Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1) Page 7

Jax shrugged out of his vest and sat on the table, his legs extending to the floor. “And the kid? How bad?”

  “Scared shitless but not hurt.” Tace shoved Jax’s shirtsleeve up his arm and hummed at the wound.

  Jax cleared his throat, forcing his voice out. “Was she, ah—”

  Tace paused, understanding dawning across his broad face. “No. Haylee got separated from the group, so she hid. Cruz found her and set his plan into action. Nobody touched the girl.”

  The breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding blew out of Jax. “Good.” Cruz must’ve been on a timetable or he would’ve taken the time to violate the girl, just to torture Jax. “No more kids on scavenging trips.”

  Tace leaned in and started stitching up the wound. “Don’t have a choice, and you know it. We’re limited, and everybody has work to do.”

  Jax sucked in air and shoved pain away like he’d learned in the army. Failure threatened to crush his skull. If he was doing his fucking job, the kids would be safe.

  “Stop.” Tace finished stitching and slapped a bandage on the wound. “Don’t second-guess yourself.” He threw blood-soaked cotton balls into a corner trash can. “Bullet just grazed you and will leave a wimpy scar. Nothing fun.”

  What was one more scar? “Thanks, Doc.”

  “I’m not a doctor, and you should probably see one of the real doctors inner territory,” Tace said without heat. “That old feud between you and Cruz. It’s bad.”

  “Yeah. It’s bad.” Jax picked at his bandage. “When I left the service and came home, one of my plans was to kill him.”

  Tace blinked. “Oh. Um—”

  “Don’t want to talk about it.” Enough of opening old wounds. “Thanks for covering my back out there.”

  “Of course.” Tace, as usual, let the subject drop. “Uh, I heard your window being unboarded during the fight. How bad did you yell at Dr. Harmony?”

  “Not bad.” Jax unrolled his shirt sleeve. “She doesn’t seem to understand her importance. Or the threat she represents.”

  “Perhaps she knows something we don’t.” Tace leaned back against the counter, fatigue creasing the side of his mouth. “Did you piss her off so bad she won’t help us?”

  “She’ll help us.” Jax needed to get some answers from her, when they both had clear heads. He probably should’ve calmed down before storming up to discuss the window with her, but either way, he’d made his point.

  “When do I get to meet her?” Tace asked. “I’m ready to figure out this illness, and she knows a helluva lot more than we do. I’ve had the records from the CDC outpost brought here from the main records building’s inner compound.”

  Now probably wasn’t a good time. “Let’s give her a couple of hours to calm down from our, ah, discussion, and then I’ll bring her to the lab.”

  Tace exhaled and shook his head. “You yelled at her.”

  “She deserved it.” No need to go into details. For now, he had to figure out a way to allow the teenagers to contribute without putting them in so much danger.

  Manny strode inside, a butterfly bandage over his right eye. “Everyone good?”

  Jax took in the fifty-year-old badass. “Yes, but I need you to keep a closer eye on the kids and scavengers than we’ve done so far.”

  Manny rubbed a hand through thick gray hair. “Shit.”

  “Thanks.” Jax rolled his burning shoulder. “I think April Snyder can help. I’ll have you approach her.” He turned back toward Tace and paused as a teenager crossed into the room from the soup kitchen, hands full of wires. “Byron?”

  The kid glanced up through wire-rimmed glasses. “I’m working on a portable ham radio, just in case we need one on a mission. But I need more wires. If I come up with a list, will you keep an eye out during raids?”

  “Sure.” Jax studied the skinny seventeen-year-old. “You did a great job rewiring the van the other day. Thanks.”

  “No problem.” The kid glanced at his watch. “Damn. I’m late for target practice. We can’t keep using pretend bullets.” He knuckled his glasses back up his nose. “I’ll try to come up with rubber bullets or something.” Muttering to himself, he turned on his torn tennis shoe and disappeared.

  Jax looked at the empty doorway. “I like that kid. Just imagine what he could’ve been before Scorpius.”

  Tace nodded. “I’d rather imagine what he can do for us now.”

