In His Sights (Don't Tell)

I
N
H
IS
S
IGHTS

R
IE
W
ARREN

A
D
ON’T
T
ELL
N
OVELLA

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

In His Sights

Copyright © 2014 by Rie Warren

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations.

http://www.riewarren.com

Cover Design

By Jada D’Lee Designs
http://www.facebook.com/JadaDLeeDesigns

Printed in the United States of America

Please enjoy this special spinoff novella from my Don’t Tell series published by Grand Central Publishing/Forever Yours. More information about the series can be found following the story.

P
REFACE

September, 2070, Alpha Territory

Former United States of America

The Company’s reign is about to come to an end. Their grasp extends to all sixteen InterNations Territories from these former colonies of the United States and across all the continents. The CO filled a vacuum after the environmental destruction of the Purge voided out almost all civilian life. Bending citizens to their dictatorial rule of monogamy and monotony—heterosexuality and homogeny—the CO politicians have made themselves kings of the earth. Freelanders live outside the law, forever on the losing side of the civil war. Their communes are hidden within the Wilderness where they live off the land they brought back to life. The fight for freedom—to live in peace and love at will—has come to a head.

C
HAPTER
O
NE

H
AWKE

I hunkered outside the massive gate barring us from Sector 5, Alpha Territory, in the southeastern region of the former US. Timothy huddled beside me, timid as his name implied. He’d just been through his ceremony into adulthood, completing his initiation into the militia. At eighteen he was only six years my junior, but damn if he didn’t look about to shit his britches as another bomb went off inside the city.

I’d begged his momma to keep him home, but a man had to do what he had to do, which at this moment meant whimpering and holding his pistol in a loose grip as if he thought the thing had teeth to bite his hand off instead of bullets to be aimed at the Corps enemy.

“You need to hold that weapon like it’s your heart beatin’ inside your chest, son.” I scrabbled up the wall, cursing when the hot electric current from the razor wire at the top zapped my palms and zinged through my veins.

I dropped back down, but not before the scene inside Alpha shook me to the core. Fire leaped from buildings, people fled in the streets. Night had long fallen, making the flames appear brighter against the black backdrop. Many meters away, the deepest interior of the city was a hazy vista that clouded the skyline of glistening sharp structures with billowing smoke. My people, the Freelanders, had waited two generations to rid the world of the Company. Our time had come.

Two months ago, news of the coming Revolution had traveled from commune to commune, reaching us at Shoals on the southern deltas. It was broadcast far and wide to all other outposts in the Wilderness. The insider word was some CO hotshot had turned traitor and planned to contaminate by remote every water purification plant in each of the sixteen InterNations Territories starting with Alpha and spreading all the way to Nu in FarAsia. The defector’s digi-timed pollution had begun two hours ago. The ensuing chaos was intended to give insurgent leaders a chance to overrun the regime and overthrow the government, with our help.

The call to arms for Freelander brothers and sisters to join the rebel factions of the urban Territories was answered by hundreds more like me with my brigand of twenty warriors waiting for entry into Alpha. Finally, when Timothy twitched ten times for every rattling gunfire and whistling bomb, the gate groaned open before us. Rebels with high-powered rifles greeted us on the other side.

A leader stepped forward, gripping my hand. “Action’s in the city center, S-1 and S-2. Scope out but don’t lose sight of the prize. We’re gonna bring the Quadrangle down tonight.”

I’d studied maps of Territory layout. They were all the same. Poor sectors hugged the far edges. The richer areas in the middle all radiated toward the Quad, home to the government and military compounds. Sounded like a frigging great place to start mopping up some Corps ass.

I motioned to Ryder to lead the way, hanging back with Timothy because I sure as hell wasn’t letting the runt of the litter get picked off on his first foray. Ryder nodded—sending a shake to the crop of carrot-colored hair on his head—and grunted. He was a man of few words, which suited me fine because talking got in the way of action.

Muggy heat clung to me as I started to sprint. Sweat slicked my skin, stinging my eyes. We stormed the Territory right behind the rebel group. Sectors 4 and 5 were closed down tight, citizens no doubt hiding behind locked doors as the blitz of bombs shook the earth from the area we headed into.

The nighttime warfare became surreal on the outskirts of S-2. Corps troops struggled hand-to-hand with rebels. Gunshot deafened me. Thrown into the melee, I kept Timothy at my back and my handgun raised, sending out a steady fire. Blood sprayed. Bodies dropped. Our crew, my crew, got muddled up in the middle of it all. Fists pounded. Feet kicked. Someone latched onto my arm and I swung around.

It was Timothy. He hobbled on one foot. “Hawke!”

Shoving stray dreadlocks off my forehead, I squinted at the boy. I was called Hawke because of my eyes as well as my ability to shoot the shit out of a target without a fancy dope scope like the Corps elite trained with. Too bad my eyesight had failed me tonight. I could’ve saved Timmy from a bullet to the calf.

Shit.
I shoved an arm under his shoulder for support, ranging all around with my weapon. “How bad is it?”

“Bad.” His face turned a distinctly green color.

Hauling him into an alley, I bent him forward at the waist just before he vomited all over the pavement.

“Stay with me, Timmy, you’ll be fine. I promised your ma I’d bring you home to her.”

Sniper shots spit at my heels. I dragged him deeper down the narrow alley, listening to him retch all the way.

A man appeared at the dark end of the passage. “What have we got here?” If ever a voice sounded sinister, it was his. Deep, gritty, entertained by our predicament…the speaker definitely wasn’t a friendly.

