Havoc

32 Coming in Hot

At the east checkpoint, the sentries reeked of rotgut and could barely stand upright. Jael bit out a curse. “I doubt there’s a sober man left in the place to relieve them.”

“Not who isn’t already assigned elsewhere.” Dred scraped an angry hand through her tangled hair. The trinkets clacked with the movement.

“Then we’ll have to finish their watch.”

She sighed. “It’s not how I wanted to spend our night, but it’s necessary.”

“I don’t mind.” He could’ve said that was because he had her with him, but it seemed like too close to a confession. Though he’d promised to help her escape, they’d never talked about a future. In here, such a thing didn’t exist.

“I appreciate it.” She turned to the drunken guards. “Get to bed. Now. If I find out you went to the common room to keep drinking, you’ll get worse than a flogging tomorrow.”

Jael could see that the men believed her, and they stumbled off, leaving their post. Dred took up the weapons they’d left behind and handed one to Jael. He’d never stood watch like this, and he guessed it had been a long time for her, too.

“Did Artan ever station you here?” he asked.

She shook her head. “He preferred to keep me close.”

So do I.

It was a long night, listening to distant shouts from sotted Queenslanders. And when relief turned up, they were visibly worse for the wear and stunk of liquor.

“Are you two sober enough to stand watch?” Dred demanded. She put them through a series of a tests and eventually gave grudging permission for them to take over. “If there’s an incursion on your watch because one of you passed out, you better hope the enemy kills you before I do. I guarantee it’ll be faster.”

“We’ll keep each other awake,” the soldier promised.

“You almost made him piss himself,” Jael said, once they moved off.

“That’s my job.”

Together, they walked in silence to her quarters. Things had died down at last in the common room, the din replaced by periodic snoring. “I can only imagine how long it’ll take to set the place to rights.”

“Cook will see to it. He’ll kick the ones awake who passed out in the hall and make them clean.”

“That’ll teach them not to drink themselves stupid.”

“It hasn’t so far.”

After Jael stepped inside her quarters, she sealed the door behind them. “Not in the mood for company?”

“Just yours. Let me shower; and then . . .”

“And then?”

“We get some shut-eye.”

“Really?” He tried a mocking smile. “Don’t I deserve a reward for keeping you company tonight?”

“Maybe you just needed to ask.”

She slipped into the bath, then he heard the water running. If there was more space, he’d join her, but the san-shower was designed so tight that one person of average size could barely fit. It wouldn’t be seductive to get wedged in there. So he waited for her, sprawled on a chair while his eyes burned with weariness. He didn’t sleep much at the best of times and he was still mulling what had happened with Vix and Zediah. Keeping such a huge issue from Dred didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t let Zed spill his secret, either.

When she stepped out a few minutes later, she was clad only in a threadbare towel. Jael didn’t stir, letting her come to him. And once she dried off, she did.

“Did you want a turn?”

“I probably should.”

But Jael made his ablutions quick, an effort of necessity rather than luxury. She was already in bed waiting for him when he stepped out, and the lights were down, wreathing the room in darkness. External noises made him think downtime was almost over, but Queensland could get by for a few hours without them.

“I’m tired,” she said softly.

“Then we can sleep.” He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed, though.

“I find that a workout before bed helps me to relax.”

Jael grinned. “Don’t invent reasons for sex, love. Just tell me that you want it.”

She propped up on an elbow and reached for him. “Not it. You.”

It took him two seconds to reach the bed, but she flipped him as soon as he touched her. “You smell good. Clean.”

“I do what I can.”

Heat simmered in Jael’s head, making it difficult to lie still. Dred was all shadow and hollows, but the play of muscle beneath her skin hinted at strength—and that he liked, very much. She was fire and vengeance. Blood. Sex. The two swelled around her until the two urges melded; she was carnal death, kneeling over him. He ached. She smelled luscious as she leaned down. Her mouth brushed the side of his throat.

He turned his head with a little growl, allowing her better access. Then she gripped with her teeth. The mock-threat should’ve been laughable; there was no way she could hurt him. But pleasure rolled through him regardless, particularly when her tongue traced where she’d bitten. More softness and heat. Desire careened in his veins, spiraling along nerve endings that could scarce contain its breadth.

