Project Terminal: End Game (5 page)

She leaned against a tree, studying a cluster of boulders which had been part of a landslide or avalanche at some point in the past. She frowned, squinting at a slight shift of shadows next to the largest. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she walked forward, trying to get a better look.
Wildlife wouldn’t hide behind a rock.
It’d bolt up the mountain’s slope, or make itself know with a threat display like a grizzly would. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and she hid behind a tree trunk, squatting down, keeping as much out of view as possible.

Then she saw the dark figure of a man stepping out. Though a quarter of a mile away, she easily made out the big form. Not a hiker...he had a holster on his hip and he moved with stealth.

“Damn.” Amelia hissed through her teeth, reaching a hand to her knife then her M9 pistol.

The rock strewn ground made it impossible to take her shoes off, not after yesterday’s injury. She needed to circle around and follow the intruder, find out his motivations. The project had sent him, no doubt the same person Gonsalves had spotted—Carlton. She’d be on her own in taking him down, the men wouldn’t work this way for a while. They’d believe anyone from the project would take a more direct and easier route.

She moved slowly, staying low and within the darkest shadows, moving opposite Carlton’s direction. A squirrel chattered above her and she froze. Carlton turned, staring her direction.

Chapter 8

Pop. Pop. Pop.
Gabe whirled toward the sound of gunfire. It took a moment to zero in on its direction, recognizing the sound of an M11, standard issue for Navy SEALs. Another round of gunfire brought him up short and his heart dropped. An M9. The only person in their group to carry one was Amelia. The M11 fired back, one shot, and all fell silent.

“Fuck.” He bolted toward the sound, heedless of the noise he made, desperate to find Amelia.

A hand closed around his arm and on reflex he took a swing toward its owner. Reed deflected the punch.

“What are you doing?” Reed asked.

“I’m going after Amelia.”

Reed blocked his path. “You’re going half-cocked, and it’s a good way to get killed, Morris. You know the danger we’re up against.”

“Amelia could be injured.” He shoved by Reed.

“One shot, Morris, you know what that means,” Reed called after him.

Gabe set his jaw, refusing to hear the truth. One shot, a clean shot.
A kill shot.
He charged forward. Reed disappeared, off on his own agenda. They needed to coordinate, but panic drove Gabe faster. He kept his eyes sharp, focused, his gaze constantly sweeping through the trees. Then he saw Amelia, hunched over, her hand on her side, running. She looked over her shoulder and he saw she’d lost the color in her face. She halted.

“I’m out of practice,” she said when he stopped at her side.

“Oh God, you’re bleeding.” He pried at her fingers, trying to get a better view of the wound.

“Forget about me, Carlton has my knife in him. He took off in that direction.” She nodded ahead.

“We need to get you back to the cabin, have Max look at this.” A dark stain had spread over her olive colored shirt.

“Damn it, Morris, it’s nothing—a through shot. Let’s go. He had to have left a blood trail.”

She marched ahead, still clutching her side. He grasped her shoulder, forcing her to stop. Overhead clouds collected, shutting out the sunlight. The threat of rain loomed, which would wash away the trail.

“Wait, we need to let Reed and Gonsalves in on this. I’m sure they’ll catch up any moment.”

Her chin jutted and she glared at him. He yanked off his shirt, balled it up and stuffed it over the wound.

“You need to have this looked at.” The coppery odor of blood clung to her.

“We’ve been engineered to take bullets, Morris.”

“Engineered or not, you still might bleed to death.”

“I’m on my feet, if it was that bad I’d be down.”

He couldn’t argue with her logic, but the sight of her shot left him messed up. He knew her to be a capable soldier but the overwhelming need to protect trumped common sense.

“Let me take lead at least.”

Reed appeared and he zeroed in on Amelia’s wound. “St. James, go get checked out by Max.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m fine. Carlton’s probably long gone now thanks to all this BS over me.”

“The blood trail will be easy to pick up,” Gabe reasoned. “And so will yours if Carlton goes on the offensive.”

The rain started, threatening to wash away the blood trail they counted on.

“Go back to the cabin,” Reed commanded. “Gonsalves is with the women. He needs someone else there, and your injury is a liability.”