He slinked forward silently, firearm raised in front of him. Dressed in the standard Corps uniform of dark blues, the officer waved his gun between Timmy and me, not from nerves, not because he was shifty. Because he was toying with us and very clearly had the upper hand in this situation.

“Can’t talk?” He smirked, stalking closer.

With a close-shaved head and a sinewy well-muscled build, he was deadly dressed up in coiled power. As lean and mean as they came. I stood taller in the face of his menace. He noticed, with a tilt of his gun to my chest.

“All right. I can fill in.” He ambled around us, unarming me and Timmy as he went. “Looks like a couple raiders got cut loose from their pack. There’s little boy here.” He pressed Timmy forward until he stumbled face first against a wall, blood soaking the bottom half of his pants leg. He pivoted to me. “And you would be his protector from the big bad Corps?”

“You don’t look much like big bad anything. And you talk a little too much.”

He grabbed Timmy, a snake making a fast strike. The corpsman’s forearm constricted his throat, his handgun moved to his head. “I can just shoot, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Don’t. Jesus, don’t.” I raised my hands.

Although he pulled the weapon away, he held it with a masterful grip, ready to unload. “Why not?” The brisk tone of his voice held something underneath, something entreating.

“He’s a kid.”

“I’ll let him go, in return for you coming with me without a fight.” Firm lips pulled into a half smile as his gaze boldly delved into mine.

“Do it.”

“Hawke, no!” Timmy fell to his knees when the enemy propelled him away.

Gun swiftly cocked between my shoulder blades, the trooper started walking me down the far end of the alley. “I’d advise the kid to get the fuck out of Alpha before someone else tries to kill him.”

“Find Ryder,” I called back to Timmy who scrabbled to his feet. “Find him, and get home.”

Marching me around a corner and into an even deeper recess where no troops or Freelanders were to be seen, the corpsman kicked open a door and prodded me through it. Pushing me against a wall, he searched me roughly, adding my ammo belt and two knives to his collection. He grasped me by my hair and pulled me farther inside. It appeared to be an old storage area, unused for a while judging by the dusty crates stacked against the walls. The building was somewhat secluded if you could ignore the bullets cracking and the screams wailing in the not too far distance. The sounds of war were a reminder death waited around every corner and it looked like I’d just met mine.

After thoroughly sweeping through the adjoining room, the enemy backed me into a corner. “This should do.”

I firmed up my stance, lifting an eyebrow. “All this for my execution? I’d kinda thought when I died it would be somethin’ more along the lines of fluffy white clouds and fields of pretty flowers.”

He regarded me with detached amusement. “You’ve got a smart mouth.”

“That’s not all that’s smart. Sometimes we rabid
Nomads
like to read books and shit too.” I glared at him.

Instead of responding, he eyed me all over. And, Jesus Christ, in some sick masochistic part of my soul, I thought he was sexy. He stood there like an open invitation to fuck, except for the gun pointed at my head. He was smug and almost magnetic. My breath grew labored, this time not out of fear. Immediate and distracting attraction for the asshole who’d sooner plug a bullet in my brain than blow my cock invaded each and every one of my senses.

One corner of his lips pulled up, revealing neat white teeth and the tip of his tongue. “Are you a queer, too?”

“Yeah. I am.” I swore I’d never lie about my sexuality no matter the consequences. “So go ahead and get your gay bashing out of the way.”

Eyes narrowing on mine, his grin deepened. “I don’t think so. This is where you try to run, man.”

Not fag. Not Nomad or scumbag, but man-to-man.

“I’ve never run from anything in my life. I’m not about to start now.” I spat at his feet.

His gun grazed my temple. “You’re a nasty little Nomad, aren’t you,
Hawke
?”

Filling my chest with a deep breath, I invaded his space. I might be a Nomad—he used the CO insult against my kind—but in no way was I little.

His arm, tense with muscle, curled around my neck, bringing me closer. He slid the gun barrel across my lips. “I could blow your mouth wide open, but I bet you got a better use for it.”

What?

He was so near me I could smell him. Earthy and salty and musky. He watched the muzzle of his weapon as he slid it across my lips. This close, the enemy’s eyes were an impossible color, glowing yellow-green. Cat-like in intensity. No, not just a cat; a killer, a lion. He looked like a demon in the dim light, high on blood lust. But when my tongue tripped across the barrel as I wet my lips, his pupils swallowed all the color of his irises into blackness, and a look of pure primal lust stole across his stern features. Suddenly he was beautiful in the way only a predator could be.

Deadly. Dangerous. Unpredictable.

As unpredictable as the heated kiss he suddenly sealed upon my lips. His tongue swept across my mouth, then dipped through the seam as soon as I gasped in response. His arm behind my neck drawing me closer, the man’s hand on my hip moved to my ass with a defiant squeeze, still daring me to run.

There was no way I was running from this. His lips were smooth, full. His tongue a hot dart caressing mine. Breath shattered from him when I slanted my face, kissing him back recklessly. My hands climbed to his biceps, fingertips gripping the hard muscle. I’d never kissed a corpsman before. They were supposed to be straight. I had killed plenty of them though. This one I didn’t want to kill. I wanted to fuck him until he was mindless.

And, oh holy hell, he is delicious.

He ripped my shirt open, groaning as his hot hands roamed my chest. Finding my belt, he hauled my groin to his rigid, thick erection. Biting, nuzzling, we crashed our mouths together. This was no timid seduction. This was wild untamed heat. Butting against each other. Bucking into each other. Teeth gnashing and harsh ragged breaths ending in deep curses.