Prisoner (Werewolf Marines) (20 page)

I was so embarrassed, I thought my face would
burst into flames. I jumped up.

Roy looked at me over the book and said, “Sit
down, DJ. If I read aloud, I get to read without you pestering me,
and you get to hear a great story. Win-win. And since your hands
aren’t occupied, you can clean the SAW while you listen.”

I got the SAW and sat back down. Roy started
reading. It took months, but he read me that whole book. When he
finished it, he started another one.

He was right that no one hassled me about
being dyslexic. First it was because he had my back, but eventually
it was because they saw I could do my job anyway. I’ve never had to
read in a combat situation, by the way.

He was right about the combat stress, too. It
didn’t hit me as hard the second time. The third time, I was just
tired and went to sleep along with everybody else.

Eventually the electricity situation
improved. We got our iPods and so forth back, and I started playing
Roy music. But I never listened to audiobooks when he was around.
Every book he read while we were deployed together, he read aloud
so I could read it too.

Chapter Ten: Echo

The Replacement

If Echo had known how DJ’s story was going to
end, she never would have asked him to tell it. She had to deploy
all her bio-control to stop from crying.

“Hey.” DJ tilted his head back, looking her
over. Pinpoints of reflected light shone in his dark eyes as he
brushed her cheek with a fingertip. His touch was so light and warm
that she briefly thought a tear had overflowed after all. “What did
I say?”

She relaxed her throat and breathed until her
voice could come out steady. “My sisters and I used to read to each
other.”

“Do you still?”

“No. Charlie and I don’t have the same
tastes. It used to not matter because Brava and I could tease
Charlie about her raven-haired heroes, and she and Della could
tease me about how I always picked books where something exploded
every few pages, and so forth.”

“Now that I know, my next story will have
more explosions,” DJ said cheerfully. “You can make a mini-bomb out
of the heating element in the packaged meals we got. I used to have
lots of fun with those.”

Echo smiled, letting him distract her. “How
did you like the rabbit book? What
was
the rabbit book?”

“It was
Watership Down
, and I liked it
a lot. But my favorite parts weren’t the battle scenes, they were
the ones that described what it was like to be a rabbit. I honestly
wonder if the guy who wrote it was a rabbit shifter. It felt so
real. Not that I know what it’s like to be a rabbit.”

“Were there any other shifters in your unit?”
Echo asked.

“Not that I ever figured out. For a while I
was convinced Roy was secretly a wolf. I tried dropping phrases
wolves would know into conversations, but he never picked up on any
of it. In a lot of ways he was a better wolf than me, except he
couldn’t shift.”

“What makes a good wolf?” Echo asked.

“Courage. Loyalty. Selflessness. Instinct.
Respect for tradition, respect for your elders, respect for your
alpha. And above all, pack. Your pack is your life. You live for
your pack and you die for your pack. That’s Roy. Except he had a
platoon instead.”

“Do you know how’s he doing?”

The energy seemed to drain out of DJ. “Not so
great. Dr. Semple showed me some video. It had gone through some
encryption process. The light was weird. Flickering. But otherwise,
it was clear. A nurse was changing his bandages.”

“How did he look?”

“His wounds were healing. But he’d lost a lot
of weight. He lay there and stared at the ceiling. The nurse talked
to him, but he barely even responded. When she was finished, she
left him alone. The look in his eyes— I wanted to reach through the
screen and put my hand on his shoulder. He’s lost everything he
cares about, he’s all alone, and he doesn’t even know I’m trying to
find him.”

He sounded desolate. Echo looked at him
sharply. Fucking feelings, but she had to ask. “How are
you
doing?”

“I’m not doing so great, either,” he
confessed. “Justin’s dead and Roy’s in bad shape and I’m still
stuck here. I don’t know why I’m not bouncing off the walls from
combat stress.”

“You didn’t kill anyone,” Echo suggested.

“I didn’t save anyone, either.”

“Sure you did. People were trapped in the
cafeteria. What do you think Match would have done to them if you
hadn’t grabbed him?”

His mood seemed to lift a fraction. “Thanks,
Echo. That makes me feel better. You must have saved people,
too.”

