Page 84 of Bound By Water
The ground shifts, and the water answers, but I release my grip on it. I don’t want the water to come and wash away this tribute to River and his family. In a daze, I stare sightlessly at the chaos around me, and that’s when I feel it. Water. In their bodies.
Power rises and joins with mine, more than I’ve ever wielded. It’s almost nuclear, but unlike River’s unleashed fury, I have complete control of it, and I know what to do.
I touch the nearest soldier, and he falls to the ground, his shriveled body a husk. I touch another, then another. I hear someone order me to stop, but I can’t. I won’t. I want our loved ones back. I want the people they stole from us. My head swims, and the faces around me blur. The world dims. My knees give out.
Strong arms catch me. “I’ve got you.” Oliver cradles me to his chest. “Quaid. We need to get out of here before reinforcements arrive. Rescue the captives in the building. Eliminate the evidence. We don’t need this getting out.”
I shove against Oliver. “Not River and his family. Don’t burn them.”
A warm finger trails across my cheek. “I won’t.” Quaid’s rough voice promises me.
Heat burns the very air around us, and a bright light sears my eyes. I turn my head into Oliver’s chest. “You came.”
“I had to… you left,” Oliver replies in a low tone.
CHAPTER42
QUAID
Like every day the last week, she lies in the bed without moving. I stare, waiting, and when her chest rises and falls, I can finally sit. Her silky dark hair fans out around her pale face. What I wouldn’t give to see her forest green eyes shooting sparks at me. With a sigh, I pick up my book.
Beckett comes in and raises an eyebrow, but I shake my head. His mouth turns down, and he quietly leaves the room. Jax swings by and drops into the chair on the other side, then turns the TV on.
I scowl at the little shit. He knows this is my time slot. “Get out.”
He flicks an unimpressed glance in my direction, then continues to flip through the channels. “She’s probably bored to death with you in here. What are you reading? Some dry ass book on war strategy?”
I tuck the book into the chair to obscure the title, but the smirk on his face tells me he knows. “Have you carved out a place for the range?”
Beckett found us a place in the wilds of Wyoming. With the Grand Tetons on one side, and flat range on the other, it’s the perfect place to hole up while the shit dies down. The old ranch has a ton of habitable outbuildings that we’re slowly turning into quarters, a mess hall, and an equipment and weapons depot. Operations and the war room are located here in the main house. Along with Greer.
He waves a hand. “Of course.” His chin drops to her. “Why hasn’t she woken?”
There’s a note of worry I don’t think I’ve ever heard in his voice. I shrug. “Pulling on our powers overloaded her system. We’re used to wielding a lot; she’s not. When her body has rested, she’ll wake,” I explain confidently, although I’m purely guessing at this point.
With the volume lowered, he stares at the screen, but I can see the wheels turning in his head. The same as the rest of us. Although she only drew power from Oliver and me, all the marked felt a bond snap into place on that field. One born of power and blood. But why was Greer the catalyst?
He abruptly sits up and increases the volume.
Irritated, I glare at him. “Turn it down.”
“Look,” he fires back, pointing to the TV. “Hightower’s holding a press conference.”
Oliver comes racing into the room, along with Beckett, but they stop when they see the TV on. “Turn it up.”
Jax looks at me. “I was just about to.” He punches a button on the remote, and the newscaster’s voice fills the air.
“If you’re just joining us, armed men burst into Simon’s, a well-known dining establishment for members of Congress, and kidnapped Senator Jack Harrison at gunpoint. We have few details right now, but we’re hoping Senator Thomas Hightower can shed some light on the situation,” she announces, turning toward the cameras. “We’re going live at Capitol Hill.”
The scene changes to the Capitol building, where Hightower is standing at a podium. “At this time, we know very little. Senator Jack Harrison was dining alone at Simon’s. He was the only target. We have received no ransom demands. That’s all we have to share right now.”
“Bastard,” a weak voice spits out, jerking our heads in her direction. “Help me sit up.” Her hand reaches toward me, but I ignore it and wrap my arms around her back and gently pull her up into a sitting position.
“Welcome back,” I say gruffly, relief filling every cell in my body. “That’s it. Give him hell.”
Her eyes, full of hatred, turn back to the TV.
I sit down and look over at Oliver. This is hitting him hard. Not just him. Hell, we’re all feeling ambushed and pissed off.
