Storm Gathering

by Rebecca Zanetti

Nope. Not at all. Damn it.

  Before Jax could react to Grey's declaration about the Bunker, a knock sounded on the door, and a pretty blonde moved partially inside. “You wanted me?”

  It took Greyson a moment to recognize Vivienne Wellington. The shrink from the FBI profiling group and prison looked all fresh and shiny—except for the still healing wound across her neck. Last time he'd seen her, she'd been tied up and concussed after the president had kidnapped her and Maureen from Merc territory. “Hi.”

  She gave him a nod, her eyes narrowing.

  Raze partially stood, keeping an even distance between the shrink and his sister. “We told Storm he could ask you a couple of questions, Vinnie.”

  Vinnie. Cute name. Grey nodded. “I need to find Zach Barter.” Barter was the first real carrier of Scorpius, and he'd gone nuts trying to infect everyone else. He'd succeeded, and the government had locked him down. Temporarily.

  Vinnie looked around the room, seeming to take mental notes. “Barter was infected, turned into a sociopath, and decided to rape to infect his way through the world. When our infrastructure fell apart, he was let loose.”

  “Did you meet him?” Grey asked. God, he had to find that bastard and put a bullet between his eyes.

  She nodded. “I helped find him in the beginning, and I interviewed him several times. He was nuts.”

  Were shrinks supposed to say 'nuts?’ The woman was obviously not a normal shrink. “Where is he now?” Greyson asked.

  “Dunno.” She looked him right in the eyes. “He escaped months ago. Rumor has it that Vice President Lake secured his release for some reason. Maybe because of his knowledge about Scorpius.”

  Man, Grey really hated that guy. Lake was as dangerous as Atherton and needed to be taken out.

  Vinnie glared at him like an avenging angel. “Thus there was no need to kidnap Maureen and force Raze to betray his people. You totally wasted your time and could've gotten many of us killed.” She stopped speaking but clearly mouthed the word ‘dickhead’.

  Raze chuckled. “You can call him anything you want, gorgeous.”

  Gorgeous? Greyson studied the two. Interesting. Raze was with the little shrink.

  She rolled her eyes. “I'm trying not to swear so much. It bugs Lucinda.”

  “Who's Lucinda?” Grey asked.

  Vinnie blushed. “Am I done here?”

  Raze nodded. “Yeah. Moe and I will meet you in an hour for lunch.” He waited until she'd exited and shut the door before retaking his seat.

  Well. Grey certainly didn't have an ally with the shrink. “Maureen? A couple of the greenhouses have generators, and we've tried to keep them going. But we're almost out of fuel, so we need to know what to save. If anything.” God, he needed to talk to her. Just once.

  She nodded. “I understand. I can be ready to go in an hour.”

  “No,” Raze said, his strong face showing no give.

  Ah, fuck. Grey planted his hands on the table. “It's her decision. Not yours.”

  Maureen nodded. “That's true. It is my decision, and I'm going.”

  “You want to go?” Grey asked. He needed the words this time. “Moe?”

  “Yes,” she said, her gaze narrowing. “But just to get the job done. I don't think I'll need more than a week.”

  Jax pushed away from the table as if to give himself more room in case of a brawl. “Listen. Here it is. We want to work with you. The president is coming after all of us, and he has better forces. I mean, if he's still alive.”

  Grey frowned. “Word came back that his helicopter went down after fighting with you here.”

  “We shot it down,” Raze said easily. “But scouts couldn't find bodies. He and the VP might be off licking their wounds somewhere.”

  Yeah. A bastard like President Atherton would be hard to kill. Same with Lake. That guy was made of Teflon. “Then we should stick with our promises,” Grey said evenly.

  Jax sighed. “We want to. Just with a slight time delay. We share access to the Bunker, Damon can go undercover here, and Maureen will visit Merc territory as soon as we have a force to send with her. It's the best I can do.”

  Maureen's pale face filled with color. “I'm not a soldier, and I'm not under anybody's command. I'm going to Merc territory today. I want to.”

  That was good enough for Greyson. He gave Damon the signal and barely caught his buddy's sigh before he ducked low and covered his ears. Sucking in air, Grey tossed a stun grenade right behind Jax Mercury before lunging for the floor.

