. But what could I say? What reassurances could I offer that I hadn’t already?

  I didn’t know if we would be okay. Saying so again felt meaningless.

  Instead, we said nothing. The silence was more fitting than hollow words.

  We didn’t move until Jake’s head popped out of the air shaft. When he informed us that it was time to go, our grips tightened. Taking the first steps back into the mine, I reminded myself that this was not the end. It was only the beginning on the long journey to getting back what was rightfully ours.

  WE PACKED LIGHTLY, if being covered to the neck in sharp steel and shiny metal could be considered light. The bottles of water and food were split between all the backpacks. Though no one said the reason for spreading out our rations, I knew. The thought that one or more of us might not reach our destination filled me with a sickening dread that only worsened the hollowed out feeling in my empty stomach.

  As the only two in our group not trained for the conditions we were about to face, David and I were designated as the mules. We carried most of the supplies on our backs. The others certainly looked the part of fierce warriors, while David and I were each given one dagger and one gun to carry for self-defense. Like a true obsessive-compulsive, I checked and rechecked the chamber to confirm it was fully loaded.