by Angela White
When she arrived at Adrian’s tent, he was sitting inside the open flap at a small card table, an empty chair across from him. Angela hoped she didn’t smell like what she’d been doing all morning.
“You’re late,” he said, thinking she was easily the prettiest woman in camp. Tonya had been replaced, and Adrian was aware of how male eyes followed her, lingered.
“Sorry.”
She unbuttoned the filthy white overcoat, leaving it outside.
Adrian saw her careful look around before coming in. Checking for threats? An escape route? Would Marc have taught her things like that? How much did she already know?
“We were doing the pigs, and I lost track of time,” Angela explained.
“He has you on a schedule already?”
Adrian’s displeasure was obvious and she hurried to explain, “No, I volunteered. Chris needs help.”
Distracted, Adrian observed that her jeans and tank top was still almost indecent. It was what the other women here wore, but on Angela, it was so sexy that obscene came to mind.
“That’s one of the best excuses I’ve heard. Have a seat.”
She did, noticing his tent was impeccable, with not a thing out of place. He clearly liked things to be in their proper place. So did she, but not to this extreme. There were no personal items in sight, not a speck of dust or trash, but there were two guns on his pillow. What a contradiction Adrian was.
“How’s the first day on your own been?” Adrian asked. He was guessing it hadn’t been great.
“I’ve had worse.”
He lit a smoke, and as their eyes met over the dancing flame of the flag-draped lighter, Angela could feel doors rattling and voices whispering.
Adrian didn’t want to let go. He could almost feel something trying to happen, but the sounds of people moving by outside said everyone could view them.
He leaned back, setting the hot lighter upright on the small table.
Angela blinked. The witch had been telling her about the new doors that had just appeared and then vanished. Doors to their future.
“Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep,” she stated, wondering how much he knew about her gifts.
“I won’t keep you long.”
She smiled, a genuine one this time. “It’s okay. You’re better company than Chris.”
Adrian noted her occasional glance toward the flap that reminded him of Neil and Kyle. She was very alert for a female. Marc had done well with her.
“I’ve heard that. It’s why he usually has no help.”
“I’d mention it to him, but I’m pretty sure he already knows.”
“He should. We’ve all talked to him about it.”
Angela tensed, but didn’t draw her gun at a loud bang outside. “I haven’t settled in with all the noises yet.”
Adrian raised a brow. “That sounded military.”
“Marc taught me a few things.”
Her tone was almost hostile, defensive, and Adrian quickly changed the sore subject.
“Are you and Chris getting along?”
Angela shrugged. “He ignores me until he needs something, and I roll my eyes a lot. Does that count?”
Adrian chuckled. “Most people take a few days to settle in, but we can start your schedule tomorrow if you’d rather stay busy.”
She nodded right away, glad he’d recognized her need and saved her from asking. “Yes, please.”
“Good. You’ll be with John for a while, but you’ll move up to be our second fully checked-out doctor soon. It will help the women here come to us with their problems. On top of all the other benefits, of course, but females are a top priority. I’d like you to encourage them to tell you about any problems they’re having, medical or otherwise.”
“Sure.” Angela understood he also expected to be told. He was smart to do it that way and superior to most other men because he realized it would succeed. He understood females more than even Marc did.
“You’ll pull four shifts a week with John, a self-defense and gun class twice a week, and eventually you’ll teach something, probably first aid. After that, if you have energy to burn, you’re free to volunteer for anything you want. That work for you?”
Thoughts of what those classes and interactions might be like came to her and Angela was again grateful to Marc that she could do more than hold her own. “Yes.”
“If you find something that fits, a certain shift or day off, tell me or Kenn, and we’ll put it on your schedule permanently, he told her, already knowing she would come to him, not Kenn. “Anything else you need?”
“Yes. I have a tent I’d like to put up. Does it matter where?”
“Neil told me he took care of that a little while ago,” he told her and changed the subject again. “You’re welcome to sit with us at mess.”
