Adrian's Eagles: Book Four (Life After War)

by White, Angela

  “It’s okay now.” John swept her wild, tacky hair into a bun and then began to wipe the drying blood from her pale skin as Kyle’s team gathered around.

  “You gonna be okay?” Angela nodded and had to control her reaction again as the tent spun. “Left arm’s hit, I’m all good here.”

  Men smiled and made jokes back that were right, but their eyes said they were deeply upset and needed some way to feel better about how it had all played out.

  Giving her a break, John moved back and watched in fascination as her breathing slowed and the static electricity in the tent tripled. When her eyes opened, he flinched back at the red orbs.

  “There are survivors, fuel tankers, and a working radio station in Omaha… medical supplies back in Cottonwood… survivors in Martin…”

  The list went on for a long minute while John wondered if even Adrian knew what all she might be capable of. John’s own thoughts were often consumed by his illness (confirmed stomach Cancer that would kill him in the next months) and for that second, there was hope for him also. There were stories flying around camp that she was different. They were clearly true.

  When the Eagles left, each promising to return later, Angela gave John a sigh. “Finish it up now?”

  Seeing how much misery she was in had him nodding. After he was done stitching her up, he would find a way to slip something into her system for the pain.

  After Kyle’s team, there was still a line of people waiting to be reassured. When she trembled under his fingers, John moved to the flap. He hadn’t liked helping mar that pretty skin with stitches. “Come back after lunch!”

  He snapped the flap shut with angry movements. ”I’m going to the Mess. You need anything?”

  Angela smiled, feeling the clammy bumps and chills of nausea. “That depends on how long I’m in for, sheriff,” she joked.

  The doctor’s face melted. “I’d not chain you either. Give your system time to heal, that’s all.”

  “Thank you. For everything.” As soon as he left her alone, Angela reached for the basin.

  The camp wasn’t doing well either. No one knew of Angela’s past with the brothers and now that there had been a few hours to consider what the attack meant, there was unrest. Were they all so unsafe that anyone might sneak in and slit their throats? It was a feeling more than a few people wore.

  Adrian hated it, worried about losing them, but he also understood they had to wake up before they could become stronger. Would this be enough to get some more of them into his army, where they belonged? Only time would tell. For right now, something had to settle everyone down and make them feel safe again.

  3

  Under the influence of the painkillers John had forced on her, Angela could hear the silent chaos of Safe Haven. It buzzed unpleasantly around Kenn’s newly inflated laughter and the Eagles’ disbelieving shock.

  The camp was Adrian’s chore (and she would help there anyway), but Kenn was her chain. When she regained her strength, she would handle it one final time and be done with the new games he was now hesitantly planning. They didn’t have time for this. When the brother didn’t report back, wouldn’t the Slavers come in force and wipe them out? They’d had a tank last time. What would they ambush these sheep with now? Poison came to mind and the doctor inside flinched. In these conditions, there would be nothing she or John could do.

  During her hours of extra stitches, pain, and rest, Angela’s mind went over everything that had happened. As she drifted, she hesitantly found that room inside her heart that was hidden deep behind doors covered with webs. She’d only been to this place a few times in her life and she opened the gates with a reminder not to get lost in the past.

  Inside the miserable crypt were half a dozen small boxes. Her eyes went over each only fleetingly; her childhood, Marc’s betrayal, losing her infant. This was where she placed all those things that were so horrific she had to get away from them or be consumed by the grief.

  Angela took an empty container from the endless stack on the shelf, mentally cringing at so many waiting to be filled. She pulled the day’s horrors together; Charlie’s screams, Dean’s evil touch, the pretending to be fine when she needed to cry… and shoved them deep inside. A fast flip had the lid sealed and she slid it next to the box marked Aftermath. There were seven crippling horrors in here now. How many boxes would she fill as an Eagle?

  “Too many to ever go back,” the Witch warned.

  Angela responded furiously. “Good. I’d stack them ten feet high to help these people, my people, survive!”

  Snapping awake, Angela carefully stood up and moved to the flap. She could feel the unrest growing, and she was shocked to see so many of the camp members gathered outside the tent to wait for word. She’d found a home with all of these shattered, hopeful refugees and they would stand together. She would help Adrian see to it with all she had, and that included her life. They were hers!

  In that moment, she understood how to ease them and she didn’t hesitate to share her story this time. Walking with careful steps and a wolf at her heels, Angela let them see the personal hatred the brothers had held, and smothered the Witch when she told them that she finally felt safe now.

  A short time later, the explanation was spreading across Safe Haven, leaving calming notes and allowing that golden light to once again drown out the crimson.

  4

  “I can’t make it. Again.”

  Sam looked up from the cup of coffee she’d lifted from the Mess, hands still dusty brown from working in the garden all day. “More quake trouble?”

  Neil shook his head, trying not to peer down the front of her gaping sweater. “I have to make a run. I’ll be back tonight, but it’ll be too late.”

  “Checking for more problems?”

  “Yeah. Me and Brady are gonna go have a look-see.”

  Very glad Angie was okay, Sam shrugged, smiling. “We’ll do it another time. Be careful.”

