so I move in to take his weapons—he laid them down, for Christ’s sake. And, Jesus, Fallon, one of his own shoots him, and wings me before I could take him out.”
A soldier to the bone, one who’d formed a strong band of brothers—and sisters—in arms, Colin’s disgust came with a lacing of fury.
“He shot his own man. His own, unarmed, man. Who the fucking fuck does that?”
“True believers,” she said simply. “Don’t underestimate the true believer.”
“Well, whatever the son of a bitch believed, I believe he’s burning in hell now. He shot his own man, a man with his hands up. No threat. Anyway.” He gave her that one-shoulder shrug again. “We got them out. Did you talk to Clarence?”
“Yes. He’s doing fine.”
“Good. Good. I saw him go down, but I couldn’t get to him.”
“Most of our wounded have been treated and released. The others need a little more time in the clinic, but they’re going to be fine.”
“Yeah, Mom said. I think I’ll go into town, see how everybody’s doing anyway.”
“Tell Ethan so he can tell Mom and Dad if I’m still sleeping.”
“Sure.” With his free hand, he stacked the plate, bowl, glass, balanced them. Then his eyes met hers, warrior to warrior.
“It was a good mission. Three hundred and thirty-two prisoners freed.”
“Three hundred and thirty-three. One of them just had a baby.”
“No shit?” He grinned. “Good deal. See you later.”
She walked back to her room as he started upstairs. He’d been raised a farmer, she thought, one who loved basketball and bragging and finding little treasures. Once he’d claimed he’d be president. He wouldn’t, Fallon thought as she stripped to the skin. He was, and always would be, a soldier. And a damn good one.
She dragged on an oversize T-shirt she’d scavenged years before and used for sleep with a pair of boys’ boxers. After countless washings the image of the man and his guitar on the shirt had faded like a ghost. Her dad called him The Boss, said he’d been—or was, who knew?—a kind of rocking troubadour.
She didn’t have any musical talent, but she knew what it meant to be the boss.
So she slid into bed thanking the gods no one she loved or commanded had died. And as the voices, the stories, the nightmares of those she’d helped save rang in her head along with their fears, their gratitude, their tears, she ordered herself to shut them out.
And sleep.
* * *
She woke in moonlight with the chill of fall in the air. Fog grazed along the ground, thin smoke that wound through the stone circle. Frost, sharp as diamonds, sparkled on the high grass of the field.
The woods beyond rattled and moaned with the wind.
“Well.” Beside her, Duncan scanned the field, the woods, then turned to study her with dark green eyes. “This is unexpected. Did you pull me in?”
“I don’t know.”
She hadn’t seen him in nearly two years and then only briefly when he’d flashed back to New Hope to report. She knew he’d come back at Christmas to see his family because Tonia mentioned it.
He’d left New Hope two years ago come October, after the battle in the gardens when he’d lost a friend who’d been a brother to him. When she’d struck down her father’s brother, his murderer—and Simon Swift had finished him.
He’d gone to help train troops, to work with Mallick, her own teacher, at a base far enough away to give them both time and space.
“Well,” he said again. “Since we’re here.” He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword as he spoke, as he went back to scanning the woods, the shadows, the night. “I heard the rescue mission hit the marks. Big one,” he added, glancing at her again. “We could have helped.”
“There were enough of us to handle it. More are coming. You…”
He wore his hair longer than he had, she noted, or just hadn’t bothered with a trim. It curled over the collar of his jacket. He hadn’t bothered to shave, either, so his face—all the strong angles of it—carried a scruff.
She wished it didn’t suit him. She wished she didn’t feel this … want for him.
“Me?” he prompted.
“I’m disoriented. I don’t like it.” She heard the angry edge in her voice, didn’t care. “Maybe you pulled me in.”
“Can’t tell you. Wasn’t intentional either way. For me it was summer, evening. I was in my quarters thinking about capping off a long day with a beer. We’ve got a nice little brewery going