Caught in the Aftermath

by Jami Gray

  ‘Not unless she’s psychic.’

  That earned a lip twitch, but she wasn’t done. ‘You here for her?’

  ‘No. I need to speak to Reaper.’

  Her arms folded over her chest and her eyes narrowed. ‘I know he’s not expecting you.’

  Since it wasn’t a question, he stayed silent.

  She studied him while the quiet hummed between them. Coming to some internal decision, she dropped her arms and stepped in close, her arm going back around his waist. ‘Right, let’s make tracks, Math.’

  With her help, he straightened from the wall, one arm wrapped around his ribs, the other slung over her shoulder. They continued down the street. He concentrated on staying upright and allowed her to steer him. Only when they approached a softly lit building did he break the silence. ‘Are you going to return the favor?’

  She turned to look up at him. ‘Favor?’

  ‘Name.’ He deliberately mimicked her earlier demand.

  ‘Really?’ She looked away, shaking her head as she avoided the night-shrouded courtyard pooling in front of a single storey building bridging two four-storey structures. Leading him around the building’s side, she took him further into the shadows, bypassing the faint illumination of the solar lights lining the curving walkway. ‘Shouldn’t you know it since you’re supposed to be a master ninja-spy or some such shit?’ She didn’t wait before adding irreverently, ‘Maybe Mercy was just blowing smoke.’

  Normally her attitude would piss him off, instead he found himself fighting a grin. Not bothering to correct her ‘master ninja-spy’ part, he repeated, ‘Or some such shit.’ He could practically feel her eyes roll. ‘Are you testing my skills, woman?’

  ‘You have skills to test?’ she shot back as they moved along the narrow walkway.

  This time he let his grin escape. ‘You tell me,’ he paused, then added, ‘Vex.’

  ‘As if that was a challenge.’ They reached a small stoop leading to a utilitarian door complete with heavy-duty locks and wire mesh covering the thick, inset window. Keeping her arm around his waist, she dug out a set of keys with her free hand. Grabbing the metal railing, she tilted her head and considered him from under her long lashes. ‘Can you do stairs?’

  He considered her question. ‘More than this?’ At her nod, he braced. ‘Take it slow, I’ll manage.’

  He endured her study as she weighed his appearance against his words, then she dipped her chin in acknowledgement. ‘Hang tight.’

  He leaned against the railing as she unlocked the door and propped it open. Back at his side, she wrapped her arm around his waist. ‘Ready?’

  Together they made it up the short set of cement stairs and into a narrow hall. Once inside, she reset the locks before leading him down the hall. Light filtered from the end and the faint noise of activity rippled against the well of silence they moved in. She paused at a door under an old exit sign. Using her hip, she bumped it open and then led him into a stairwell.

  Faced with a mountain of stairs, he couldn’t stop his question. ‘How many?’

  ‘Two floors.’

  Shit on a stick, this was going to be a bitch. ‘Guess an elevator is too much to ask for?’

  ‘You’re the one who wanted to avoid eyes, my man.’

  ‘Right.’

  His dread didn’t get a chance to build, because she began hauling his tired ass up the stairs. Even though they went slow, it cost him, leaving him gritting his teeth. By the time they hit the third floor, a film of clammy sweat clung to his spine and his head felt like an oversized balloon.

  ‘Stay with me, Math.’

  Holding on to that low voice, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other in a jerky shuffle until they hit the next door. She held him still. He managed to stay upright as she opened the door and did a quick look-see. Coast clear, they moved into a wider hall, this one was well lit and carpeted. He barely dragged his feet as they shuffled down the hall.

  ‘Here.’ She propped him against the wall next to a door, got it opened, and disappeared inside. He took advantage of the momentary respite and sucked in a couple of shallow breaths. Light spilled out of the doorway, curling around Vex as she came back. ‘Come on in, hot shot.’

  He stumbled inside and stood there, his mind fuzzy but taking in the room. The light left the interior a study of shadows. Shapes indicated furniture and he aimed for what appeared to be a couch. The sound of the door closing and locks being thrown chased him. He managed to conquer a couple more steps before Vex’s hand on his arm pulled him to a stop. ‘Wrong way.’

