by Susan Bliler
It was him! I can’t believe it was him! What are the odds? What kind of fucked-up Fairy Godmother made shit like this happen to her? And why was he so mad? They’d met at a party and fucked. NBD. Right? RIGHT?
Wrong. Her head fell against the shower wall as she stood letting the spray pelt against her. She’d slept with her Commander’s Commander! Christ sake! This had the potential to make her training absolute hell and, worse? She couldn’t even back out after the great speech she’d given Mason about pulling her weight and defending the Walkers.
Pulling back, she bounced her head off the shower wall once. Idiot! Plus, if Remy wasn’t lying, she still carried his scent, so even going to see Mason right now was out of the question. If he found out she’d fucked her Commander’s Commander, he’d think that was why she’d wanted to join the team, to get close to him. Turning, she slid down the shower wall, curling her legs to her. Her one night of passion suddenly wasn’t so remarkable, and any giddiness she’d held at the memory fled.
Shaking her head in dismay, she suddenly stilled, her hands dropping to the floor. Oh God! She was on birth control when they’d slept together, but what had Amanda said? Something about birth control not always working with Walkers? Shifting to her hands and knees, the water poured over her head where she sat huddled over the drain, not one hundred percent certain that she wasn’t going to be sick. Her mind flew as she quickly calculated the days to her next cycle. Shit! It was too many to be able to wait that long. Standing, she stumbled out of the shower, snagging a towel and quickly drying, debating racing to town or going to see the Chief of Surgery, Jenny Arkinson. They’d met when Harlow had first been brought to the Estate, as Jenny had to look her over after Recker had drugged her to get her here – and apparently checked her DNA to be certain she really was Mason’s sister. No, Jenny was a Walker, and if she knew Harlow needed a pregnancy test, she’d start sniffing around…literally, and that meant there was a chance of her finding out what she’d done with her Commander’s Commander. What had Mason said his name was? Remy. Remy McCabe. And then Mason’s other words came drifting back. ‘Stay away from Remy McCabe, Harlow. He’s no good.’
Aaagh! What did that mean, and why in the hell hadn’t she asked? Would it look suspicious if she called Mason right now and, in between small talk asked, “So, what did you mean by ‘Remy McCabe is no good’? FUUUUUUUUCK!
Four hours later Harlow was sitting on the lid of the toilet in her suite, front door locked, bathroom door locked, and all lights off except the one in the bathroom. In one hand she held a pregnancy test wand, in the other she held a letter she’d found taped to her door when she’d returned from her trek to town.
The letter was from Remy with a date, time, and specifics about returning to Sentry training. It also had a note at the bottom indicating that her “misplaced” physical hadn’t been located and she’d need to contact the infirmary to have a copy sent to her Commander. So, that’s what he was going with. Her training was delayed due to a misplaced physical. Okay, she could work with that.
She’d asked Mason not to contact her through training, so she had faith he wouldn’t come looking for her.
Her watch sounded its timer and she dropped the letter, turning her gaze to the pregnancy test. She looked at it for a long moment then sat it on the sink to retrieve the directions lying at her feet on the floor. Eyes scanning the paper too quickly, she had to force herself to slow down and reread three times before a relieved breath burst from her. Not pregnant.
Part of her was elated, though a tiny part was disappointed. She shook her head. Women!
Standing, she braced her hands on the vanity, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Looking down, she took in her current situation. A negative pregnancy test, a letter from her Commander, who she’d accidentally fucked, and now she was hiding in her bathroom from her brother and the rest of Walkerkind. Delicate brows furrowed as she shook her head, frowning fiercely at herself. “Get your shit together, Harlow!”
***
Two weeks later found Harlow following the instructions in Remy’s letter to a ‘T’. Eyeing her watch, she noted she had one minute until eleven, which was the time she was supposed to be standing at attention at the foot of her bunk in her barracks, which she was.
At eleven on the dot, the door to the barracks opened and someone came in, but she didn’t dare look. Eyes straight forward, spine rigid, she kept her chin level as she swallowed hard.