  Good damn point. “Speaking of fake bullets, we need more real ammo,” Jax said.

  Tace sighed. “Raid?”

  “Yeah. I hate to do it, but I remember some of the stash houses around L.A. Chances are, we’ll find some still there. Maybe drugs, too.” With so many getting wounded so often, they couldn’t be too choosy over painkillers. “I’m thinking of taking the new guy so you can stay here.”

  Tace’s head flipped up. “No.”

  “Yes. If I don’t make it back, you’re in command. Plus, you’re our only medic with actual combat training. The rest are a couple of nurses and doctors. Young ones. We can’t lose you.” Jax didn’t let any doubt show in his eyes. The Vanguard had to run like the military to survive, so his orders had to be obeyed, and he had to keep his distance from folks.

  Suddenly, without a hint of sound, Raze stood in the doorway. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Jax, his body in definite fighting shape. Black hair curled over his collar, and only the odd light blue of his eyes showed his heritage as anything other than Native American. “Is the girl okay?” Raze asked.

  “Yes. Nice job on the roof. You’ve done sniper duty.”

  “Yes.” Raze turned on his heel and disappeared.

  Tace wrinkled his brow. “That guy is seriously weird.”

  Yeah, he was off, but so was the rest of the world right now. “He can fight, and he has experience. Let’s hope he stays on our side,” Jax said. Jax didn’t trust him and didn’t know his true agenda, but for now, he could use him. “Anyway, with him on the raid, you can stay busy here as my main combat doctor.”

  Tace sighed. “Fine. But about Lynne Harmony—she has medical knowledge, right?”

  “Yes. Worked for the CDC before everything. Was some brilliant scientist—that comes with medical knowledge, I’m sure.” Jax stretched out his wounded arm. “But even if she wanted to help us, most people wouldn’t let her touch them. You know that.”

  “She just has to help decipher the research materials we’ve confiscated from labs lately.” Tace shook his head. “Although I don’t want to cover her back all day. How are you going to keep her safe?” He kicked at a roll of garbage that had fallen out of the overflowing bin. “How will I if you don’t return from your next raid?”

  Jax eyed his second in command and somebody he would’ve called a friend in the old days. They’d nearly died more than a few times together, and he couldn’t lie. “I have no fucking clue.”

  Chapter Eight

  Passion will hunt us, as we slumber unaware, and consume us from within.

  —Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony

  So far, Lynne’s first full day in Vanguard territory had sucked, and she was still stuck in Jax’s room as darkness filtered through the boarded-up window. Damn it. She didn’t have time to be a prisoner. She needed to get on with her mission.

  She set down her dad’s journal after reading some of his more humorous passages and then fingered a worn and faded picture taped to the wall by the door. A much younger Jax with his arm slung around a shorter kid, one with Jax’s eyes. A brother? They had the same facial structure and build, so definitely a younger brother.

  A timid knock sounded on the door, and Lynne hurriedly unlocked her side, more than tired of talking to herself for the last several hours. She yanked open the door, happy to see whoever ended up on the other side.

  Fragrant and steaming, a bowl of soup lay at her feet on the threadbare carpet.

  She glanced up and smiled at the woman sidling down the other side of the hall near a soldier guarding the stairwell. “Thank you.”


  The woman appeared to be about forty with brown hair streaked with gray. She continued inching away. “Someone will be back for the dish later.”

  “Wait.” Lynne leaned down and picked up the bowl. “Would you like to stay? Maybe chat?”

  “God, no.” Horror widened the woman’s eyes. “You’re the plague. You shouldn’t be here.” She crossed herself, her lips pursing. “Only the very devil himself could’ve infected you with a monstrous blue heart. The rumors about you are true, and now you’re going to infect our leader, the one man who can save us all.” Turning, she sprinted in worn tennis shoes for the nearest stairwell.

  Lynne glanced at the soldier, whose gaze remained focused above her head.

  She swallowed and stepped back inside to shut the door. Tears pricked her eyes. How silly. What the hell did she care about some crazy woman who didn’t like her? Nobody liked her, and she’d always be alone. She placed the soup on the table, no longer hungry.

