Brandt slammed his fist against the table, and Cade startled. “You shouldn’t have to,” he growled out. “That’s why I want to see the bitch dead. That’s why I want to look her in the fucking eyes before I pull the damned trigger. Because even if I die, she’ll never leave you the fuck alone.”
Cade dropped her head against Brandt’s bicep. She smoothed her hand down his muscular forearm to rest it on top of his hand. “I understand. She put me through hell. I want to see her dead too.” She hesitated and added softly, “I think we need to talk. About what happened before you left the safe house. When we … didn’t get along too well.”
“You mean when we fought,” Brandt murmured.
“Yeah. When we fought,” Cade agreed sadly. “We should talk about that.”
“Can we not?” Brandt asked. “I can think of a million other things I’d rather talk about than what we disagreed on a thousand years ago.” He rose from his seat and went to the hotel room door, easing it open and peering out into the hall. He stood like that for a moment, examining the exterior hallway, before he closed the door and bolted it, flipping the security latch closed. Then he stopped beside her, twisting the ragged ends of her hair between his fingers. “I hope it’s okay for me to do this.” He wrapped his hand around Cade’s wrist and tugged her out of the chair, pulling her to him. Cade stumbled at the sudden motion, but his free arm hooked around her waist to steady her before he pulled her tight against him and took her mouth in a deep kiss.
Cade let out an involuntary squeak of surprise at the suddenness of the kiss, and she returned it for only a moment before she pulled away to give him a look that spoke volumes of just how crazy she thought he was. “What the hell, Brandt?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought we were going to talk?”
“Less talk, more this,” Brandt mumbled against her neck, nipping at her skin.
Cade tried to ignore the way her knees went weak.
“And here I was thinking we’d have a serious conversation for once,” she half-joked as Brandt steered her to the bedroom, tugging at the straps and clasps holding the Kevlar vest together. He stopped her by the bed and pulled the Beretta from the waistband of her jeans, depositing it on the bedside table. His dark eyes sparkled with mischievousness as they met hers.
“You must be entirely mistaken if you actually think I’m capable of being serious,” he said. He slipped his hands into her front pockets and dislodged the ammunition magazines from them, dropping them by the Beretta. “Must be some other guy you’re talking about.” His fingers found two more magazines in her belt and pulled them free, then slid the Glock from its holster and left it beside the Beretta.
“Oh yeah, can’t you see the line of men at the door?” Cade said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes.
“What, you think you couldn’t make ‘em line up?” Brandt asked. He pulled the survival knife free from its sheath and added it to the growing pile of weapons on the bedside table. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Cade,” he said, starting on her belt buckle. “Absolutely gorgeous. One of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. I’m surprised I’m not having to fight off every guy that looks at you, because they’ve got to see it too.” He paused and raised an eyebrow, dislodging a knife with a blade even larger than the survival knife he’d already removed, slipping it out of the sheath she’d hidden in her jeans. “Geez, Cade, exactly how many guns and knives you got hidden on you?”
Cade laughed and took the knife from him, dropping it on the table and shrugging out of the Kevlar vest. “Why don’t you find out?” she suggested with a playful wink, all thoughts of serious discussions banished.
Brandt groaned. “I don’t know whether I should be intrigued or terrified.”
Cade laughed again and grabbed Brandt by the front of his shirt. “Maybe both,” she suggested. “Now get over here. We’ve got a few hours, and I don’t want to waste them blathering like an idiot.”
Chapter 50
Remy sat on the end of the bed in the hotel room she’d staked out, her legs tucked underneath her and her bolo knife resting across her knees. She smoothed the corner of an old t-shirt over its naked blade. The weapon didn’t necessarily need cleaning; it hadn’t been used against anything, living or dead, in over a month, and its blade was still pristine. Remy polished it anyway, mainly because it calmed her, helped her center her mind, helped her focus on the problem at hand and not on the ones further down the road.
Even if the problem at hand was a stupid one.