* * * *

Amelia hated she couldn’t argue with his rationality. The bullet hole burned, like a hot poker had been shoved into her side. When Carlton had fired, she’d taken cover, firing back. He’d moved in when she went down, feigning a worse injury than what she had. When he’d gotten close enough he’d aimed and she’d thrown her knife, catching him in the inner thigh just as he’d pulled the trigger. That’s when she’d taken the bullet. Blood had spurted from his wound; she’d aimed for the major artery leading up to his groin. He couldn’t get far before he’d have to tend to it.

She pushed Morris’s t-shirt harder against the gunshot as she marched back toward the cabin. Defeat tasted bitter, like bile on the back of her tongue. Cold rain fell, soaking her to the skin by the time she got back.

Max saw her first when she walked through the door. “Amelia.” She ran to her. “What happened? We heard the gunshots.”

Gonsalves joined the two of them, and Laura sat up in bed, looking horrified.

“Oh God, look at all the blood,” she said, turning white as a sheet.

“Carlton’s out there.” Amelia hoped Laura didn’t hurl. The last thing she needed to smell was vomit when she felt close to doing just that. “But Reed and Morris are on his trail. With the rain it’ll make it difficult. Patch me up. I need to get back and help them.”

“No,” Gonsalves cut in. “I’ll do it. You stay here in case Carlton comes this way.”

He was out the door and gone before Amelia could argue. She wanted to punch him, Reed, and Morris for making her feel weak, and planned on doing just that when they returned.

Max assessed the wound. “It’s a through shot, and looks like it didn’t hit anything vital. Come over here and have a seat. I’ll clean this out and get you bandaged up.”

Amelia hated feeling useless. She wanted to be out hunting with the men instead of sitting inside the cabin with no idea of what went on. Morris could get hurt, or worse. She shuddered and Max placed a hand on her forehead.

“You don’t feel feverish.” She held a finger before Amelia. “Follow my finger.”

Seeming satisfied, she gave Amelia a soft smile. “I wish I had something more than aspirin for pain. I’d offer you Laura’s pain meds, but you need to keep your wits about you.”

Already the burning had subsided to a mild tingling. She’d never been shot before and hoped to never have the experience again. Max disinfected the area and used butterfly bandages to close the hole. Amelia had refused stitches, which would take too much time, and with her rapid healing the wound should quickly seal itself shut.

“I had to sew Damian up when he got shot. Never been so scared in all my life,” Laura said. “I have never been so sick either. I hate blood and needles.”

Max smiled. “Seems you two had quite the adventure together.”

Laura blushed. “That we did, one I wish would come to an end. All this madness that is, not being with him. Though he tests my patience with his hovering.”

Max chuckled and Laura had a wistful look on her face. Amelia tried to imagine how horrific it’d be to sew up Morris. Not that she had the same feelings for him that Laura had for Gonsalves. Definitely
not
the same feelings.

She glanced at the wall clock, worrying over what was going on in the woods without her. Rain beat on the roof. Amelia missed her knife, but she still had her M9 ready. If Carlton showed up he’d have to get through her, and his odds weren’t good even with her injury.

“How close are you with finishing your work?” she asked Max.

“Give me another day and I’ll have all I need. I’ll take this to some higher-ups I know in office. We’ll get it to the people who are showing symptoms then use a vaccine to inoculate others.”

Amelia moved her attention back to the open front door, watching the rain come down. Uneasy, instincts piqued, she expected Carlton to bust through the door any second. Instead, sometime later the men returned minus Morris. Her heart lurched into her throat.

“He’s taking another circle,” Reed said before she could ask.

“No sign of Carlton,” Gonsalves added. “Chances are he’s holed up somewhere nursing his wound.”

Amelia forced her face to remain impassive. “I’m going back out there, Morris needs another set of eyes.”

The others didn’t argue, not that their objections would’ve mattered, and she strode outside. The rain had let up, the sun trying to break through the overcast. The men’s trail was easy to pick up and she backtracked.

“Amelia? Are you okay?”

Morris’s voice startled her and she whirled. “Yeah, I told you it wasn’t serious.”