  Even her bones were exhausted, and sometimes she wondered why she hadn’t just died. What had she done that was so terrible to have deserved this? Her heart beat steadily, the small glow showing blue through her shirt.

  A tear fell.

  Of course, Jax Mercury chose that minute to walk inside.

  He paused, an oh shit expression crossing his rugged face. She would’ve laughed, but the struggle to stem the tears was too hard. A frown lowered his eyebrows, and he shut the door, placing several guns on top of the useless refrigerator. “Did I hurt you that badly?”

  She paused and waited until his words sank in. “No.”

  He blinked and glanced around the apartment. “Stop crying.”

  At the order, a loud sob erupted from her chest.

  He stilled. “Ah, what’s wrong?”

  It was a simple question. A nice question. One a civilized person would ask. The easy words ticked through her, and something exploded deep inside. “Everything.” She threw out her hands. “Everybody hates me, the world is dying, and you fucking spanked me earlier.” She doubled over as the hurt overcame her.

  “Well, shit.” A second later, she found herself lifted and cradled in very strong arms. Jax held her against his hard chest, his mouth near her ear. “Nobody hates you.”

  “Yes, they do,” she hiccupped, crying harder, her body shaking.

  He sighed and dropped onto the sofa, holding her closer, tucking her face into his neck. “We fear things in direct proportion to our ignorance of them.” His breath brushed her ear, and his size provided safety.

  “Who said that?” she pushed out between sobs.

  “Christian Nestell Bovee.” Jax settled his weight and kicked his feet out over the dented coffee table. “He was a writer in the late 1800s.”

  She tried to keep her balance on his lap as her sobs increased and she let it all out. The fear, the fury, even the future.

  Finally, with a couple more hiccups, her tears subsided. When was the last time anybody had held her? Letting herself go, she flattened her hand over his chest, marveling at its solidness. “How do you know so much?”

  “Books.” He idly played with her hair. “The judge who gave me the choice of military or prison kept in touch, and he loved philosophy and literature. He would send me books all over the world. At first I read just because I owed him. Then I read because I grew. Finally, I read because the words began to make sense.”

  “I shouldn’t have come here,” she said dully, her mouth nearly touching his corded neck.

  He rubbed a big hand down her back. “Why not?”

  “I probably can’t help, and now I’ve added more fear to people already terrified.” She’d been only thinking of herself, believing if she gave them knowledge of Scorpius, it’d be a fair exchange for what she needed. It probably didn’t come close. “I’m sorry.”

  “I think you could be very helpful here. If you tell us all you know and don’t hold anything back.” He caressed small circles up and down her spine.

  She bit back a moan of pleasure. “If I tell you everything, will you let me go?”

  “No.” He stiffened. “Why would you want to leave?”

  She lifted back to meet his gaze. “I can’t let it happen anymore. Be treated like a bad person, like an infection. People won’t even look at me, much less come near me. Touch me.” Without gloves and needles.

  He cupped her cheek and wiped tears away with his thumb. “I’m touching you.”

  Tears clung to her lashes and blurred her vision. Her heart hurting, feeling more alone than ever, she tried to pull away. Everything in her wanted to stay in his arms, to touch him, but like any Scorpius survivor, she was a carrier. She might infect him and thus probably kill him.

  He held her in place.

  “No, Jax. Let me go . . .” To be this close to him, to want him so badly, just heightened her loneliness. She was isolated by her own blood. “This is too dangerous for you. You’re risking infection.”

  His searing gaze held her captive. “You can’t infect me.”

  She blinked. “Wh-why not?”

  “I’ve survived the bacteria.”

  She stilled. Shock seized her lungs. He was a carrier, too? “The woman before, the one who yelled at me. She said I’d infect you.” Oh God. “They don’t know?”

  “No.” His jaw hardened. “Nobody in the Vanguard knows. If they find out, I’ll be thrown out or lynched.”