Angela bobbed her head in acceptance, storing that. She had needed two things when she’d awakened this morning, and Adrian had taken care of both without her having to ask. “Thanks. What are we having?”
“Tuna helper today, beans and ham tomorrow.”
Angela raised a brow. “Real ham? And cornbread?”
“Yes.”
Angela sensed he wanted her to stay longer, but also didn’t want to push her too hard. He was obviously a complicated man.
“Happy butchering.” She paused. “You have one? A butcher?”
“Says he was for twenty years. We’ll find out.”
She waited for more, and when there was only silence, she took the hint. “Well, I guess I’ll go find out if Chris has any fingers left to flip people off with.”
Adrian chuckled, wanting more, wanting to talk, but he remained silent. He’d pushed her yesterday and had chosen not to bring it up today despite asking her here to talk. She needed time. He was impressed that she’d already been helping, though. He had expected her to hide in her tent or at least join Neil and Marc, whose adventures this morning he’d already heard about. Adrian was sure the level of those escapades was a bit more than even Neil had expected.
Three camp members had already come by to express their displeasure at having Doug hurt, but they had conveniently forgotten that Kenn had done the same thing when he first came. Adrian had reminded them of it.
Angela paused at the flap, drawing his attention. “You okay?”
Surprised by the question, Adrian answered, “5-by.”
The witch jumped forward. Less stress. Heart needs a break.
Adrian blinked, caught off guard and Angela left before he could respond.
3
Neil and Marc were in the animal area shortly after leaving the mess, walking by animals that grazed and dozed.
Marc picked out sheep, goats, a small herd of cows, deer, and chickens. In the corner of this small farm was a pup tent with a big desk in front of it and a large metal examining table under a canopy that was attached to the side of the mud-splattered vinyl. Surrounded by thick green forest, the area had the feel of a petting zoo. There were moos and clucks and meows and barks, and under it all, the voices and footsteps of the sentries and camp members constantly moving by.
In the center ring of this circus was a tall, angry-looking man in a dirty white coat, wrestling with a big, orange cat on the metal table. He was trying to examine the cat’s bloody ears and getting nowhere.
Marc automatically came forward to help, holding the tom still, soothing and rubbing. The husky cat calmed down, letting the vet smear a thick, yellow salve over its wounds.
In response, Chris walked away, leaving him to keep the restless feline on the table.
Marc shot Neil a scowl as the vet disappeared into the tent without a word. “A little help?”
“What you get for jumping in without asking first.” Neil snickered. “Besides, it’s just a little pussy.”
Marc laughed with him, trying not to be scratched as the cat bushed up. The tom had spotted the wolf.
Marc quickly blocked its view, wincing as a sharp claw pierced his wrist like a needle, the
n another.
Before the next one could, he followed his instincts. “No. Stop. Stay.”
Dog dropped to his haunches, and the cat slowly withdrew its claws from Marc’s stinging skin.
“Is he full-blooded?” Chris had come from the tent with a syringe and a small, blue collar.
“No. At least, I don’t think so. He looks the part, but sometimes he acts too much like a dog.”
The vet’s hands were gentle and quick with the cat as he relieved Marc of the contently purring feline. “You’re good with animals.”
Marc saw Neil’s surprise at the compliment and explained, “They’re easier to make friends with.”
The vet didn’t respond to the hint, just carefully took the cat to a small stack of carriers and put him inside.
“You’ll have to register the wolf or one of the camp’s young guns will shoot him by accident,” Chris called over his shoulder.
“That’s why we’re here,” Neil said quickly to the sarcastic words. “Do you have time now?”
“Sure. Was about to take a break anyway.”
The words carried annoyance, and Marc wished Angie were here to tell him what the man’s problem was.
“I had to leave for a while, and even though I told him I would, he didn’t think I was coming back.”
