Rayne wanted to sleep so badly. Curled in the arms of her best friend, sometimes-lover, she waited for sleep to take her at any moment. The issue?

Sheer. Terror.

If only she could go for a run. The speed, the freedom, and the everything left behind in her wake. Her wrapped broken ribs throbbed at the thought, and her sprained ankle put up its own protest. Although, the ankle was coming along pretty quickly. She managed not to limp until closer to the end of the day. The rest of the injuries mocked her in their slow return to normal. And scarred.

After seeing her brother off and wishing good luck to Matt and Lucy on their journey, she’d spent the rest of the day meeting Xelan’s people. Her people. Each one was hand-selected to run the private airline business Xelan had procured as a front for his operations. The employees were comprised of male and female military veterans with varying backgrounds and specialties. Most of them had picked up some kind of felony charge, preventing them from finding decent work by pre-invasion standards.

Colton, for instance, a tall man of color with warm brown eyes and a shaved head, had served as a decorated Captain in the U.S. Air Force. One reckless driving stop with the arresting officer planting some marijuana at the scene resulted in the impounding of his Ferrari and the inability to pay his fines. Jail time and one Class D felony charge later, the Air Force court-martialled him with slim job options and no voting rights. Pre-Iona, Colton had repaired structural damages and defects in planes, cars, and even big S.W.A.T. ATVs. At Iona, he supervised the entire Mechanical-Engineering department. He promised to teach Rayne how to drive stick one day if she taught him how to fight with a sword. He might not be aware of it, but she got the better end of that deal.

Six might become Rayne’s new personal hero. At an even six foot tall, the twenty-nine-year-old woman towered over most of the men, Icari excluded. When Rayne asked how it affected her dating life, the brunette explained her husband stood at shoulder height, and they managed just fine. Six operated the control tower. She didn’t offer Rayne rank or designation. She said the people who’d recruited her never assigned one. She filed a sexual harassment case against a member of her unit and found herself booted on the street with no stream of income. Any place she put applications in, including gyms or sports/outdoor stores, never returned her calls. Xelan found her filling out applications at a kiosk at Lowe’s. He said one word to her. Just one word. And she went with him to check out Iona.

Rayne had asked, “What was it?”

Of course, Six wouldn’t give it up. Instead, she glanced at Rayne’s bad arm and said, “You remind me of myself when I was younger.” Six’s tone wasn’t entirely neutral. Something heavy weighed down her words, but Rayne couldn’t place if it was sadness or nostalgia or fear. The long-haired athletic woman had returned to her duties as a plane came in for landing, and Rayne excused herself.

Smith looked exactly as Rayne had expected him to look: average. Average height, average build, medium brown hair, and tan skin. There wasn’t an extraordinary thing about the man, save for his eyes. Empty brown pools. Nothing there. Nobody home. Rayne had spoke to Smith for a half-hour, and he’d looked through her the entire time. When she asked about his background, he said, “I committed a major crime five years ago.” When she pushed, he said, “If you can guess, I’ll tell you how I did it.” So, she had wandered away from the Weapons department to Training and Recruitment, racking her brain for famous crimes around 2001.

Cypher headed T&R on Xelan’s authority as the first lucky hire for the installation. He was twenty-six-years-old, about five inches taller than Rayne, with short blond hair and the light dusting of a beard. She would rate Cypher at about a seven on the hot-for-a-human scale. Not bad for Little Rock, for sure. Then she spent a little time with him in the waning hours of the afternoon. He graduated to a solid nine. She’d stared into his hazel eyes too long on more than one occasion.

Like when Cypher described how he’d met Xelan, Rayne had almost missed the entire story. “…Flooring the place. Gray slate seemed a little unusual, but it’s not my place to say anything. When the foreman came in and took my lunch hour away expecting Wingmaster to give him a bonus for finishing faster, Xelan appeared a few minutes later and offered me a job here.

“It turned out he’d been tracking me for months. Xelan knew my entire background. I started to leave the interview because it was just too weird; you know? But he said the exact right thing to convince me to stay. And to fight. To help you.”

Cypher caught Rayne staring then, and she broke eye contact to peer at the sunset. She’d said, “I have to do something.”

