Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
Consciousness returned far too slowly.
With it, a pulsing pain that was difficult to ignore.
Nothing compared to the raging fear that immediately flooded his system.
Cassandra.
That one word screamed through his mind, and Dragon jerked upright, his gaze immediately scanning the area for his team.
Thankfully, the night vision goggles were still on his head, and his weapon was strapped to his body, so he was armed and able to see around him.
It looked like the set of a bad action movie. Piles of rubble were littered about, the previously wide corridor was now mostly blocked, and he could see the bodies of his teammates strewn among the debris.
He ached to get to Cassandra, having no idea if she was injured or possibly even dead. The explosives could have been closer to them or to the room where the two girls were hiding, there was no way to know until they got there, but he couldn’t go until he checked on his team.
They were family. The first one he’d ever had, and for all he knew, Cassandra was fine, that part of the building could be mostly undamaged. Even if she was injured, he would need his team to help dig through the rubble to get to her.
Still, he was torn as he shoved to his feet. The way his body weaved wasn't a good sign, but he wasn't going to waste time worrying about it. It didn’t matter if he was injured, he had to check on his team, had to get to Cassandra.
What if the person responsible for cleaning down the lab really was still there?
It didn't make sense because it would mean they’d kept themselves in the blast zone, but then again, maybe they hadn't expected his team to find this place so quickly.
After all, if the smell of bleach had been that strong that it messed with his ability to scent anything else, it meant the place had been cleaned down a mere couple of hours before they got there.
Stumbling through the debris, Dragon found Blade first and dropped to his knees beside the far too still man.
There was blood on his friend’s face, and Blade was lying awkwardly on his side, but the second he reached out and pressed his fingers to Blade’s neck to check for a pulse, the other man growled and snapped out a hand, closing it around his wrist.
“Good, you're alive,” he said, unfazed by the man’s weak attempt at an attack, and merely pulled his hand free, shoving back to his feet and searching for the next closest teammate.
No, not just teammates.
These men were his family, they were his brothers, they had been the only thing that kept him sane, as well as giving him his first sense of what it meant to have people who actually cared about him.
He couldn’t imagine his life without every single one of them in it.
His future was with Cassandra, he was done pretending he could stay away from her, but that didn't mean he would ever leave his team.
Maybe they weren't the monsters they feared they had been turned into, but they still battled rage, still had enhanced skills, still would never be normal.
“What the hell happened?” Blade asked from behind him. If his friend couldn’t remember what had happened, that didn't bode well for his mental state, he likely had a concussion, but at least he was still alive.
“Explosion. Smelled it too late,” Dragon muttered as he shoved some debris out of the way so he could get to Thunder.
Seeing the man with enhanced speed so still was definitely unsettling.
Even if they all survived this, and so far that was up for debate, there was no way he would forgive himself for this failure.
It didn’t matter if the bleach had impeded his abilities, he should have found a way to work around it. Hell, he should have known that if the smell of bleach was too strong, then there was a reason for it, and they needed to pull back and evaluate.
Still, there was no going back.
What was done was done, he just had to hope he hadn't lost any of the people he cared about.
Loved.
Although he wouldn't say that word aloud, wasn't in that place yet, it didn't change the facts.
“Not your fault. Couldn’t hear anything either,” Blade muttered, and he could hear his friend stumbling behind him.
Thunder was lying sprawled on his back, with what looked like a heavy piece of rubble pinning his legs in place.
Without exchanging a word, both he and Blade went to work removing the chunks of concrete.
Thunder didn't stir, but this time around, Dragon didn't need to check if the man was alive, he could smell that he was. Blade, too, seemed to be able to hear the beating of Thunder’s heart because he didn't check for a pulse either.
They were about halfway through when he suddenly smelled something behind them.
Someone.
Already reaching for his weapon, he was spinning around right as a howl echoed through the hall.
Blade spun around, too, and they both moved so they were using their bodies as a shield for Thunder, who groaned behind them, obviously roused by the growl of fury.
A pile of rubble suddenly went flying, and Steel emerged from it. Their team leader was breathing hard, his eyes wild. Covered in a thick layer of dust, he looked like some sort of furious avenging ghost warrior.