DJ put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed,
pressing on her tense muscles until they loosened under his
fingers. “I’m sorry about Brava. And Althea and Della. I’ve lost
people too, people who were like family. Listen, I have to get some
rest— I’m dead on my feet— but if you need me, I’ll be right here.
If I’m asleep, you can shake me. It doesn’t startle me. And I don’t
mind.”

Echo couldn’t imagine herself shaking him or
anyone awake to say, “I need you.” But before she could say so,
he’d let go of her shoulder, stumbled to his bed, and dropped on it
like he’d been stunned.

He seemed to fall asleep immediately, lying
on his stomach with his back exposed, his hands open and relaxed.
His face was turned to the side, his lips barely parted, his
eyelashes long and black. He was still wearing the white T-shirt
he’d fought in, with smooth brown skin showing through the rips
where Match had nearly clawed it off his body. There were a few
spots of dried blood at his side; his burn scar must have torn open
again. Echo could hear his breathing, rhythmic and deep.
Peaceful.

It unnerved her to think how easily he could
be taken by surprise. He’d even been reckless enough to reveal that
he slept so deeply that he wouldn’t wake unless he was shaken.

Maybe he was so exhausted that he’d neglected
his usual precautions. Or maybe he and Roy had watched over each
other for so long that DJ had forgotten that Roy wasn’t there to
guard him any more. If that was it, Echo hated to leave him
unprotected. Maybe she should keep watch for him, like she had when
he’d had heat stroke.

She shook her head fiercely, driving out
those ridiculous thoughts. His safety was his responsibility, not
hers.

Echo turned off the lights, then belatedly
looked into the infrared to check for new bugs in the walls. She
found none. DJ glowed with warmth a few feet away, his bare skin
crimson and his body beneath his clothes a darker red, like blood
from a vein.

She lay on her back and controlled her
breathing into a pre-sleep rhythm. DJ could let his guard down all
he liked, but if anyone tried to break in, Echo would be ready for
them. She’d wake in a flash and be on them before they even saw her
coming. No one would get past her to where DJ slept so soundly.

***

The next morning, the first sight to meet
Echo’s eyes was DJ, asleep atop the covers and curled on his side
with his arms held tight to his chest. Huddled, as if he was
cold.

She got up, rummaged in a closet, and draped
a quilt over him. He shifted in his sleep, pulling it around
himself. Echo couldn’t help smiling. He looked so cozy. If she lay
down beside him, he’d probably reach for her the same way, tugging
her close to his body.

She’d touched him enough, and seen enough of
him shirtless, to imagine what that would feel like. His muscles
would be firm against her body, his skin smooth and warm. If she
laid her head against his shoulder, his clipped hair would be soft
against her cheek. His restless hands could squeeze the tension out
of her back and shoulders, as he had so briefly done the night
before.

The scar on his side was new and fragile
enough that it might still be painful to a careless touch. She’d
have to ask him about it before she put her arms around him, so
she’d be sure not to hurt him by accident. That was a bad place to
be burned, and its sheer size made it a critical injury. Even with
his werewolf healing, he must have come very close to death. It had
to be a bad memory.

In that case, she wouldn’t ask about it, but
would simply avoid touching it. She’d rest her arm above it, and
reach around to caress the elegant curve of his shoulder blade, the
perfect skin of his back…

She pulled herself up short, cutting off the
fantasy. It alarmed her that she’d had it at all. It wasn’t so much
the sexual aspect as the tenderness. Sex was nothing. It was a
physical need, like hunger, though thankfully one that didn’t need
to be satisfied so often. When she wanted sex, she drove into Las
Vegas, went to a bar or casino, selected an attractive man, gave
him a false name, had sex in a hotel room, and left as soon as it
was done.

The sex itself might be rough or gentle,
depending on her mood. But the man was only the delivery mechanism.
He didn’t matter to her, and she took care to chat just enough
beforehand to make sure that he wouldn’t try to make himself
matter. Having sexual feelings for someone she saw as a person— a
man who had told her stories, fought against her and at her side,
slept within hand’s reach of her, joked with her, confided in her,
trusted her— was new and disturbing.

Echo took a quick, cold shower, threw on some
clothes, and nearly ran to her— to Charlie’s— apartment.

