Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Esme
I’m doing this, really doing this. A part of me recognizes that my actions are crazy, yet I’m set upon the course and determined to do it regardless.
I slip out of the back of the medical cubicle and skirt around. If I want to get into the field, I need more information than I’m supplied via my own helmet. What I need is a soldier’s helmet.
I make my way along the back walls of the cubicles, listening for voices or the sounds of a healer at work.
When I find quiet, I carefully pull the canvas aside so I can check inside.
Most have healers or other medical personnel dealing with the injured, but through trial and error, I come upon exactly what I need.
A soldier is out of commission, and although I sense his injuries have been healed, he’s unconscious.
It happens sometimes. If the wounds are severe enough, they might sedate them anyway.
In this case, I can sense his body has made the decision for him.
The life-threatening wounds have been dealt with, and his system is overwhelmed.
On a deep cellular level, yet more repairs are taking place.
His armor has been cut away and left in a pile on the floor. Beside it is his helmet. I slip inside, grab the helmet, and slip back out.
It must be five sizes too big, and I tighten the strap to the limit. Nobody’s going to pay that close attention during an operation. My armor will be fine, and at this stage, the combat healers will be in the field with their teams. I will pass a cursory glance.
There is a crack down the middle of the visor.
But these things are damn near indestructible, designed to keep working no matter what.
It flickers to life when I switch it on, albeit with a slightly distorted view.
Radio chatter bombards my ears. It takes me several moments to realize what’s going on.
The Uncorrupted have landed a ship. Their focus will be on evacuating as many personnel as possible, along with research and prisoners in order of priority, depending on who they deem most valuable.
A battle will take place as we try to block their retreat, rescuing as many of our people as we can in the process.
I rarely go to the front line. I can count on one hand the number of times it has happened. But I know what to expect, and when I emerge from the back of the medical tents, it’s into structured, if frantic, activity.
A steady stream of incoming wounded is being dragged, carried, or at times brought in on stretchers.
Triage healers are at the front, directing arrivals.
It goes against everything inside me to leave a place where I’m needed. Yet there’s something deeper driving me, a connection that’s been made to a man who needs me more.
I stick close to the edges, avoiding our soldiers, and using the crates and containers of our supplies as cover until there is no more cover left.
Move with purpose. I have every right to be where I am. Just a healer following instructions. So what if I’m on my own? They’re too busy to notice.
I exit the temporary base, taking off at a jog in the opposite direction from everyone else. This isn’t much of a plan. In fact, it’s nothing at all. There’s just this pull, guiding me toward him. Only, he’s so distant now that I can hardly feel him.
He won’t come back. At least he doesn’t believe that he will.
He told me, not with his words, but with his eyes and the way he touched me…
The hot intimacy said one thing—the chaste kiss to my lips before we parted, said another.
“Stay here,” he said. “Don’t leave, no matter what you feel, understand?
Disobey me and I’m going to be giving you an ass fucking you won’t forget…
after I’ve brought a pretty pink blush to it under my belt. ”
Oh, if only he would. I’d welcome anything and everything he might do to me.
“What are you doing here?”
The voice stops me in my tracks. “I’m to—I’m.” Get a grip, Esme. Act like you belong. “I’m to report to Ryker Sherwin.”
I mentally grimace. The only other two soldiers whose names I know are Zeb and Ethan Black. Mentioning either of them would be a really bad idea. I’m not convinced Ryker is a good choice, more it was the only one I could think of under pressure.
The visors are blacked out. He can’t see my face, and I can’t see his, just the tightening of his lips. But I can sense his emotions, though, the urgency of his order warring with his suspicions about me.
“I need to go,” I press.
His indecision thickens, but his commands are weighing him down, and he stabs his finger in the direction of the passageway leading out.
“Follow the line between the buildings. He’s on the frontline.
But don’t go into their building without an escort.
Ask someone to take you when you get to the end of the passage. ”
He turns and jogs toward the temporary base.
I turn and head down the passage from which the sounds of battle emanate.
Adrenaline is already flooding my system, making me feel hyper and anxious as I come out onto a roadway congested with armored vehicles and soldiers. There, directly ahead of me, is Ethan Black talking to a soldier.
He has lost his helmet somewhere along the way. There is a weeping gash at his temple and a nice bruise forming—he has clearly been in the thick of it at some point…
Anxiety crawls up my throat. Zeb was part of his team, already in danger.
I slip around the side of the vehicle, trying to act inconspicuous so I can get closer and eavesdrop. There are a few healers here. Those allocated to units. I’m hoping my presence doesn’t stir any interest.
“… And they’re not going to stay grounded long,” the soldier is saying to Ethan.
He checks his wrist device. “He was sighted entering ten minutes ago. We have eyes on the ship, but it looks like they are preparing to launch imminently, scrambling the last people as we speak. Jenda must be on board.”
Jenda? Is he talking about the infamous Uncorrupted alpha, who is responsible for the misery inflicted on countless dynamics under her orders?
Pieces begin coming together, disjointed at first, and then in a rush.
Jenda did horrific experiments on Ethan’s mate. The tic thumping in his jaw, his bleak expression, and the fury leaving him in psychic clouds are all the confirmation I need.
“If she’s on board. So is Zeb,” Ethan says coldly. “He knows the mission. He’ll get it done.”
Dear God!
“Unless he moves quickly, he’s not going to get off,” the soldier says.
“Whatever they were doing here must have been important. The numbers they’re hitting us with and so fast…
They won’t delay takeoff. Likely, they will abandon their own troops if they need to. He could be caught on the wrong side.”
“He understood the risk,” Ethan says, voice empty of emotion. “He will clone them. If he needs to, if he can find a good candidate, he’ll deep clone.”
Clone them? Deep clone?
Who is this man?
Zeb is on the enemy ship. Some kind of mission involving a high-profile, Uncorrupted doctor.
“Whatever it takes,” Ethan continues. “He won’t come back unless Jenda is dead.”
I stumble backward, bile rising in my throat.
“What was that?” I hear the soldier say, but I’m already moving, spinning around and falling in behind a troop of soldiers who are heading at a jog for the front line.
Instincts, fast and furious, pound through my blood. I can see the field display up on my monitor, cracked but operating. The enemy ship… Our soldiers… The battle lines.
Zeb is on their ship. And if he’s on their ship, then I need to be there too. I don’t know how I’m going to make that happen, only that I will.