  ‘I need to lie down.’

  ‘See that, but not here.’ She steered him through the dark room and into another one. ‘This works better.’

  She hit the lights, revealing a spartan but comfortable space. A standing closet partnered with a set of drawers, while a pair of mismatched chairs completed the décor. A jumble of leather he recognised as saddlebags for a bike clung to one of the chairs. But what caught and held his attention was the bed sprawled under an intricate metal headboard and situated between two upended wooden crates acting as nightstands.

  Forcing his protesting body to move, he aimed for the tempting expanse. Vex stayed at his side, providing a much-needed brace as he sank to the bed. He sat on the edge, and the fuzz in his head started darkening around the edges. Before it could win, a bright flash of light off metal snapped his attention back, but not before Vex set her blade to his shirt.

  Over the sound of ripping material, he managed, ‘What the hell, woman? That’s my good shirt.’

  She knocked his hands away. ‘Relax.’ One last slice and his t-shirt, stiff with blood, dirt and whatever else he managed to bring back from the alley, hit the floor.

  ‘Glad I wasn’t wearing my jacket.’ Come to think of it, where did his jacket get to? Replacing it would be a bitch.

  Warm hands cradled his jaw, corralling his scattered thoughts. He stared into the provocative angles of Vex’s face as she crouched between his knees. Any other time her position would present all sorts of intriguing possibilities for him to consider. Right now he was lucky to keep her in focus, a feat he managed by concentrating on the gold flecks in her eyes. Her lips moved. ‘Need you to lay back.’

  Lying down sounded like something he could do. It might be all he could do for the moment. He braced his arm against the mattress and began to sink down. Vex went to work on his boots. Her careful movements, slight though they were, left him gritting his teeth. ‘Leave them, please.’

  She shot him a dark look complete with a frown. ‘You’re not ruining my sheets. They either come off or I roll you to the floor.’ She didn’t wait for his response. Moments later his boots were on the ground and she was lifting his feet to the bed.

  Left with no choice, he carefully shifted from his side to his back. A sharp hiss escaped as he sucked in air. ‘That fucking hurt.’

  Finally prone he couldn’t stifle his groan of relief and his eyes drifted shut. It took a few seconds for his body to get with the program, muscles slowly unclenching as his mind slipped into an exhausted half-aware state. Something cool and wet pressed against his swollen eye. God that felt good.

  ‘Can you hold that?’ Vex’s voice blended with the hazy awareness and his hand rose to the compress. Her warm skin brushed against his palm as she slid her hand away, letting him hold it. ‘Going to get you cleaned up.’

  ‘I need to talk to Reaper.’ His tongue felt thick but she understood.

  ‘Anyone ever tell you patience is a virtue?’

  He blinked his other eye open to find her leaning over him. She was close, her hair falling forward, the ends of her braids shifting against his shoulder with a whisper of touch. He got caught in the unusual mix of colours in her gaze. Gold and brown, sprinkled with a hint of green until it melded into an incredible amber. It took a second for his brain to kick back into gear. As a man who prided himself on not being taken in by the fairer sex, his hesitation irritated the ever-loving shit ou
t of him, making his response curt. ‘I don’t know what you’ve heard, but virtue is not in my skill set. Neither is fucking patience.’

  Instead of the expected anger, she flashed a mischievous grin, then tapped the tip of his nose with a finger, throwing him completely off guard. ‘Nice.’

  Before he could figure out what the hell that was all about, she was gone, leaving him staring after her. She came back, armed with another washcloth and a dark bottle. He didn’t have the strength to sustain the argument so he kept his mouth shut, but continued to glare. Not surprisingly, she ignored his scowl.

  With a gentle and efficient touch she cleaned the blood from his face and worked her way down his chest. Logically he knew she was simply tending to his injuries. Unfortunately, his body took her attention in a completely different direction, leaving him grinding his teeth in an unsettling mix of embarrassment and frustration. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the faint scent of licorice rose as she applied anise oil, a natural antiseptic, to his now cleaned wounds.

