Dead Force Rising (10 page)

“I need 10mg of valium stat,” Dr.
Hough told her as he continued to push the blue-tinted substance.

Thorn dropped the washcloth on the
floor and jumped to get the medication that translated to a liquid nap.
Grabbing the prefilled syringe from the drug box, a thought struck her. How had
Hough known he would need the medication he was currently administrating to
John? A sickening feeling knotted her stomach as she turned to look at him over
her shoulder. Obviously the doctor knew things
he
 
wasn't
sharing. Bringing the valium
filled needle back to the table, she watched carefully as Hough pushed the drug
and John’s seizures stopped.

“What’s going on?” Thorn asked,
looking directly at Dr. Hough.

“He was injected with a mixture of
silver, sulfur, and barium. The combination breaks down the viral attachment
between the various strands of DNA.” He told her, slipping off his latex gloves
and tossing them in a nearby trashcan.

All right, that all sounded like a
bunch of scientific mumbo-jumbo she would never understand, but it also wasn’t
exactly what she’d been asking. Instead of calling him out on the preload of
the blue stuff, Thorn turned her attention back to John. There would be time
later to corner the man on what was happening around here.

“He’ll need to remain sedated for at
least twenty-four hours to allow his body to regenerate and
to
 
heal
any internal damage. I suggest
having a guard on standby in case the breakdown managed to affect his mind,”
Hough said before exiting the room.

“I’ll tell the General,” Beamer said,
moving to follow the man out of the room, leaving Thorn and the remaining two
members of John’s team standing around his unconscious body.

“Are you two ok
, ”
Thorn asked, looking at the two men who both looked as though they’d been through
the ringer.

“Yes, thank you,” Hark offered as he
scratched his head and pulled a hard metal stool over near the edge of the bed.
“Our injuries will be healed within the hour. Rose will be all right too,
Thorn. I am certain of it.”

She smiled at the battle wary soldier
as he took a seat alongside his Sergeant and friend. Thorn liked
he
and Bell. She wasn’t so certain about Beamer.
 
She knew from some of the conversations
between her and John over the past week he felt the same. He trusted these two
and that was enough for her.

“The doctor knew what John was
injected with before the alarm sounded that you were coming in,” Thorn told
Hark and waited with her hand against John’s head for his reaction.

“What do you mean? How could he?”

“I don’t know. I came in just to make
certain the room was ready in case we needed it and to make me feel as though I
was doing something other than just standing around. Dr. Hough was already in
here talking to someone on his cell and drawing up that blue stuff he shot John
up with.”

Hark looked at her quiet for a moment
and then at the empty syringe the doctor left sitting on the counter.

“None of us called in other than on
the radio to say we were coming in hot with a man down.” Hark jumped to his
feet and paced quickly around the room as both Thorn and Bell watched him.
“Which means the doctor already knew the enemy was going do this. He knew what
it was and when it was going to happen.”

Thorn wanted to feel vindicated in
her suspicions but with John lying strapped to that damn bed, she didn't feel
happy at being right.

“You stay here with the Sergeant.
We’re going to see the General and get to the bottom of this,” Hark ordered as
both he and Bell headed out the door.

Left alone, Thorn took the stool Hark
vacated and put her hand in John's. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head
against the cot and sighed. The feeling of his fingers curling around hers made
her smile as she raised her head to see his amber eyes looking at her somewhat
confused.

“Hey babe.
How are you feeling?” Thorn asked,
brushing a kiss to top of his fingers.

“Where is everyone?” he asked
hoarsely while pulling at the restraints. “Why am I tied down?”

“Hark and Bell went to talk with
General Striate. They had to give you some sort of antidote to whatever that
monster injected into you. It caused a seizure. The doctor want to keep you
sedated for a few hours so you can heal.” She told him quietly then wondered
why she was whispering.

“Bullshit. Untie me.”

“I want you to stay right where you're,
Sergeant. At least until I know for certain you’re back to one hundred percent,”
the General told him loudly as he stepped through the door, Hark and Bell close
behind along with a set of guards.

CHAPTER TEN

John was tired but this was the last
place he wanted to rest. It was cold, smelled of rubbing alcohol and it was too
damn bright. The only good thing was the fact Thorn still held his hand.
Blinking and shaking his head a bit, he tried to clear the cobwebs in his head
and recall what brought him here. The last thing he fully remembered was
snapping the supposed victim’s neck after it shoved something into his chest.
Everything from there on was fuzzy glimpses with bits and pieces of
conversations.

“What’s going on, General?” He asked
weakly as a new wave of fatigue pulled at him.

“It appears I’m not the first Commanding
Officer of a team such as yours, Sergeant. Neither
are
you all the first attempt to make such a team. The good Doctor has a lot to
explain and once you have recovered, I'll fill each of you in on what
information we were all denied.”

“Until then were going to make
certain you get some rest,” Hark said as he began unfasten the restraints.
“Let’s get you back to your own bed and out of this damn place.”

Hark and Bell moved to assist him as
he sat up slowly and slid off the bed. John’s head spun and his knees buckled
as he stood. Luckily, both men had his back and caught him.

“We gotcha, Sarg.
And Thorn's going to stay with you
in case you need anything,” Bell told him as they moved at a snail like pace
out the door and down the corridor toward his room.

“Let’s get on with it then,” he
grumbled as they continued. “If you let me fall I swear I’ll have you scrubbing
port-a-potties at the next community renaissance fair.”

“Damn boss, that’s just cruel,” the
youngest member of his team said with a laugh.

