Commander Thomas, I regret to inform you that little Cassidy Colder and her mother, Elizabeth, died in a fire that overtook their apartment building several weeks ago. The bodies were unrecoverable, but there is no doubt that they, along with several others, were caught in the blaze. There was some trouble associated with the child and mother, rumors I’ve heard of a contract on their lives. Please let me know if you would like me to obtain more information…
The fax had arrived from the private investigator he had hired. Commander Thomas had checked it out immediately. Neighbors had heard the screams, had seen the apartment building explode, flames overtaking it in a matter of minutes. Dash felt his world crumble. The little girl who had saved him, who had given him his will to live, was gone. For days he sat silent, staring broodingly at the ceiling. For so long he had been alone. He had awakened each day knowing he had no one. Had gone to sleep each night feeling the loss. Yet, while he lay near death, God had brought him angels. Only to take them away once again. It was a terrible blow to the soul he thought had withered away years ago. He knew only blood and death. Had never known innocence until Cassie and her Momma, Lizbeth. The immature, childish scrawl of the name had lingered in his mind. Elizabeth . His Elizabeth .
In thirty years of living, Dash had never claimed any one person as essential in his life. He had grown up knowing his survival depended on having no one, knowing he was different, knowing how imperative it was that he hide those differences. He had made his own way in life, had literally raised himself as best he could until he was old enough to join the Army.
He had made the service his home. The men he fought with, though not close to him, had given him a base to interact, to sharpen his intellect, to learn how to lead. For twelve years he had done just that. Led. He moved up the ranks, joining the Special Forces and proving his capabilities there. He had thought he hadn’t needed anything more.
Dash realized now how wrong he had been.
Elizabeth and Cassie’s deaths tore a wound in his soul he couldn’t explain. He had never touched the woman, had never held the daughter. She wasn’t his mate, wasn’t his child, and yet his heart screamed something different. His soul howled at the loss and some instinct, some inborn knowledge, refused to allow him to deny the bond that existed between him, mother and child.
“Dash, you have to snap out of this.” Commander Thomas sat beside his hospital bed, his green eyes somber, intent. “These things happen, son. You can’t explain them or make sense of them. At least you have a part of her to remember.”
Dash stilled the howl that wanted to rise to his lips. He had nothing. A pile of fragile letters wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
His fingers curled into the sheet as he stared up at the dull white ceiling silently. They thought he had sunk into depression. Lost his will to fight. Nothing could be further from the truth. He had one last battle to fight before he could give into the soul-deep need to rest. Vengeance. It kept the blood pumping in his veins, kept his heart beating in his chest.
He gave his commander a long, brooding look.
“I want to know what happened.”
Commander Thomas sighed wearily, shaking. “What does it matter, Dash? They’re gone.”
Dash felt fury engulf him. It mattered. It mattered because he intended to exact his own form of justice.
“I want to know. Contact the investigator. I want the information before my release.”
He had his plans in place. The investigator could provide the background he needed, then Dash would finish the job.
“So you can do what?” Commander Thomas leaned back against his chair, watching him with a frown.
“You’ll be assigned a new unit…”
“I was given the option to return stateside on deactivation.” It was all he could do to keep from snarling.
“I won’t be returning to duty, Commander. I’ve had enough.”
Surprise glittered in the commander’s eyes, and Dash knew why. He had been in the service since he was eighteen. He hadn’t once taken a deactivation. Twelve years he had given to first the Army and then to the Special Forces Units. He was one of the best, a natural leader and a savage fighter. But he’d had enough. The unit he had fought with for over a year was gone. The little girl and the mother who had seen him through the need for death were gone. He needed justice. He needed a way to balance the scales and then he needed to find the part of himself he had hidden for most of his life. The commander sighed wearily before nodding. “I’ll call him tonight. You’ll have what you need.”
He rose to his feet, staring down at Dash for long, silent moments.
“Vigilantism is a crime. You know that, don’t you Dash?” he asked him cautiously. Dash smiled. A slow baring of his teeth that he knew the commander would recognize. Dash was one of the best for a reason. He knew what he was doing. And he knew how to do it right.
“They have to catch you first,” he said softly.
While he waited on the information, he worked on completing his recovery. He was rarely still. He worked his body and his mind constantly, making certain each were in peak condition. When word came through that the information was being sent to the stateside location Dash had chosen, he packed his duffle bag and prepared to leave.
* * * * *
Several days before his release, his strength renewed, his mind on returning to the States and armed with enough information to begin a slow, steady hunt, an unfamiliar letter arrived. He knew the handwriting, not the name. His heart stopped when he read the letter within the plain envelope.
I know you must have lots of other little girls to love. Momma says you must be married with children and don’t need us. But I need you Dash. Please help me and my Momma before the bad guys get us again. I used to be Cassidy Colder, but Momma says now my name is Cassie Walker. Walkers okay I guess. And here. This is Bo Bo’s Kercheif. So you know it’s me. Momma says you will think the splosion got us. It hurt Momma, but we’re okay. Please help us Dash.
It had been hastily scrawled and it sent terror chasing down his spine. Inside was the locket he had sent her for her eighth birthday, a picture of herself and her mother inside. The mother looked haunted. Big
blue eyes stared in startled awareness at the camera while the girl smiled charmingly. The small red kerchief had been wrapped around a little teddy bear’s neck that he had asked Commander Thomas to order for her. Bo Bo, she had named it. He could smell her on it. Baby powder and innocence. But there was another scent, Elizabeth ’s, and it sent his hormones howling. Pure female seductiveness. Dark, sweet, like a summer rainfall.
His eyes narrowed on the picture then, rage shaking his body at the thought of anyone daring to hurt either of them. They were his. And no one dared touch anything or anyone belonging to Dash Sinclair. Before he could stop it, a rumble of pure menace echoed in his chest, a growl of foreboding, a promise of retribution. And the hunt was on. He would go after the enemy later. First…first he had to find the family he had claimed in the darkness of pain. The mate that needed warmth, the child that needed protection. He would find them first. If along the way, a few of the enemy died, too bad. It would be a few less to kill later.