Page 19 of He is… Creed: Part Three

“No risk, no reward,” I say, lost in my obsession with this woman and the power she represents.

She offers me a tiny smile that I feel in the twitch of my cock. “My philosophy, exactly.” She holds the syringe up and taps it. “Ready?”

“I was born ready.”

“I’ll bet you were.” She taps the syringe once more. “But we’ll talk about the side effects a little later.”

Something about her words hit me wrong. Wasn’t that normally discussed beforehand? But it was too late for questions. She leans forward and injects me, ice stabbing at my veins. Darkness follows.

Chapter Twenty

Creed

Addie’s sickness comes back with fury.

After forty minutes of darting from one hotel bathroom to the next, we finally load up in a Range Rover that the Renegades left at a designated spot.

Three hundred miles of stormy weather and dark highways later, Addie’s resting on the seat next to me, her blonde hair draped over the cushion as she slumbers—hair I know feels like silk and smells like honeysuckle. I want her more than I want a next breath, and that desire, that want for her, can lead her nowhere good.

At our first stopping point, I pull us off the highway to a remote storage facility, where we’ll exchange the SUV for a motorcycle—no doubt a rough ride for Addie in her present condition. What I wouldn’t do to windwalk her the rest of the way or even airlift her, but neither is an option.

Windwalking would kill her.

Airlifting meant helicopter, and helicopters could be shot down.

I park behind the unit, and Addie doesn’t so much as murmur a sound, knocked out from far too many hours of misery. I exit the vehicle, open the door to the unit, and drive us inside, and still she sleeps.

It’s the lifebonding illness. The black eyes, the sickness—it all adds up, and the first thing we’re doing in Sunrise City is figuring out how to fix it. How to stop it from happening.

I will not let our bond be the end of her, and the danger of transporting her through the canyon that leads to Sunrise City drives that point home. Her life will not be about war. I want her back in Germany, safe and happy. No, I think. No, that is not what I really want. What I really want is her in bed with me, beneath me. On top of me. All around me. Smiling at me. Convincing me there’s something human left in me. Something worth caring about.

I hit the remote and shut the door behind us. Addie stirs, groggily sitting up and stretching. “How long was I out? And where are we?”

“Two hours,” I say, popping open my door. “We’re in a storage facility for a vehicle change. How do you feel?”

“Better.” She swallows, and seems to be weighing her words. “Yes. For sure. I’m better.”

“Good. Because there’s no way around what comes next. It’s going to be a hard, bumpy ride through the rain, and we need to move quickly.”

“You could just windwalk me,” she says. “Maybe I’ll be okay. I do wear your mark.”

“I’m not willing to take that risk, Addie.” And to drive home that point, I exit the vehicle, focused on arming myself and getting us the hell out of here.

We have backup, Renegades at our front and rear, but sitting in one place makes us targets, and we’re not human as Addie is. She’s vulnerable, and it’s killing me right now.

I walk to the cabinets on the wall and yank one open; at the same time, a voice in my head is screaming—Lifebond with her. Make her GTECH. She’ll no longer be this damn vulnerable. But what else will I make her the process? The only thing I have any business doing is taking her to Sunrise City and then leaving, working for Caleb from a safe distance.

I yank another cabinet door open and locate body armor for Addie, telling myself to focus, agitated at where my thoughts keep going.

The truck door slams, and I turn to offer Addie the bodysuit.

“Put this on, and quickly,” I order. “I need you in this body armor and us on the road in the next five minutes.”

“It’s huge,” she observes, eyeing the bodysuit made for a man three times her size.

“We’ll make it work,” I assure her, trying not to think about the damn Green Hornets. “I want you as protected as you can be out there.”

Trepidation flashes in Addie’s face, as if she understands what I’m telling her. Nothing good is waiting for us in that canyon, but there’s no other way to get where we’re going.

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