Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3) (12 page)

“I’m not leaving you, Michael. I can’t, I thought I could do it but I just can’t.” Becca hiccoughed, adding in a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

The ghostly growl filled his mind.

“Fuck you
,
Sir
.
”

Becca inhaled sharply.

Michael felt the pressure inside explode and his world went black.

Chapter 9

“Do you want to tell me what that was back there?”

Becca met Ryan’s green eyes in the rearview mirror and shrugged. “I don’t know that I can. You should really ask Michael.” Her hands cradled Michael’s face where it rested on her lap. Considering there was no warmth to his flesh, none of the human signs of life, she was left to wonder if he would wake or if Black had done irreparable harm. She stroked one pale cheek and he stirred, barely. She needed something to do, a distraction. “Do we have any wet wipes in the glove box?”

He gave her a look she chose to ignore, staring instead at the city lights as they streaked past. “You can fix your makeup when we get back.”

“It’s for the blood.” Her fingers pushed back a lock of his black hair. If it weren’t for all the blood he might look peaceful.

Something changed in the car and Ryan voice, when he spoke again, was softer. “I think there’s a drug store up ahead. I’ll see what they’ve got.”

“Thanks, Ryan,” Becca answered quietly.

They pulled into the CVS parking lot a minute later.

“Need anything?”

“Just something to clean him up. Thanks.”

“Sure, Bec.” Ryan left the car running.

Foo Fighters was playing on the radio, too quiet to make out the words but she could guess them, she knew the tune. She figured out not only that song but the next, and the next, making a game of it, before Ryan came back. The plastic bag crinkled, the items within rattling as they settled on the leather passenger seat. Ryan got in and dug through it, handing back a few packages of wipes. “Here, take the bag for the dirty ones.” He fished out a plastic drink and handed it to her over the seat. “Water. You need it.” Another one crinkled as it went in his drink holder.

“Thank you.” Taking what he offered, she tore into the wipes without touching her water.

Becca cleaned Michael up using all of the packages of wipes, the last few sheets to clean her pink tinted fingers before she was done. Ryan cracked a window to help dissipate the strong baby powder smell, replacing it with fresh desert air. Los Angeles and its city scents were in their rearview mirrors. Resting a hand on Michael’s chest, Becca couldn’t find the comfort she sought.

“Kinda weird, isn’t it?” Ryan’s low voice reached her ears bringing her head up. “Them not having a heartbeat. It’s different.”

“Yeah.”

There was a long silence again before Becca felt like talking. When she did, it was quiet, knowing Ryan could hear her even over the sound of the wind rushing through the window. “Sometimes I miss the normal stuff; the heartbeat, the breathing, him being warm all the time. The sort of stuff you don’t realize you count on to tell if a guy’s mad or happy or whatever.” Her fingers splayed over his heart, waiting for the impossible. “If I could feel his heart, I’d know he was going to wake up.” Pain filled her voice and she met Ryan’s eyes in the mirror. “What if he doesn’t wake up? Can vampires suffer brain damage?”

He laughed, a short bark. “He’s still got his head and nobody set him on fire; this is nothing.” Then, gently, he added, “He’s strong, Becca. Whatever happened won’t cause any permanent damage. It looks worse than it is, trust me.”

They exchanged another look in the rearview and Becca gave a tight lipped smile before falling back into her own thoughts. Neither spoke another word until they returned to the ill-fit manor house in the desert. Upon arrival Ryan grabbed Michael and swung him over his shoulder, carried him up, and lay him on his bed. Becca moved alongside him and worked at his shoes while Ryan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

“You’re good for him, Bec.”

Part of her wanted to break at hearing that, but she kept at her task, setting his shoes beside the bed one at a time.

“Seriously, whatever happened out there, you can’t beat yourself up over it. Mike made a bad call trying to take you on the run, especially if he’s sick. But it’s good to see him alive like he is with you. I’ve never seen him like this before.” He snorted. “He’s sure as shit a lot more pleasant with you around even if he is all overprotective vamp sometimes.”

At that even Becca had to smile. “And you aren’t all territorial wolf sometimes?” She twisted her neck to catch Ryan grinning back. “I’m sorry about you and Gabs, Ryan. And I’m sorry tonight ended before you could, uh, get whatever you needed.” She eased her butt down next to Michael’s hip.

His grin faded and Ryan pushed off from the wall, dropping his arms. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“I know you’ll be fine. I wish you’d be happy.” She watched the pain flash in his eyes before he smiled and turned to leave.

“I’m going to check in with the admiral. I’ll let you know if you need to come down.”

She watched the door close behind him and turned back to Michael’s prone body, pulling the blanket from the foot of the bed over him. Trotting to her room, Becca changed into a pair of black sleep shorts and grey tee. If the admiral needed her tonight she could always throw her cargos on and head down. For now, all she wanted was to curl up next to the man she loved and pretend none of this was happening. When she got back to Michael’s room she flicked off the light, crawled in beside him, and pulled herself close. Sleep was a long time coming.

***

“Look at that, Captain Michael Rossi has himself a meat puppet. A cute one too.”