  Finished, she straightened, half-turned to set the bottle on the nightstand, and then tossed the cloth aside. The solid splat as it hit a hard surface indicated an adjacent bathroom just out of his sightline. When she turned back to him, her hands went to her hips and her gaze swept over his body. ‘Right, how bad are the ribs?’

  Catching the slight hint of red under her cheeks, he felt a perverse flash of satisfaction. At least he wasn’t the only one affected. ‘I’ll live.’

  Her jaw flexed at his curt tone, but she didn’t back off. ‘Anything else we need to stitch or bind?’

  Wanting to get this, whatever this was, out of the way so he could get to the real reason he was here, he snapped, ‘I’ve survived worse. The sooner you get Reaper, the sooner you get your bed back.’

  ‘Did I bitch about you being in my bed, hot shot?’ Not waiting for his answer, she dropped her hands from her hips, turned, and walked over to the standing closet. Pulling it open, she dug around inside and yanked out a t-shirt, which she tossed at him. ‘Here.’

  Instinctively, he went to catch it before it hit his face, his fist closing on soft material. Pain shot up his ribs, leaving tiny white starbursts exploding along the edge of his vision.

  When he could see again, she was standing at the foot of the bed, exasperation clear in her face. ‘Think you can manage to put that on before you meet with Reaper?’

  His attempt to sit up failed and he laid back, unable to muffle his groan.

  A loud sigh sounded, then she was there, arm around his shoulders, as she helped him sit up. After a few choice words on his part, and muttered comments about fragile male egos on her part, they got the t-shirt on. He fought to stay upright. ‘Now that I’m decent, can I see Reaper?’

  ‘You sure you’re up for this?’

  Lifting his head took effort, but he managed. ‘If there was any other way, I wouldn’t be here.’ Going at this alone would be a spectacular failure, and that wasn’t acceptable. Cam’s life depended on him.

  She studied him, judging his intent. Reading him correctly she blew out a breath. Her gaze moved beyond him, staring at something only she could see as she worked through whatever was going on in her head. He could feel his body tilting to the side when she finally spoke. ‘Here’s the deal. Lay your ass back down and rest. I’ll get Reaper.’

  ‘I’ll go with you.’ He started to push off from the bed.

  She stopped him by dropping one hand on his shoulder and exerting pressure. She didn’t let up until he relented. ‘Don’t think so.’ He opened his mouth to protest but she got there first. ‘Straight up, you couldn’t make it out of this room unless you crawled. Even that’s doubtful. Besides, based on his reaction the last time he heard your name, you’re safer here.’ That comment warranted further conversation, but before he could pursue it, she continued. ‘Plus, tucked away here means the eyes looking for you stay blind.’

  All valid points. Facing Reaper was a test of endurance under normal circumstances. Beaten to hell and back made it that much more challenging. Shit was barreling down faster than he could shovel. No point in inviting more. His one-word answer came out reluctant. ‘Fine.’

  ‘Fine,’ she repeated, then proceeded to help him lay back down.

  Lying there, he drifted, listening to her move around. Something clinked against the headboard, but it wasn’t until cool metal snaked around his wrist, that his eyes flew open to find her leaning over him. He ignored his body’s protests and snapped his other hand up, wrapping it around her arm, digging in with bruising force. Too slow and too late. ‘What the hell?’

  Crouched down so they were face-to-face, she met his glare with a hard-eyed clarity as she tugged on the chain linking the handcuffs around the metal post of the bed. ‘I don’t want you pawing through my things.’

  Anger burned through him, but he understood the sentiment. ‘What do you think I’m going to do?’

  Ignoring his punishing grip, she shrugged before placing one arm on the bed and leaning in, her voice low. ‘Don’t know, don’t care. Stay out of trouble until I get back.’

  ‘Right,’ he cut out through clenched teeth.

  She flashed him a smile, twisted her arm out of his grip, and gave his cheek a soft pat. ‘Love you too, hot shot.’ She rose to her feet, went to the foot of the bed, and tugged a blanket out from under his feet. A snap of her wrists opened it. She laid it over him, then headed for the door.

