Reese allowed herself a moment to treasure this. This girl and her siblings. The people she’d sworn to protect.
This war she’d started . . . it wasn’t simply about destroying the council for her own bloodlust. It was about making the world a safe place for Christine and all the girls who would come after her. It was allowing Christine to have the choices that the council had taken away from Reese.
“Go see Bethany and ask her for a pill,” she said softly. “Take half of one, then get a hot water bottle and lie down.”
Christine nodded.
“We’ll talk more later, all right, honey? I need to go to the garage now to see Beckett.”
Christine nodded shyly, then flitted away.
Reese had barely taken two steps down the sidewalk when another voice called out to her. Her shoulders instantly tensed. Shit. Rylan was making his way toward her.
She should’ve never given in to him.
“We need to talk,” he said as he neared.
She kept walking. “Told Sloan to talk to you.”
“Didn’t take you for a coward.”
That got her attention. She halted and swiveled toward him. “What was that?”
He planted his hands on his hips and gave her a half-amused, half-exasperated look. She itched to punch it right off his face.
“You heard me.” He closed the distance between them. “You want to tell me off, then tell me to my face, otherwise I’m gonna assume that you’re too chicken. Because we both know last night was the best sex of your life.”
She forced out a laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
A feral look spread across his face, sharpening his cheekbones and darkening his eyes. “It was.”
Reese swayed on her feet, assaulted by the memory of his hands, Sloan’s hands, Rylan’s thick cock, the ache between her thighs. “I—”
“Enforcers at the gate!” someone yelled from the watchtower.
“Goddammit,” Reese muttered.
Rylan reached for her, but she danced backward. She didn’t need his touch right now, even if it was meant to be protective. There were more important things to worry about than whether she should sleep with him again.
But damned if it wasn’t the one thought that lingered in her mind as she stalked toward the front gate.
7
As the gates opened with a loud metallic grind, Sloan couldn’t fight the growing tension in his body. Couldn’t stop from scowling either, though his inability to paste on a happy face was probably why he wasn’t the leader of this town.
His queen, on the other hand, was all smiles when she arrived to face the West City Enforcers. Reese could be damn charming when she wanted to, but it was obvious to Sloan that charm wasn’t going to cut it today. The team of men that marched into the courtyard wouldn’t be appeased by a friendly welcome—they were giving off some serious hostility, which didn’t bode well for the longstanding arrangement between Foxworth and the Enforcers.
For years, the town had reaped the benefits of the alliance. Foxworth offered good booze, a warm bed, and, if the ladies were willing, even warmer women to the Enforcers who spent weeks at a time patrolling West Colony. In exchange, they left Foxworth alone.
The bargained-for alliance had allowed Reese to build Foxworth into the fortified town it now was. The main gate wasn’t the only barricade; there was also one at the back, and each able-bodied man and woman patrolled every small space in between.
“Your color’s high,” Sloan murmured when Reese stepped to the side of the gravel-lined courtyard.
Her flushed cheeks told him that the arrival of the Enforcers had interrupted a seduction. Predictably, one night hadn’t been enough for Rylan. Sloan didn’t blame him. If Sloan could only pack away his guilt and fear, he’d probably need a full week between Reese’s legs just to take the edge off. He’d want to wreck himself on her body, drilling her until they were both unconscious.
“I don’t like this,” she replied, ignoring his observation. “It’s too soon after the raid.”
“You suspected they’d come for you.”
“Being right doesn’t make me feel better.”
Sloan shrugged unsympathetically. “Better get to it. They’re waiting.”
One of the Enforcers had climbed out of the two-truck convoy and was tapping his long gun against the distinctive red stripe along the outer seam of his trousers. Sloan could hardly tell those bastards apart with their buzzed hair and uniforms. They were like toys the council wound up and set off in motion every morning.
Despite her pasted-on smile, Reese finally revealed a hint of her true feelings in the rigid set of her shoulders. Both she and Sloan were well aware that the ten armed soldiers in front of them could kill everyone in the camp if they wanted.
“Is Bethany getting everyone situated?” she asked quietly.