Alpha Warriors of The Cause - Tamara Rose Blodgett Page 0,12

could resist our gaze once captured in it.”

“I don't have that benefit, Gunnar.” Slade sweeps a hand over his altered form. “I will have to consume food as they do.” Slade can't keep the abhorrent tone out of his voice.

Humanoid food tastes terrible. Only blood is truly satisfying. At least sunlight doesn't rule the Bloodlings. Slade can thank the ancient Blood Singers heritage for that at least. The inhabitants of the planet his long-ago ancestors called home would have called the Bloodlings a daywalking vampire.

But Slade has no desire to pay a visit to Seven. He is on Ten for one thing and one thing only.

Beth.

Unfortunately, his uninvited partner will see him dead if he discovers what Slade has planned for Beth.

Dimitri made good on his part of the bargain, having delivered half of the Bloodling females.

They were abused but technically alive.

Slade's body tenses, his hands closing into fists. A throbbing vein in his temple pulses with the memory of the females’ treatment.

Now he must return with Beth to fulfill a bargain he struck in desperation.

Slade finds no good ending to any of this, no matter how many different ways he turns it over inside his mind.

Only after the tiny frog's return, will the remaining female Bloodlings be restored.

If it's the right thing for so many, why do I feel bereft at the thought of giving Beth over to the slaver?

CHAPTER SIX

Beth

Beth lets out a fairly decent belch and covers her mouth belatedly.

“Excuse me,” she says delicately.

Jacky bursts out laughing, pointing the tines of his fork at her. “Nice.”

Beth smiles. It's good to have some levity for once.

She ate practically her own weight in food. Beth's made ten trips in all to the food re-hydrator.

The re-hydrator had been her only concession to truly modern living, and she was never more thankful that she’d made it.

They'd been starving and so filthy, she couldn't stand her own smell.

Fortunately, they all smell the same.

Beth jumps up, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of the ruined uniform they found for her on One. “Cleansing,” she announces decisively.

Maddie's face screws up. “I've been bathing at a nearby lake.”

“For five years?” Beth asks, resting her foot against the wall.

She gives a grim nod. “I avoid everyone. Because—” Fat tears begin to track down her face as she looks at her hands. “Because any female…” Her chin rises, and her voice grows quiet. “Especially a woman with supernatural talent would be confiscated by The Cause.”

Jeb walks toward her so fast, she flinches.

Beth tenses and steps away from the wall.

“That is not TC,” he seethes.

Maddie backs away from his palpable rage.

Jeb paces away, hands pegged to his hips, jaw like granite. “That is a faction of derelict Reflectives who commandeered our headquarters while scheming a way to corrupt what it means to be Reflective.”

Maddie recovers, seeming to understand that his anger is not directed at her. She gives a small shrug. “It is what it is, though. I came here, watched you and Beth jump, and then everything went to hell.”

Jacky jerks his thumb in Maddie's direction. “Yeah, dude—what she said.”

Jeb fumes silently, grinding his teeth.

“I think once we all get cleansed and get a few hours of rest,” Beth says slowly, attempting to diffuse the emotional volatility, “everything won't seem so insurmountable.”

Her eyes travel the group. “And if Maddie has somehow miraculously managed to survive in our absence, then we can take advantage of one more day of safety and much-needed recuperation.”

Jeb sighs, his head drooping. “You're right, of course.”

Jacky glares at him. “Show and tell can come later. The gut's full, I'm beat, and I need to grab a shower. Hell, even I can't stand myself.” He snorts. “And that's sayinʼ something.”

Jeb rolls his eyes. “Fine.” Sweeping a palm toward the corridor, he says, “Ladies first.”

Beth shoots a glance Maddie's way, and she stands from the couch. “We'll cleanse together—conserve water and heat.”

“Good idea,” Jeb remarks as Beth and Maddie move silently down the hall.

Maddie asks, “How are we going to even see?”

I've got that covered. A little smile hovers at Beth's lips, and Maddie offers a tentative one in return. “My old-fashioned ways are really going to save our butts.” Beth sighs with relief when she opens the door and is greeted by her dusty but functional cleanser.

Beth leaves the door ajar, allowing moonlight to seep into the bathroom. By feel and the vague bluish-white illumination, Beth locates and sets the stumps of fat candles across a short bench meant for storing towels.

She throws the