Ethan sat in a chair in an unlit corner of the room, partially veiled by the darkness around him. One leg rested against his knee, his hand loosely hanging over his mouth as he propped against it, the broken chain of his dead wife’s locket dangling from the fingers of his other hand. She felt his eyes on her, watching her as she worked on the knife.
“Are you sure it doesn’t bother you?” Ethan asked.
“Oh yeah. Of course.”
She was lying through her teeth.
“You understand?”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t. Not at all.
There was another pause, another heavy silence between them. Ethan didn’t move a fraction. Remy kept sliding the cloth along the blade. When Ethan finally spoke again, his voice was just as gentle as it had been when he’d broken the bad news to her just thirty minutes before.
“You’re lying.”
Busted.
“Fine. I’m lying. Whatever,” Remy muttered, fighting the urge to throw her blade onto the floor. Focus, focus, she repeated silently. She took a deep breath and forced herself to continue. “But what else am I supposed to do? Tell you all about how much it bothers me that you were sleeping with that crazy bitch? Tell you about how much it bothers me that we can’t be together? How much it scares me that you’re probably not going to get better, even with Brandt’s cure?”
“If he’s got one,” Ethan added.
“If he’s got one,” Remy conceded hoarsely. She cleared her throat. “I don’t want you to die. Again. It was hard enough losing you once and having to cope with that. Now you’re telling me I’m probably going to have to face it again.”
“Everybody has to die someday, Remy,” Ethan said gently.
“Oh, shove that philosophical bullshit up your ass,” Remy snapped. She flung the knife away from her; it bounced on the edge of the mattress and tumbled to the floor with a clatter. She ignored it and bit out, “How many women have to face the prospect of seeing their lovers die twice?”
Ethan barely flinched. Remy couldn’t make out a single flicker of reaction from him. That just made her angrier. “I can imagine not very many,” he said quietly.
“You’re damn fucking right ‘not very many,’” Remy snarled. His lack of emotion was infuriating. She slid off the bed and stormed over to stand in front of him. He still didn’t move, save to tilt his head back just enough to see her. “I’ve already lost almost every single person I care about. Don’t you fucking dare make me go through this again.”
“There’s nothing I can do to stop it, Remy,” Ethan said placidly.
Remy leaned down, resting her hands against the chair’s armrests and digging her nails into the fabric. She leaned closer, getting almost in his face, and said, quietly but firmly, “You can fucking fight it. Because I can’t take losing yet another person I love. I’d feed myself to a crowd of infected before I let that happen.”
That was enough to garner a reaction from Ethan. His facial expression didn’t change, but a wave of sadness flooded his eyes as he stared up at her. “Gray’s death must have really fucked you up, huh?”
“Irreparably,” Remy said without hesitation. “Fucking breaking point. I can’t take any more.”
Ethan sighed and slowly, deliberately set the locket on the table beside him. His hands found Remy’s wrists, and before she could utter a sound of protest, he tugged her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry, Remy,” he said quietly. She closed he
r eyes as the words met her ears. “I just want to prepare you for what I see as the inevitable. I didn’t intend to upset you or set you off. I just … I can’t keep taking these medications forever. And I don’t know what’s going to happen when I can’t use them anymore.”
“Well, you won’t hit that point if I have anything to say about it,” Remy said stubbornly. “Because that doctor guy out there—”
“Derek,” Ethan interrupted.
“Yeah, whatever,” Remy said flippantly. “He’s going to come up with a cure for that virus, and he’s going to be world famous and save us all. And then you’ll be healthy and get to help start the world over. And then maybe I can kiss you again and not have to worry about getting infected in the process.”
“Oh, so that’s your ultimate goal, huh?” Ethan said in a soft, teasing voice. Remy rolled her eyes and jabbed him in the ribs.
“Not just that,” she protested. “I have other goals too, you know.”
“And those would be?”
“Absolutely none of your business.” Remy smirked and added, “Yet.” She started to slide off Ethan’s lap, but he hooked his arm around her waist, locking her into place.
“Tell me,” he demanded, looking at her with deviousness in his eyes.
