Sometimes she dreamed of Cole. Sometimes she dreamed of the winged warrior her mother saw in her glowing with the internal light just as she did in the vision Margo fed her through the empath connection. Then sometimes Meg dreamed of her avenging angel, Creed, but she told no one of those dreams. Those were private. It’s amazing how clearly she could think now that she was rested, hydrated and fed. And having Cole by her side, smiling at her the way he was just then, made her almost forget the monster hunting them. Almost.
“Okay, let’s race,” Meg grinned, “first one to the barn wins.”
“You’re on! Ready, set, go!” Cole bolted down the gravel path making it look like he’d been holding way back to keep pace with her.
Oh, hell no! she thought and pushed herself to hold right at his heels, laughing.
The pair sprinted side by side for a while before he pulled ahead with a burst of strength. She pushed herself harder and kept up out of sheer stubbornness. Meg loved the feel of the wind against her face, pulling her hair back and making her eyes water. She loved the tugs she felt in her muscles as she pumped her arms and legs harder. This was sheer joy! By the time the pair leaned out to touch the barn door Meg was smiling so widely her teeth were windblown dry and her cheeks hurt, but she didn’t care. Cole and Meg slapped the door at the same moment, breathing hard and laughing at each other as they leaned over to catch their breath.
Cole’s green eyes were laughing beautifully when his body spun in a strange dance before he hit the floor unmoving.
Meg stared in confused horror as she watched his eyes flutter closed even as she flew to the gravel at his side. On her knees, leaning over screaming at Cole, she was oblivious of the pain of gravel digging into her skin when she felt herself hit. The last thought she remembered having before she was flung across Cole’s body was, Oh God, please take care of my family.
Chapter 31 Let the Bodies Hit the Floor
“Sir, everyone has been tranq’ed, including the coyote. The area is secured,” Slider nodded to the bodies lying on the floor of the living room. The furniture had been shoved to the walls to give everyone enough room. Creed pursed his lips together making a tight line. Gavil risked a glance at his brother, silently willing him to stay strong and stick to the plan. At least he was doing well not to stare at the body of the girl. Gavil knew it must be killing him to see her sprawled on the ground, vulnerable.
He forced himself to stop seeing images of her lying on the ground smiling up at him as he ran his fingers through her red hair. His chest tightened painfully at the memory.
“Let’s see who we have here,” Gavil’s voice remained steady, though his emotions were fighting around the spasms of his bleeding heart.
Lacing his fingers behind his back he paced the floor. “These three have the identifying infinite symbol branded into them—they’re the stolen assets. They come with us,” he nodded toward Meg, Alik and Evan all of which had been laid beside one another at the far end of the room.
He continued, “This is Farrow Schone—she was the Director’s personal assistant. She even has the ink in her arm M440. Who the hell knows what she’s doing here. I’ll let the Director decide what to do with her; she comes, too.”
“This guy is huge. He looks like a meta, but he has no markings. I’m betting he has something in him. We may as well bring him,” Gavil motioned to Cole’s body.
“These two,” Gavil stopped walking and looked down at the bodies of Margo and Theo. “The female is the thief, Margo Winter. The guy must be her boyfriend; poor sucker.”
“Slider, how long will they be out?” Gavil asked his second-in-command. He was one of only six who survived the battle on the island against this group. “The tranqs should work for at least an hour on the metas, the humans will be out for at least six.”
Gavil nodded, thinking. Around the room stood fifteen trigger happy soldiers, not including himself or his brother. This was not going to be easy, but it had to be done.
“You six, I need a word with you outside. You good, Young?” Gavil called to his brother, sharp eyes aware of the pistols in his belt.
“Good,” Creed glanced at his brother and in that moment, they sealed their fate—depending on each other to follow through with what was feeling more and more like a half-assed plan.
The moment the door shut behind Gavil, Creed started counting down from ten, his keen eyes monitoring every movement of the soldiers in the room with him. 9, 8, 7…
He knew which of them were the most dangerous and the element of surprise would only give him an advantage for a second or two before they returned fire. 6, 5, 4…
Creed moved as far from the innocent bodies as he could, anxious they would be caught in the crossfire. 3, 2…