“You’ll save the world,” he said with absolute certainty. That was something they all shared in common. Xelan had instilled in them this almost fanatical confidence in Rayne’s ability to complete the mission.

She took her eyes off the sunset to peek down at her messed up arm and gritted her teeth. Rayne would save the world. “Even if I die doing it.”

Sagan had interrupted them to call for dinner. Rayne promised to visit again soon and tried not to read too much into Cypher’s lingering gaze. Anyone not on security rotations ate dinner together in an actual mess hall.

Rayne had grabbed a dinner tray and stuck with Sagan through the line. Kyle found her within twenty seconds of entering the room. She expected it to take less than that.

Kyle murmured, “This is just like lunch at school.”

Andrew popped up behind him. “Great, now I won’t be able to look at it without thinking about your cafeteria. Thanks.”

Sagan groaned. “Why did you even go there?”

“Move out of the way if you’re not hungry.” Tameka arrived with the biggest grin on her face Rayne had ever seen. It was infectious. Rayne and Sagan wanted her to spill the beans, but they could wait until it was just the three of them.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

From behind, Lynn asked, “Are we allowed to stand in line with you guys?” She and Pablo looked hesitant to join them.

Rayne’s smile broadened. Her people. “Of course, why would you even ask?”

Pablo glanced beyond them, and Rayne’s Shadow turned around. The entire cafeteria stopped and stared at them. Some people stopped mid-bite. Other people were sitting down. Colton and Six sat at the table closest to them. They kept their heads down in their food, but still spared a glance at Rayne and her people.

It was so intimidating.

Sagan whispered to Tameka, “Don’t they know we’re normal?”

Andrew shook his head. “We’re not. None of us should be able to walk, and Rayne…”

Rayne glanced at him and implored him with her eyes not to finish the sentence. Body bag summed it up.

In the very back of the crowd, Caedes watched the scene unfold. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were narrowed. Rayne suspected he was getting something from this alienation, but she couldn’t decipher it.

The Shadow Progeny collected their servings of food from the warmer: salad, roll, grilled chicken breast, and steamed vegetables.

Kyle asked, “This is it? Xelan put all that time and money put into this place, and we get hospital food?”

Tameka shushed him. “Be grateful you’re getting to eat at all. Entire cities were wiped off the face of the Earth, and you’re bitching about the fare.”

“Not now,” Rayne muttered, and Tameka swallowed her next statement. “We need to spread out and get to know people. What do you guys think of Caedes?”

Lynn stated, “Bad guy.”

Andrew agreed. “Definitely.”

Sagan and Pablo nodded.

John said, “He’s into Tameka.”

Every girl snapped their head in his direction, and Tameka’s face twisted. She began, “What makes—”

“Completely. He doesn’t take his eyes off you when you’re in the room,” Kyle pointed out.

Andrew said, “I didn’t want to be the first to mention it, but yeah. He seems to have a thing for you. I don’t trust whatever his motivations are.” His face was lined with concern.

Rayne swallowed and said, “You remember Xelan’s first rule of covert operations?”

Sagan and Tameka nodded. The rest stared, puzzled, and waited for the explanation. Sagan rolled her eyes and recited, “‘Girls, play to your strengths.’”

Pablo frowned.

Lynn laughed so hard she snorted.

Tameka groaned and admitted, “I don’t think Xelan would like this plan.”

Rayne guessed that was true for more than a few reasons.

Kyle said, “Do you need his permission now to get the job done? We need intel on Caedes’ group, and you’re the best player for the part. But go ask daddy first—”

Tameka broke away from the group in a sassy saunter. She passed the tables of people pretending to eat, sneaking glances at her as she moved by. She approached the Icarus at the back, his eyes never left her. Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. Whatever Tameka had said got the brooding alien to smile and offer her a seat at the table nearby. He joined her as she ate, and they engaged in conversation.

“Too easy,” Kyle said.

Rayne reassured, “She can handle herself.”

Pablo said, “You guys are involved in some wild ass shit.”

Lynn added, “Look in the mirror,” before walking into the collection of tables. She sat one row up from Tameka with some technicians in coveralls. As Rayne suspected he would, Pablo followed her. He took a seat at the opposite end of the table and peeked over at his girl.

