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“I swear.”

She gave a harrumphing sigh and crossed her arms. Apparently more diplomatic action was necessary. “It’s not that James and I don’t appreciate your offers, of course. We’re just, you know, we’re gay.” She eyed him a bit.

“And you’re together, right? Like, exclusively?”

“Ummm, yeah.” It was the best answer for the situation. He hoped like hell James was all right with that. But he would be, right? After all the things he’d said the other night? He’d said he needed him. He’d said Matt
owned
him. He’d be all right with that.

“Well, I guess…,” Beni finally conceded, a little reluctantly. She took the brush and started looking for the shirt she’d removed before they got back. Hopefully to put it back on.

Matt turned to look at James.

James didn’t look okay with what he’d said. His face had that stony, unreadable mask on it. But his dark golden eyes looked really, really sad. He walked off before Matt could say anything.

Shit.

Chapter 21

T
HE
ranger station had been crawling with militia who’d been so focused on the highway that it was easy to slip around the back of the station with no one noticing. They’d had to put Beni on Miz (neither one of them liked that) and send her on a bigger loop out of sight of the station, while James and Matt stayed close enough to keep an eye on activities there. They rendezvoused within a couple klicks of what was left of Brownlee Reservoir.

They were well-hidden, just above the road overlooking the reservoir. Maybe 150 meters from the old dam. James was lookout, while Matt dealt with Beni. Strangely, since the scene this morning, Matt had seemed more patient with her, and James was less.

Matt left Beni in camp, with strict orders to lay low and keep quiet. Miz stood guard over her without his having to say a thing. “You starting to enjoy your power, girl?” He patted the mare affectionately on the nose. She nickered and bobbed her head. Or maybe that was a snicker.

Beni managed not to sulk. Her attitude had hugely improved with the promise of straight, horny men on the horizon.

Matt crept up behind James, keeping his mind sealed tight. He got within five meters before James turned to him and grinned.

“Did you feel me coming?”

A momentary cloud passed over James’s face. “No, you pretty much shut yourself off to me. I could hear you. That fake leg just doesn’t sound quite right. I could hear it slither a little.”

“Shit, there goes my career in covert ops.” He didn’t even want a career as a SOUF trooper anymore, but it was still a bummer. James gave him a little squeeze on the back of his neck then dropped his hand.

“You’re still in covert ops, babe. What else do you call your job?”

Amazing how that could make it all better. Matt stared at James’s profile a minute. He could afford to; James was lookout. Matt could just be on the lookout for James.

James’s whole life was so fucked up. He had a mutant alien brain, he was being forced out of SOUF, he was going to be forced into QESA, and military scientists were going to poke at him like he was a lab rat as often as they could manage. More than anything, Matt wanted to stay with James and work with him at QESA. He wanted to live with him. He wanted James to love him, not be forced to stay with Matt through circumstance and gratitude.

Matt sighed.

“’S’up, babe?” James asked a little absently.

“Nothing. Just, you know… thinking.” James gave him a piercing glance. Then he let his eyes rove the area again. Matt checked his mental walls. Tight. They had to stay that way until James gave him a clear sign that this was what he wanted. Matt didn’t want to add his own emotions to James’s situation. The guy needed space to think.

Matt heard a noise. “’S’that a burrowing owl? They have those here?”

“Pretty much everywhere in the US, still. Got too hot in Mexico for them. Been hearing it for a while now.” James’s eyes were trained on a small boat with three fishermen near the Oregon side of the reservoir.

Matt wrinkled his brow. “You heard it a bunch of times? That same call?’

James turned to look at him. “Yeah. That mean something?”

“Maybe.” Matt cupped his hands around his mouth and responded with a different burrowing owl call. Within seconds he got an answering call. He sat forward excitedly.

The guys fishing were suddenly packing it in. It was just barely starting to get dark, so it seemed a little early to be quitting, but…. James was sitting attentively, waiting for Matt to tell him what was going on. “That’s my family call. We each have one, a bird or something. The grampas made us learn ours practically right after birth. You got a scope on you?” Stupid question. Of course James was prepared.

