Hide little Ghost! he screamed.
Hide now!
Thick paint flaked from under my fingers. The edges sharp, slicing open my finger, and bright blood welled. The sting was instant. I winced and wrenched my hand against my chest, leaving the nightmare behind.
Fear pushed through, driving the hunger deeper. I stepped back from the open doorway and the floorboards moaned.
Leave. Find more berries, more roots. Warm water can fill me.
I can survive.
The tiny mewl came from within and the scent of blood hit me like a roar.
“Come on. I know you’re hungry.”
I flinched with the deep rumble. A man’s voice. A hunter’s voice.
“Come on…just a little closer.”
Red glistened as it slid into the light from a cracked window. The slab was red, fresh…brimming with warmth…and life. My cheeks stuck to my jaw. Belly loosened, making me tremble. Making me need.
“That’s the way.”
My feet slipped, skimming the entrance as I stepped inside, drops of blood fell from an outstretched hand to splatter against the floor. “That’s the way.”
Overturned tables hugged the wall. Metal. Only this time they shone. Glass crunched under my feet. Agony cut, stealing my focus.
The sting came again, this time in my thigh. Metal prodded, like a claw through my clothes. I swung my hand, fingers skimmed the…metal. The room darkened, swimming before it sharpened.
Another bite. This time in my chest. I looked down as the floorboards moaned. The claw was sharp, pointed at one end, red seeped through my shirt.
“Beautiful…you are a pretty little beast, aren’t you?”
Shadows moved, swallowing me as my knee buckled. Hands reached for me, gripping my arms as he moved close. Hard eyes filled my world. He was the danger…and the same sick stench carried me back to all those years ago, to the night they invaded—the night they slaughtered…for they were…
Human.
3
Ace
The black Escalade throbbed as it idled outside Major General Newman Slater’s family home.
I’d been here before, many times. Every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year. Any holiday where family was concerned for the last five years.
My brother’s family, always trying to make up for the fact that I had none.
I’d lingered in the corners, smiled, and raised my glass whenever Alpha looked at me.
He wanted me here…needed me here.
It’d never been out of pity or duty. Only out of love, born from the bond we shared—one I’d searched for my entire life. Brother. Family. We might’ve once worn the green, but this was deeper than any color, and stronger than any creed. When our backs were against the wall we wore red for each other—we sacrificed, we shared…we protected.
I leaned forward as the headlights shone inside the open garage door. “You want me to go in first?”
Alpha flinched and stared straight ahead, and in that moment we were back there. In the goddamn stifling dust-choked air, staring down at an uncleared Iraqi home hoping for the best—but expecting the worst.
I swallowed hard. No one tells you about the smell in Afghanistan, or the rubbish and flies, or the lost souls. The ones left behind…ones who carried mortar or the dead.
“No,” he finally answered and leaned forward. “I’ve got this.”
I reached for the handle and stepped out at the same time. Reflexes took over. Flesh met metal. The patterned grip so familiar, almost as though I’d lived my entire life with a weapon in my hand. I bore down with my thumb, releasing the catch, and drew my Sig Sauer free.
The driver’s door opened and closed behind me as I aimed for the shadows in the corner. Alpha moved slow, keeping in time with my steps…or were mine in time with his? He turned his head, raised his fist, two fingers swept forward. I moved past him through the open door leading into the house, cutting through the dining room and kitchen before I moved through the rest of the house and snapped. “Clear.”
My response fell flat, neither Alpha nor Gunny moved from the hallway, only stared at the study’s open door. I swallowed hard as my brother stepped up to the doorway and reached for the light.
The red glow reminded me of the seedy rooms I escaped from. The ones filled with hookers and peddlers, with glory holes in the walls and lost children outside. I bit my lip and fought the need to reach for the nape of my neck.
I’d heard Alpha’s words…heard what that bitch had done.
But to hear something, and to see something, was a different beast all together.
There was no body. No limbs and no bones…not even a strand of perfect chestnut brown hair.
Only a sea of crimson.
Alpha sagged against the wall and stared at the splattered desk. A tortured sound escaped, half a whimper, half a gurgle. X moved close, sliding up behind him. She didn’t touch, didn’t console, only pressed her body against his in an act of strength.
His hard jaw flexed as he turned his head, spearing me with a look of terror. “This is what she left me. Tell me brother, what the Hell do I bury here?”
My throat tightened. I swallowed, fighting down the lump.
Margaret was a good woman, an honest woman. She’d come from solid kin. People who stood up for those in need. She fed the homeless, and funded a group home for wayward girls. She loved her family—her husband and his sister—with the kind of ferocity you wouldn’t expect from someone so small.
After the death of Alpha’s father, she became his mother's backbone, and an integral part of Alpha’s world.
But for me, she was a welcome smile and a warm hug—the closest thing this dirty street-rat had to a mother. An ache speared through my chest…and for the first time in a long time the desire to have what I didn’t own reared its ugly head.
I didn’t crave money, or a fancy house. Had no need for sleek cars, or shiny black credit cards—it was honesty. It was raw, unbridled love of someone who shared your thoughts, your dreams, your name, and your blood. I just wanted someone—X lowered her head against Alpha’s shoulder as I answered—someone who wanted me. “We don’t bury anything. This doesn’t happen…not yet.”
The heavy echo of my heart filled the space.
There was no sound. No whisper.
Until Alpha turned his head. Rage flared in my brother’s eyes. Rage so hot I felt the burn as I growled. “Until the last enemy.”
“Until the last breath,” Gunny growled.
The words stuck in Alpha’s throat, wounded and raw. “And the last fight.”
I nodded and stared at the blood-splattered room. There was no end here…no resolution—no cold fucking comfort for those left behind. There was nothing but an empty room. One to match my empty heart. “We do what he trained us to do. We find the enemy. We shoot to kill.”
Alpha gave a slow nod.