  The flashbang exploded, sending out a shockwave.

  Greyson's ears rang, but he leaped up and went for Raze just as Damon jumped for Jax. The Vanguard men had been caught off guard and were too slow to react. Seconds too slow. Greyson punched Raze beneath the jaw and followed up with a smash to the floor.

  Maureen lurched for him, striking against his back.

  He turned in time to see Damon choke out the Vanguard leader. Man, there'd be hell to pay for that one. Greyson grabbed Maureen's arm.

  Her eyes were cloudy, and her hair was wild around her shoulders. Confusion blanketed her features.

  “You'll be okay. It'll pass in an hour. Or two.” Greyson slipped an arm over her shoulders, feeling like shit that she'd been impacted. One of his eyes was a little blurry. “We need to act natural and get out to the truck. There are soldiers in harm’s way.”

  She blinked twice. Then her lips pursed. “You asshole,” she slurred. Her right hand came up almost in slow motion, her fingers curling into a fist just in time to glance off his jaw.

  He let her hit him, kind of, and then leaned in. “Listen. We're armed, and we'll take out anybody who tries to stop us.”

  Her eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to scream.

  He tightened his hold and leaned in closer. “Don't make me kill anybody.”

  She paused. “You are not kidnapping me again,” she hissed, looking at her brother with concern.

  Raze was already starting to stir, and Jax wouldn't stay down for long. They had to get the hell out of there.

  “I'm not. You said yes this time. Stop worrying. Your brother will be fine,” Greyson said, opening the door to see nobody waiting. Excellent. All they had to do was walk calmly out to the waiting Humvee before anybody raised an alarm. They'd be on the escape route in less than a minute. They walked by what looked like a mess hall.

  A couple of men stood by the far door, across the expanse of tables, arguing about something. Greyson paused, looking for weapons.

  “Grey?” Damon asked. “Move. Now.”

  Grey reached for his gun at spotting a semi-automatic at one guy's waist.

  Maureen shoved him. “What are you doing?” She gasped for air.

  Damon grabbed him. “Dude. We have to go. Now.”

  Damn it. He had to act cool. Greyson clasped Moe's arm again and pulled her out into the bright sunlight. “Walk normally to the vehicle so nobody gets shot.”

  She walked stiffly by him, her gaze darting around.

  He shook his head. “There's no escape, baby. And Maureen? This time, it was your choice to come.” Yeah. He'd asked her outright, and she'd said yes. “The rules have changed.”

  * * *

  Three hours after being kidnapped again, Maureen sat in the back of the Humvee, her head still aching a little bit from the flash grenade. Raze had shielded her, or she'd have a hell of a headache. Grey had been tense and on alert since they’d left Vanguard territory, taking back road after back road on the way to Santa Barbara. Finally, the smell of the ocean wafted through the open windows.

  She'd given Grey and Damon the silent treatment as she fought her slight headache, but as the gate for Merc territory came into view, she straightened up. “This is kidnapping.”

  Grey didn't look her way. “Nope. You said yes this time.”

  Damon kept point out his window. “For all we knew, you were being held captive there. You did say you wanted to go, and Mercury said no.” Amusement darkened Damon’
s tone.

  Moe shoved her unruly hair away from her face. “Don't be obtuse, Damon.” She reared up. “Aren't you a cop? You guys just blew up a flashbang in Vanguard territory. You hurt them.”

  Grey looked over his shoulder finally. “Raze and Jax are fine. I'm sure they got worse injuries in military training exercises before Scorpius.” He glanced toward Damon. “I sure as shit did. You, Damon?”

  The ex-cop nodded. “They're probably already on the road after us.”

  Grey slowed down as they approached the first gate. Maureen looked around. She'd been asleep the last time they drove through Merc territory. Barbed wire fencing was wrapped around what looked like a beach community. Tires, trucks, and even semi-trailers were lined around, blocking entry.

  Or exit.

  “This is similar to Vanguard,” she murmured.

  Greyson nodded. “There aren't many ways to secure a large section of land.” He nodded at two men who quickly rolled the fence away. Once through, he drove down a street lined with mansions. It was definitely the upper end of Santa Barbara.

