Page 20 of He is… Creed: Part Three

She struggles into the suit, and any other time, I’d laugh at the giant monstrosity on her. But not now. Now is about life and death. Her life and death. I bend down, rolling up the too-long legs and sliding the zippers into place. When I push to my feet, my hands are on her waist, and suddenly, we’re staring at each other, too many damn words lodged in my throat, wanting to escape. So much I want to say to her, but now is not the time. There may never be a time. I look away. She does the same.

But then somehow, our gazes collide again. “I know I’ve said this, but I have to say it again. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know that now,” she says softly. “You just couldn’t help it.” She laughs a choked laugh. “That’s why my mother warned me never to fall in love with a soldier. Because it hurts.”

I go completely, utterly still. She loves me? Did she just say she loves me? Because I fucking love the hell out of her. “Addie—”

A loud crash sounds on the roof, followed by another and another. The radio on my phone buzzes and blasts a warning. “A dozen Zodius, and double that in wolves,” Jensen alerts. “Come out blazing, and do it now.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Creed

“We’ll be okay,” I vow, kissing Addie hard and fast. “Do exactly as I say, sweetheart, when I say it, and we’ll be okay.” She nods, terror in her eyes, as I fit a helmet on her head. I grab one for myself and have us both on a bike in seconds.

I crank the engine, hit the remote for the doors, and then we’re flying through the exit. And despite my instinct to use the wind as a shield, I restrain myself. Anything I use against the Zodius at this point, with no bearings whatsoever, I might be using on the Renegades as well.

The instant we clear the building, rain envelopes us, blurring my vision. Julian’s damn pet wolves lunge at us from all directions, forcing me to swerve left and right. Addie screams as they nip at her feet, and I’m damn glad she’s in that armor.

I cut and swerve, unable to reach for a weapon and still control the bike. The wolves are on the right, left, front, and back, but there are no bullets. The Zodius won’t dare shoot one of those wolves for fear Julian will kill them. I throw out a wind shield just beyond the bike, holding them back enough to break free and pull away.

The instant we hit the edge of the canyon, I rev the engine and blast past a cluster of trees. Gunfire is our new enemy, canvassing our path. I throw up another wind shield, erecting a barrier until it falls, then repeating.

But the bullets keep fucking coming, and in an unprotected moment, a spray of bullets pierce the tire of the bike. Time stands still as the bike skids from beneath us, and all I have on my mind is Addie, protecting Addie. But the wind is one with me; it protects me, and it protects Addie, cradling our fall and creating a soft cushion over the ground.

The instant we’re down, mud splattering around us, I tear off my helmet, seeking out Addie. I find her a few feet away, sitting up and yanking off her own helmet. “Creed!” she shouts, going to her knees to crawl to me.

In a flash of movement, I’m on top of her, covering her from the gunfire that follows, about to roll to some nearby trees for cover when I hear weapons cock above me.

I rotate to find myself looking up at the barrels of a dozen weapons, no doubt loaded with Green Hornets. Snarling wolves stand among the Zodius soldiers. Lucian is, of course, front and center, obviously leading the attack. Lucian, who has always wanted power but has never gained anything more than Julian’s disregard.

But this isn’t over.

We were never alone in this battle.

Behind the Zodius army, Renegades materialize, pointing guns at our enemies’ heads. Lucian senses their presence and steps in profile to me, and now Jensen. “These might not be Green Hornets,” Jensen declares, “but they’re going right through your men’s heads.”

“Not before Creed and Addie are dead,” Lucian assures him, his gun pointed right at Addie’s head. “Back off, asshole.”

And when I look into his eyes, I see a desperate man who will die if he fails Julian. And anything shy of killing Addie to torture me is failure. I don’t give myself time to consider the repercussions of my actions because there is no good answer. I could use the wind, but any number of things could go wrong, and one stray bullet could kill Addie. I wrap myself around her and windwalk her to Sunrise City, praying she’ll survive.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Brock

Coldness seeps into my awareness with a hard bite. So. Damn. Cold. My eyelids flip open to the burn of bright lights. Pain piercing my cornea, forcing my lashes downward as if weighted with cement, granting me the comfort of darkness. Yes. Darkness. I like the darkness. It was all I could feel. All I could see.

The room shifts around me, its shadowy movement almost enough to entice me into another attempt to open my eyelids. A soft voice shifts through the empty space of my mind, a sensual, sweet voice, an angel come to help me.

My lids scrape across my eyeballs, and I blink into the bright light that splinters through to my brain; it turns the coldness into blistering pain that travels a fast track down my spine. Muscles twitch in my face and across my eyebrows. I inhale and force myself to focus.

White ceiling. I was staring at a white ceiling. My vision fades; spots glisten like water droplets above me, disorienting me. Desperately, I fight for something to hold in my line of vision, but there is only that damn white light. It is all over, surrounding me, consuming me.

Panic expands in my chest and rises to my throat with suffocating precision, and I jerk upward. A sharp tug on my wrists draws a gasp, pain wrenching them and soaring up my arms. I pant several times, my mind a whirlwind of foggy images that I can’t make out.

I lift my head and look around—small sterile room, white sheets, hospital bed. Sharp pains shoot through my wrists as restraints dig into my flesh. Desperately seeking freedom, I jerk upward again, finding nothing but more resistance, more pain.

Clarity comes to me with the realization that the pain came from the steel pinch of needles—IVs—running through my legs, chest, and arms. I glare down at myself, at the tubes and needles around me and in me, and memories weave a taunting path through my mind. The bridge. The gorgeous female. The injection.

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