Act of Command: An Immortal Ops World Novel (PSI-Ops / Immortal Ops Book 4) (17 page)

Boomer groaned. “We’re not house cats, dumbass. Do you like to be put on a leash and taken for a walk?”

Striker rubbed his beard and thought about being tied up by a hot woman and then lead around. “Aye. I do.”

“Asshole.”

Striker stepped back. “I left the dart gun in the SUV.”

Boomer shook his head, his gaze never leaving Corbin as the captain killed another guard. “We’re gonna need a bigger dart gun.”

“Aye.”

Corbin tore through another guard as if the man were tissue paper. Striker, Malik and Boomer took large steps back, none wanting to be on the receiving end of their boss’s wrath.

Boomer grunted. “I forgot to mention I set charges.”

Malik and Striker turned very slowly to look at their friend. Malik spoke. “Tell me you went with twenty minutes. Nothing less.”

Boomer pursed his lips. “So you want me to lie?”

“How long do we have?” asked Striker.

Boomer glanced at his watch as a series of large bangs went off. The entire compound shook, and Striker’s ears rang. Flames rushed down the hall in his direction. Groaning, he hit Boomer and knocked the man to the lab floor. Malik turned and Striker wasn’t fast enough to grab him too. The blast hit Malik, knocking him backwards. Flames rolled over everyone and then sucked backwards.

Striker looked up. “Malik?”

“Ouch,” said Malik, indicating he was alive.

“Shit, did Corbin notice us?” asked Boomer from under Striker.

Striker glanced in the other direction slowly to find Corbin, still in partially shifted form, blood dripping from his claws and mouth. He was breathing heavy, his head tipped to the side, looking at the men like they were lunch. “Aye.”

“Shit.”

“Aye.” Striker swallowed hard and put his hands up, still on Boomer. “Captain, you do nae want to eat us. We’re friendlies. And Boomer is full of silver. He’d cause indigestion.”

“Thanks,” said Boomer.

“No problem, but you should know, if he comes for us, I’m throwin’ you to him.”

Boomer chuckled. “I’d rather be eaten alive than stay under you longer. Dude, that had better be a fucking gun in your pocket.”

“Och, it’s a clip. I’ve no hard-on for you, kitty,” snapped Striker, rolling off Boomer slowly, his gaze never leaving the real threat—Corbin. He started to push off the floor, but Corbin roared.

Malik grumbled, rolling to his side. “Captain.”

Corbin roared again.

Striker stayed low. “Alrighty then. I’ll be stayin’ here. Though, I’d like to check on the lass. She looks like she needs help. She’s still alive, Brit. Her heart still beats. She needs assistance, nae this. Nae you behavin’ like a bloody fool.”

Corbin’s brows met and for the briefest of seconds, Striker thought he saw a flicker of his friend in there. That meant there was still hope.

The woman on the floor moved slightly, drawing Corbin’s attention. Fearful that Corbin would hurt her with the bloodlust controlling him, Striker leapt up and rushed to the woman, putting himself in front of her. “You do nae want to hurt her!”

She coughed several times and touched the back of Striker’s leg. “W-what happened? Who are you? Where is Corbin?”

He chanced a glance at the woman. Sure, Corbin was partially shifted, but it was easy enough to tell it was the Brit. Was the female daft?

She squinted up at him. “You’re really hairy.”

“Och, look at him. He’s more so.” He pointed to Corbin. “He’s partially shifted for cryin’ out loud. And before you ask, I’m nae French.”

“French?” She glanced in Corbin’s direction, squinting more. “C-Corbin, is that you? What happened? Why am I on the ground? Ouch, my chest burns. Before you yell, I didn’t touch any more chemicals.”

“Lass, quiet. He’s nae himself. My guess is, he thought you were dead,” said Striker, trying to keep Corbin’s attention off her.

She tugged on Striker’s leg, using it to help her stand. Each time she made contact with Striker, Corbin looked more and more lethal. She stood and swayed. Striker caught her with one arm and held up his other. “Corbin, look. She’s nae dead. See. Safe and sound.”

The woman touched Striker’s chest. “What’s wrong with him? Is he hurt? Ohmygod, did he get shot?”

“Aye, he did, but I do nae think it bothered him much.”

She shrieked. “He’s shot? Corbin?”

Boomer held his hands up, staying near the entrance to the lab. “Striker, I don’t think she can see him.”

“Lass, can you nae see?”

