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Authors: Jennifer Kacey

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“Status report,” Chrome snapped, as he too dropped into the pit. The man was covered in filth and dirt like the rest of them, but he commanded attention.

“Respiration and pulse are both thready,” Plat answered. “She’s alive. We need to get this backboard in place and secure her neck before we turn her.”

Blood ran down her leg, and beneath her bare leg lay another. “She’s on top of someone.”

No swearing. No words. The men moved with such brutal efficiency. The backboard strapped into place, her neck secured with a thick white collar. Above, two paramedics were on standby and Chrome had a radio in his hand. “Land the fucking helicopter on the street if you have to. She’s getting airlifted as soon as we get her out of this hole.” He released the button and said, “Get her out and find Cobalt. Now.”

Grim anger decorated every syllable, and the men responded by working harder. Hell, Gabriel responded. When they were ready, he helped flip her. Her eyes opened again, and Merc let out a harsh breath.

“John…” she whispered, and Merc covered her hand with his.

“I’m right here. Stay awake.”

“Cobalt’s dead.” The whispered words came out ragged, and Gabriel turned a light on the man they’d uncovered beneath her. He’d been the guy hanging all over her at the night before. His head was canted in the wrong direction. Broken neck.

“Don’t leave him behind.” Copper’s voice broke and something inside of Gabriel shifted. Raw, empty pain. “Don’t leave him.”

“We have him,” Chrome said, then he glanced at Gabriel. “We need to have never been here. We’ll take our people.”

Understanding burned in his chest. He wanted to go with her, but they needed cover. “I’ll take care of it.” He had some pull.

Chrome nodded once and moved out.

Dismissed, Gabriel transferred his gaze to Merc. Copper barely moved, but she held onto Merc’s bloodied hands with her own torn and damaged ones. That should be him, —not scarface, but she hadn’t reached for Gabriel. “Take care of her.”

Merc nodded and Gabriel headed for the ropes. He looped one around his waist, and started to climb. The men at the top hauled him out. On the surface, he glanced down at her. The dazed, pained look on her face rocked him. So vulnerable, and he had to leave her to the men lifting her. They had her. She was alive.

That
mattered.

Outside, a circus of television cameras and lights awaited him. Stripping the makeshift mask off, he went out to distract the hungry masses. A man in an FBI coat met him, and he said, “Gabriel Danvers. CIA. Get your director and mine on the phone.”

Every word cost him, and he was violently aware of the sound of a helicopter as it landed, then took off minutes later carrying her away.

They needed to have never been there.

Gabriel would erase the trail.

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

One week later…

 

Copper hated hospitals. She didn’t give a flying fuck that they’d moved her to a private wing of the compound, or that the nurses and doctors treating her were all highly specialized and trusted operatives. Plat checked on her. Merc parked next to her bed and he’d been there every time she passed out or woke up. Chrome came to see her—she’d tried to debrief and, after getting out the pertinent details, he’d ordered her to shut up and rest.

The worst was when she woke up and one of the ghosts lurked in the room. She’d seen the same masked figure four times. Always just inside the room, standing nearby the shadows. Fucking pain drugs kept muddying the waters, so by the time she could focus, they were always gone.

Cobalt was dead.

The reality of it struck her every time she woke. Sometimes she could go a whole thirty seconds before the reminder hit. Hours she’d spent curled up next to him. She’d woken in the dark, his head tucked against her breast. She’d tried to crawl, to move and free up the air for him. Pain blacked her out repeatedly, but she’d fought through it.

The world detonating around her opened up an old wound. Brad had died in a similar explosion. Her team decimated. Merc had dragged her out of that hell, and he’d been there when she opened her eyes. It was Russia all over again, and she wanted to scream. Maybe she had. They’d injected her with something and the world shut off.

Only, it hadn’t not really. She floated through the hell. Drifting from one island of memory to another on a current of disappointment, failure, and grief. Washing up on one island, Brad dragged her out of the water. His skin was so warm under her fingers. He cradled her hand in both of his.

“You have to stop this.” The order jerked her out of the well of self-pity. “Time to wake up. Can you open your eyes? Just let me see you’re still in there.”