  She studied him. To think. A baby they'd created was now growing inside her. How freaking crazy was that? She didn't even know him. But her kid would have good genes—physically, anyway. Greyson was well over six feet tall with cut muscles and obvious grace. Would their child have his odd eyes?

  Would their child even survive to be born?

  Would she tell Grey about the kid? Right now, it didn't seem like a protective thing to do. She couldn't stay long-term in Merc territory. Maybe Greyson wouldn't even want a kid. Worse yet. What if he did?

  He nodded at different patrols—all men in black T-shirts with big guns.

  Her stomach ached. She'd never get out of here if he didn't let her. A shiver overtook her. She had no power, and she hated that. It wasn't fair. “You can't build a society by just kidnapping people,” she said. Yet even her brother hadn't been willing to listen to what she wanted. “We've gone back a hundred years.”

  Greyson stopped the Humvee at new mansion down the road from the one where she’d stayed before. The president had blown that one up. “We've gone back more, sweetheart. Sorry.”

  No. That absolutely wasn't okay. “Might can't make right. If so, why the hell are we fighting?” she asked.

  He jumped out and opened her door, extending his hand. “We're fighting to survive.”

  There had to be more than that. She let him help her out. At the touch, heat and strength engulfed her entire hand. A spark flew up her arm, and she coughed to cover her reaction. So what. Biology always got in the way. A memory of his kiss crashed into her mind, and her heart rate picked up.

  He shut the door. Keeping her hand, he strode toward the front porch. “We need to talk.”

  Well. That didn't sound ominous.

  Damon cleared his throat from behind her. “I'll just grab some fresh clothes and give you guys the house.”

  She wanted to protest, but curiosity grabbed her. What did Greyson want to talk about? His hold was gentle but firm, his hand warm and strong. Just who was he? Was there a chance he was a decent guy, the kidnapping notwithstanding? She had said she wanted to check out the food resources, and that was crucial. Or did she just want him to be a good guy? Somehow?

  They entered the home and walked through the living area. This one was decorated in warm beach tones. Without warning, somebody grabbed her arm and jerked her away. An arm banded around her waist and hauled her against a bony male body.

  She cried out and struggled, stopping when a gun barrel pressed against her temple. Her breath stopped. The guy holding her felt tall, and his arm was cutting off her air.

  A man dressed in the Mercenary’s black T-shirt and jeans outfit stood to the side of Greyson with a gun pointed at Grey's head, and another man had a gun pointed at the back of Damon's head.

  Greyson ignored the gun to his face and stared at her. “You'll be okay,” he said calmly, his eyes swirling into a deep grayish-green. “I promise.” He kept her gaze until she gave a short nod, careful not to nudge the gun at her head.

  Grey turned toward the nearest threat. “You sure you want to do this, Lackson?”

  Lackson, a shorter guy of around thirty, had slicked-back blond hair and crooked teeth. His body was wiry, and his hand shook around the gun. He swallowed, his Adam's apple visibly moving. “We just want the drugs, man. The clinic is too well guarded. I know there's coke and meth in there. Just get us the drugs, and we'll let her go.” He backed away.

  “I say we keep her,” said the guy holding her. His arm moved up toward her breasts.

  Greyson growled. He actually growled.

  The arm stopped. The body behind her jerked in an odd shiver.

  Greyson glared over her head. “You're not steady, and that gun doesn't have a safety, Cromwell. Take the gun away from her head before you accidentally shoot her. Because if you do, I'm going to gut you and make you eat your own intestines before you die.”

  Damon kept silent, watching the interplay.

  Cromwell slowly moved the gun away from her head. She started to breathe again, her hand going instinctively to her abdomen.

  Greyson attacked.

  Chapter Ten

  The enemy is all around us.

  —Greyson Storm, Letters to Miss Julian

  Grey had gone stone-cold the second he saw the pistol pressed to Moe's head. He kicked Lackson's gun out of the way and lunged for Cromwell, jerking him completely away from Maureen. He chopped down on Cromwell's wrist, sending the weapon to the floor. Then he grabbed the bastard by the neck and threw him into the wall.