  “Thanks.” For an instant, the Trooper thought about asking her if she wanted to come along and turned away instead. What was wrong with him?

  “Will you tell him there might be a… storm? A lot of… dirty rain.”

  “Yes.”

  Neil didn’t ask any of the questions he wanted to as he headed for the parking area. He had already suspected Sam was special from the way Adrian had her hidden whenever she weather-watched and he wondered curiously about her gifts. How much like Angie was she?

  Adrian was silently screaming at the men who had been on duty and they felt every word he didn’t speak. Someone had gotten through the wire. They had failed.

  The Leader stared at his men for a long time, choosing, reordering, and yet his mind said she wouldn’t like it, to go easy on them. If Brady hadn’t noticed Dean during the chaos, how could he expect these months-long fighters to? With nothing to say, Adrian didn’t offer comfort or threats. Instead, he didn’t talk to them at all. He went to the medical tent while the camp was settling for evening Mess, hoping she would be alone.

  Adrian paused outside the flap, listening. Was she really okay?

  “Come in and see for yourself,” the Witch invited, always quick to make him welcome.

  He ducked inside to see Angela reclined in a chair, smoking a joint. Her eyes were closed, dark lashes on pale skin and she didn’t open them.

  “I’m better now. Going to either make him pay or thank him later,” she muttered, exhaling. “John slipped a few happy drops into the last of my water bottle. He knew I’d guzzle it and notice the taste too late.” He had done it while she was distracted by her son’s last quick visit and Angela wasn’t sure if she was glad or mad.

  “Good.” Adrian moved closer to the red and white bandage covering her shoulder. “How bad is it?”

  She was covered in a heated blanket and he had no idea how John was managing to do that, but didn’t get snagged on it as she shrugged

  Angela winced at another dizzying lance of pain. “It’s fine til I do that.”

>   Adrian grinned tightly, playing along, “Then don’t do that.”

  Angela still didn’t open her eyes. She had heard about Brady leaving camp on a recon and wasn’t surprised to feel relieved. He would be distracted by Neil and she would have a little time to finish sorting things out. Like Adrian had known when he’d sent Marc with the Trooper, she realized. “Anyone ever tell these people that they are very lucky you chose them?”

  “It doesn’t feel that way, watching the blood run down your arm.”

  She sighed tiredly. “Yeah, that top one won’t stay closed. John will do it again when he gets back.”

  Adrian scowled this time and Angela’s tone grew hard. “It could have been worse.”

  His voice was pointed. “Almost was, right? You could have been stabbed and shot.”

  That sent her startled gaze to his. “How do you know? I blocked that from you.”

  His frown expanded. “It’s common sense. With you gone, Kenn might have been able to earn true forgiveness.”

  She raised a brow. “Saving my life hasn’t?”

  “No. I’m grateful and I’ll show it, but nothing can ever be the way it was.”

  Angela was glad Adrian knew the truth. An honestly good man, Kenn may never be. That didn’t mean they could do without him.

  “What comes next?”

  “We get ready for the main group to find us again.”

  There was silence again as they both considered that final battle and then he broke it, unable to keep from asking. “Where were you headed when you left the hayroom?”

  Angela’s thoughts were unprotected and he shared the memory with her.

  She had woken while Charlie dressed, listening to his worried thoughts. The Slavers were here! Was she ready? No, but it would have to be enough.

  As soon as Charlie was gone, she prepared herself as best she could for battle. If the evil group was nearby, she would slip out and surrender, give Adrian time to run again.

  “He won’t,” the Witch warned. “He’ll fight for you and lose every man.”

  “Not if I can get to Cesar, bluff him down with an offer of giving him my power.”

  The Witch didn’t answer and that was good enough for her. She had to get out of here before all these lives were lost on account of her curse.

  Angela turned around to say she’d planned to kill Cesar during the power-transfer, and found herself alone in the tent. What would he do now?

  5

  Worried, and determined to not let the injury interfere, Angela was on duty near the back of the vet area just before dawn. Set up on a corner post, where three rotating patrols crossed, the small dirt bike they’d insisted on placing under a nearby tree made a decent seat when her shoulder began throbbing.

  John’s medicine had worn off now and she moved her arm slowly, tearing up at the sting. She’d had stitches before and knew the way it worked, but that didn’t mean it was easy.

  Sighing in boredom and weariness, she stood up and began to sweep the scraggly trees a full minute early. She understood now why she had never been able to get the exact routine of the guards down. Each area had a rotating part to be covered a set number of times in an hour. It was up to the Eagle to decide when, during that 60 minutes, those patrols took place.

  Satisfied things were quiet here, she moved into the center of the grid around her. Stepping into the parking area, she exchanged nods with two of the three men on duty, and kept going, assuming the third guard was on the other side of his route. That happened everywhere in camp so that more than a dozen Eagles would be crisscrossing the entire area at any given time. To make up for those hiding laziness and carelessness, the senior men and Eagle on Point had a set pattern they walked for half an hour and then they did rounds of all the guards, keeping men alert. It was complicated from the outside, but once in on the secret, it became clearer. Twenty overlapping circles that covered the entire camp, it was smart and very effective. It was also easy on staffing, as it required only two men in each area instead of four.