They stopped long enough for Thorn to
open the door to his room and flip on the light. The two men sat him on the
edge of the large bed and waited to make certain he was all right before
heading for the door.

“All right boss, you’re home. We’ll
see you in a few hours,” Hark said as he stepped out and began to pull the door
closed behind him. “And remember, you're supposed to be resting,” he added,
giving Thorn a sly knowing grin.

“Yeah, whatever.
Now all of you get your ugly asses
out of my room,” John said with a laugh as the door closed.

His own bed made him feel a hundred
percent better. Thinking about it,
he
 
wasn't
nearly as weak as he’d been when
he woke. All of which made him think of something other than resting while Thorn
was in his room. John wanted to be buried deep inside her, to feel Thorn's body
tremble around him as he took her over the edge fast and hard.

“Thorn, sweetie.
Could you hand me that black duffle
from the shelf in the closet?” He asked, smiling as she did what he asked.

“What are you doing?” she questioned
and he knew from her tone she’d thought to give him a lecture about needing to
rest.

Sitting upright slowly, John was
relieved to discover the dizziness had dissipated. Hopefully all the weakness
had as well. He patted the mattress beside him and waited for her to join him,
taking her by the hair and pulling her mouth to his the moment her butt hit the
bed.

“You should be resting,” Thorn
chastised though her breathless flushed comment did little to convince him of her
sincerity.

“Say you're mine, Thorn. That you're
only mine and that you'll give to me what I need and want.” He nearly begged.
“Do this and I promise you pleasure unlike any you’ve ever experienced.”

****

Thorn’s body fought with her mind. On
one hand, she knew John really needed to rest. Hell, he’d damn near died just a
little over two hours earlier. On the other, he was obviously feeling just as
horny as she was and if needed, she could always let him lay back and let her
do all the work. However, she couldn’t see John letting her lead when it came
to sex.

“Are you certain you’re up to this?”
she asked

In response, John took her hand and
ran it across the rise of his pants. She sucked in a breath
..
She’d forgotten how large he was.

“I'll,” she whispered, looking up at
him a bit afraid of the commitment she knew he was implying.
This
 
wasn't
a simple request for sex.
This was forever. When her brother died, she swore to herself she would never
fall in love with a soldier. She never wanted to face the idea he’d be called
away never to return. Too bad her heart hadn’t agreed.

Slowly John began to unbutton the
blouse she wore, slipping it off and tossing it on the chair in the corner
before moving on to her slacks. She raised her butt and stretched her legs out
so
her
could easily slide them off, his hands stroking
her thighs and calves as he did. Moments later she sat before him on the bed in
only her undergarments and she was thankful for once she’d actually put on her
best matched set. How embarrassing would it have been to be in a sports bra and
granny panties?

“Do you trust me?” he asked, then
smiled as Thorn shook her head yes.

She watched as he reached into the
duffle, pulling out two lengths of dark cloth. Raising her eyes questionably,
Thorn ran her tongue along her lower lip. She knew he was the dominate type who
liked to play rough so she guessed
bondage
 
wasn't
all that big of a stretch.

He twisted so that he was facing her
rather than sitting at her side. John lifted one of the lengths of cloth and
used it to cover her eyes, its long length trailed behind her. Thorn felt his
weight lift from the mattress but sat silent listening to the soft sound of his
footsteps on the tile floor. The scrap of his wooden dresser drawer opening
followed, and left her wondering what he planned next, a question which was
quickly answered as she felt something stroke against her shoulder and down her
arm.

“Is that a feather?” she asked,
certain that
is was
. It had to be.

“Yes.”

“You keep it in your drawer?”

John chuckled, “I brought it back
with me from Afghanistan. My unit was travelling north between the Helmand
Valley and Bamiyan, one of a dozen missions and Thomas and I were standing up
on this mountain top scouting for trouble. We were both standing there
wondering if it mattered to anyone over here what we were doing. At that
moment, this golden eagle
came
gliding on the wind,
screeching over our heads. As the bird circled us, this came floating down and landed
at my feet. I thought it was a sign that what we were doing mattered. I’ve kept
it all this time.”

Thorn felt the barbs of the quills
vane barely touch along her abdomen and then sweep across the inside of her
thighs, the sensation making her shift her position. Millions of chills raked
her body and she shivered. The idea she had no clue what he would do next
excited her, causing damp, hot moisture to gather across her labia.

John stopped using the feather to
touch her, switching instead to the tender caress of his hands and lips. He
moved across her ribs and around her back, unfastening the clasp of her bra and
allowing it to fall away. He was so gentle, so patient, and it was aggravating
the shit out of her. When he reached up and slid the blindfold down, Thorn used
the moment to bring out the side of him she wanted, the beast who knew how to
take her hard and fast over the edge of all sanity. The sound of the impact of
her hand striking John’s cheek echoed through the room and he dropped his jaw.

“If I wanted a gentle man, I would be
in bed with a sailor,” she challenged, watching as the fire she enjoyed
returned to his eyes along with a smirk that said he understood completely.

****

John growled deep in his chest,
pleased that Thorn wanted him exactly as he was, rough, and wild. His intend
was to woo her with gentle caresses even though it was outside his character.
It was refreshing to find
she
 
wasn't
a delicate flower who needed or
desired a gentle lover but a woman who gave in to the darker, more primal side
of her desires. John planned to fill her request completely.

Grabbing hold of the cloth that now
hung around her neck, John jerked her toward him, crushing his mouth to Thorn's
in a forceful, bruising kiss.