Angela flashed a smile as she joined them, heart thumping when Marc said a silent hello. She had missed him!
Only Marc noticed the vet’s countenance brighten, before it was quickly hidden away.
“Sorry. Long lines.”
“I’m used to not having help.”
The bitter tone was hard, and while Marc frowned at him, Angela only pulled her dirty overcoat on.
“I mentioned that to Adrian. So what’s next?”
The vet snorted. “Next were the cats that I did while you were gone,” he stated coolly, pretending he didn’t care that she had spoken to Adrian about him. That was something Kenn or Neil should have done. “Now is the wolf. We’ll draw blood and give the same vaccinations as the dogs. It’s all in the tent. Think you can find it?”
Angela moved that way without answering, aware of Marc glaring.
His scowl grew when Chris stole a quick peek at her retreating rear.
“I’ll do the physical exam first.”
Before Marc could tell him anything, the vet bent down and got busy, fingers gentle, knowledgeable.
Dog stayed still, not growling but very tense, until the man’s hands slid between his legs. Then he jerked back, baring his teeth.
“Easy, boy.” Marc rubbed Dog’s rigid ears and hoped the vet planned to hurry.
“He’s in good shape,” Chris said, feeling the sturdy neck and the muzzle. He didn’t bat a lash when the wolf nipped at his fingers. Instead of fear, the vet flicked the animal on the nose, drawing a small, surprised yelp.
“No. Stay.”
The vet continued with the exam, and Marc was impressed that Dog relaxed.
“Beautiful. Stud or worker?”
“What’s the difference?”
“We don’t have any pets here. Animals are either food or security, unless they’re breeders. Studding means being chained up.”
Marc was frowning, “And the workers?”
“He passes an obedience course and gets put to labor. You can do both, but the workers are harder to breed for some reason.”
Chris turned to go get what he needed from the tent, and Angela was there to hand him a syringe and a long, plastic tube with a blue ring on the end.
“Very organized system you’ve got in there. Even an idiot can find what he needs.”
Chris sniggered, but said nothing as he drew blood from the wolf’s leg.
Neil was surprised when the big animal didn’t budge, didn’t seem to feel it.
The vaccinations did draw a reaction. All done at the same time, it caused Dog to bare his teeth, but he didn’t snap or bite.
Neil wondered if Angela’s glazed eyes had anything to do with it.
“What’s the course he has to pass?” Marc asked, fighting to keep his gaze from Angie as she took the tubes to the tent while writing on them.
“Commands first. Have him do the basics. I may add some.”
Marc pointed at the wolf. “Heel, Dog.”
The animal immediately came to his side, and Marc threw an arm out. “Up and over, by three.”
The wolf leapt almost straight up, easily clearing Marc’s arm. Upon landing, he repeated the exact movement twice more before returning to his master’s side.
“Pass.”
The vet studied the alert animal thoughtfully for a moment and then turned for the tent without a word.
Neil blew out a frustrated breath at the man’s rudeness and Marc nodded his agreement.
A few minutes later, they both stepped closer to the tent at the sounds of clothing rustling and grunting.
“Pull on the damn thing! It doesn’t bite!”
“I’m trying not to rip it off. It’s old.”
“That sucked! Next time, I’ll do myself!”
The vet stomped out of the tent, and Angela came out behind him, snickering at Marc and Neil’s expressions.
Chris was wearing a very thickly padded training suit and had no weapon, just a size advantage, and he suddenly swung around toward Angela.
All three men detected her flinch at his raised hands, clearly going for her gun, and then the wolf was moving past them, responding to Angela’s need without a single word being spoken.
Those who had stopped now gasped in alarm at the quick blur Dog became as he streaked toward the vet.
Dog jumped for the throat and got a padded arm instead. He immediately let go and lunged upward, latching onto a small swatch of padding and then skin as his teeth broke through.
When Chris dropped to his knees, struggling to push him away, Marc gave a sharp whistle.
