Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3) (5 page)

That he loved her wasn’t in question, but she was awfully close to a vampire while she was antagonizing him. With anyone else, her life would be in danger. A little niggling fear in the back of her mind told her it could be with him too. “There’s something about this you don’t like.” She frowned, her words becoming more of a think aloud brainstorming session than Q & A. “You disagree with him, that’s why he’s doing this to you.” Seeing his intent to disregard her observation, she shook her head. “Come on, I see you naked. I see the scars before they’ve had a chance to fade. I see how much you drink when you get back from those trips.” Her voice gentled. “What’s going on? Can’t you at least give me a hint so I can help you?” Her fingers traced the newest “reminder” of who was boss, already silvering under his last rib. She was guessing a blade, one of Black’s specially made weapons with just enough silver to be torture without killing and guaranteed to leave a scar even on a vampire’s flesh. The bastard could make a point, that was for sure.

A touch of blood ran down his chin where a fang pierced his lower lip. “You know that’s not how it works, Becca.”

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Becca sat up abruptly, fighting the lightheaded feeling that went with it. “He want
s
m
e
for something and you’re fighting him on it.” His practiced blank expression spoke when he didn’t.

“Michael, no! There’s nothing he wants me to do that’s worth the kind of damage you’re taking.” It physically pained her to think what he’d taken as punishment for arguing with Black. For her. “It’s not like he’s going to get me killed; he added me to the unit for a reason. What does he want me to do, hop into some senator’s head while they’re behind closed doors? Listen in on a Joint Chiefs meeting? See if I can get some sort of vision to see if we’re all going to die next week?” She softened her voice. “No problem. I can do it, hell I can do that in my sleep. We should just tell him I can. Why did you want me to keep it a secret anyway?”

Michael remained motionless, propped on an elbow and curved around for a body no longer cradled against him. The blood on his chin thickened, dripping onto the dark pillowcase. “You know I can’t tell you if he’s specifically told me I can’t,” he whispered harshly. “Keep your voice down or the whole house will hear.” The extent of Admiral Black’s hold on Michael was a very closely guarded secret only Becca was privy to.

Frustrated she couldn’t argue because he was right, furious at her body for its growing weakness, Becca turned away from him in a huff. Pointedly yanking her discarded clothes off the floor, she shoved her limbs into them. Whirling, she tore her iPod from the top of the dresser and stalked from her room, stopping just shy of slamming the door behind her. “I’m going for a run.
”
If I don’t pass out on the wa
y
, she thought with a giggle creeping way too close to hysteria.

Chapter 3

The brief summer bloom of desert flora and fauna would normally have given her an extra boost. Normally she could last through all of her favorite spinner’s mix before she ran out of steam. Except she wasn’t back to “normally.” Before the end of the second track she was winded, and through all of her reserves before it was half done. What would her unit think if they knew what kind of shape she was in? If she couldn’t get herself back into condition soon she would become a liability in the field, and that opened a whole other can of worms: What would Admiral Black think when he found out she was weak as a newborn calf? Would it be enough that she could do as he asked if she had to be carried along? Would he demand she continue to drink from Michael to stay strong? She wasn’t eager to find out the ramifications of that option. Would he ask her to change, to be like them? Would he ask Michael to do the unthinkable? Was death at her lover’s hands her fate? At last, fatigue made it impossible to think and her mind went blissfully blank except for the immediate demands of the uneven terrain. When finally she walked out of the Southern California desert to set foot on the stone steps of their out of place English manor house, she was wringing wet and ready to drop.

Dragging herself to the kitchen to find something to drink, Becca had propped herself against the edge of the big farmhouse sink, greedily gulping water when she heard footsteps on stone.

“Eh, you stink.”

Becca lowered the glass and wiped her hand across her chin, taking care to hide the way it shook. “Thanks, Gabrielle.” She turned to see the gorgeous blonde glide into the room. How did she get simple fatigues and a tshirt to look like that? Becca remained convinced the woman had hers tailored.

“I’m surprised. A few days off, I thought you’d be holed up somewhere far away.” She leaned against the long wooden table across the room. Almond shaped amber eyes raked her up and down and a corner of her mouth pulled up. “Wearing a lot less clothes.”

“Are you asking me to leave, Gabrielle?” Ignoring the woman’s jabs when she was in a mood was the best policy and Becca wasn’t feeling it at the moment.

She took a breath to comment and, judging from the twist of her features, it wasn’t going to be a nice one when someone else beat her to it.

“Not asking you to leave, Bec, but I’m with Gabs on this one. Can’t you tone it down so the rest of us don’t have to listen to your monkey love for a little while?” Ryan breezed through wearing the black pants of his uniform minus the shirt and shoes.

Becca was temporarily rendered speechless as the over six foot, broad shouldered Marine strode through the room, tanned skin sliding easily over powerful muscles. Tipping his head her way, he shook his shaggy auburn hair from his face so she could see the playful smile and wink. The mischievous sparkle to his green eyes told her he was kidding. Trust Ryan to diffuse a situation before it even had a chance to become one.

Gabrielle, intimately acquainted with the big man’s physique was less impressed. “Actually, I was hoping yo
u
woul
d
leave for a while,” she sneered. “Some of us would like a different soundtrack when we’re trying to sleep.”