Becca blinked awake, feeling like she had the world’s worst hangover. Her field of vision was filled with a pair of pale green eyes the color of spring moss staring out of a caramel colored face, far
,
fa
r
too close for comfort. Instinctively she reared back until she was stopped by Michael’s cold, hard form behind her. Kinky hair easily a full inch too long for regulation sprang from his narrow head. Cold fear spread from the center of her stomach as Becca realized who she was looking at. Her shaky control over her sight wavered for a moment and her vision danced, then, almost without any conscious effort, her hold firmed and her vision cleared. The message remained: this man was dangerous. 

“Kenneth, I presume?” By some miracle she kept her voice steady.

“The puppet’s heard of me.” White teeth flashed in a chilling smile. “I wonder what she’s heard.” There was something wild in his eyes, a hint of something inhuman.

“Kenneth, knock it off.” Gabrielle’s typically annoyed and tired voice called from beside the door. “Becca’s one of us. You can’t screw with her.”

“Becca. So cute she even gets a nickname.”

The way he rolled her name around on his tongue, letting it settle somewhere in his chest made her feel like he’d touched her. She wanted to wash her mind.

The cold chest behind her vibrated against her ribcage. “Back off, Williams.”

Becca struggled to keep her joy and relief in lockdown. The sneer that twisted Kenneth’s features into a hateful mask immediately wiped it away as she sucked air through her teeth.

“Captain.” Kenneth stood up to his full height. By comparison to the other men in the unit he was small, easily several inches shorter than either Michael or Ryan. Becca hoped that meant, if it came to it, the others could control him. Secretly, she vowed to never be alone with him.

Michael didn’t move but the sound of his intake of breath to speak made Becca’s nose burn and her eyes wet. He was awake and aware, at least at first blush. She wished she could turn around and see with her own eyes that he was really alright. “Kenneth, you should know that Captain Sauter is off limits to you. She may be human, but Admiral Black brought her in for a reason. To harm her would be to offend the admiral. And me.”

Kenneth’s nostrils flared though he remained silent.

“We just got in,” Gabrielle was directly behind Kenneth and Becca couldn’t see her. “Kenny here was supposed to go to his room. He caught this one’s scent and followed his nose.” She took a step to the side to make eye contact with Becca, oddly intent upon reassuring her. “I was just explaining the same thing about Becca’s protected status, Michael. Kenny’s not going to touch her or the admiral will have him in silver before he can say boo.”

Fear washed over Kenneth’s stoic face.

“Then, I think we’re done here,” Michael stated firmly. “I’ll be down to the war room shortly. We can talk there.”

Recognizing his dismissal, Kenneth drew himself up to attention and snapped out a salute. “Sir, yes, Sir.” Automatically, Becca marked him as former Army given the double “Sir.” Spinning on his heel, he strode from the room. Gabrielle gave a stern nod, clearly unhappy, before she followed, shutting the door behind her.

Alone finally, Becca rolled over and popped up on an elbow. Her eyes eagerly scanned for lingering signs of injury or pain. He appeared fine. Pissed, but fine, as he regarded her from his back.

“Hey.”

Michael blinked. “Hey?”

She watched his mouth set in a firm line and felt her anger mounting. Given the ears that would be all too interested to hear them fighting, she whispered her harsh words. “Don’t you be mad at me, Michael Rossi. You wer
e
dying
.
I couldn’t watch you die for me, not when I can stop it.” Tears pricked her eyes. “Don’t ever ask me to do that.”

“Then how can you ask me to?” he replied evenly.

His words hit her like a punch to the gut. Her mouth gaped but nothing came out. Wha
t
coul
d
she say?

“Get dressed. We’ll be expected now that Williams is here, and I need to visit the fridge.”

Unable to think of anything useful to say, Becca rolled off and scuttled away to get dressed.

***

Admiral Black stood at the head of the table, lording over the quiet bunch. His apparent oblivion to the heavily charged emotional undercurrent certainly an act, Black never missed anything. Ryan and Gabrielle sat beside each other in their usual places, Becca next to Kenneth, and Michael at the foot of the table opposite Black. Becca fought the urge to squeeze into the far side of her chair or maybe listen from the hallway. Ripples of nausea slapped at her insides not far below the surface, letting her know if her grip on her sight wavered she would be on the ground, vulnerable to an attack from an all too eager vampire.

“Kenneth, welcome back,” the admiral began, his hands interlocked behind his back. “I’m sure you’ve already had a chance to reacquaint yourself with your old comrades.” He let his black eyes fall on Becca, giving her skin further reason to crawl. “And our newest member, Rebecca.” Leaving no chance for anyone to speak, not that anyone would, he went on. “Kenneth, I would assume you are wondering why you’ve been called back to duty after your extended leave.” Kenneth looked like he wanted to speak but he showed some wisdom and didn’t. “I would assume there are those among us who might have noticed the increasing frequency of our recent visits to Washington.” His eyes went again to Becca. It was fast but she could have sworn his lips twitched at her.

Was he freaking kidding? After nearly killing Michael, her lover and his own second in command, he was god damned smiling at her? Becca felt the top of her head threaten to lift off. A cold chuckle beside her reined her in. She couldn’t lose it in front of Williams. The less he knew of her weaknesses the better. Instead, she forced herself to relax into her chair and affect a benign expression.