From The Ashes (Life After War) (22 page)

“
Yes.”

Despite talking to Adrian, Marc had to ask. “What happens when they find out?”

Her answer was full of tremors. “Then I will have run out of time.”

“
And you’ve considered…”

“
Not letting them know? Of course, but it's unlikely this would remain a secret, Marc. It’s growing too fast, and I have to put it somewhere.”

“
He
could find things.”

“
He will now that he knows what you do–that I've been staying low–but it won't be enough. I'm still evolving. So are my gifts.”

Still evolving
... like something else was... Marc met her gaze. “What’s coming for us?”

The Witch’s red eyes blended with roiling blue, matching the color of the bubble above them.
“Everything you fear and more,”
the Witch answered sleepily. She'd been dozing contentedly while Angela played.

“
When?”

“
Not long,” Angela stated, refusing to let the Witch start revealing painful truths. She planned to fight that fate.

“
What can I do?”

“
Help me with my plans?”

Marc tugged her closer. “You know it, honey. We’ll start in the next week.”

“
Tonight would be better.”

“
Sure. At the Mess?”

Angela drew in a breath. She’d missed his heat last night while he stood duty. “My tent, in an hour.”

Marc’s body flared to life and he gave a jerky nod. “Okay.”

Catching his sudden nervousness, Angela snickered. “To make plans, Brady.”

Marc tried to snap out of it. “Yeah, plans.”

Angela laughed.

The shield responded with a wave of deep violet.

Angela had run a few simple tests on the shield, and suspected Adrian had, as well. It didn’t let the bugs in or the smaller flying debris when the wind gusted. The bags and trash were caught on an updraft and disappeared into the clouds. That was something even the Eagles hadn’t noticed yet. Fascinating, it had caused Angela's nightly routine to end in a high place, studying it. She had the sense that the shield was important for more than their protection, and she was determined to figure out what it was in time to use it. That Safe Haven was being gifted with it as a defense, she had little doubt.

12

“
I’m Leslie.”

“
Uh-huh.”

She’d come from the shadows in silence, but what she wanted shouted from her arched back and painted face.

“
Nice night.”

Kyle grunted. She sounded nervous. And she should be. Need to accept one or not, he was in no mood to turn down yet another offer to replace the sleeping girl in his tent. None of them stirred anything in him now, not even lust.

“
Do you... Can you talk right now?”

Kyle stared pointedly. “What do you want?”

Leslie stepped a little closer, top artfully sliding off one shoulder. “I'd like to help.”

There was no response from his body, but the mobster forced himself to try. “Why?”

It was more of a conversation than he’d given any of the other women who'd tried, and Leslie grinned, encouraged. “You’re high up here is why most of them chase you, I guess. I like it that you look after the pregnant girl. It shows you’re a gentleman.”

Kyle heard the lies as much as sensed them. She was off the list from that moment.

“
I’m busy. Get back to camp.”

Leslie gaped... and then her true opinion emerged. “You’re making a fool of yourself. I hope you know that,” she sneered, painted face now twisting into ugliness. “Be careful.”

“
What are you referring to?” Kyle led, eager to hit back with one of his glancing blows. He’d become as good as Kenn at delivering an insult.

Leslie didn’t back down, though she did back up. “I’m talking about you chasing Jennifer like a dog who’s found a bitch in heat. I’m talking about the way you’re not helping Adrian take care of this camp with all that attention on her. I’m talking about your hypocrisy–doing what others can’t, being alone with her all the time. People see the double standard. How long do you think they’ll put up with it? Everyone else has to follow the rules. Why not you?”

Kyle opened his mouth to fire back, but Leslie vanished into the shadows and he snapped it shut. He’d expected the jealous tirade that some of the others had delivered, not the truth. And if one of the camp cliques had the sand to say it to his face, then everyone was thinking it. The line he was walking had just narrowed. The camp's women would interfere next. Was there anything he could do to ease their tension and buy a little more time?

“
I’m pretty sure you stung her pride. She's not sure what turned you off.”

Kyle turned to see Tracy standing behind him, long, black hair flowing on the dry wind. It was the first time that she'd ever spoken to him that he could recall.

“
She'll figure out lying was a bad idea and get over it. She just didn’t expect you to respond. It rattled her, I think.”

Tracy, normally an extremely quiet woman, took a step closer. Her generous curves pulled Kyle's eye. With those hips, in that short dress, from the front or back she was shaped like…

Tracy gave him a slow smile, the kind that had Kyle’s mind screaming for him to duck, that
this
one knew what she was doing.

“
If you need a friend, I’m usually out on third shift. Catch my eye before Mess and I'll find you.”

Kyle stared at Tracy, running through what he needed, how long it would take, and, if he would ever use her that way. Could he?

Tracy knew he was evaluating, but didn’t say anything to convince. Instead, the high school teacher trailed her wrist near his nose as she stepped by.

Jennifer’s sweet scent slammed into Kyle's gut, and he grabbed the camp whore's arm. “Wait.”

Tracy delivered a sultry look over her shoulder, aware of his eyes on her lips. “Maybe a taste? To be sure?”

