“Oh, buddy. Let’s go.” She clenched her hands into fists, her entire body lighting with anticipation. The previous night with Tace had left her confused and emotional; this would be an excellent way to focus and deal. Making the ex-cop bleed was just a bonus. “You make a move.”
“I don’t think so.” Greyson Storm loped out of the house, long and lean and looking a bit more than mean. His black-T-shirt stretched tight across his muscled torso, and his torn jeans hugged tight hips. Those odd eyes appeared all blue in the morning light. Alert and dangerous.
Damon stepped back. “Would’ve been a good fight.”
Sami scoffed. “I doubt it.”
Grey eyed her head to toe. “I like that you wouldn’t sacrifice Vanguard for yourself.”
“Gee, thanks.” The thought occurred to her to take on both men, but she’d seen Grey fight, and she’d need to handle him by himself to even have a chance. He was skilled enough that she’d have to really hurt him to win.
“The question is, what would you sacrifice for Tace Justice?” Grey asked calmly.
She stilled, her focus narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“At the moment, he’s surrounded by guns. Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll make sure nobody fires.” Greyson smiled, and his eyes lost all expression. “Stay silent and stubborn, and we’ll see if your boy likes the taste of lead.”
Chapter Eight
The aftermath of the apocalypse is when life willget interesting.
—Dr. Frank X. Harmony,Philosophies
Tace eyed the three guys holding guns on him and worked out the math yet again. Take the gun from the first guy, use him as a shield, and then shoot the other two guys. His odds sucked. “We seem to have an issue here.”
“What’s that?” the first guy on the right asked, showing a large gap between his front two teeth.
“If I shoot any of you, I’m the medic. Do you really want to fire on the one guy who can patch you up if you’re injured?” He leaned to look around them at the Scorpius patient now thrashing on the bed. “He might be upset with you if he awakens.”
The soldiers angled to the side.
“Help him,” Bad Teeth ordered.
“Nope.” Tace crossed his arms. The feeling was rapidly returning to his head and limbs, and his vision had cleared. Whatever these attacks were, they ended quickly. So far. His mind tried to rush to Sami, and he held tight, keeping calm. The woman could fight; she’d be all right. Yet everything in him wanted to run through the guns to reach her.
“You’re a doctor. You have to help,” said the second soldier, a blond kid still fighting pimples.
Tace shook his head, relieved when dizziness didn’t bombard him again. “I’m not a doctor. I’m a field medic from the army. Drop the guns, or your buddy there dies.”
“If you’re a medic, you’ve taken an oath to save lives,” Blond Guy muttered.
“The old rules and oaths are dead, kid. Drop the guns,” Tace said, truly meaning the words. Less than a month ago, he would’ve felt obligated to help the sick man. Now most of him didn’t care. He was broken, and that thought alone should keep him the hell away from Sami. Except to protect her, of course.
The guy on the stretcher moaned and kicked out, finishing with a high-pitched scream.
Tension filled the air, and Tace moved off the wall and into a fighting stance. “Boys?”
“Jesus. Put the guns down.” Greyson stalked into the room, wiping blood off his lip. “Help the man, Justice.” The soldiers lowered their guns and backed out of the room. Greyson half turned. “Go patrol the beach.” Bootsteps answered his order.
Tace lifted his head, his body going into overdrive. “What happened to your mouth?” The Merc leader’s lip was already swelling nice and fat.
“Your woman kicked me in the face,” Greyson growled, gingerly touching his mouth.
Anger, the real kind, sped through Tace so quickly his ears burned. “What did you do?” He advanced.
Grey held up a hand. “Just threatened to shoot you. We didn’t touch her.”
Tace paused. A smile tickled his mouth, and warmth bloomed in his chest. “She was defending me?”