Sagan mumbled, “The boy’s got it bad.”

Rayne nodded in agreement.

Andrew assured, “I got Colton’s group.”

“I’ll go with you. Do you think one of them will teach me how to fly a plane?” John and Andrew took their trays and joined the men and women responsible for running the machines in the facility. Only a moment after Andrew sat down, Lucas scooted to sit across from Andrew at the table. His permanent smile was centered on his rather handsome, masculine face, keeping the gold in his eyes molten at all times. Andrew gave his attention to another crew member, so he’d missed it, but Lucas peered at him with curiosity.

Interesting.

“And then there were three,” Rayne said.

Sagan snickered. “You’re so dramatic. I’ll get Training and Recruitment. Are you sitting with Rayne, Kyle?”

Kyle surprised them both with a shake of his head. “There’s a cute chick in Shipping & Receiving.” He nodded toward the short-haired young woman in the very back of the room. “I might have a chance with it being the end of the world and all. You guys have fun.” He left with Rayne and Sagan exchanging a look. Maybe the attachment could disappear altogether.

“Will you be okay?” Sagan asked.

“Yeah, go on. It’s just dinner.” Rayne assured her with a smile. Sagan broke off and sat with Cypher’s team.

The entire room stared at Rayne with only a few distracted by talking with her friends. She wanted to try for personable, make friends and learn their names. Leadership by kindness since her battered body wouldn’t exactly instill confidence in her fighting abilities.

Rayne found a spot with Frullop’s people on the security squad. She smiled at the two gentlemen across from her. “Hi, I’m Rayne.”

A dark-haired man glared at her as he snatched up his tray and exited the room. She followed him with her gaze and found Xelan standing in the doorway watching the entire show.

Rayne frowned. This wasn’t really what she had in mind. Her favorite Icarus grabbed a tray and sat with Colton and Six, decidedly away from her. She appreciated the space and opportunity to shine as a leader on her own.

For the next half-hour, Rayne exchanged training stories and backgrounds. Several of the group introduced themselves with names like Ryan, Mina, and Scott. Their names were not half as cool as Xelan’s soldiers, and their origin stories appeared more pedestrian. What kind of people was Frullop recruiting? None of them had military or criminal backgrounds. Just ordinary civilians.

Despite Rayne’s initial concerns, she enjoyed their company throughout dinner. Hence the dread creeping in after she climbed into bed.

Every one of them relied on Rayne to save the world, and she was too scared to sleep.

Rayne peeled Sagan’s arm from her. Her sleeping bestie mumbled, “Where are you going?”

“Go back to sleep. I’m just going to the bathroom,” Rayne whispered.

Sagan wrapped herself into a blanket burrito. “Hurry back. It’s cold.” She grumbled on about Icari liking their air conditioning.

Rayne’s body warmed at the sight, and she smiled.

Sagan relied on her, too.

Rayne winced at the unwelcome reminder and left the room. After a visit to the toilets, she padded around the facility in her bare feet. Not allowed to run, she explored, instead.

When Rayne found herself in the gym, she groaned. This was her space, and playing was not an option. She stared down at the surgical glue over her stitches in her right palm. It seemed flexible enough.

Rayne stepped over to the pull-up bars and recalled her pitiful attempts to reach them the night before. If she managed one pull up she was fit to save the world. She’d even limit herself to a reverse grip to make it easier. She grabbed a two-foot box-jump stand and placed it under the bars. Climbing on top proved a little unsteady but doable. Her ribs protested against the word ‘doable.’

Curling her fingers around the bar, she tested the glue and stitches. It pulled. Probably not a good thing.

Fuck it.

Rayne lent her weight into her grip and dropped off the stand. It fell over, but no matter. With a deep, painful inhale through the nose, she relied on her right arm to pull her entire weight up to the bar. She’d made it halfway when the tug from her palm escalated from uncomfortable to ‘holy fuck that hurt.’

Then Rayne’s grip slipped a little. She pushed through the pain, and bunched her brach and bicep, encouraging them to do their fucking job. Her chin lifted high above the bar. She took one glorious second to enjoy the moment. Then she noticed the blood dripping from her hand and fell.

Sucking back most of her pride, Rayne cried out for help.