“Hey, what was that you said to me on the roof?” Remy asked, smirking with mock thoughtfulness. “Oh yes, I remember. A girl’s gotta have some secrets.”
Ethan laughed. “Oh come on, that’s just plain mean,” he protested. “There should be a law against a woman using a man’s own words against him.”
Remy’s smirk widened into a grin, but before she could respond, there was a soft knock at the door. She stiffened, and almost at the same instant, Ethan’s wristwatch let out a chirp. He sighed and rolled his eyes, dropping his head back against the chair. “What? What is it?” she asked as the person at the door knocked again.
“That’s probably Dr. Rivers,” Ethan said. He glanced at his watch and jabbed at it to turn the alarm off. “It’s about time for my meds and to get my bandages changed and shit.” He tapped her lightly on the thigh, indicating that she should get up. Remy sighed and slid off his lap, dragging herself to the end of the bed and slumping onto it again. She retrieved her bolo knife from the floor and dusted it off with the discarded t-shirt again as Ethan stood. He ran a hand over her hair as he passed on the way to the door, and she couldn’t help the smile that ghosted across her lips.
“Ethan,” Remy spoke up. Ethan turned to look at her, a note of curiosity in his eyes. She suddenly felt shy as her eyes met his, and she resisted the urge to duck her head and break their gazes. “Do you … I mean, can I stay here? Do you mind if I stay?”
Ethan hesitated and glanced to the door as another knock echoed through the room. Then a slow smile spread across his lips, and he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. You can stay.”
Chapter 51
The soft beep of his watch right next to his ear woke Brandt from his deep sleep. He lifted his head from his pillow and jabbed at the button on the side of the watch, silencing the alarm before squinting blearily at the watch face. It was mid-evening, he discovered, not much longer before he, Cade, Ethan, and Remy were to set out on their own branch of the mission while the others attended to theirs. He and Cade had managed to sleep the remainder of the afternoon away.
Brandt eased onto his back slowly so he wouldn’t wake Cade, and he looked at the woman in the dim light filtering in through the windows. She lay on her right side, her back to him, still deep in sleep. Brandt brushed his fingers down her spine, trailing them over her skin until the sheet would allow him to go no farther, as he thought over the words she’d said just a couple of hours before.
“I lied.”
Two of the sweetest words he’d ever heard.
Cade’s back looked so naked without the long curtain of hair she’d always had hanging over it. He’d never get used to the short hair. He hoped it really was a matter of practicality and safety and that she’d been serious when she said she would grow it back out. Cade shifted in her sleep as his fingers left her skin, but she didn’t wake up. Good, he thought. He shifted closer to her and pressed a light kiss to her bare upper arm. Let her rest while she can.
A soft knock on the hotel room’s door drew Brandt’s attention away from the woman before him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, debating simply ignoring whoever was at the door, before he gave up and slid out of bed. He sorted through the scattered clothes on the floor before finding his boxers and jeans; after pulling them both on, he forced himself to the hotel suite’s main door.
Brandt was only mildly surprised to discover Ethan standing on the other side. The expression on his face proclaimed the man ready to set out for battle—far more ready than either Brandt or Cade was. He looked Brandt up and down with a quick scan of his green eyes before asking, “Uh, you guys ready to go?”
Brandt simply raised an eyebrow and looked down at himself pointedly. He was shirtless and shoeless and, for that matter, weaponless.
“Stupid question,” Ethan acknowledged. “Mind if I come in?”
Brandt stared at him and considered his request. He thought of Cade back in the bedroom, asleep and similarly unclothed, and his own desire to crawl back into bed with her, and almost told Ethan no. He caved, though, indicating with a slight swing of his head to the kitchenette behind him that the man could enter. Ethan slipped past Brandt and stepped inside, looking around the suite curiously as Brandt shut the door.
“Where’s Cade?” Ethan asked as soon as the door clicked shut.