  Lynne tried to concentrate, to find any sort of thought and grab on to it. But all she could think was that the man holding her so securely on his lap was safe from her. “There have to be many survivors here.”

  “Maybe, but it’s not like we wear a sign.”

  She nodded, tingles cascading through her. “I can’t infect you.”

  His gaze dropped to her lips. Tension suddenly surrounded them, changing the atmosphere. “No, you can’t.”

  A tingle buzzed through her. Heat uncoiled in her abdomen, and she needed to move away. Instead, she licked her lips and drew in her breath.

  He frowned, his gaze lifting to hers. The hand at her spine continued up to tangle in her hair and, almost in slow motion, drew back her head, elongating her neck. Moving at his leisure, definitely in control, he lowered his head, and his lips enclosed her collarbone.

  Shock and heat spiraled under her skin. She sighed and pressed back against his hand. He wandered up, licking, to nip her earlobe.

  She panted out air, her body revving alive. The most alive she’d felt in so long. Her nipples hardened and her sex softened, with a dull ache setting up in her core. Her fingers curled into his chest, and she shifted closer.

  The hand at her nape twisted, exerting control.

  She forgot how to breathe.

  He traced under her jaw, holding her in place, nipping her chin. Then he hovered, his mouth over hers.

  Please, please, please.

  She held her breath, not moving, her eyelids fluttering closed.

  His tongue licked one corner of her mouth and then the other. She moaned and moved closer into him. He teased her mouth, drawing out the anticipation, keeping her on the edge.

  “Jax,” she whispered, so much need coursing through her she couldn’t think.

  That quickly, he unleashed himself on her. Deep and fierce, he took her mouth, driving her head back against his hand. Somehow he shifted them so she straddled his legs, and his free hand grabbed the waist of her jeans and pressed her down on his cock.

  Even through their clothing, she could feel his heat.

  She moaned into his mouth, both hands threading through his hair, her body gyrating against his. While she should hate him, really hate him for the callous way he’d treated her earlier, for the moment, all she could feel was pleasure. Lust overwhelmed her. She needed him to fill her. All the empty places, all the loneliness . . . he could fill her.

  The desperation, the earlier fight, the worldly devastation all disappeared in his kiss. In his overtaking her with something beyond mere passion.

 
He wrenched his mouth free and yanked her shirt over her head.

  Neon blue glowed against his olive-colored skin. She paused, her desire banked. For the moment, she’d actually forgotten.

  He inhaled, leaned down, and kissed the blue.

  Her heart, if that was what still beat there, turned over. For him.

  She opened her mouth to say something, anything, when his lips enclosed her nipple.

  She gasped, her hands tightening in his hair, her eyelids closing. He sucked. Hard. Nothing could’ve prevented the low moan that slid up her throat and into his hair. He found the other nipple and pinched.

  A mini-orgasm rocked through her.

  More. She wanted more. Her body moved of its own volition, her thighs clamping his, rubbing against him.

  He manacled her hips and stilled her, leaning back. “Decide now. You want this?”

  God, she did. It felt good. After so long, something felt good. She didn’t care about repercussions, and she had stopped thinking about tomorrows months ago. “Yes.” She tried to move again, but he kept her immobilized.

  He grabbed her hair and wrenched her head to the side, his gaze capturing hers. “This is fucking. Full bore, I’ll take you and make you come so hard you’ll forget the world for a few minutes. But that’s all it is. Not love, not forever, and not a way to manipulate me.” Dark red spun beneath his skin, highlighting the angles and deep hollows. His arms vibrated as if fighting his determination to hold back.

  She gulped down air, only partially listening, needing to move. So she nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “Fucking,” she breathed out. “Just that.”

  With the words, he changed. Not in an obvious way, but his tension exploded out, and his eyes darkened. With promise and something darkly male.

  Standing, he kept her straddling him, his hands cupping her butt. He squeezed fresh bruises.

  Pain and then fierce need cascaded through her, throwing her headfirst into a desire hot enough to incinerate. His responding grin held so much sin she blinked, captivated by the raw handsomeness that was Jax Mercury.

  For the moment, however brief, he was hers.