Then, surprising both of them, Ryan whirled on Gabrielle. “Why don’t you follow your own advice and ‘get some headphones’ if it bothers you?” Ryan mimicked the sneer that must have gone with the comment when originally made. Becca was not overly happy to have been discussed when she wasn’t present, especially since it obviously wasn’t very flattering.

Gabrielle jerked her head back as if she’d been slapped, taking a sharp breath through her nose. “Fuck you, Ryan.”

“Real eloquent, Gabs,” Ryan shot back.

The normally sharp tongued blonde, instead of firing off a cutting remark, spun on a booted heel and stalked from the room.

Becca’s gaze shifted to Ryan, surprised when the grin slid from his face, no satisfaction at his victory evident in his instantly gloomy expression.

“I guess I don’t need to ask how things are going.”

He lifted his head, managing a ghost of a smile. “Yeah, I guess that was pretty sad, huh?”

She smiled back at him. “Not sad, just maybe a little subpar in the old bantering department.”

He laughed, halfhearted.

“I wish there was something I could do,” she started and he waved her off.

“I don’t need anybody’s pity.” He straightened his spine and the room felt smaller. “I’m not the first guy to get dumped and I won’t be the last.”

“I know,” Becca shrugged. “But I hate to see you hurting.” She put a hand on his arm. “Have you tried talking to her?”

“Have yo
u
me
t
Gabrielle?”

Becca snorted, setting off a chain reaction. Both were laughing, Ryan holding his side when Michael walked in.

“What’s going on in here?” Bright blue eyes scanned the scene, ever vigilant.

“Oh, hey, Michael,” Becca sniffed, wiping at her eyes. “What’s up?”

His lips mimicked the curve of hers, her joy carrying over to him. “I heard you two and wondered what was so funny.”

There was a heartbeat of hesitation, then Ryan guffawed. “Love, Mikey. That’s the joke.”

Becca sobered somewhat at the pain underlying Ryan’s joking words. “Come on, Ryan, it’ll turn out, don’t lose faith.”

“Oh it’ll turn out, all right.” His words turned bitter. “Exactly the way Gabs wants it to.” Then, as if the hopelessness in his own tone snapped him out of his mood, he shook himself and his usual grin returned. “What are we doing moping around when we’ve got all this unstructured time on our hands? Who wants to get out of here?”

Michael looked askance at Becca, catching her shoulder raise and head tip. She was in. The warmth in his smile took her breath away and Ryan groaned.

“Christ, you’re a sap, Sauter.” He gave her shoulder a light shove.

A light shove to Ryan Hallbeck was a lot to absorb under normal circumstances. With her weakened muscles, further strained from the punishment she’d just put them through, the outcome was rather predictable had either one of them given it any thought. Seconds after he touched her she found herself sprawled on the floor, palms and knees stinging from scraping across the cool stone. She knew without looking that her favorite running pants were ruined.

A snarl in her ears followed by a huge crash pulled her attention back to the men on either side of her in a beat. For a second she thought for some reason the smell of blood had Ryan close to changing, but a glance up told her it was worse. Much worse.

Ryan was pinned, his back to the huge fireplace at the far side of where the table used to be. What remained of the sturdy wooden table littered the floor. It looked like Michael and Ryan had gone mostl
y
throug
h
the huge piece of furniture, though Becca could tell from the fact that her boyfriend was still moving, he didn’t have so much as a splinter. Had the wood pierced him he would have dropped, frozen, to the ground. It was harder to tell with Ryan since wood didn’t affect him the same way, plus a very pissed off vampire was currently obstructing her view.

“What were you thinking?” Michael ground out between clenched teeth. His whole body radiated ferocity; he was like a wild animal. Becca had never seen him so angry.

No longer happy go lucky Ryan, the huge man glowered back, undaunted. “Get the hell off me, Mike. I barely touched her.”

“Look at you.” Michael grasped the bicep in front of his face. “Now look at her.” Both fierce sets of eyes turned her way and Becca felt the urge to flee. “She’s human, they’re fragile.” As soon as he said the last, a look crossed his face and Michael’s head gave a barely perceptible shake. “She could have cracked her skull, you could have killed her.” The thought of her dead seemed to bring all of his rage flooding back and Becca stared at the glistening fangs, a thin trail of his own blood showed pink. His mouth was already healed after the emergence of his large canines though traces of the damage they caused remained. 

“Michael, please,” Becca tried to reason with him. She couldn’t let her friend suffer because of her inadequacy. “It’s not his fault, I wasn’t ready for it. He didn’t even push me that hard. It’s no big deal, I’m fine.” She tried to push herself up, to put herself between the two and keep them from tearing each other apart, but her body wouldn’t listen. Weak arms buckled under her weight and she narrowly avoided losing a tooth on the hard floor. Ryan frowned at her, clearly confused at her state.

“Jesus, Becca,” Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t really hurt you, did I?”

Michael turned to Becca. “That’s not the point, love.” Not forgetting his large adversary, Michael answered over his shoulder. “We’ve been who we are a long time. We know how to dial it back for them.”