He grinned, though it didn’t meet his eyes. Still bare chested, he had the perfect amount of dark hair sprinkled over his pecs. Just enough to make him look masculine and virile. Mud was smeared over his rippled abs and arms. He cocked his head and she realized she was staring.

“Why are you out here?” His voice lowered, sending shivers over her skin.

“I-I’m going to help.” She licked her dry lips. “Keep watch, a second set of eyes. Don’t tell me to leave, because I won’t.” She crossed her arms over her chest to emphasize her statement.

“I wouldn’t dream of asking you to leave, Amelia.”

Why did he have to use that damned pitch of voice? She sucked in a deep, fortifying breath. “Right, so why don’t we head in opposite directions and meet on the other side?”

He walked up to her, catching her gaze. She felt trapped, her feet refusing to move.

“I have a better idea, actually.” His hand came up and cupped her cheek. “You cheated me, St. James.”

His touch sent her senses spinning, and her muddled brain had to work over the statement. “How?”

“I’ve spent years imagining how it’d be with you, and five minutes made it a cheap experience.”

Before she could reply, his lips were on hers. She responded eagerly, hungrily, pressing against him, sucking his tongue between her teeth. He groaned, placing a hand on her lower back, pressing her close. Careful to avoid her injury. She melted against him, ignoring common sense in favor of her hormones.

“You won’t rob me of enjoying every inch of your body. Not this time, darlin’.”

Chapter 9

His cock throbbed. Gabe lifted Amelia’s shirt carefully over her head. Her bandaged side sent a hot streak of anger through him—he’d castrate Carlton for this.

“Gabe,” she whispered, her voice husky in arousal, drawing his attention back. Gasoline to his libido, his head swam as his brain shut down, needing the blood supply for more important tasks.

He lowered his head, nuzzling between her high, firm breasts, concealed by a wisp of a cotton bra. Her nipples jutted against the thin fabric, too enticing to resist. He took one between his lips and she gasped, clawing through his hair. He grasped her ass, pulling her tight to his hips, rubbing his hard-on against her pelvis.

He suckled her nipple harder before pulling back, needing to regain some control. Amelia’s hands roamed down his chest, and lower, over his abs. Then they dropped to the catch on his pants, and he swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, brushing her palm over the bulge beneath his fly.

He blew out a pent-up breath. “Whatever you want, darlin’. I’m yours wholly and completely.”

The catch gave way, before his zipper slid down. When she took him in hand his knees nearly buckled. God help him keep his load when everything he’d wanted for the past few years was his to take.

She lowered down, and he opened his eyes, gazing at the top of her head, the strands of her hair a mix of dark reds, gold, and browns. Pure silk that he dug his fingers within. Her lips closed over his tip, her tongue circling, drawing ragged gasps from his throat. She couldn’t take him further than mid-shaft, but fuck if it wasn’t the best blow-job he’d ever had. He braced his feet wider, allowing her greater advantage. His head fell back and he focused on the sky, forcing his breathing into control as his balls grew tight.

He pulled back from her mouth. “Okay, that’s it or the show’s over for me.”

She looked up through her lashes, cheeks flushed a dark pink. A sweet look of expectation and trust that had him imagining all sorts of things he shouldn’t. Not with Amelia, she could barely stand him. Admittedly, a relationship with a woman like her wouldn’t be completely out of the question for him. They shared a lot after going through Project Terminal, a tie linking them in a way no other woman could match. And he’d tired of the bachelor’s road. An empty house to go home to after work. No warm body to curl up with at night.

He shoved the errant thoughts aside. “Get naked for me, Amelia.”

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and for a moment he feared she’d back out. Leave him alone with a raging hard-on and unrequited lust.

“I think you should go first.” She sat back, bracing her hands behind her, crossing her feet at the ankles, her lips curled into a devilish smile.

He kicked out of his boots and socks then shoved his pants down, all in a matter of seconds. Long past caring about appearing too eager. Her gaze drifted down him all the way to his toes and back up again. A thorough perusal before she met his eyes. He admired her still clothed body. He’d seen her naked before, knew that she kept her bush trimmed but didn’t shave clean, like most women did these days. At least that’s how it used to look.

“Now play a little for me.” Her eyes glittered in the sunlight that had cut through the clouds.