  Angela settled against the bumper of a truck to light a smoke and give her body another quick break. She was pushing herself, but carefully this time, unlike during the trip here with Marc when she’d run his full course and passed out. She’d had to relive her baby’s death to explain it, but now she was stronger than she had ever been and not even close to quitting like some people were hoping would happen.

  Thanks to John’s care, she could still do her duty, and in the morning when she woke feeling like she was actually dead? That was what pills were for. She wasn’t missing her training time.

  Shoulder moving from stinging to throbbing, Angela switched it to a better position, not hiding her grimace. The rest of the parking lot couldn’t see her from here, only her boots, and the shadows were dark, empty except for the two men she could feel on sniper duty over her patrol area.

  “I can make that go away.”

  Twitching, Angela stretched her arm out carefully. She hadn’t picked up on him at all. He was good.

  “Then I wouldn’t be able to use it at the first aid class tomorrow.”

  Angela leaned back, hand coming up to reveal her gun. She was very fast to pull it again and she slid it back into the holster with a sigh. “When can we start my real lessons?”

  “A week or so.”

  “I don’t want to wait.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m working my regular schedule.”

  Adrian’s sigh was resigned and proud at the same time. “I know that, too. It’s why you were chosen for this, why you’ll succeed.”

  Adrian moved closer, seeing she had gotten the wound bleeding again by spending time with the camp and then on duty, instead of resting. He concentrated, pulling from his fury at her injury and a bolt of vivid gold energy shot from his hand and sank into her shoulder.

  Angela arched at the sensation, body alive with need and then it was gone, as was the pain. She drew in a calming breath.

  “My thanks.”

  “My honor.”

  The pain would return with dawn, but the open show of his own gifts, of their likeness, had Angela fighting the urge to step toward him. She was saved the battle by the sound of a guard coming.

  Jeremy slammed an icy façade into place at the sight of them, at the striking need in the air. “Marc’s back, headed this way.”

  Suddenly bone weary, Angela surprised both men. “I’ll find him in a bit.”

  The Level Three Eagle left quickly and Angela tried to resist the comfort Adrian wanted to give. Marc would be hurt, but it was still better than his oaths of better protection and guilt. She didn’t blame him, but she wasn’t ready to spend this time, when her mind was so empty, being filled back up with things that didn’t matter. This was her life, her choice to make and those who were really with her would accept it.

  Adrian watched her, unsure of her mood. Was she blaming Brady? Did she blame him? The Eagles were his and their failures belonged to him as well. He started to speak and then realized that was likely the reason she had turned Marc away. This was her time.

  “How did it happen?”

  “With the disks out, he must have crawled all night under the fog.”

  “I meant this shift in power that you’re currently putting in place.”

  Adrian’s tired face became shuttered, but he didn’t lie. “It’s destiny, fated.”

  Angela’s voice demanded more. “And you have no doubts, even though everyone else, including me, does?”

  “None.” His words were rough with emotion. “It’s meant to be.”

  He didn’t say more, but Angela felt it anyway and refused to let the two words even form in her head. Aware of all the ears on them, she opened her eyes to reveal those glints of steel that Marc would have recognized instantly.

  “Cesar has to die. We’ll never hold them together while he continues to murder our people.”

  Adrian was relieved to have her agree, but it also sealed his choice. If he d
idn’t get her ready for it, she would do it untrained. Her loathing of the evil man had finally conquered her fear of carrying the guilt over his death.

  “Yes, it has.” Like the man she’d ended on her trip here, it was another life that would be sacrificed for hers. It was hard to swallow, but Angela let it slide down her throat like a fine drink after a toast. Everything she was and would be to eliminate the Slavers!

  The man beside her echoed those thoughts. Together, they would give their flock room to grow without the wolf nipping at their heels.

  Marc listened to the conversation with only a little guilt and a lot of confusion. He had just gotten back and gone to the medical tent first, expecting her to be there recovering. Instead, he’d been told she was on guard duty in the parking area. He was pissed, wanting to tell her to get back to bed, but even with all that frustration, their words sank in. Had his sweet Angie ordered a hit? And why wasn’t Adrian telling her the Eagles would handle it and she would be in the back?

  Marc scowled in the darkness, making Dog’s ears tense. Because she wouldn’t be. If the blond had his way, Kenn the Destroyer would be on his right and Angela the Witch would be on his left. With that type of an opening line, a Leader would be nearly invincible. There isn’t anything, it seemed, that the pair wouldn’t do for Adrian. And he’d had brought her here, to this… savage garden. To the very place that would take her away again.

  6

  Kenn was on a high. Being back in everyone’s good graces had him feeling like there might be hope for the first time since he’d seen those two blazers in the street and known she was here. Saving Angela’s life had made up for all those little moments with the camp and even some of the Eagles. When he ducked into the medical tent hours after making the shot, he felt attention on him, but not in suspicion. If he wanted her dead, she already would be. He only wanted to talk…