Kyle let go as if burned. Yes, he could pretend with Tracy, if the need got bad enough.

“
I won’t claim you.” Kyle’s tone lowered into misery. “I may never touch you.”

Tracy shrugged. “You need a friend, one the camp thinks you’re using even if you aren’t. You know that. It’s why you gave us both a chance tonight.”

Tracy moved away slowly, loving the heat in Kyle's gaze as he stared at her. He would think about it for a while, but in the end, he would come to her. They all did, because she gave them what they needed. With Kyle, it was wide hips and a maternity-like scent. For others, it might be a piece of clothing or a certain makeup style. It was the small things that a man appreciated, remembered, and rewarded.

The same was true of females, usually, but in this case, Tracy had big plans for herself. She'd been studying the leadership since she joined Safe Haven and if there was one thing she understood, it was the needs of men. It was something she'd gotten so good at while moonlighting as a stripper that continuing the tradition after the War had felt normal. Apocalypse or not, everyone needed physical contact. It was what kept the human spirit fighting.

13

“
He will be ripped from your arms like grass from the earth. Do not cross that line!”

Angela gasped in terror, jerking awake.

“
Are you okay?”

Angela was trying to remember how to breathe at the crushing desolation that wanted to overwhelm her. The dream had been so vivid!

Marc assumed it was one of her old nightmares and shifted closer, wrapping his arms around her. “I’ve got ya.”

The long day and pain pills had caught up with her, and she'd fallen asleep while they were working on plans. Watching her in the flickering light had been so perfect that Marc hadn't been able to make himself leave.

Angela let him rock her, the feel of his warmth easing some of the panic inside. They needed to get Safe Haven ready to leave. Not this area or even this state, but this
country
. It was a lot to take in, even for the Witch, and they both huddled in the protection of Brady’s thick arms.

Marc tried not to notice how good she felt against him or how sweet she smelled. Even after twenty hours, he could still catch a whiff of her vanilla soap. That scent and Angie went together like butter and toast.

Already covered up, Angela shivered at the draft coming in through the flap, and Marc gently dislodged himself to go zip it. He clamped his lips shut to keep from asking if he should leave. All he wanted was a couple more quiet hours alone with her–nothing more.

Angela watched him come toward the bed, very glad she’d chosen to keep the inflatable mattress John had insisted on once she’d abandoned the warehouse for her tent. That had been a week ago, their first moving day since the final battle.

“
Will you hold me?”

“
Anytime you want,” Marc sent immediately.

Angela folded the blanket back. “Now, Brady.”

Marc eased onto the mattress with a body that made it difficult to get comfortable until he reached down and made an adjustment.

Angela looked away with red cheeks, but sank into his warm embrace as soon as he motioned, eager to be close. All the thoughts in her mind were pushing and shoving, trying to get to the front to be solved, and all she wanted was…

Angela sucked in a breath as Marc settled her against his chest, letting their bodies press close. The hardness in the center of him sent fear into her mind, but his musky scent was also filling her nose with ghosts.

“
Angie?” Marc waited for her to speak, worried she’d frozen.

“
Workin’ through it, Marine. At ease.”

He grinned in the dim light. She was still growing, changing, and much of it was attractive. Especially with her hair wrapped around his fingers and her body pressed snugly against his hip. Was she ready for the next step? They'd been spending so much time alone together that the camp thought they already had an arrangement. Marc knew that wasn't the same to Angela. If he wanted her against his back at night, he had to ask–make a commitment. That wasn't an issue on
his
part.

“
Will you move in with me?”

“
Yes.”

“
Because the camp already thinks we're living together.”

“
I said yes.”

“
And Charlie won't mind, so we're all good there.”

“
Yes, Marc.”

“
And I don't expect sex or...”

“
Damn it, Brady!”

Marc chuckled. “Just needed to be sure.”

Realizing he'd been teasing her, Angela shoved him off the mattress. “Damn man.”

He landed on his side with a loud thump. Rising to his knees, Marc's laughter mixed with hers. Heat sparked as their eyes locked. “You sure? No rush.”

Angela held the blanket back again, grinning widely. “Yes. Now get back under here–my toes are cold.”

Marc wrapped her up as closely as she would allow, thinking this would be perfect but for her injury and him wanting to...

“
Would you like to kiss me goodnight, Brady?”

Marc groaned. “Oh yeah, baby.”

Angela flushed in the darkness. “I could stand a little of that, maybe.”

Marc’s body woke, insisting that she knew what she was ready for. He denied them both. “You still have two more weeks before you’re allowed any physical…”

Angela tilted her chin up, lashes fluttering closed, and Marc surrendered. He pressed his mouth to hers, trying not to groan again.

My Angie!

Chapter Seven

Outside Wichita, Kansas

5/31

1

Adrian paused outside Kyle’s tent, openly eavesdropping.

“
Who said it?!” Kyle was clearly upset.

“
It doesn’t matter.”

“
It does to me. Eagles don’t act that way!”

“
It was a quick remark. Please let it go.”

Adrian knew the mobster wouldn’t. Someone had crossed his line.

Kyle's voice became neutral. “Do you need anything before we roll? The trucks are still open.”