Remy’s tall form crossed in front of her then kept going before he turned and paced back. “I am your Commander, Remy McCabe.”
He continued to pace down the length of the floor before turning and pacing back as he spoke. “You’ve been assigned here for training. This will be your barracks.” He pointed at the floor, then jabbed his finger toward the cot she stood in front of. “That is your bunk.” Then he dropped his hand. “And I am your Commander.”
O-kay. He’d already told her he was her Commander. Why in the hell was he repeating himself? Probably so she understood her place. She nodded, which only seemed to evoke a darker frown than the one already gracing his face.
“Stand at attention!” he barked, when her form slipped a little.
“Sorry if I suck at this. I’ve never been a soldier before.” He stilled when she spoke, and she knew it was bad form, but he needed to know that he wasn’t dealing with someone who had any training at all. She was starting from scratch. When he didn’t move, she glanced at him.
“Eyes forward,” he barked.
Harlow jerked her head straight, hoping he wasn’t expecting military precision out of her. She had no idea what she was supposed to do, let alone how to do it.
Remy came and stood in front of her, towering over her. Hell, her eyes were level with his damn chest, and though she knew she was supposed to be staring off like he wasn’t there, she couldn’t help but study his chest instead. She remembered how muscled it was, how it had bunched and flexed when he’d held her impaled on him.
“What are you doing here, EnemyHunter?”
She blinked, surprised at the question. “I uhhh, Monroe sent me.”
He growled an irritated sound. “First, you need to address me, and all other officers, as Sir. Second. I know Monroe sent you, but why? Why are you in my barracks?”
She looked from side-to-side. “I was waiting for you…”
“ENEMYHUNTER!” he bellowed, then stepped back, plowing a frustrated hand through his hair before trying again in a strained voice. “Why do you want to be a Sentry?”
“Oh!” She cringed inwardly. Idiot! “I want to prove my worth…Sir.”
“Explain.”
“I just moved here, and I don’t want my brother to regret bringing me here.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“I wasn’t done.” She rolled her eyes before realizing her mistake when his eyes narrowed on her. “Sir,” she tacked on quickly and when he didn’t speak, she continued. “I’ve spent the last few years living in a shithole and scrapping by. My brother said that here I could be what I want. Do what I want.” She looked up at him. “I want to make a difference. I want to protect something beautiful, defend something rare. I want to dedicate my life to you.” She blinked in confusion when Commander McCabe paled and took a step back, then she realized how dumb she sounded. “Well…not you you, but Walkers in general.” She lifted her chin proudly. “I’m a good fighter, and I’m willing to sacrifice myself for the good of Walkerkind.” She bit her bottom lip a second. “My brother says he doesn’t think I’m a Walker, and the Doctor, Jenny, is running some tests. But it doesn’t matter. My brother came for me when no one else in the world even cared if I lived or died. I’m going to repay that, and I’m going to repay Monroe for taking me in and giving me a place to live and a job of my choosing.” She lifted her small fists. “I’m going to use the only thing I’ve got, which is these. The only real thing I’ve learned is how to fight, and I’d like to use that to do right by you all.”
Remy’s jaw bunched as he studied Harlow. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Covered head to toe in satin and lace, she’d been exquisite, but here like this, battle ready in BDUs… He was having a hard time keeping an erection at bay. Her admission that she wanted to dedicate her life to Walkers hadn’t helped. The admission nearly sucked all the air from his lungs with the way she’d said it. She’d looked up at him in earnest and said, “I want to dedicate my life to you,” and goddamn if his inner beasts didn’t lunge for the surface at her words. It came awfully close to a claiming, and she needed to learn not to say things like that to Walkers. He had every intention of admonishing her, but he was having a hard time concentrating on her words as his eyes devoured her features, memorized everything about her as if she’d disappear on him again.
She was striking. Hell, she was more than striking, and he couldn’t deny that he was attracted to her. So much so that he couldn’t help but wonder if his previous fascination with her—before he’d slept with her—wasn’t tainting his perception of her now. It had to be. There was no way he was this fascinated by a woman he’d just met.
