by Jenna Kernan
He hoped she’d get away and that made him a traitor.
Mac had acted like those fucking rear-echelon motherfuckers, calling the shots and doing a shit job. Disobeying direct orders, he thought. Shit. He never would have believed...but he never would have thought that vampires were other than monsters. Still, if he was no longer a Marine, what the fuck was he?
Johnny was close now, he could smell him.
Mac couldn’t decide if he should stay in his wolf form or switch to human. Why didn’t he hear anything? No sound of struggle, no roar of fury. Just the sound of his own breathing and the pads of his feet tearing into soft earth.
He caught sight of the supply depot. The door lay hanging open, and the barricades were still braced against the windows on either side. Mac scanned the area and found him. A big black mound of fur lying on the ground. Bits of dried leaves and grass stuck to his glossy coat. Why hadn’t they taken Lam in?
Mac ran past Johnny and into the depot. The furniture, boxes and supplies lay strewn about, showing signs of a struggle of some kind.
He roared for Bri and was met with silence. They’d taken her. Mac retraced his steps, checking Johnny and finding him breathing, but out. Mac retracted his gums and found no stab wound. How had they done it?
The answer to his questions came a moment later when he heard a familiar thunk. He knew it. Grenade launcher.
They’d left Lam as bait and were about to use on Mac the same weapon they’d used on him. Percussion grenade? he wondered, as the unfamiliar canister rolled into view.
Mac’s training was to dive for cover, but instead he hoisted the nine-foot werewolf onto his back and made use of his speed, running in the opposite direction as the grenade exploded behind him in a great plume of smoke.
Gas, he realized, closing his mouth and plugging his nose with his free hand. His eyes burned and he could not see where he was running, but he stayed on his feet. To fall was to go down, and if he breathed that gas he would not get up.
Now he understood how they had stopped Johnny and how they had taken Bri.
The smoke began to clear. He could see the ground, but he kept up the pace, his lungs burning, demanding the air he withheld.
Not yet. You don’t know what they used. It might still take you out.
The Marines were nearby. They’d have more gas, might be aiming at him already. He changed course, veering off as a new canister of gas exploded in the direction he had been running.
He had no choice but to breathe, drawing one long desperate breath, and he instantly felt dizzy. Johnny shifted against him and groaned. Mac patted his leg and used some of his precious oxygen to growl. Johnny relaxed and Mac charged on. He knew these woods and made for a culvert that would be good cover and difficult for Marines to reach with any equipment. Not that this would stop them for long, but he only needed to get Johnny up again.
He slid on his ass down most of the incline, happy to disappear into the wild rhododendron bushes that lined the stream. Once at the bottom, he rolled Johnny to his back and flopped down beside him, gasping and spent.
Johnny threw a hand over his eyes and groaned. Mac rolled to one side and threw up. Lam tried to rise and fell back down. Mac grabbed him by the elbow and tugged. His gunner went still and Mac listened for signs of pursuit but heard none.
Then he called the change, gritting his teeth as his body contorted. Now he was naked, which was awkward, but at least he could speak to his friend.
Johnny turned his head in Mac’s direction and groaned, panting now.
“The gas made you sick.”
Johnny nodded and pinched his eyes closed.
“They used a recording of you to lure me away. By the time I realized, I was too far off to help.”
Lam groaned and tried again to push himself up.
“They took her.”
Johnny’s head dropped back to the ground.
Just saying it out loud hurt like a body blow. What the hell were they going to do now?
“She’s gone.”
Johnny threw back his head and bellowed, rolled to his hands and knees, swayed dangerously and then began writing frantically. Mac squatted beside him and read.
What do with her?
It was a question he couldn’t answer. “I don’t know. Study her, maybe, like they are with us.” Mac felt sure he would puke as the fear for her safety attacked him.
His friend held his gaze, and Mac saw sympathy in his friend’s dark eyes.
“I disobeyed a direct order coming back for you both. Lewis wants you back in a cage and me beside you. Smartest thing for you to do is take off before they find us.”
Johnny wrote, You?
“I’m going after her.”
Johnny nodded and then studied Mac’s face. Finally he wrote, I go 2.
“No. If they catch you, then you are in that fucking cage for good. I won’t have it.”
My choice.
“You take orders from me, Lam. Don’t forget it.”
Johnny shook his head and used his fingers to pantomime walking. He was coming, too. Following him into another goddamn building, only this time what awaited them was worse than a fucking werewolf—it was the entire U.S. Marine Corps.
“Johnny, I can’t stand it if something bad happens to you, something else, I mean. And I can’t stand to think what they are doing to her right now.”
Mac fell forward onto outstretched arms and bowed his head. He couldn’t draw breath. A wave of dizziness rocked him. What if they hurt her? He covered his mouth with one hand to stifle a cry. Then he dragged his hands up over the short bristle of his hair and laced his fingers together behind his head like a captured prisoner of war. The truth struck him hard.
He loved her.
That was why he slept with her. Not to scratch her itch or because she had a cute ass or any other damned excuse he fed himself.