She locked gazes with him. “My glasses are in my cell. Why isn’t he answering me? Corbin?”

Striker kept an arm around her, steadying her, knowing he was tempting fate by making contact with her. She needed his help. Corbin would just have to kill him for it. “Lass, he’s been shot, but in his state of mind he’s nae thinkin’ clearly. He’s worried for you. Nothin’ else.”

She cupped her mouth and squinted in the direction Corbin stood. “Corbin, please. I’m scared. I need to know you’re okay.”

Corbin shook and then bent his head, his upper body heaving. He slumped, and then when he righted himself Striker watched in stunned awe as Corbin managed to pull himself back from the throes of bloodlust. Back from the point of no return. It was a testament to just how powerful the man was.

“Mae?”

She gasped and squeezed Striker’s hand. “Corbin?”

The captain came for her quickly, but Striker shook his head. “Boss, yer hands and face.”

Corbin paused and looked down, his eyes widening at the sight of all the blood and flesh.

Boomer lowered his arms. “There is a sink over there.”

Malik pushed off the floor. “I’m too old for this shit.”

He turned to face Striker and Striker froze. Laughter bubbled up from within and he was unable to hold it in at the sight of one of his best friends with no eyebrows to speak of. “It would appear the flames were nae kind to you, Tut.”

“What?” asked Malik.

Boomer glanced at the man and then looked up at the ceiling, doing his best to keep a straight face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“What did
you
do?” demanded Malik.

Boomer put his hands in his front pockets and whistled, still looking up at the ceiling.

Corbin appeared again, mostly blood free. He reached for Mae and Striker helped to steady her as Corbin pulled her against him. He shook and held her as if she were the single most important thing in all the world to him. He kissed her temple and looked at Striker, mouthing “thank you”.
 

“Aye.”

There was another boom and the building rocked. Striker looked to Boomer. He shook his head. “That wasn’t me.”

There was a commotion and Striker turned to the entrance to the lab and spotted a man he’d not seen in decades. “Ezra?”

At last check Ezra had joined the Shadow Ops, a division of PSI that dealt with undercover and solo operatives. The Ops had a handler, but other than that, they had little to no interactions with PSI-Ops in order to maintain their cover.

Ezra entered, his arms coated in scales that vanished quickly. The man shook his head and puffed out smoke. He glanced around the room. “Mae?”

Malik stepped out of the way, allowing Ezra to see Mae being held against Corbin. Ezra exhaled slowly, looking relieved. He stepped forward, holding out his hand, a pair of glasses in it. “Here.”

“Help!” Mae shouted as Corbin went down hard, his head bouncing off the floor.

Chapter Seventeen

Mae stayed behind Ezra as a bearded man with long red hair followed her, carrying Corbin’s unmoving form through the smoke-filled halls. The man had a plaid strip of cloth tied around his upper arm, and whenever he spoke she had to lean in a touch because his Scottish brogue was so thick. Leaning in didn’t actually help clear it up though. She kept looking behind her to be sure the man hadn’t decided against bringing what was obviously dead weight to him.

Ezra grabbed her hand. “Mae, move faster or I will carry you.”

“But Corbin is bleeding. A lot!”

“Striker has him and he won’t let anything happen to him. Son-of-a-bitch,” exclaimed Ezra, twisting at the last minute and shoving her against the wall, his body covering hers as he shouted for everyone to take cover. Intense heat rolled over her and Ezra’s body hardened to the point she half thought the man had shifted into cement. When she realized her fingers were brushing over hardened scales, she gasped, looking up to see his face was covered in them as well. More importantly, the flames that had licked by them hadn’t harmed him at all.

His tongue flickered out and she yelped as she realized it was now forked. He winked, and right before her eyes, the scales and the forked tongue changed back into the man who had helped her and who was still trying to help her. He grinned. “Dragon shifter.”

She gulped. She hadn’t realized those existed. There was a lot she didn’t know about and she felt as if she’d had a crash course in opening her mind over the past two weeks. It wasn’t that long ago when she’d thought she’d cling to her virginity until she met the right man.

You did meet him
, she thought. Concern gripped her when she didn’t see the man called Striker anywhere. Corbin was gone too.

Another man, this one missing eyebrows, appeared, holding a large weapon. It was the kind of gun military men in the movies held. “We’re good. What was that?”