“Still asleep. Keep your voice down,” Brandt said, his own voice still hoarse with sleep. He sat down heavily in one of the kitchenette’s chairs, rubbing both hands over his face in a vain effort to wake up. “Got anything to eat? I’m starving.”
Ethan set his backpack on the table and dug through it, pulling four protein bars free and sliding them across the table to Brandt. He froze as his eyes landed on Cade’s braid, still lying on the table. He picked it up. “Is this …?”
“Cade’s hair?” Brandt finished for him. “Yeah, it is.”
“Geez, she cut it off?” Ethan sounded incredulous. “That’s … wow. I’ve never seen her with short hair. How does she look?”
“A little weird,” Brandt admitted. He set two of the protein bars aside for Cade before tearing into a third. “But I think that’s because I’m just not used to it.”
“I can imagine.” Ethan watched Brandt eat for a moment before speaking again. “How are you feeling?”
“About what?” Brandt asked. He pushed his hair back from his eyes as he looked up at Ethan.
“I mean your health,” Ethan clarified. “In general. How do you feel?” He hesitated and then asked, “What does it feel like for you?”
It took Brandt a moment to realize what Ethan meant. “I barely notice it,” he admitted. “It’s like it’s not even there for me.”
“Lucky,” Ethan muttered. He stared at the table, shifting his pack to the floor beside his chair, before adding, “I feel it all the time. Like it’s lurking there, waiting for me to drop my guard so it can pounce. I lose my temper so easily now. And I can’t remember shit like I used to.” He blew out a soft breath. “I can’t even remember exactly how I met Nikola or how Theo died. I mean, I remember I met Nikola in Memphis, but I don’t remember how. And I know Theo’s death had something to do with Cade, but I can’t remember …” He trailed off and looked away.
Brandt nodded. “Yeah, Derek told me about that. About how you couldn’t remember where we were going after Atlanta.” He paused and studied the protein bar’s wrapper, crinkling the cellophane between his fingers. “You know, you not being able to remember probably saved Cade’s life.”
“How so?” Ethan asked curiously.
“Well, if you’d told Alicia where we were at the earliest opportune moment, and if she’d come after us then, Cade wouldn’t have survived, not with that hole in her side. She came … pretty close.
Pretty damn close. If Alicia had come along when Cade was like that, if she’d dragged Cade to Atlanta when she was still sick from her infection, I don’t think Cade would have made the entire trip alive.”
“Jesus, I hadn’t thought of that,” Ethan admitted. “I was so desperate to find you guys and link up again that I didn’t even consider …”
“It’s okay,” Brandt said. “You didn’t know about Alicia or what she wanted to do. That’s not your fault.” The sound of footsteps in the bedroom met his ears, and Brandt squinted to the door before rising from his chair. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Ethan before retreating to the bedroom.
When Brandt stepped into the bedroom, he found Cade sitting on the edge of the bed as she dressed. Her movements were sluggish with exhaustion. She looked up as he entered the room, and a tired but beautiful smile spread across her face. “Hey,” she greeted him. She tugged her customary tank top over her head.
Brandt grinned and sat down beside her, pulling her close and stealing another kiss. “Ethan’s here,” he told her. “Did you sleep well?”
“I slept all right,” Cade said. “I kept waking up. Anticipation and all that. Ready to get this shit over with.” She ruffled her hand through her shorn hair, emphasizing the bedhead that was already there, and looked startled when her hair came up shorter than she was accustomed to. She laughed ruefully. “I really need to get used to that,” she said. She retrieved her socks and boots and started to put them on. Brandt watched as she zipped the knee-high boots, covering her calves with the tough leather, before he spoke up.
“We leave in about forty-five minutes, when it starts to get dark,” he said. They’d decided on that tactic earlier that afternoon, when they’d discussed the merits of going in at dusk or during the bright daylight. Though the idea of stomping around in the dark didn’t appeal to Brandt, he could see the logic in it—while it would make it difficult for them to see the infected, it would make it equally difficult for the infected or anyone inside the Westin to see them. “Are you ready for this?”
The Becoming: Revelations Page 28