“Johnny, I think I’m in love with her.”
Johnny held Mac’s panicked stare and gave a nod.
“I have to save her,” he said to Johnny.
His corporal pointed back toward base.
“Yes. After we get her, you know we’ll have to go AWOL.”
His friend did not hesitate but gave another slow nod. Then he extended his hand. Mac took it. When had they both stopped being soldiers and become a tribe of two?
Mac focused his energy for the change and braced as the pain swept through him like acid. They were a team again, both focused on one goal. Recapture Bri.
They were Marines. They’d improvise.
They started toward the medical center, knowing that Bri was there in the underground facility.
As they ran, Mac considered what he was doing. It was just like the night he’d ordered his Fire Teams into that building. Then, he knew he’d made a critical error. Only this time he had a chance to make it right.
Chapter 16
Bri struggled, and the metal handcuffs clanged against the stainless steel rails as she shrank away from Sarr. Her eyes fixed on the needle he carried and the clear fluid within. Sarr never looked at her and never touched her as he lifted the clear tubing.
“No, wait,” she said.
He injected the liquid into a juncture in the tubing. A moment later her vein burned. An instant later her skin tingled. She tried to remove the IV but the restraints stopped her and then there was a rushing sound as everything went black.
The next thing she knew she was shivering violently, curled on her side and huddled in a tangle of sheets and thin cotton blankets. The smell of bleach and disinfectant reminded her of the nursing home where she’d once volunteered.
My God, she thought, had she hastened the deaths of any of the elderly there? No, she realized, because she had been younger then, not as dangerous as she was now
that she had become a woman. That was what her nana had told her.
Her head ached, and she lifted her hands to cover her eyes. The light was too bright. It felt as if the fluorescent bulbs were burning the tissue behind her eyes. There was a steady pulse of pain that accompanied each beat of her heart. And the waves of nausea told her she was either touching metal or was too damn close to it.
Where was she?
“Mac?” she whispered.
She panted as the pain grew worse and the memories fell upon her like a pack of hungry wolves. Her capture, and then the colonel saying he’d use her eggs to create more of her kind.
He couldn’t. She had to stop him. Had to escape. She lifted one hand from her eyes and peered out squinting against the ripping pain that traveled through her skull. But she could see a blurry image of the bed. A metal hospital bed that had been slightly elevated to lift her torso. A thin mattress separated her from the hated steel. Was she still in the medical facility, or had they moved her? Her eyeballs seemed to pulse with her heart, but she could make out the bedding—white cotton sheets again. She used one hand as a visor and kept the other one pressed securely to her opposite eye as she glanced down at the blue-and-white hospital gown.
Had she had surgery?
She slipped both hands over her abdomen and found no pain, no bandages, but she wasn’t sure how eggs were harvested. Could they have taken one or more? She didn’t know. Bri then extended her gaze beyond the bed. Even this slight movement made her stomach pitch. The sour taste in her mouth warned her to move gingerly.
Bri stilled as a realization struck her. They had not cuffed her wrists to the bed rails. She lowered her arms and endured the avalanche of pain from the blinding light.
Opposite her bed was a gray metal door with a brushed nickel latch. The white walls to either side were cinder block and lacked the customary light switch that usually sat just inside a door. A chill that had nothing to do with the thin blanket lifted the hairs all over her body. This was a prison cell.
She was alone, but she felt as if someone were watching her. Bri tried and failed to sit up. That was when she heard the whirring sound. She opened her eyes and glanced toward the door. The whirring stopped.
Bri listened. Nothing.
Then she lifted her gaze to the ceiling, squinting against the bright lights. And then she saw it. Her gaze flicked to the small black dome of plastic. A camera mounted in the corner where the walls met the ceiling. There was another behind her in the right corner.
Bri grabbed the hem of her hospital gown and tugged it down to cover her hip.
“Colonel Lewis? Are you there?”
There was a click and then a reply, slightly distorted by the speaker she could not locate.
“Yes, Brianna. How are you feeling?”
She ignored the question. Anger flared inside her, sharp as cut glass.
“You won’t get away with this.”
His voice came back, calm and filled with smug superiority. “Feel free to write your congressman.”
“Mac will get me out of here.”
The colonel’s chuckle filled the room. “Werewolves are immune to your kind. He’s not your puppet. He’s a Marine and a damn fine one.”
“He’ll come.”
“Extremely doubtful, since he is the one who turned you in.”
“Turned...” The shock of his words hit her like a slap. She fell back to the mattress. Was it possible? Could Mac have abandoned her, or was this just a lie? “I don’t believe you.”
“No difference to me what you believe.”
Uncertainty tugged. Had Mac betrayed her? No, she wouldn’t believe it. She lifted her chin and stared at the camera. “He’ll come.”
“I hope you’re right. Now just relax. We’re prepping the OR for you.”
* * *
Mac paused in the woods beside the stream to collect a rumpled, musty set of clothing from one of his drops. Lam stopped beside him and cast an impatient look as Mac tugged the sweater over the rumpled T-shirt and then zipped his pants.