“It’s us, Dragon and Blade,” he called out, and Steel’s gaze snapped toward them.
“Rose,” Steel howled, voice ragged.
“We’ll get to her, to them,” Dragon assured his friend, uncomfortable with the role reversal.
Given his past and the anger already planted in him from birth, he’d always been the most volatile.
Usually, it was Steel working to calm him down before he did something rash, but for once he was the voice of reason.
It was clear Steel was doing everything he could to rein in his terror for the woman he loved, same way he was.
After a few tense seconds where Dragon wondered if he could knock down his team leader before the much stronger man could use his enhanced strength to crush him like a bug, Steel dropped his head and dragged in a breath they could all hear.
When Steel looked back up, Dragon could see he’d gotten himself back under control.
“The others?” Steel asked as he staggered toward them.
“Thunder is pinned,” he replied.
“Thunder is fine,” the man in question said on a groan, and they all turned back to find him pushing up and reaching down to shove off the last of the concrete on his legs.
“Voodoo and Lion?” Steel asked.
A loud cough echoed through the space, and movement a little further down the hall from where they were revealed Lion pushing to his feet. “Voodoo is down,” he called out.
Blade helped Thunder up, and all four of them climbed over the debris to get to where Lion was now up and on his knees, leaning over Voodoo. Even with the eerie green of the night vision goggles, Dragon could tell that the color of Voodoo’s skin was off.
“Alive?” he asked as he dropped to his knees beside Lion and Voodoo.
“Barely,” Lion replied.
“Look.” Thunder pointed to a piece of piping that had embedded itself in Voodoo’s side.
On anyone else, it would be enough to kill them, but Voodoo was different. They all had enhanced healing, but Voodoo was something else. He’d seen some crazy things when it came to this man. Both in healing himself and dragging others back from the brink.
“Pull it out,” Steel ordered.
“It might kill him,” Blade protested.
“It won't.” Steel said it so confidently that Lion seemed to automatically move a hand to grasp the pipe.
After a brief hesitation, the man yanked, and Voodoo’s entire body jerked as though in pain, although the man’s eyes didn't open, his lashes didn't so much as flutter on his cheeks.
“You guys go, find the girls, I’ll stay with him,” Lion said as he lifted Voodoo’s clothes to get access to the wound.
As badly as he wanted to get to Cassandra, ease the fiery itch under his skin, Dragon’s gaze locked on the wound. “What the hell? It’s healing already, look.”
Before their very eyes, the gash in Voodoo’s stomach, a huge hole at least two inches in diameter, began to close. It was like watching magic happen.
Seconds later, Voodoo groaned and lifted a hand toward the wound. “Damn, that hurt.”
“You should be dead, man,” Thunder said softly.
“Yet I'm not,” Voodoo replied.
“Think you should stay still for a bit,” Lion said when Voodoo tried to sit.
“Can't. The girls, we have to get to them. I feel … something is wrong.”
Nobody attempted to argue with the man. Voodoo knew things sometimes before the rest of them. At the same time Dragon pulled in a deep breath through his nose, Blade cocked his head to the side.
Beneath the lingering scent of bleach, beneath the heavy smell of the dust and debris, he could smell something else. Another person. More than that, he could smell fear. Cassandra’s fear.
“Someone else is with them,” Blade announced, coming to the same conclusion he had.
Whoever had set those explosives was still in the building, and he’d found Cassandra and Rose. Depending on their motivations and who they were working for, that person could either kill both the women outright, or abduct them and take them to Dr. Gardner or the mystery woman.
January 9th
9:25 P.M.
There was nowhere to go.
They were trapped.
Cassandra scanned the ground in the thin light of the flashlight, praying that both hers and Rose’s lost weapons would suddenly become visible, and she could make a dive for them.
Without those guns, they were sitting ducks.
There was absolutely nothing stopping this man from doing exactly what he came to do. Which was kill them or take them.
She was leaning toward taking them. That had been the plan for the man who had broken into her home. That night felt like a lifetime ago, and yet in reality, it wasn’t even quite a week yet.
Six days that had changed her life, though.