“Stop bossing me around.” God, he was dead and he gave her orders. Damn thing was, she wanted to follow them. Wanted to dig her nails into his hand, feel him grip her hair and then tell her everything would be all right.

“You can do this, Sachi,” he whispered. So close, she could almost feel his breath on her cheek. “Listen to me. I know you think this is the drugs and the pain. I know you’re hurting, but you’re out of that hole, babe. You’re out. I need you to be okay.”

“You’re dead,” she said. For the longest moment… “When I woke up in that hole, I thought it was you.” The tears fell, and she hated herself for them. She hadn’t cried in a long time, didn’t want to cry. “I thought we were—I thought I’d found you again.” Wanted to find him. “I miss you.”

When silence greeted her declaration, she fought to get her eyes open. The room was empty and another tear slid down her cheek. She hated this, hated feeling the loss all over again. Cobalt shouldn’t have died. Brad shouldn’t have. Nor should Zinc and Uranium.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw them again. Alive. Worried. Working. Waiting. The sorrow in them. They were too far away, and she couldn’t get to them.

They were never supposed to leave a man behind.

Why had he left her?

Waking again, after another hideous journey down the it’s a shitty world merry go round, she pushed the blankets off. She had to get out of the bed, out of the hospital. They needed answers and…

“Get your ass back in that bed.” Merc stood in the open doorway, glaring.

“I hate this bed.” She didn’t whine or complain, and made it to sitting upright. They’d had to do surgery, repair some organ damage, but she’d managed not to break a single bone.
Go figure.
“I want to go to the funeral.” Cobalt deserved a flag, an honor guard, and she should be there.

“When you can stand, fine.” He hadn’t moved from the doorway. “Until then, your ass stays in that bed.”

He only got this angry with her when she’d scared him. Gripping the edge of the bed, she glanced at him. “If I can’t get up, I can’t go find Gabriel.”

She hadn’t let herself think about him. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted to do exactly that. Merc mentioned Gabriel had been there, in the hole. How he’d bled right alongside them to get to her and Cobalt. No hesitation. Chrome mentioned it briefly, ending his statement with Danvers came through. Despite all the coverage the disaster in Las Vegas earned on the news, they weren’t involved, and no mention of any of them had been made.

Reports cited everything from a gas leak to a possible bomb. Homeland Security wasn’t releasing details. Ant said he thought it was more targeted—a drone strike. It would explain the flash. The aircraft hit the building for the first explosion and its fuel tanks detonated for the second. A theory, but one Merc and Plat both agreed with. The death toll was over two hundred and the numbers climbed each day. The wounded? More than a thousand, and they didn’t think all of those had been accounted for yet.

“You don’t need to find him.” John pointed a finger at her. “Stay in the fucking bed or I’ll handcuff you to it.” He crossed the room and nailed her with a long stare. “You tried to die on me.”

“Not on purpose.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“I’ll do my best.” Then because she loved him too, she added, “Asshole.”

“When you can actually stand long enough to look me in the eye and say that, fine.” He almost smiled. “Until then, you stay put. Besides, you have an assignment anyway.”

Her head ached. She’d kill for a shower, and she wanted out of the damn r—“What the hell?” They wouldn’t let her out of bed, but she had an assignment? She shouldn’t bitch. She was alive, and they still had a job to do. But her heart wasn’t in it, not right now. “What is it?”

“They’re bringing in a consultant. Chrome cleared him, so did Steele. He’s your assignment. You’re going to be laid up, and you’re the best with intelligence anyway. So you will debrief him, bring him up to speed, and put him to work.”

Irked. Vexed. Pissed. The words were too weak for the anger seething in her. “Why?”

“Because you need eyes and ears on the ground you can trust and instincts nearly as sharp as yours.” Merc shrugged and nodded to the door. “That said, if you decide he’s a no, just say the word. I’ll bounce his ass out of here for you.”

With that, he opened the door to reveal Gabriel waiting. A fading bruise decorated his cheek and his knuckles were raw and scabbed. She drank in the sight of him, cataloging every injury. His gaze swept her from head to toe with similar intensity, and his mouth tightened.

“You forgot to mention the head wound.”