Ezra shook his head. “Malik, Felix is paranoid. He has fail-safes all over this place. The last thing he wants is his buyer’s information falling into a rival companies’ hands. My guess is, this entire place is rigged to blow.”

A man with long, ink-black hair and eyes that screamed feline came out of a recessed area of the hall. His right arm was charred slightly and he wiped the blackened area away, the skin looking unharmed. Mae couldn’t help but stare at his odd attire. He looked more like he was about to attend a Goth rave than take part in a rescue operation. His tongue darted out and over a lip ring. “I’m Boomer. Nice to meet you, miss.”

Mae held Ezra’s arms tight, still no sight of Corbin anywhere. Had he been hurt more in the blast? “Corbin and the loud guy? Striker or something?”

Boomer laughed. “Yep. That would be Striker. Hold on.”

He moved to a door near him and kicked it, knocking it open. The redhead came out, still holding Corbin like a sack of potatoes, as the man gave the Goth a hard look. “Och, you dinnae have to throw me into a closet, kitty.”

“Didn’t have to, but it was damn fun,” returned Boomer, flashing a wide smile. He pointed to Corbin, his gaze on Mae. “Still out cold, but he’s not burnt to a crisp so it’s a win.”

She glanced at the men. “You’re all very odd.”

Ezra chortled. “No. Mostly they’re just assholes, but they’re assholes who love your mate like a brother.”

She tensed at the mention of mate, before reaching a hand out in Corbin’s direction. The need to make contact with him outweighed her reservations about being called his mate. “He’s bleeding. A lot.”

Strike’s jaw set. “Aye.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Malik, the man with no eyebrows, moved closer to her. “Mae, the faster we get him to help, the greater his chances of healing this damage are. Do you understand?”

“Less talk, more walk?” she questioned.

He offered a warm smile and she realized that even without eyebrows, he was handsome. He reminded her of a warrior from a movie she’d watched about an evil mummy coming back from the dead.

She paused. “He said they gave him something that was slowing his healing.”

“Dammit. She’s right. Their newest sedative has a mix of several drugs in it. A side effect to some can be decreased healing. Others it increases the ability.” Ezra took her hand in his. “We need to move now.”

“Caesar isn’t coming, is he?” Deep down she knew something bad had happened to him. She couldn’t help but mourn him.

“No. He’s not.”

“Brad?”

Ezra pulled her along, forcing her to move. “I let him out of his cell. And I tasked him with protecting someone. I don’t know if they made it out. I can only hope they did.”

He was hiding something, she was sure of it, but Corbin needed medical attention so she didn’t push. Within minutes they were free from the building and moving in the direction of a set of SUVs. Ezra held Mae’s hand out to Malik. “Get her to safety. I’ll come after I search for signs of Brad and, well, yes, Brad.”

Malik didn’t give Mae a choice. He lifted her and loaded her into the backseat of one of the SUVs. He tossed a set of keys at Ezra. “Here. Take the other. Meet us back at headquarters. We’re driving straight through.”

Ezra stopped. “I have a safe house near here.”

Malik gazed uncomfortably in at her and then went to shut the door to speak more with Ezra. Mae put her foot out, blocking the door. She leaned. “He doesn’t want me to hear what bad shape Corbin is in. He thinks we need to go straight to where Corbin can get more medical attention. I’ll do it. I’ll go wherever is best for Corbin. You’ll find Brad. Right?”

Ezra nodded, something off in his eyes. “I will. Be well, Mae.”

Boomer took the driver’s seat and Striker loaded Corbin into the back of the SUV and made a move to climb into the area next to him. The spot was hardly adequate for Corbin’s mass, let alone Striker’s too. Mae yanked on her dress, moved some, and flipped the release to lay her portion of the second row bench down, allowing Striker to lie Corbin out more. Mae climbed over Corbin, careful not to touch him. She motioned to the other seat. “Take it.”

Striker moved around the vehicle and took the seat she left for him. Malik sat in the passenger seat. He looked to Striker. “How is he?”

“Brit has lost a lot of blood and I do nae know how close to his heart he was hit. I couldnae count all the shots. They’re too many and there is too much blood.”

Mae ripped at the bottom of her dress and used pieces of it to press to Corbin’s bloodiest spots. She didn’t cry at first as they drove. Each time they hit a bump, Corbin hissed in his sleep, and before long she found herself humming lightly next to him, trying to stop his bleeding, her heart breaking for him. He’d finally come into her life and the idea of him being ripped away was so cruel she couldn’t think more on it.