The stark reality of his choice loomed large. It was a decision he had already made, but he did not have the right to make it for Johnny.
“When I go after her, it’s over. You understand? I’ll have to go AWOL.”
Johnny gave a slow nod.
“If you come with me, we’ll be on the run. All of us, and they’ll never give up trying to bring us in.”
Johnny’s nod showed he knew this as well.
“But if you stay behind, then they won’t blame you. You’ll still have a chance.”
Johnny growled.
Mac’s head sunk. “Johnny, I got you into this mess. I ordered you into that building and I...” He couldn’t finish that. He swallowed back the guilt. “But I always thought...think...that they’ll find a cure. I couldn’t have gone on unless I believed that. But if you go, you’re stuck like this. For good, you understand? Stay here. It’s your only chance.”
Johnny glared.
“It’s an order.”
Johnny shook his head, apparently also done with taking orders. He lifted his hands as if gripping something. Bars, he realized.
“They’ll lock us up. Yeah. Sure as shit.”
Johnny held his position and Mac understood. “They’ll lock you up either way?”
It was true. A truth they both understood.
Mac glanced away and then back to meet his friend’s gaze. “If I could, I’d trade places with you.”
Johnny exhaled in a long blast and then gave him a rough pat on the shoulder, hard enough to buckle most men at the knees.
“I’ll never forgive myself. And I won’t give up until we find a way back for you, too.”
Johnny pointed at the road.
“Yeah. I just...I don’t know...Johnny, I don’t want to make another mistake. What if this is another bad idea? What if...” Mac hunched with his hands on his knees like a runner after a race. He blew out a breath and spoke to the ground. “If she dies or you die...”
Johnny pointed toward the medical facility.
Mac hesitated. “I can get her out. There is no reason for us both to throw everything away.”
Johnny inhaled and then his head snapped up. An instant later Mac smelled it, too. The scent was sweet and metallic, like blood, but there was more, a deeper cloying fragrance of blooming jasmine and beneath that the musty stink of a carnivore.
The hairs on his neck lifted. Vampires!
Johnny’s ears flattened back. Mac stripped from his clothing and changed to his werewolf form as Lam stood guard. Mac followed his comrade, who went after the scent on all fours, not because he had to, but because it kept his nose to the ground and his body low and out of sight. They were heading back to the place where Brianna had been taken. Before they reached the building they found what they were tracking.
Flesh eaters. Six of them.
Mac’s hackles rose. Johnny dropped down into cover.
The vampires’ skin was pinkish, like the skin of a newborn rabbit, but their eyes were rimmed with crimson. Their misshaped heads resembled humans but for the slitlike noses and prominent fangs that protruded over thick, liver-colored lips.
The males had found the place where Brianna had been.
He and Johnny were outnumbered three to one. To kill them, Mac needed to hold one long enough for it to bleed out. That would be challenging with two of its fellows attacking him. How long did it take to bleed to death?
Depends on the size of the hole, he decided.
“Too many,” he said to Johnny.
There was no choice now. The vampires would track Bri to the medical facility and even the heavy guard would be useless, because once the flesh eaters went to top speed, the Marines would be helpless as toddlers agai
nst them. “We have to get Bri, now.”
Mac ran with Johnny on his heels. How fast could a male vampire travel? He thought of Brianna, moving so quickly she disappeared, and ran faster.
Mac cut through the woods, the shorter path for someone running. If they could catch the colonel before they reached the facility he had a chance of retrieving her. After that...
Mac ran faster.
Would he have to kill his fellow soldiers to take her?
Mac felt something snapping inside himself as he recognized that he would do whatever it took to get to Bri, and he’d kill anyone who stood in his way.
* * *
“Bring her out,” said a male voice.
Bri tried to relax her clenched jaw as the footsteps approached. Her bed moved. She peered through her eyelashes as they rolled her into the corridor. They paused at a locked door and were buzzed through. The bed began to roll again, into an elevator. The doors swished shut.
“She out?” asked a voice behind her.
“Not sure,” came the reply.
When the doors opened she found an escort of four armed Marines.
“Secure the prisoner.” The voice was deep with a Texas twang and was wholly unfamiliar. She saw the glint of handcuffs and bolted, running blindly.
“Where’d she go?” asked one of the men from the elevator.
She ran in a circle around the entranceway, pausing to try the two doors. They opened with a key card, like hotels, she realized.
“There she is.”
Bri turned to face them. There was no way out. They were on her a moment later, strong hands gripping her, dragging her back to the gurney. It took the men no time at all to handcuff her to the raised bed rails and wheel her through the door. Her wrist began to burn. Blisters formed, broke and wept. But she welcomed the pain, because it helped her fight the drug that threatened to gobble her up. Bri watched to see who had the plastic key card as they swept through the next set of doors, and she noted where he kept it. Unfortunately the Marine with the key card remained behind with the other three as she continued through the open door with her original two escorts.
This corridor was wide. She passed several rooms that looked like operating theaters. She rattled against her restraints as she repeated one word—no.