Admittedly, he’d been nervous about meeting her. He wasn’t certain how he’d react, whether his past hatred for Mason would rear its ugly head. There was no hatred though, just something else, something he couldn’t pinpoint. His palms were sweating, his heart was racing, and his tongue felt swollen in his mouth. Every beast within him was wide awake and pacing just beneath the surface as they memorized every layer of scent, every color reflected in her hair, and glimmering in her eyes. He’d waited years to come face to face with this woman, Harlow EnemyHunter, and here she was, oblivious to how single-mindedly he’d hunted for her the past few years. She was also oblivious to the fact that he’d had intentions of using her to get back at Mason, which meant there was potential for her to be hurt, and him to be damned, if word got out about their little sexcapade. Right now, with her staring at the buttons of his BDUs when she was supposed to staring straight ahead, he felt like shit. He’d wanted to use her in the past to get to Mason. Making things worse was his intention to make this training as difficult as he possibly could for her so she’d quit and leave him and his beasts in peace. Any hope he’d had of simply tolerating her vanished the second they came face to face and he realized who she was after what they’d done. No, she was too great a temptation, and he wasn’t going to go down that road. He’d been infatuated with her before, but now after having her body, the memory was all consuming, and he wanted more of her, but that could never happen. He’d vowed to any Walker that would listen that he was done chasing Mason’s sister. Any pursuit of her now would be going back on his word, doing the one thing he’d been shouting from the rooftops he would never do. He could not have Harlow EnemyHunter.
Canting his head, he wondered if Mason had told her their history, of the rift that existed between them. Part of him wanted to ask, but if she didn’t know he didn’t want to have to explain. Don’t want her thinking less of me.
Remy took a step back knowing that interaction with this woman had the potential to be disastrous, and her words weren’t helping. No scent of deceit wafted from her, which meant there was truth in every word she said. So, what did that make her? Noble? Foolish? Perfect!
She lifted her defiant little chin, looking him square in the eye, and his gut clenched at the sheer smallness of her stature. She was tiny, smaller than he remembered. Everything about her was tiny. Tiny little fists, tiny little nose, tiny little lips. His thoughts flashed to those lips parted on a moan as he slid into what he knew was her too-tight heat. He actually lurched as his lower belly clenched and his balls drew up.
No! He was not doing this! He was not going to let his infatuation with Mason’s sister cloud his judgment here. “Get outside and get in formation,” he ordered. When she didn’t move he jabbed a finger toward the door. “GO!” he bellowed.
“Uhhhh. Where do I line up? …Sir!”
He couldn’t stifle the growl that rattled his chest as he let his head fall back. He curled his hands into tight fists to keep himself from reaching for her. He didn’t want her out there with other Walkers, with any of the other men. He wanted her safe back at the Estate house with Mason. Gritting his teeth, he stared up at the ceiling to keep his eyes off her. “Christ,” he hissed. “Your team is the one on the far left. Get in line with them.”
“Okay, Sir. Or aye, aye. Or whatever.” Then she was hurrying out the door.
Remy lowered his head with a growl, watching her leave. His eyes lowered to the sway of her hips, and he couldn’t help but remember the satiny feel of her skin, the swell of her ass, the smooth planes of her thighs. Mason would kill him if he knew the thoughts running through his head right now. Worse, he wanted to kill himself. Four minutes! Four minutes with Harlow EnemyHunter and he was already fucking obsessed. Goddamn, if this wasn’t going to be the worst few weeks of his life.
Chapter 7
“This is my team.” Remy pointed out. “And you’re not on my team.”
“But…but.” Harlow’s eyes drifted to the human team she’d been assigned to, then back to his line of towering Walkers. “Mas…” She cleared her throat. “I was told that I’d be training with the Skin Walker Sentries. Those,” she pointed over her shoulder. “Aren’t Skin Walkers.”
Remy jerked his chin down. “Obviously. You’re training with the human team.”
“But…” She looked from side to side, as if trying to formulate an argument, when a frown swept her face and her eyes lifted. “It’s because I’m female isn’t it?” She wanted to ask if it was because they’d fucked, but she knew he understood her meaning when he scowled down at her, his face a thundercloud.