Matt took the scope James handed over. “Push the button on top for remote viewing.”

Matt gave him a dry look. “I’m not completely unfamiliar with tech, you know.”

“Sorry.” James gave a sheepish grin.

When Matt had the scope trained on the boat, he could see the three fishermen reeling in lines, packing up bait. Old-fashioned fishing, the kind the grampas used to make them do. One of the guys on the boat turned just right. “’S Jude,” Matt complained.

At James’s blank look, he explained, “My cousin, Jude. Oh, that’s cool, though, I see Sabine. Can’t tell who the third one is. Hope he’s straight,” Matt added in a mutter.

“So they’re waiting for us,” James murmured thoughtfully. “Wanted you to know they were there, even see them.”

Suddenly, one of the people on the boat fell into the water. Matt snorted, the scope still to his eye. “Jude fell in, the clumsy bastard. Not really like him, though.” He put the scope down and looked at James. “Diversion, you think?”

“To keep anyone from noticing that guy crawling out of the water, you mean?” James nodded his head toward the shore, about thirty meters downslope.

Matt swung his head around. Someone
was
crawling out of the water. There wasn’t that much cover by the reservoir. It was mostly dirt, rocks, and a few formerly submerged tree stumps. The guy coming out was wearing night-camo, but it was barely dusk. Now that Matt knew he was there, it was easy to pick him out.

“It’s Dyson,” he told James happily. It was nice to see the cavalry, but it was extra nice that it was Dyson and not Jude. “Another cousin.” He turned, a big grin on his face. James had a strange expression on his. Like he was annoyed.

Matt was still trying to puzzle that out when James turned back to the water. Matt mentally shrugged—for now—and gave the call for Dyson. A chipmunk—he was one of the younger grandkids, and they were running short on animal calls when he was born. Matt could almost see the disgruntled look on Dyson’s face when he heard the call. But he answered it.

Matt snuck a look at James again. He had his expressionless mask on. Probably for Dyson’s benefit. But his lips were quirking up on one side. “Chipmunk, huh?”

Matt smirked. “He’s lucky they didn’t stick him with feral cat or something.”

Dyson was headed straight for them, now that he had a direction. Within a minute he’d crawled into their brush screen with them.

Matt introduced James and immediately realized it was a mistake. He could practically see the attraction between them. Fuck.

Dyson was very different from Matt. Broad and muscular—built a lot like James, actually—and a little taller. He had dark brown hair in not quite a military cut, and hazel eyes. Dyson was hot, especially because he had almost no clue how sexy he was. And he definitely thought James was hot. Matt knew all his little tells.

Matt swallowed down the jealousy. It wouldn’t help any of them right now. Or later, either, actually.

James turned to look at Matt suddenly. He looked a little sheepish. And didn’t that just twist Matt’s heart in his chest. Matt gave him a little smile. James reached out to Matt, sliding a hand up his back to his neck, giving him a little squeeze.

Matt sighed. Th’fuck was he doing, being jealous? One look told Matt that Dyson was feeling guilty and embarrassed because he’d been attracted to a guy who had something going on with his cousin.

Matt gave a gentle shoulder shrug, dislodging James’s hand. Probably shouldn’t rub it in.

“What are you doing here? Did the grampas send you?” He tried to refocus everyone.

“Yeah. Going into basic training next month, but I’m not official yet, so Laslo sent me across the river to find you.” Oh, yeah. He’d just turned eighteen.

“Laslo’s here? And Jude and Sabine on the boat? Who else?”

“That’s it. We brought a skimmer, so Holland from Laslo’s Delta 6 team is here. Laslo’s team medic Wade Bollinger, Van Vanos—new QESA agent—and a SEAL, Analia Leondri. This was a last-minute thing and we took who we could get.”

“Christ. Did you bring any straight guys?”