  The guy hit hard and fell forward, arms windmilling.

  A quick glance confirmed that Damon had secured the gun that had been on him and now held it on Lackson and a guy named Smith. The two junkies cringed against the sofa.

  Greyson turned back to Cromwell.

  The guy was about forty and had been an okay soldier. Not a leader but could handle himself in a fight. Of course, that was before he'd started in on the drugs.

  “Damon?” Grey asked. “Did you know we had a drug problem?”

  “Don't think we do,” Damon said quietly. “Just these guys do.”

  Cromwell stared at him, his eyes a furious green, his hair salt and pepper. “I don't have a drug problem, dickhead.”

  Interesting. Lackson definitely did. “Then why do you want drugs?” Grey asked quietly, noting that Maureen had edged around the sofa toward the big fireplace and away from any fight. Smart.

  Lackson followed her movements.

  Oh. The bastard wanted Maureen. Fury lit down Greyson's spine, and he quelled it. “You shouldn't have touched her,” he said quietly.

  Damon audibly caught his breath.

  Grey ignored him.

  “Why?” Cromwell sneered. “We can only have whores here, so you think she's just yours? She's not.” He looked at Maureen, contempt in his eyes. “You're not safe. You get that, right? He'll pass you around just like the others.”

  Greyson partially turned and threw a punch, nailing Cromwell in the nose. Blood spurted, going everywhere.

  Cromwell flew back again, cried out, and grabbed his face. “You asshole.” His words were slurred, and blood bubbled between his fingers.

  Greyson stared at him. He turned toward Maureen. She watched the interaction with wide eyes, a round mark on her temple from where the gun had pressed. The sight of it nearly made Greyson lose what little control he had left. “Sweetheart? I need you to go to your room now. It’s past the living room to the right and has a great view of the ocean.” He tried to keep his voice gentle.

  She only blinked.

  Damn it. She was in shock. “Moe.” He put snap in his voice.

  She jumped but otherwise didn't move.

  Cromwell rushed him, going for a tackle. Man, Grey would like to extend this, but Maureen was watching, and he couldn't get her to leave the room. So he partially turned, wrapped his arm around Cromwell's neck, and fl
ipped the asshole. His neck broke with a loud crack.

  Grey dropped the body, which let out a death rattle and bounced twice on the ground.

  Maureen gasped, falling back against the fireplace, her eyes wide and focused on the dead body. She paled so quickly she swayed.

  Grey waited until she lifted her shocked gaze. “He touched you,” he said quietly.

  The two guys against the sofa started talking long and fast. Begging, really. Greyson silenced them with a wave of his hand. “Damon? Do an all-call. I want to see everyone who isn't patrolling out on the street. Right now.”

  Damon nodded and reached for a short-range radio on the kitchen counter, sending out the all-call.

  Grey turned toward a visibly trembling Maureen. “Go to your new room, honey. I'll talk to you when this is finished.” His chest ached at the terror all but rolling off her. He'd caused that fear, but there wasn't anything he could do to reassure her right now. If he was to keep her safe, he had to be the bastard he was rumored to be. So he grabbed Cromwell's body by the hair and dragged it out the front door and down to the street, where his men were already gathering.

  Damon kept a gun on the other two, forcing them down the driveway.

  Greyson dropped the body in the middle of the street, waiting until nearly forty men stood around. He'd talk to the other thirty when the patrols changed shifts. “I can't be any clearer than this. Cromwell touched Maureen Shadow, who's here under my protection. This is what happens.”

  The men around him, all soldiers now, whether they'd been before Scorpius or not. Serious eyes, hard stances, they looked at the dead body crumpled in the street with little emotion.

  Grey jerked his head at the other two. “They didn't touch her, but they put her in danger.” He took his gun from his holster and shot both men so quickly they didn't have time to object. Right between the eyes. A chest shot was better, but he had a point to make.

  The bodies fell.

  There were a few indrawn breaths, but mostly silence came from his people.

  Greyson looked around. “If there's anybody who doesn't want to stay here, who doesn't want to live by my rules, then you can leave right now. Take a week's provisions and go.”