Remy rolled his eyes, pointing to a group further out in the field. They were arranged in a tight circle around two combatants, both women. “That’s Beth and Nyree. They’re female. They train with Walkers.”
Harlow’s frown slipped and she shook her head dejectedly. “Then why?”
“Because you haven’t proven yourself,” Remy growled, stepping forward until she was forced to step back to avoid being pushed by his body. “Because you’ve been here two seconds, and you already think you deserve a promotion to train with the best.”
“Easy,” one of Remy’s men practically whispered, and she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or Remy. It must have been Remy, because his head snapped around, his eyes narrowing on one of his men before turning back to scowl down at her. “Now, for the last fucking time, EnemyHunter. Get your ass over there with your team!”
Harlow quickly blinked back the emotion threatening to overwhelm her. This day was turning to shit and fast. She’d rushed out to meet her team as Remy had commanded, and she’d been dumb enough to be offended they weren’t Walkers—IN FRONT OF THEM! They hadn’t appreciated that. Now, Remy was telling her she was correctly placed and wouldn’t be training with Walkers as she’d thought. Worst of all, they all thought she wanted to train with Walkers because she thought she deserved preferential treatment, when in fact it was exactly the opposite. She didn’t want anyone making things easier on her. Backing up she whispered, “Sorry.” Then she turned and double-timed it back to her team.
Finding a place in rank with them she heard one say snidely, “Oh, now who’s good enough for the human team? Fucking Walker groupie.” Then someone else hissed and all talking ceased.
She went through the PT drills like a zombie. Burpies, push-ups, jumping jacks, belly crawl under barbed wire, wall climb, and she wasn’t really present for any of it. Her mind kept replaying Remy’s words and her teammate’s snide remark. She wondered if maybe somewhere, deep down, she had in fact expected special treatment because of Mason and that’s why everyone’s treatment stung so bad. She knew it wasn’t the truth though. It wasn’t her character. She was willing to prove her worth, to pull her weight, but no one had really told her what was going on, or how it was going to work. She’d just been con
fused, and then everyone went jumping to the wrong damn conclusion that she wanted special treatment.
Jogging at the back of the line of all human males who were her team, she didn’t slow even though her muscles whined and her lungs burned. She wouldn’t dare embarrass herself now. Part of her wanted to punch herself in the eye for not taking a month to get in shape before opening her big mouth about wanting to train. Another part said suck it up and quit whining. She always stayed in pretty good shape, hitting the gym at least four times a week, but she could have prepared better.
Her team jogged all the way out to a winding dirt road leading steeply up a mountainside. By the time they finally turned at the top and started making their way back down, she was ready to puke. Her legs felt like Jell-O, and she knew she was going to be sore as shit tomorrow.
“Still think you’re good enough for the Walker team, sweet cheeks?”
It was the same guy who’d given her shit earlier and this time, with them in front of her, she saw who it was when he poked his head out to turn and laugh at her. Prick!
The largest guy in the group rumbled, “Shut your hole, David.” And the guy did.
David, huh? At least she had a name to put with the asshole now. Thinking on it though, she couldn’t really blame him. It had to have looked bad for her to have been assigned to this team then immediately try to jump ship. They probably thought she felt they weren’t good enough. Fuck! Why was everything so damn hard all the time? Her team hated her; her hot-as-hell fuck-buddy Commander hated her. Well, he wasn’t really her Commander now. No, the tall guy of the four in front of her, Josef, was the one who’d led them through today’s training, and when he’d told the asshole to shut up, asshole had listened, so clearly he was in charge.
When they got back down to the road and were slowly jogging back to the training field, Commander McCabe ran by, leading his team of Sentries up the mountain pass they’d just run. The sight of him and his team was both impressive and deflating. Clearly, they’d gone through drills too, but not a single one of the Walkers was sweating. Hell, even the two human females on the team weren’t sucking for air, and when they ran, their feet barely made any noise. Harlow picked her knees up higher and attempted to control her breathing, to make it look like she wasn’t as winded as she was.
