Alpha Warriors of The Cause - Tamara Rose Blodgett Page 0,32

and return thirteen-year-old Jacky to Three went up in smoke when Ryan disrupted the time continuum, moving Papilio time ahead of sector Three.

Ryan jumped the Reflective women before being assessed and brought back to a semblance of health. And Jacky aged to eighteen cycles. Just those two facts make Beth's head buzz.

Then her Bloodling father suddenly appears in her shattered world by sheer coincidence. She can't evaluate it all too closely, or she'll go crazy.

They have a saying about coincidence on Papilio: coincidence is destiny asserting its dominance.

Beth hasn't told Jeb her worries. She's angry at Gunnar. He holds the secrets to her mother—and Beth's unlikely beginnings. He also took blood from a willing Maddie.

Jeb thought the worst of Gunnar after she was responsible for freeing him of his pants.

The recent memory makes her chuckle, and Jeb gives her an inquisitive glance as they walk toward a lake buried in the deepest part of the forest behind her domicile.

“Oh—you remember how Gunnar didn't have any pants?” Beth's lips curl.

Jeb's face holds the grim look it usually does, and not for the first time, Beth wonders why he's always so serious. Of course, their situation currently warrants it, and her laughter dies.

“Unforgettable,” he remarks, keeping his eyes on Slade and Gunnar as they travel ahead. He glances behind him in silent communication with Kennet and Calvin as they hold the rear position.

“Well, they slipped me something.”

Jeb stalls, turning to her. “What do you mean?” His hands go to his hips.

He's not going to like this. “They drugged me.”

Jeb whirls, striding fast toward the Bloodlings just ahead.

Beth grabs him. Hothead. “Jeb—no,” she whisper-hisses.

He looks down at her hand, and she can see the influence her touch has over him. His shoulders relax, and his eyes soften as he gazes down at her.

“Why?” his lips thin. “Tell me this instant, or I kill them both. Father or not.”

Beth folds her arms, throwing a hip out. “I was under the influence of whatever it was…”

“You weren't metabolizing it?” Jeb's eyebrow quirks.

“No—I'm half-Reflective, remember,” she says in a low voice.

Beth watches Jeb put the pieces together. “Slade isn't here for reconnaissance,” he says slowly.

Beth shakes her head. “I don't trust him. But that male”—she points at Gunnar—“is my father. And, Jeb, he could have killed me. He is amply skilled.”

Jeb looks after their broad backs, now two dwindling specks. One of the specks stops, and a face turns to regard their delay.

His face fills with suspicion. “Are you certain he's your father?”

Beth's lips flatten. “Yes, and I unwound his weapons tether as a distraction.”

“Ah,” Jeb says in semi-understanding, and a reluctant smile passes for humor across his lips.

“She pants-ed him,” Jacky remarks, moving by them and eavesdropping along the way.

Jeb groans, glaring at Jacky's retreating back. “I can't take much more of this.”

“Tough,” Jacky throws back as he keeps trekking up the steep incline. “You're stuck with my amazing ass.”

Jeb frowns after him, and Beth grabs Jeb's arm. He returns his attention to her.

“Let's go. I don't want them suspicious. We follow them to One. We avoid the slaver—”

“Dimitri?”

“Yes. We get Maddie somewhere safe…”

“And you?” Jeb asks, touching her cheek.

Beth flushes beneath his fingertips.

Jeb visibly controls his breathing. His pupils dilate, those stormy eyes missing nothing.

The silence lengthens as he studies her with a hooded gaze.

“I want you. I can't pretend in your presence, Beth.”

Beth stares, taking in all the signs of his arousal, and is too honorable to dismiss it. “I know.”

“It can't be helped, Beth.”

Reflectives were taught about the power of the soul mate bond. Beth inhales deeply. “Not good timing, Jeb. And for the record, I still can't believe I'm the one.” She laughs nervously and casts a furtive glance at the Bloodlings, who are hiking back to Jeb and Beth's position.

Jeb ignores everyone but her, moving closer still, until their bodies are touching lightly.

“Please, Beth,” Jeb's large hands come down on her shoulders, and she looks up into his eyes.

Jeb is so handsome, looking at him is almost hypnotic. Beth's never really allowed herself the luxury of studying his face. Her eyes trace every chiseled feature. His light gray eyes appear luminescent in the vague light between the open meadow and the deeper part of the woods that begin at the crest of the hill where they stand.

Beth reaches up tentatively and runs her fingers through his newly shorn dark-blond hair. Jeb leans into her caress, folding her smaller body against his own.

They fit together so perfectly, Beth gives a little