Two shots were fired, and then a scream of pain chilled right through her.
Tace sped up and stepped outside on the deck before straightening. “Holy shit.”
Sami followed, her gun pointing, and moved to his side.
A huge guy in a black T-shirt dumped one man on his head and then turned, knife out, and sliced the jugular of another. Three other downed men lay at his feet. Bullet holes marred the wall behind them, while guns lay on the ground around them.
“Is that a Merc shirt?” Sami asked, steadying her aim.
The guy looked up and raised his arm, gun pointed at them.
Tace edged in front of her.
Panic heated her throat as she recognized the fighter. “Greyson Storm. Remember us?” she called out breathlessly.
Slowly, the guy nodded, his bluish-green eyes furious. His black hair had been slicked back from a sharply cut face. Rugged and strong. Blood was splattered across his faded jeans and still dripped from his knife. “Yep. Don’t remember your names, though.”
They hadn’t given their names, she was pretty sure.
“I’m Sami, and this is Tace from Vanguard? Tace stitched you up yesterday after the fight with the president.” Sami slowly lowered her gun. Greyson Storm could seriously fight. She hadn’t had a chance to watch him while they’d rescued Maureen and Vinnie the previous day, but wowza. If the Mercs were all trained like him, they definitely would be necessary allies. The Vanguard soldiers were good, but they had civilians to worry about, too.
Damon Winter jumped over the fence leading to the beach. “Holy shit, Grey. You said to give you five minutes.”
Grey looked down at the dead men. “I guess I only needed three.”
Sami’s knees weakened, and she sidled a little closer to Tace. He remained unerringly still as if waiting for an attack.
Damon jerked his head toward them. “Sami and Tace? I’m sure you remember Grey, the leader of the Mercs.”
Grey looked them both over, a veil drawing down over his eyes. “Where’s Maureen Shadow?” Although rich and deep, his voice held a hint of violence. The promise of such anyway.
“She’s not here,” Tace said, moving another couple of inches in front of Sami, his back muscles visibly tightening.
Greyson’s head went back. “That’s unfortunate. I guess we should get started, then.”
Chapter Five
A sociopath is the hero in his own twisted story.
—Dr. Vinnie Wellington,Sociopaths
Tace stepped completely in front of Sami, facing what could only be considered a threat in the form of Greyson Storm. The man was dangerous, and for the first time, Tace felt a sharpness to his need to shield Sami. If he was gonna make a mistake in defending her, it would be to shoot first and reason later. “What do you want to get started, Greyson?” He kept his hands loose, but his finger tightened on the trigger.
Greyson pointed toward the headquarters, and blood splattered from his hand to turn the grass red. “We have wounded. That’s why you’re here.”
“Yes.” Tace slowly relaxed.
“I gave my word you wouldn’t be harmed,” Greyson said, wiping his knife on his jeans and leaving a red streak while stepping over the bodies.
“Yes, you did.” Tace didn’t put away his gun.
Grey turned toward Damon. “Let’s take down any fences between the beach and all of the houses, and then let’s look at the walls between houses. Maybe we’ll blow them apart. This can’t happen again.”
Damon nodded. “On it.” He turned back for the beach, his movements fluid and graceful.
Grey motioned to them. “If you’d follow me.”
Tace glanced over his shoulder and waited for Sami’s nod before striding down the tile stairs and across scrub grass to the fence opening. Men were already arriving with tools and sledgehammers, and several paused to give Sami the once-over.
