{July 2006}

Lynn loaded an M16 magazine full of bullets as she waited for Tumu’s voice to respond on the Icarean comms device. He returned a week ago to Iona-30 in Toronto without the Shadow Progeny and unaware as to their status or location.

John tried again. “Thirty, this is Pride. I repeat, is Officer of the Third within transmission range? Over.” His umber eyes stared at the system, willing a response. His russet complexion, high cheekbones, and carved jawline hinted at his Osage heritage. He bounced his bad leg, the prosthetic rocking in his boot.

Lynn locked eyes with Pablo over the comm system. She disliked this entire situation. Her broken ankle in the brace ached with the stress of it. Why the hell did Tumu take so long? Didn’t he realize the fate of the world hung on the fate of the Shadow?

Bunkered down in Xelan’s hide-out outside YellowStone National Park, Ambush and Pride team struggled to reclaim Iona-29 from the Cult of Night freaks. Affectionately referred to as CoN douchebags. Six watched the security monitors with a headset over her brunette hair and one ear dedicated to the conversation. Cypher and Caedes guarded the perimeter outside, checking the traps and signal flares. The two defected Icari on Caedes’ Ambush team, Bones and Teeth, assisted in setting up the traps.

They had her to thank for the monikers. Before, when asked for their names, they spouted off some long serial number. She made a point to get to know them at least until CoN soldiers captured Teeth during their attempt last week. Now Bones kept to himself, hungry for vengeance.

And she understood exactly how he felt. If anything happened to her friends on Cinder—

She jumped when Pablo’s dusky hand landed on her bare, sable shoulder. His distracting full lips lifted in a soft smile, and his rich brown eyes shone with hope and love. Her optimist. Keyword: hers. They never found time to express it in the physical sense. Living arrangements in the cabin passed for communal. No real bedrooms. A large bathroom with spacious showers but no stalls. He promised to arrange something in the woods for them, but shortly after, news broke of the Shadow’s missed rendezvous. The atmosphere around the cabin grew hectic to say the least.

Six spoke up after the pressure in the room threatened to pop their ears, “I don’t like this. Why doesn’t—”

“Fucking finally!” Sagan cried. She walked straight out of thin air with Tameka in tow.

Lynn hopped out of her skin and into Pablo’s arms with a “Yip!”

The entire household stood in alarm. Chairs clattered to the floor. No one said a word. Sagan and Tameka glanced around the room. They looked like hell. Sagan’s blond hair all dirty and matted. Her violet eyes shifted in a pale face smudged with grime. Tameka’s red hair needed some hydration and detangling. Her green eyes stood out in stark relief against freckled, topaz cheeks. Both girls wore layers of rags which covered every square inch of skin aside from their face.

Tameka broke the silence first. “I need on the comms.” She took three steps to the device and, with a hand that shook, reached for the microphone from John.

He gave it over without hesitation.

She peered back at Sagan. The blond woman nodded and stepped up beside her. They gripped each other’s hand. “I’m right here.”

“I’ll get you some water,” Pablo offered and rushed off to the sink. Lynn’s man was useful and considerate as always.

Tameka’s voice trembled as she said, “Give me the ‘all channels’ option, John.” After a rough swallow, she added, “Please.” Grim and exhausted, she avoided eye contact but took the glass Pablo offered with a grateful nod.

What fresh hell were they about to announce? What would haunt Tameka’s eyes so? A horrific thought occurred to Lynn. A lump formed in her throat. She glanced at Pablo who stared at the other women with wide eyes.

The room took a collective breath as she raised the mic. “All teams. This is Alpha Progeny Three. We have a worst case scenario. Beta Progeny One: Captured. Alpha Progeny One: Captured—” The gasps around the room interrupted her. She heaved a shaking breath and continued on a sob. Sagan threw an arm around the redhead’s shoulders. “Wingmaster: Down. I repeat.” She choked on her tears. “Wingmaster: Down. Over and Out.”

No…

Tameka dropped the microphone and clung to Sagan. The sobs wrenched from her heart and brought tears to Lynn’s eyes. The other woman rubbed soothing circles on her back even while crying into her hair.

Stunned, the room stared at them. How could Xelan die? Rayne and Kyle captured?

Stolen novel; please report.

Caedes burst into the cabin followed by Cypher and Bones. He stared straight at Tameka weeping against Sagan. In a horrified breath, he cried, “No.”

At least everyone was on the same wavelength. An awful, shitfest of a wavelength.

The comms system came to life. Tumu’s deep Tritan voice replied on the ‘all channels’ frequency, “Not all is lost.”

{August 2006}

As Lynn helped Pablo finish stocking the hospital sans ankle boot, she reflected on the events over the last few weeks. Their lives shifted and tumbled like rocks caught in a mudslide. Iona’s Refuge finally opened thanks to the entire group pitching in, even Caedes. Pablo shared with Lynn many times how he wanted to establish a civilian infirmary. They erected it in an R.V. park not far from the cabin. Four patients turned up from campsites around the forested area within the first week.