“No,” Merc said. “I didn’t forget anything. Remember what I said, Copper.” Then he faced off with Gabriel. “Danvers, I
will
be watching.”

“So you said. So Chrome said. So did the big bastard at the gate.” The faint smile in his voice warmed her. The man was fearless.

Or insane.

“John,” she said, wanting to end this before they decided to let their testosterone sort it out. “It’s okay.”

“Fifteen minutes,” Merc said to Gabriel. “She needs to rest.”

“On that we agree.” She could almost hear the smirk in his words, and her heart thudded a little harder. Merc really needed to move. She wanted to see Gabriel, make sure he really was okay. “Trust me, the only place I plan on letting her go is to the bathroom and then only if she asks nicely.”

“Good.”

Wonderful.
Now she had two of them.

Merc glanced back at her, and she saw the question in his eyes. Was she sure she wanted this? Did she really want Gabriel?

For the first time, the answer was crystal clear.

“Yes.” She mouthed the word and Merc nodded then stepped to the side so Gabriel could enter. He didn’t waste time on Merc and crossed the room to her. “Hi…”

“Don’t hi me,” he said with his characteristic smile and nearly no bite to the words. With exquisite gentleness, he lifted her legs and eased her back into the bed. Instead of covering her, however, he skated his touch lightly down her legs and checked each one. Moving to her hands, he lifted those and inspected the damage. They’d taken off her idiot mittens and left the palms lightly wrapped. His looked worse in places than hers.

“What are you doing here?” Here being the compound in Texas. The location wasn’t exactly available on Google, and they had security measures in place to discourage even the most casual of droppers by.

Seated on the edge of the bed, he met her gaze. He really did look ragged—wonderful, but ragged. The shadows beneath his eyes were swollen and the whites were bloodshot.

“And why aren’t you sleeping?”

His answer? “A building fell on you.”

“I was there.”

“No,” he said. “You were under it. We were up top, and I couldn’t get to you. I have never felt so fucking helpless in my life.”

Yeah. She knew helpless. “Cobalt saved my life.”

“I know.” He touched a finger to her bruised cheek. The unbearably light touch drifted against her skin like a feather. “I’m sorry.” Not much else to say. Another body for them to bury. Another brother to bid farewell.

As nice as his touch and his nearness was, none of it explained his presence. “Why are you here? In Texas?”

“Seems like I have a useful skill set,” he said, quirking a half smile. “And your friend
John
gave me a reference.”

John had?

“Look, I don’t have to stay. If you and him have a thing…”

“Me and Merc?” Copper snorted. “Yeah, he’s like my brother-best friend-Marine-team-family, all rolled into one. We bleed for each other, but he’s not lover or my boyfriend, no matter what he may have implied.”

Relief shone in Gabriel’s eyes and he grinned. “He just let me know he knew about a lot of untraceable poisons. Most of them would kill me, but if I hurt you…he had some that did more unpleasant things.”

“He must like you.” At his skeptical look, she said, “He warned you. If he didn’t like you, you’d just be dead, no warning required.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He threaded his fingers with hers.

“So
why
are you here?”

“I’m here for you. I’m here because I can’t get you out of my head. I’m here because the worst hours of my life were after a building fell on you followed by watching all of them take you away.” He shook his head, the emotion darkening his voice. “I’m here because I can love you, and I plan to prove it to you, if you’ll let me.”

Pretty words, except… “Gabriel, you don’t even know me.”

“Maybe not.” He didn’t argue with her. “I
want
to know you. You could be my puzzle for fifty years and I don’t think I’d get tired of trying to solve you. You’re a complicated woman. Stubborn. Strong. Determined. Smart. God, you’re smart. I see that in how you respond to things, to adapt—to survive.”

Closing her eyes, she let her head sink into the pillow.

“If you’re tired, this can wait…”

“No,” she squeezed his hand. “Don’t go. I am tired, but when I said you don’t know me? You don’t know all the things I’ve done. The places I’ve been. The people I’ve lost.” Hell, a casino fell on her head. The attack had been against the little terrorist bazaar they’d stumbled across, but it didn’t matter. They’d be feeling the collateral loss for years yet.

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