The wolf let go, backed up a couple feet. They all saw the blood on his muzzle and on the outfit that Angela immediately began helping Chris pull it off.
“So, we’re done?” Neil asked, almost glad when the vet shrugged away from Angela’s doctoring touch. Marc didn’t like it.
“I hope so. He already needs stitches.”
Angela handed him a large gauze pad to hold over his shoulder, and the vet’s face tightened. He immediately retreated from her smell. “Not the first time.”
He approached the wolf without any fear, something Marc respected and would remember.
“Good boy.” Chris gave the wolf a solid pat to his chest and a quick rub of the tense neck, then went to the desk to write in a thick notebook, holding the gauze in place.
The bystanders began to move again, murmuring and muttering.
“Red collar. Adrian will want him classified as a worker, but I’d like to try breeding too.”
Angela pulled a scarlet collar from her pocket. She handed it to Marc with careful fingers, not meeting his eyes but wanting to badly. She turned to the vet instead. “Next?”
Neil grinned, thinking she sounded like Marc.
Chris snorted. “A bandage maybe?”
She went to get one from his tent, and Chris turned to Neil. “What’s her story? I’ve been busy. I haven’t heard anything yet.”
Neil and Marc both frowned at him.
“She’s going to be our doctor,” Neil said cautiously.
The vet snorted again. “I knew that already. Is she single?”
Marc rotated toward the path, scowling.
Neil followed. “Have to ask her. Thanks. Catch ya later.”
Marc pointed to where Angela was coming from the tent. “Stay. Guard her.”
Dog immediately padded to her side.
Chris understood this man was someone to her and recognized the sharp tone of command. He instinctively bowed to it. “She’ll be safe here. It’s you we’ll hate.”
The vet turned away before Marc could respond.
Marc caught up with Neil, still not sure about this plac
e, these people. Angie would be good here, he knew that already, and the wolf could defend himself. As for Marc, he had spent most of his life taking care of number one. These sheep may need a shepherd, but he didn’t. Just because he had agreed to help with some things, do some quiet labor for Adrian, didn’t mean their boss had his true loyalty. So far, that honor belonged solely to Angela.
Marc sighed, trying not to be mad. The sour vet hadn’t told him anything he hadn’t already known.
“I thought we’d join a game next. Right now there’s soccer, corn-hole, and darts.”
“Darts?”
Neil took them toward the yells and thuds coming from the opposite side of the sprawling camp. They both ignored the hard, unhappy glares of those they passed. “He likes to have something on hand for everyone. Tomorrow is football.”
The field was spacious, freshly mowed and almost empty. Only twelve men were there, with no referee and even fewer spectators, giving them one corner of the area to themselves. The field was surrounded by thick trees and ankle-high grass. There were real goal nets at each end, outlined in painted white, and Marc waited eagerly as the game restarted. He had briefly played as a kid.
“New soccer is better,” Neil stated, wondering if the Wolfman had a weakness other than Angie. If he did, these men would find it.
Marc watched as the teams–one side with their shirts off–yelled and charged the ball as a group. They taunted and screamed, cheeks red as they tripped, were punched. There was bleeding, sweating, serious blows, and Marc’s heart picked up a bit as he followed the violent game.
“You still can’t touch the ball with your hands, but you can do whatever it takes to get it. First team to ten wins,” Neil said, thinking it would be interesting to have Marc and Kenn on the field at the same time.
The wind gusted, blowing a cloud of dust over the dim field, and a group of men rushing for the ball got tangled up and fell hard, drawing blood.
Three of them left the game, and Neil raised a brow in challenge at Marc as both teams waved toward them. “We can still play darts. Hilda’s probably there.”
The men exchanged a snicker, and Marc pulled his shirt off and led the way onto the field. Others came from the sidelines, and he noticed they automatically adjusted the teams. Not for the first time, Marc was curious as to exactly how high in the chain of command Neil was.
