“Useless isn’t an accurate description,” she said quietly.
“If they can’t help me, if they’re a hindrance, they’re fucking useless.” Months ago, he’d turned off the switch deep down that could see a gray area between the enemy and his people, and there was no changing that. He’d become what was needed to survive and to live through desperate times. “You might want to remember that fact.”
Her shoulders went back, and she rested her head, staring up at the roof. “I’d love to be useless.”
He turned to the front. Her words had been soft, her tone sad, and her meaning heartbreaking. So the woman wanted to die, did she? No fucking way. The blood in her veins was more than a luxury, it might be a necessity. She didn’t get to die. “Tell me you’re not the one I’m supposed to kill,” he said, his body on alert.
Silence ticked around the dented car for a moment. “Not yet, no.”
Great. All he needed was a depressed biological weapon in the form of a sexy brunette to mess with his already fucking fantastic daily schedule. “Lady, if you wanna eat a bullet, you should’ve done it before coming into my territory.” Since she was there, he was making use of her, and if that meant suicide watch around the clock, he’d provide the guards to keep her breathing and helpful.
“I know.” Fabric rustled, and she poked him in the neck. “When was your last injection?”
His head jerked as his neurons flared to life. He grabbed her finger before turning. “Almost a month ago.”
She tried to free herself and then frowned when she failed. “You’re about due, then. How many vials of B do you have left?”
He tugged her closer until she was leaning over the front seat, his gaze near to hers. “Doesn’t matter. Now I have you, don’t I? If we find the cure, we won’t need vitamin B.” This close, under the dirt and fear, he could smell woman. Fresh and with a hint of—what was that—vanilla? No. Gardenias. Spicy and wild.
She shook her head and again tried to free herself. “You can have all my blood you want. It won’t help.”
They drove past structures, and for the briefest of moments, empty lots full of decomposing fast food wrappers and broken beer bottles bracketed them on both sides. “Stop the car,” he said to Manny.
Manny pulled over as if he’d been waiting for the order. Jax released Lynne, stepped out of the vehicle, and pressed into the backseat next to her.
Her eyes widened, and she huddled back against the other door.
He drew a hood from his pocket. “Come here, darlin’.”
“No.” She scrambled away, her hands out.
With a sigh, he reached for a zip tie in his vest and way too easily secured her hands together. A second later, he pulled the hood over her head. He didn’t like binding a woman, but he didn’t have a choice, since she just might be working for an enemy. While the location of his territory was generally known, the weaknesses of entry and exit were not. “In the past year, as the world has gone to hell, hasn’t anybody taught you to fight?” he asked.
She kicked out, her bound hands striking for his worn bulletproof vest.
He lifted her onto his lap, wrapped an arm over hers and around her waist, manacling her legs with one of his. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you, but you can’t know our route or see our defenses.”
“Right.” She shoved back an elbow, her warm little body struggling hard.
Desire flushed through him, pounding instantly into his cock. God, she was a handful.
She paused. “Ah—”
“You’re safe. Just stop wiggling.” His voice lowered and was hoarse. Jesus. When was the last time he’d gotten laid? He actually couldn’t remember. She was a tight handful of energy and womanly curves, and his body reacted instantly. The more she gyrated against him, trying to fight, the more blood rushed south of his brain. He had to get her under control before he began panting like a teenager.
“No.” Her voice rose, and she tried to flail around again. “You can’t manhandle me like this.”
If she had any clue how he’d like to handle her, she’d be screaming. He took several deep breaths and forced desire into the void, where it belonged. He wanted her hooded, not afraid. “If you were mine, you’d know how to fight.” Where that thought came from, he’d never know.
She squirmed on his lap, fully contained. “Good thing I’m not yours, now isn’t it?”
He exhaled and held her tighter until she gave up the fight and submitted against him. The light whimper of frustration echoing behind the hood sounded almost like a sigh of pleasure. When she softened, he hardened. Again.
Then he released his hold and whispered right through the hood to her ear. “That’s where you’re wrong, Lynne Harmony. The second you crossed into Vanguard territory, the very moment you asked for my help, that’s exactly what you became.”
“What?” she asked, sounding breathless now.
“Mine.”
Chapter Two
We teach our children to work hard and believe in the unbelievable. It is by fostering such hope that we may all somehow survive.
—Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony
Lynne tried to hold still and ignore the very solid body surrounding her. Heat emanated from him, and for so long, way too long, she’d felt nothing but a constant chill. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t help but relax a little into his warmth.
“There you go,” he murmured, his mouth near her ear. “Sorry about the hood. If you’re claustrophobic, it’ll pass.”
As long as she wasn’t submerged in water, her one phobia, she was fine. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to reassure him of that fact. So she stayed silent.
He sighed and seemed to stretch out a little, taut muscles relaxing. “I have six soldiers around us? and we’ll make it back to the base before dawn arrives. Even though we have a partially cleared route through debris, we have to keep to alleys and side roads to avoid attack.”
“So?” Her voice emerged muffled from the damn hood.
“So take advantage of the moment and get a quick nap. You’re not going anywhere, and I promise nobody will hurt you on my watch. Take the moment, Lynne Harmony.” He moved enough to jostle her, resettling her in place, and she would’ve bet her only pair of socks that he’d lain back his head and shut his eyes.
She considered her options.
“If you even think about going for the knife strapped to your calf, you won’t like my response,” he whispered. One hand banded around her neck and drew her face against his upper chest.
“I hadn’t,” she protested without thinking, her cheek against his shoulder. “I have an IQ well into the triple digits, Mercury. Killing you right now surrounded by your people would be incredibly stupid. I’m not stupid.” Plus, she needed him. Needed not only his protection but his resources. So he’d noticed her knife. It was a little insulting that he’d let her keep it, obviously not fearing her ability to use it on him.
His breathing evened out.
On all that was holy. She carried a blade, was feared by half of the remaining world and hated by the rest. Against all logic, Jax Mercury had just fallen asleep holding her.
Of course, she’d known he was well trained. Didn’t soldiers learn to catnap whenever there was a brief break in the fighting? But she wasn’t a soldier and never would be, so sleep was out of the question.
The car jumped and hit several potholes before leveling out. Her nails dug into his chest to keep her upright. She could push back up and sit like a stiff board, or she could keep her face against his broad chest, where he’d put her. Where for the briefest of moments, it felt safe.
While she couldn’t relax enough to sleep, considering she had no clue what he was going to do to her once they arrived at his headquarters, she could at least concentrate on loosening her neck muscles and diminishing her constant headache.