by Jenna Kernan
The tension in his shoulders eased and he breathed deep before answering. “I already checked. Out of the hospital. Looking for you. Back at work.”
She pressed a hand to her forehead and sagged. “He’ll be all right.”
“If you keep clear of him.”
She nodded and dropped her hand, lifting her head so she could meet his gaze. “Thank you for telling me and also for telling me that I can’t hurt you. That’s a great relief.”
He gave her a smile that transformed his expression. The twinkle in his eyes made her body buzz with excitement as she recognized something vital had changed between them. His hands stilled their rhythmic stroke of her upper arms and came to rest. He held her gaze.
It struck Brianna that she could kiss him and not worry that she might draw away some of his vitality. The freedom of that realization had her blinking stupidly at him.
She leaned forward, lifting her chin, angling her mouth. His breath caught.
“It won’t hurt you?” she whispered.
He lifted his thick brows and grinned. “Let’s find out.”
His broad hand went about her neck and he drew her toward him. His eyes dropped shut and he angled his head to receive her kiss. She gasped as the anticipation galloped through her. Why hadn’t she ever felt this connection with Jeffery? Why was this chemistry stronger with a stranger than with a man she respected, a man she’d almost killed?
She felt Mac’s arms go around her, strong arms, capable arms. She could kiss him, hold him and nothing terrible would happen. The freedom mingled with the anticipation hovering like a hummingbird the instant before it perches.
And then his mouth found hers. The gentle pressure increasing as his fingers delved into her hair. Pleasure fizzed in her blood like the tiny rising bubbles in a glass of champagne. A soft moan escaped her as she settled against his chest, coming to rest, coming home, coming alive after a long, long sleep. Her hands grasped, measuring the breadth of his chest and the round sturdy muscle of his shoulders.
Her mouth opened, and his tongue danced and thrust with a skill and confidence that made her go all liquid heat and pulsing need. She leaned close, pressed tight, and he captured her against his chest, the pressure a welcome relief and a tantalizing frustration.
His arms relaxed by slow degrees and still she clung. He gently clasped her chin in one firm hand as he drew her away with the other. She stared up at him, wanting more, needing his touch. She blinked, recoiled at her complete loss of control and then felt her cheeks flame.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
If he’d taken her backward to the wide, inviting bed, would she have gone? Yes, and her shame at the thought made her blush. What about Jeffery? How could she just forget him like that?
“My boyfriend is sick in the hospital and I’m kissing a stranger.”
“Your boyfriend is human, and he will get well if you stay away from him. You know that, right?”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
She nodded. “What do I do now?”
“Working on that. My colonel would love a female vampire.”
She stiffened and leaned back, her expression going tight.
He met her troubled gaze. “And that is why he shouldn’t have one.”
“I’d be a military experiment.”
“Yes.”
She gripped his hand. “What do they do to you?”
He shook his head, unwilling to tell her all that they’d been through, were going through, and in that instant he made up his mind. They weren’t doing that to her. He’d protect her if he could and help her escape if he couldn’t.
He gave her hand a squeeze. “I won’t let them take you.”
Chapter 6
Mac headed to the lab the next day to donate more blood to their damned research. He supposed they needed it to figure out how to turn Johnny back, but lately he felt like a pincushion. Then he endured another tedious brain scan in both his forms. His mind was on Bri, alone in his quarters. He hoped that if those males showed up, he’d have time to reach her before they took her. He also worried about Johnny, who was now on the firing range getting shot. Johnny said Lewis treated him like a big dumb animal when Mac wasn’t there and that worried him. Mac’s request to remain with his friend had been denied because they needed more blood. When they finally dismissed him from the infirmary, he got shipped off to the obstacle course, then to the firing range to practice shooting. When they ordered him back to medical, he disobeyed and didn’t go. He’d done that twice before and both times over Johnny. Mac had that feeling again, the one he got when things weren’t right.
Mac needed to find Johnny, make sure he was all right and then get back to Bri. He found his friend back in the cell they held him in when Mac wasn’t around. The air still held the acrid smell of gunpowder, and Mac had the sickening realization that the odor came from Johnny’s fur. He scanned Lam but saw no marks on his coat and no blood on the floor. But something was wrong with his corporal; he could tell with just one look at Johnny’s unfocused eyes. What had they done to him?
Lewis appeared just behind Mac. Clearly someone had alerted the commander about Mac’s failure to report. Mac wondered if this was the moment he and the colonel would go at it. A face-off had been brewing for some time. Mac could take the abuse, but he couldn’t stand to see Lam go through it. It was why he hadn’t accepted the offer to take a leave and visit his family. He didn’t trust them with Johnny.
“We wanted to give Johnny a little time before bringing you in,” said Lewis.
Mac’s brow furrowed and he dipped his chin, holding back but curling his hands into fist to keep the change from flashing through him like a grenade. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s fine. Just woozy from the sedative.”