Tameka and Sagan drove up on an ATV with more water and bandages. Both wore “August in the Rockies” chic: bikinis and cut-off shorts. Same as Lynn. The heat afforded few other options. Sweat shone on their varying skin tones as they tanned and freckled in the sun. What little of it that filtered through Nox’s Sphere.

The Tritan and his guest rode passenger on the land vehicle. Tumu arrived within a day of Tameka’s message. He brought one of the allies Rayne requested.

A prison warden on some planet called Gait, Pehton disdained the “pitiful state” of the humans’ operation. “How can you expect them to work with this? They need weapons, Tumu.”

“The Tribunal refused.” As usual, his voice carried so much depth Lynn’s head wanted to pop. Walking around in a compression suit which contained his height from sixty-five feet to thirteen, the slim milky-blue Gargantuan Tritan took in every detail of the hospital with large colorless eyes. He winked one at Lynn. She cracked a smile.

“Well fuck ‘em. How are we supposed to operate out of this hovel?! We—”

Oh. Shit.

Tameka interrupted Pehton with ice in her voice, “This ‘hovel’ was Xelan’s. It’s a backup facility to our captured compound East of here which we will reclaim without your help I guess because all you want to do is bitch.” The young woman’s eyes shone like green glass. Lynn recognized it as a warning sign for the opposition to back off.

Pehton looked less human than an Icarus but more so than a Tritan. Pitch black skin, red eyes, and orange feathers for hair, she wrapped bands of blue-dyed leather over her breasts, hips, and coiled around her legs like pants. Exotic didn’t cover it. More orange feathers emerged from her wrists to her elbows. They flared when she became angry. Like now.

The lithe woman took a deep breath and shook her head. The feathers on her head rustled like flames. “I didn’t come here to fight you. I understand you’re grieving your mentor—”

“Soulmate. He was my soulmate.” Tameka corrected with a hitch in her breath. “And you insulted a shelter he established for us in case anything went wrong with our main facility. He was smart. He thought ahead. We are aware of how much his loss has handicapped us.”

Lynn winced and glanced over at Pablo who watched the action, transfixed. If she lost him, how much would it suck to inform people of that loss? Best not dwell on it.

Tameka continued, “That’s why you’re here. I don’t want to fight with you, either. We need your help, but you can shove your help up the ass of the planet you came from if you just plan to complain about our limitations and expect me to sit here without getting defensive.”

Sagan appeared at her side and kissed the top of her twisted hair. The axe, ever-present on her slender hip, gleamed. Both girls glared back at Pehton and Tumu with unbridled rage.

Gait’s Warden replied with one word. “Fire.”

Tumu grinned. Odd way to describe an expression on an alien without lips, but that was the only word for it.

Sagan and Tameka stared. “Excuse me?”

“That’s all you need to impress me.” Pehton sniffed the air. “That grief your people bear stifles your military potential. Casualties happen in war, and often, the best go first. That’s why they’re on the front line. But you’re made of fire and power, Tameka. Turn that pain outward and raze your enemies to the ground. You’ll be just fine.” She turned to Tumu, “I’ll communicate with the rest and obtain their price. It might be high considering how much help is required.”

Tumu nodded seven feet down at her. “The humans are prepared to pay it.”

“Good.” Pehton smiled with black lips at Tameka, her sharp teeth white and brilliant. “I’ll stick around and help where I can.”

“Will you help rescue Rayne?” Sagan asked, hopeful.

She shook her head. “I am not well-liked on Cinder and stand out in a covert operation. We’ll brainstorm some ideas.”

Sagan stepped away from Tameka and joined Pehton on a walk behind the hospital.

Tameka whispered something to Tumu before they broke off and walked on a trail.

Lynn said, “The fate of the human race rests on that mess.”

Pablo chuckled. “I think we’ll be all right.”

She stayed quiet.

He noticed. “Hand me that box of gauze and tell me what you’re thinking while you’re at it.”

The scent of his “shower fresh” bodyspray working overtime in the August heat soaked into her. She handed him the box and admired his ass in those scrubs as he stretched on the step stool to reach the highest shelf. “I want to fuck you.”

He swore as the box tumbled and bounced off his head.

She burst into a fit of laughter.

As he stepped off the stool, he put his hands on his hips. “Not that it isn’t constantly on my mind, but what brought this up?”

Sorting a case of supplies for storage, she pretended to focus on the labels. “Tameka and…” She couldn’t say the fallen Icarus’ name.

Pablo stepped behind her and threaded his arms around her waist. Lynn leaned back onto his solid frame.

“I know it seems impossible with how crowded and open the cabin is, but I don’t want to go another day without—”

Soft lips pressed against the sensitive bend of her neck, and she refused to stifle the purr. “Leave it.” A soft kiss. “To me.” Another soft kiss.

Lynn’s toes curled as his hands went to her hips. The kissing came to include little licks then he sucked languidly, drawing it out. She reached behind to thread her fingers into his overgrown curls. He pulled her back to him and ground against her denim short-cladded ass. He wanted her. She almost cried out until she heard Sagan and Pehton return.

The moment dissolved. They stopped. Pablo stayed close and whispered a promise against Lynn’s ear. “Leave it to me.”