“Holland’s straight. Kinda. The other guys are straight. Wade Bollinger and the new QESA agent, Vanos.”

“Holland just lost his wife. Don’t want to subject him to this mission.”

Dyson gave him a confused look, but just said, “Sabine’s straight.”

“I need a
guy
.”

Dyson laughed softly. “Yeah, Matt. Everyone here needs a guy, but I think you’re the only one with a prayer of getting one.” He flicked a look to James.

“What about Conner?”

“He’s on an op in the east somewhere. One of the Carolinas, I think. Jesus, Matt, even if you did need a guy, why would you want a straight one?”

Matt slowly smiled and looked over at James. “We need someone to fuck the nun.”

James snorted in amusement.

“Th’fuck are you talking about?”

So Matt explained about Beni, and then he went on to explain about Miz. And then a little about their journey. Dyson insisted on looking at his shoulder wound. It was closed, but barely.

“Hurt?”

“Nah, not really. It’s mostly just itched for days. Pearl must have given me some NSAIDs that were better than average.”

“We gotta stop yakking and get with the program, here. Laslo sent me to set you guys up with SCUBAs. Can the nun use one?”

“She’ll learn.” Matt’s tone was dry.

“What about the horse?”

Matt froze. He turned to James. “Babe?” Dyson looked confused as hell. He’d made the horse comment purely as a joke, Matt knew.

“Uhhh,” James stalled. “I guess I didn’t think about that. I’ll have to ask her.”

Dyson looked at James strangely. “You can talk to the horse?”

“Yeah. Didn’t anyone brief you on my mutant alien brain?”

Matt reached out and grabbed James’s hand. He could hear the derision in James’s voice, and hated that he felt that way. James squeezed back after a second.

“Yeah, but not the details,” Dyson said, looking away.

“What are you doing here?” Matt tried to refocus on logistics.

“Getting you guys the fuck out, ASAP.” Dyson went on to explain that when Lance had told SOUF about James’s
new
new abilities, he suddenly rated transport by skimmer once he was across the river. Or even on this side of the river, if necessary.

James snorted in disgust. Matt squeezed his hand. “’S’okay, babe.” Matt realized he was going all out with the endearments and touching as a way of staking his claim. Should he stand up and piss on James next? That could be interesting.

“So why don’t they just come over and get me?” James asked. “Maybe I should fake a broken leg or something. Then the nun can miraculously heal me once we’re on the skimmer.”

Dyson laughed. “Yeah, the skimmer has orders to stay on that side unless you’re in danger of capture by the RIA or other hostiles, or can’t make it across yourself. You know, ‘extenuating circumstances’.” Matt figured that ninety-nine percent of the battles between the Red and Blue in the past ten years had begun over “extenuating circumstances.”

“Thanks a lot,” James grumbled.

Matt agreed. Fuckers. They’d been on the run from the RIA for a week now, and picked up a horny nun and a talking pet horse. Those
were
extenuating circumstances.

Still, they were well-rested for the most part, in good health. Well, except Matt’s wounds were a little too close to healed for comfort. He wondered if the skimmer would come over if
he
were suffering from extenuating circumstances.

“So, Van’s in the water behind me; he’s got remote viewing headgear. He can keep an eye open, and we’ll go back to camp to get your shit together and plan this out.” Dyson nodded to James. He clicked in to Van, a complicated SF Morse code. Matt had to brush up on it, because he wasn’t sure if Dyson had just told Van to come out and rendezvous or bring them lunch. Kinda late for lunch.

Van belly-crawled up the bank, invisible until Matt used the NV on the scope. Then he was only almost invisible. When he got into their little brush pile (no lunches in hand), even crouching Matt could tell he was a huge guy. Sandy-brown hair, maybe, light-colored eyes. He shook their hands, but didn’t say much of anything.

Dyson said the guy was straight, and that was the vibe Matt got. Mostly because he didn’t spend any time checking the three of them out. Matt had to admit it made him a little extra leery of the new agent. He wasn’t part of the fam, aside from being new and untested.