Mac searched Johnny’s eyes, seeing instantly that Johnny was not fine. He could ask Lewis, but that meant questioning a senior officer. He could ask Johnny, but Johnny would just play stupid. His friend had made it very clear that he would not answer questions around anyone, and what first had seemed like paranoia now began to seem wise. But Johnny had made an exception for Brianna Vittori. Why did he let her see his intelligence when he would not show it to anyone at HQ? If they knew he understood, they wouldn’t treat him like a dumb animal. But they’d also clam up around him, as they did with Mac.
“He wasn’t cooperative when you left, so...”
Mac stepped closer. Johnny’s eyelids drooped. “He’s not fine.”
“No injury from the bullets. We tried the armor-piercing rounds. You two are bulletproof. That hide wears like Kevlar. Better. We even used a grenade. No damage.”
“Grenade? I didn’t agree to that.”
Lewis gave him a hard look. “You get a promotion I didn’t hear about?”
Mac’s nostrils flared as he stood between them, wanting to demand they release Johnny and knowing he trod a very fine line. Still, it took several deep breaths to keep himself from tearing at the bars with his bare hands. He and Johnny together could break through this cage. But instead of doing something so rash he just lowered his chin so the colonel couldn’t see the defiance there.
“No, sir.”
Lewis draped an arm around Mac’s shoulders, gave him a pat and released him. “He’s fine. The ME checked him. So did our vet.”
“Did you give him ear protection?”
“What? I’m not...no.”
Mac felt the rage building inside him like steam in a rusty pipe. Any minute he’d explode.
Lewis’s jaw went hard and he made Mac wait. “His eardrums are intact. Might have some ringing for a day or so, I suppose. They said he’d be asleep, but he never went out.”
Mac knew that Johnny would do everything he could not to black out
while in HQ. Maybe he was right. With growing unease, Mac wondered briefly what they had just done to him when he was out. His unease grew, gripping his chest, making it tight and his breathing shallow. He should have been here.
He turned to his commanding officer and stood at attention. “Permission to take Johnny to quarters, sir.”
Lewis made a face. “Granted. We’re done here anyway. You need help carrying him? I can get a transport.”
Johnny hated the transport cage. Called it his circus wagon.
Mac saluted. “I can carry him, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“You want the truck or you two going to run?”
Mac motioned for Johnny to stand. He didn’t. Mac’s stomach twisted. Mac motioned again for Johnny to rise, which he did—then he wobbled and sat down heavily.
“The truck, sir.”
Mac helped Johnny board and held on to him as they rode. Johnny couldn’t hear him, that much was clear. Through sign language, he gathered that Lam had covered his ears as best he could with his hands, but that gave only minimal protection. It seemed clear to Mac that the colonel had overstepped, which brought Mac back to the same damn question: Was he going to continue to serve his country, or was he going to take Johnny and go AWOL?
A year ago he had never dreamed it possible that he would consider such a thing. But a lot could happen in a year. He’d stayed for months in hopes that the medical staff could find a way to reverse Johnny’s condition. Instead they heaved grenades at him. Were they even trying to solve that problem or were they just seeing how much a werewolf could take? If they ran, Johnny would have no chance of being restored to human form. It was a terrible price to pay for insubordination. But no one would be shooting at them, either.
If they ran they’d be AWOL, and God knew the Marines would chase them relentlessly. And Mac would never be able to go home to his family, because that would be the first place they’d look. He thought of the business he planned to join with his dad. Mac’s chest ached at the thought of losing so much. He pictured his mom’s face as she smiled up at him and then his older sister, Bonnie, now married and expecting her first child. And Sean, who idolized him—what would he think when he heard his big brother was a coward who left his post and ran? Worst of all, he imagined the disappointment in his father’s eyes when he discovered that his eldest boy had failed to serve honorably. His father was a vet, and he loved his country as much as he loved his family. His dad and mom had been so proud when he joined the Corps. God, Mac didn’t want to have to break his father’s heart.
He’d have to ask Johnny. They’d have to make this choice together. Mac would do whatever Johnny wanted. But God, he didn’t want to lose his family. His heart ached as he thought of each person he loved and then imagined never seeing them again. It was a sacrifice he’d never considered. He knew he risked his life. But his reputation and his honor and now his family. The decisions weighed him down like stones.
If they ran, where would they go that the U.S. Marines could not find them? And, without the doctors of the Corps, how would he get Johnny back to his human form?
* * *
Mac got Johnny inside their quarters and to the futon, where Johnny collapsed, overcome by the day and the drugs they’d given him.
Mac day had been nearly as horrific, the only bright spot was finding his princess dozing on his bed. Her allure was nearly too much to bear. Only knowing Johnny was right down the hall, sick from drugs and impact injuries and possibly deaf as a result, kept Mac from approaching that bed. Instead he gave a gentle knock on the door and watched her eyes flash open. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, her brow descending as she oriented herself and turned to face him. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. He remembered their conversation, her discovery of exactly what she was, and he thought that Bri had good cause to weep.
“I fell asleep,” she said.
Her warm floral scent filled the air, luring him forward, but he held the doorknob like an anchor against rough seas and remained in place. “Yes. You hungry?”