He shifted, already wishing he could push her down and seize control. Never had he permitted a female to take charge of him like this. Yet there was a delicious, addictive quality to her softness—the way her hair fell across his throat as she ran her lips around to the other side. He breathed her in, delighting in her closeness. Dred bit her lip with her curious, blunt teeth, and phantom pleasure stole through him; he registered the bite as if to his own body.

“Ahh.” He arched. It was all he could do not to overpower her right then. Yet this was not a game of dominance, but something else, frightening and new. Jael trembled with the need to reach for her; closing his eyes helped a little.

“So you like that. Good to know.”

“Please tell me you’re not stopping.”

“I’m not.” She lowered her head.

Hell. If another woman in here got near him down there with her teeth, he’d scramble away, especially after Martine’s story. Her silken hair brushed him, and his whole body jerked. A snarl escaped him. Pleasure approached pain—and not because it actually hurt, but it was too much, too good, and he didn’t understand what he’d done to earn this extra gratification. Before, his encounters always ran on expected lines.

Not with her, never with her.

The first brush of her lips made him roar and draw his knees up. It was . . . indescribable. Her tongue followed. She teased up and down, using both in a sweet, maddening pattern. He pushed up, twisting and growling. This teasing would kill him.

She lifted her head, and he saw her lips were swollen, so red and shiny that he wanted to bite them. Jael pushed up to meet her, nipping with feral need. She welcomed it, opening her mouth to let him use his teeth on her tender flesh. Oh. Ohhh. She had her hand on him again, squeezing, stroking.

“I yield.” Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, but in his head, he was babbling other words, promises, offers of devotion.

Somehow, he strangled them.

In answer, she swung a smooth leg across his body and came up on her knees. Her muscles flexed, tightening her stomach as she curled her hand around him again. Even that proved almost more than he could take.

“Hold my hips,” she whispered.

Jael did, his hands digging in, and she dropped, letting her weight do the rest. His breath went in a strangled gasp.

Her body clung—all heat and demand. He pushed up to meet her on each downward stroke. The sensation maddened him, but the position let him watch her build.

Her groans grew guttural. Dred breathed faster, exhaling in lovely gulps through her open mouth. And then she drew his fingers down. Despite his own madness and need, he took careful note as her whole body tensed; she sobbed out his name, her skin shiny with sweat. In response, he pulled her down hard.

“Is it too much?” Jael didn’t know whether he could stop, even if it was.

As he gazed up at her, the awareness exploded through him, wonder and amazement mingling with the furious delight. This is Dred, the woman who saved me. He was shaking when she lay down on him, tucking her face into the crook between his neck and shoulder.

“Can you sleep now?”

“Mmm,” she murmured.

When her breathing evened out, he had his answer. The specter of Vix and Zediah surged to the forefront of his brain. I don’t need this shit. Between Silence’s disappearing act and the mercs who would invade as soon as they put down Mungo’s cannibal dogs, he shouldn’t have to worry about internal threats, too. But in a place like Perdition, it came with the territory. While Queensland was better than the alternatives, it still wasn’t populated with honorable, trustworthy men.

Much like you.

Despite the worry, he slept for a few hours. Jael never rested for more than four. Dred was still passed out when he rolled out of bed and got dressed. He was silent as he went, but before he got out the door, the alarm sounded. Klaxons had Dred out of the bunk and on her feet, scrambling for her clothes before he unlocked the door.

“What the hell’s going on?” she demanded.

“No idea. I’ll go find out. Catch up when you can.”

Jael went at a run, blowing past other men scrambling toward the north barricade. Tam and Martine met him, sprinting hard, but he shot by to where the sentries lay in a bloody heap. From the look of the hallway, it had been ravaged with heavy rounds, not laser fire, and the junk that formed the barricade was practically shredded. He moved closer to the rubble to see what the hell was lurking outside.

A weapon unloaded just beyond his line of sight, and he grabbed hold of the sentries, towing them back toward cover. They might be dead, but he couldn’t be sure. A ballistic round slammed through a metal plate and nailed him in the leg. Pain rocketed outward, followed by a trickle of hot blood. Gritting his teeth, Jael pulled harder.

His iron grip prompted a groan from one of the guards, and he opened his eyes. “Get back. Mercs, all the mercs. And they brought a Peacemaker.”