To her relief, Charlie was there, in a fuzzy
pink bathrobe and brushing out her hair.

“What do you think of DJ?” Echo demanded.

Charlie’s eyebrows flew upward.
“
You’ve
had an interesting night.”

“Not like that,” Echo said, heat rising to
her face. “He told me some war stories.”

“War stories, huh?” Charlie snickered.

“Not like that
,
” Echo repeated,
annoyed. “Don’t be a pain. I want to know what you think of
him.”

“You’ve seen much more of him than I have.
You tell me.”

“I want your take on him. You understand
people better than I do.”

Charlie’s lips pressed together as if she
planned to go to her death without speaking. Finally, she said, “I
have an opinion, but you’re not going to like it.”

“It’s fine if you hate him,” Echo assured
her. “I don’t care.”

Her sister gave a bitter laugh. “It’s working
already. You didn’t say, ‘it’s fine if you like him.’”

“Charlie, what is with you? It’s fine either
way.”

“He seemed nice,” Charlie said grudgingly.
“Funny. I’m glad I’m not rooming with him, because all that energy
of his would wear me out. But I liked him. And Michelle said he
knocked himself out trying to save Justin, so…” She sighed. “I
think he’s a good guy.”

Echo waited for more, but that appeared to be
all her sister had to say. “Is that it? What was the big deal,
then? Why shouldn’t I like it if you think he’s nice?”

Charlie put her hand over Echo’s. “Why do you
think they’re throwing you two together?”

“They think I’m careless and reckless, and I
need someone to keep me in line.”

Charlie’s veil of platinum hair rippled as
she shook her head. “That’s not it. I mean, that’s true, but that’s
not why they’re pushing him on you. You really don’t see it?”

“No,” Echo snapped. “Just tell me. You’re
making me feel stupid.”

Charlie looked abashed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean
to. Echo, they gave you a nice guy because they want you to like
him. They gave you a trustworthy partner because they want you to
trust him. They gave you a playful guy because they know you’ve
missed that since Brava died. And it’s working. Before all hell
broke loose in the cafeteria, I saw the two of you smacking each
other in the ribs and grinning like you were on the best date
ever.”

“They’re trying to set us up?” Echo asked,
bewildered. “Why?”

“Not like that. Or not necessarily like
that.” Charlie’s hand closed over Echo’s. “They want you to get
attached to someone other than me. Because otherwise, there’ll be
no power on Earth that can keep you here after I die.”

“Don’t talk like that!”

An angry pink line drew itself across
Charlie’s cheekbones. “Why shouldn’t I? Denial doesn’t make you
live longer. I’m dying, and he’s my replacement.”

Echo wrenched her hand free and jumped up.
Her heart was pounding, and she didn’t bother to control it. “Fuck
him! Who cares about him? No one can ever replace you. And you’re
not dying!”

Charlie snatched up her cane and stood, her
gaze like blue flame. “What are you going to do when I die, Echo? I
know you’ve thought about it.”

“I haven’t!”

“You have!” Charlie yelled. “You’re going to
do as much damage as you can before they kill you, Echo!
Right?”

Echo forced her heart rate back to normal
levels. “So what if I am?”

“So I don’t want you to commit suicide on my
behalf! You know what, Mr. Dowling had the right idea. You
should
get attached to someone else, if you can’t get it
together to live for yourself!” Charlie was trembling with anger,
her breathing shallow, her face bright red.

“Your heart,” Echo hurriedly reminded her.
“Your breathing!”

Charlie sank back down in the chair. The
color faded from her face as she controlled her nervous system.

Echo waited till she was sure her sister was
out of danger before she spoke. “Thanks for being honest.”

Charlie sighed. “I’m already regretting
it.”

Echo stroked Charlie’s fine hair. “You’re
probably right. I mean about what Mr. Dowling’s trying to do. But
it won’t work. DJ won’t be around long enough for me to get
attached. Once he finds out where they’re holding his buddy, he’s
making a break for it. I promised I’d let him.”

Charlie twisted her head around to stare at
Echo, her mouth open wide enough for something to fly in. She was
probably worried that Echo was being reckless again.