“What time is it?”
“Eighteen hundred.”
She shook her head, sending her fiery curls tumbling over her shoulders. “What?”
“Supper time.” He closed the door. Mac couldn’t get away fast enough. Brianna Vittori was beautiful on any day, but tousled from sleeping in his bed, with her rosy cheeks and her hooded eyes, she was irresistible. But he had resisted through a strategic retreat. He double-timed it to the kitchen, surprised to find Johnny up and hunched over the open refrigerator. He knew that werewolves healed fast, but he was still surprised. The kitchen was Johnny’s domain, but he’d been nearly unconscious a minute ago.
“Can you hear me?”
Johnny nodded and glanced his way, his eyes clear and his expression sullen. Well, he had cause.
“Sedative? Has it worn off?”
Another nod and Johnny returned to the open refrigerator. He lifted a packed of ground chuck and tented his eyes.
“Yeah, fine.”
Johnny turned toward the counter and set aside the chuck.
“How do you feel?”
Johnny pressed a hand to his forehead and stomach simultaneously, then pantomimed being sick.
“You hungry?”
Johnny nodded.
“I’ll do it.”
Johnny pushed him aside and Mac let him.
He glanced back down the hall and hoped Bri didn’t cook, because if there was a turf war, Johnny would win. Mac thumbed toward his bedroom.
“She was sleeping in my bed.”
Johnny paused and studied him a moment then dragged the buns from the refrigerator and set them on the counter.
Mac pulled out the condiments, lettuce, onion and tomato and then turned on the oven.
“You okay with her being here?”
Johnny gave him a peeved look then gave him his back. He was definitely not fine with Bri being here.
Lam washed his hands and started making hamburger patties, way too big for the buns. Mac tore open a bag of fries and threw them in the oven to bake.
“I told her I’d protect her. You want me to put her out? I’ll put her out.” As Mac said it he knew he wouldn’t and prayed Johnny didn’t call that bluff.
Lam gave him a long look and then shook his head.
Mac breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the counter. “Thanks.”
Johnny glared and Mac met his steady stare. He stilled as he became cautious.
“You aren’t going to go for her, are you?” There was still the tiniest doubt that Johnny might try to kill Bri.
Down the hall, the bedroom door opened and then closed.
Johnny froze as if suddenly made of wax. Mac went to meet Brianna, wondering if Johnny would be here when they got back.
Bri paused at the first sight of Mac and gave him a tentative smile, full of uncertainty and hope. Her eyes were still red, but it only served to make her look more tragically beautiful. Man, she was a killer in more ways than one.
“Can I meet Johnny now?”
Mac smiled. “If you still want to.”
She blew out a breath and nodded. “Yes. I do.”
Mac led the way down the hall to find that Johnny had vanished. “She wants to meet you. So come out. That’s an order.”
Johnny stepped from behind the door frame momentarily filling the space. Bri gasped at the sight of him and went rigid for a moment, but she held her ground. Now Mac could smell her fear, liquid and tart as lemon juice.
Johnny’s eyes narrowed on her, sensing weakness. Mac took hold of her elbow and felt her tremors.
Mac walked her across the room and to her credit she kept her chin up and her eyes on Johnny as she moved stiffly forward. He paused to stand between them. Now what?
He cleared his throat. “Corporal John Lam, may I introduce Brianna Vittori.”
Johnny continued to glare. Mac kept his eyes on the corporal.
Bri extended her trembling hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Corporal. May I call you John?”
Johnny did a double take, looking from her hand to her face and finally to Mac, who found he could not speak for the lump in his throat. Of all the reactions he had expected from Bri, civility was not among them.
John had been in near isolation since their return. He saw the medical staff, all male, and the colonel and Mac. That was it. When was the last time a woman was kind to him or touched him? Mac felt the tension twist his gut.
Johnny wiped his dark, leathery hand on his hairy chest, never taking his eyes off Bri. Unlike a wolf’s paw, Johnny did not have pads and toes on his forelegs. His hands more resembled a gorilla’s, except the claws were long, curved and deadly. Then he extended his hand to meet hers, taking it gently between his thumb and forefingers for just the briefest instant before quickly releasing her. To her credit she did not flinch or give any outward sign she was frightened or repulsed. Her bright smile held even as he rose up to his full height, now standing like the man he had once been.
She craned her neck and held her gentle smile. “Can I help with dinner?”
Johnny shook his head and pointed to a bar stool. It wasn’t the warmest of welcomes, thought Mac. But he’d take it.
Brianna took a seat. “I don’t want to be any trouble. Did Mr. MacConnelly tell you that he told me I could stay?”
Johnny lifted his brow and glanced to Mac, likely to see if he had any issue with being called Mister instead of Sergeant. He didn’t. He was so damn thrilled that Bri was being kind to Johnny and that Johnny hadn’t attacked Bri that he had a lump in his throat the size of a peach pit. He couldn’t have spoken if he had tried.
Johnny nodded.
“Is it all right with you?”
He hesitated and then gave another affirmative.