  ‘Vex.’ It came out on a growl.

  At her name, she stilled in the now open door and looked over her shoulder.

  When he had her eyes, he said, ‘The next time you use cuffs on me, you’d better be ready for the consequences.’

  Her answering grin was full of wicked intentions he wished his body didn’t recognise. ‘Promises, promises.’

  Then she was gone, leaving him aching and cursing.

  Chapter 4

  After leaving Math tucked in her room, Vex headed back down the main stairs and towards Grave Hall’s common area. Even at this hour, people would be hanging around, including Reaper. She just needed a way to get boss man upstairs without invoking the others’ curiosity. God knew the folks of Pebble Creek loved their gossip. One of those facets of being part of a small town, something she was trying to come to terms with.

  Traditionally the Vultures avoided permanent residences, preferring life on the road. The only home she could recall before Pebble Creek was the ramshackle cabin she and her brother left behind in Oregon. Now each Vulture had a two-room suite on the third floor of the Hall. Which worked out great if you had to hide a six-foot-plus bundle of dark-haired trouble in your bed. The image took her mind into areas best left alone.

  Caught in her thoughts, she missed the last step of the stairs. The jolt of her misstep sent a twinge of fire up her inner thigh, reminding her of the necessity of making a quick side stop before tackling the common area. No sense limping in looking like she just finished tumbling through a grimy alley. Even if she had.

  She went through the door and into the large industrial kitchen, a leftover from the Hall’s previous incarnation. It was perfect for serving the variety of semi-permanent residents, travellers, and locals. It also proved useful when washing blood and grit from your face. She got a few steps in only to come face-to-face with the Hall’s caretaker, Worth.

  In the midst of wiping down the oversized stove, he looked up and frowned. ‘What the hell happened to you, girl?’

  She breezed by him, her goal the sink sitting under the night-blind window. ‘Minor disagreement in town.’ Nabbing a clean looking cloth, she ran it under the faucet, and went to work on her face.

  She caught his movement in the window’s reflection as he tossed his cleaning cloth aside and grabbed the crutch propped next to him. With an ease of years of practice, he maneuvered on one leg until he hit the counter’s edge next to her. Folding his arms over his thick chest, he watched her set aside the cloth and cup her hands under the cool water. She splashe
d water over her face, washing away the last remnants of the night’s misdeeds, and then took the towel he held out to her.

  He waited until she was done before starting in. ‘You need Mandy?’

  Mandy being the local doctor and Worth’s not-so-hidden crush. It was almost as cute as it was heartbreaking to watch the older couple dance around each other. The odds of Mandy, damaged by a past Vex wouldn’t wish on anyone, letting Worth in any closer than he already managed was close to nil. ‘Nope, all good.’ She settled her ass against the cabinets, hands on the counter’s edge with the towel caught between her palm and the counter. Knowing Worth wouldn’t let her leave until he had his say, she tried to steer their conversational route. She met his steady gaze and held it. ‘Reaper out front?’

  ‘Yeah, so’s Ruin and Simon.’

  Burying her flinch at Simon’s name, she focused on her rising excitement of hearing that her twin was finally home after a three-week absence. ‘Ruin’s home?’

  ‘How’d you miss that one?’

  Her shoulders shifted. ‘In town. Drinking with Mercy. Dealing with a spot of trouble. Pick one.’

  He opened his mouth, obviously rethought his words, and finally gave her, ‘Your brother hit Reaper just after Havoc headed out.’

  ‘Nice.’ An inspired thought popped into her head. ‘Charity with them?’ Charity being Ruin’s woman.

  Worth shook his head. ‘She headed right upstairs, said something about a shower.’

  Hmm, too bad. One of life’s little pleasures was tag-teaming Reaper with Charity. The results ranged from him pulling his alphahole cloak tight, or going all broody, dark and silent. Either way, it would keep his attention diverted from why Vex now sported her own set of bruises and provide her with much-needed comic relief. No matter. She’d hit him head on if necessary. ‘Guess I’ll brave it on my own.’

  Worth shot her a look and warned, ‘Watch your step tonight, Vex.’