Catching Red (12 page)

Her eyes grew wide as panic colored her expression. Knowing exactly what she feared, he preempted her question. “Yes. I know where the damn tunnel is.”

He didn’t think it possible, but her cheeks paled even more. “You used me. It was what you planned from the start.”

He reached over to grip her jaw. Tilting her head, he forced her to look him in the eye. “Don’t be stupid. I didn’t even want this bullshit assignment until you ran away. By the time I got back to the bunker, the tracker showed you inside the WITCH’s borders. I knew I couldn’t save you without help. It was a convenient coincidence I had already been detailed to the WOLF.”

Her brows knitted. “I don’t understand half the things you just said. What is this wolf you all keep talking about?”

Marcus paused. He had forgotten how different their lexicons were. Since he would rather avoid describing the organizational details of the FMA, he focused on the simplest question. “W-O-L-F stands for the WITCH Operation Lead Force. And in case you were wondering, I didn’t tell anyone about the tunnel. I didn’t want them going inside until I found a safe way to get you out.”

Judging from her expression, he had made significant headway toward convincing her of his innocence. “My name
is
Marcus.”

She stared into his eyes. “Did you kill Mother Gothel?”

He shook his head. A further omission crossed his mind, but he decided against it. He didn’t want any more lies between them. “I helped the man who did get away. His distress signal was the reason I had to leave you alone that night. I wouldn’t have given you the chance to get away if my friend’s life hadn’t been at stake.”

Her lower lip trembled. “None of this should make a difference.”

He caught her chin. “If it didn’t, you wouldn’t have gotten so mad. I don’t know about you, but the past six weeks have been a living hell. I’ve given you some rope, but the game’s over. You’re not going back. I don’t want you out of my sight again.”

Judging from her incensed expression, she didn’t want his protection any more now than she did before. While he needed to convince her to cooperate, he was trained to notice signs of fatigue. She wasn’t in any shape to handle a fight. Upon occasion, the best way forward was to take a step back.

He loosened his grip. “Look, we don’t need to get into this now.”

She didn’t seem convinced of his magnanimity. “Then why am I handcuffed to the bed?”

It was past time to switch out the stick for a carrot. “I needed to make up a bath. I couldn’t trust you not to clobber my head and run out. Your clothes are covered in brain-eater blood and you reek to high heaven. Why don’t we fix that?”

Her face turned bright red. He couldn’t help but chuckle at her apparent embarrassment. A smooth talker, he was not. But his words were nothing if not effective. She was surprisingly vain for someone who had grown up in a female-only cult. Then again, women were always each other’s harshest critics.

She jiggled the handcuffs. “You’ll need to take these off.” Her tone was guarded, but she seemed much calmer. They had a truce.

“It was just a precaution while I cleaned up.” He took the key out of his pocket.

She sniffed his neck when he leaned over. “You used my soap.” There was an accusatory note in her voice.

“It’s nice soap.” He lingered, drawing out the moment. He could have had the restraints off in seconds. “Where did you get it?”

“We made it.” The answer surprised him.

“From what?” Outside the city, most humans were scavengers. Too focused on survival, nomads ransacked, pillaged, and stole. They didn’t create.

“Animal fat, ash, and herbs. We aren’t nomads. The WITCH is a thriving settlement and a safe home to many. You need to leave us alone.” Her words were sincere, and he knew her better than to think she was brainwashed. Nothing in this world was ever black-and-white.

Her argument had little bearing. She had kept up a brave front, but he could tell she was approaching a breaking point. The WITCH had been anything but a sanctuary to the one person he cared about. For Red’s suffering alone, the cult deserved to burn to the ground.

He brushed his thumb over the soft skin just below the metal cuff. He hadn’t thought it possible, but her blush darkened by a shade. For a moment, he lost himself in her eyes. When he regained control of his vocal cords, his response was laced with invitation. “We can talk about that tomorrow.”

Her voice came out breathless and lacked her usual conviction. “I can take care of myself. All I want you to do is leave me alone. Please, Marcus. I need a few more days—”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re out of time.” He would give her the moon and the stars if he could. But this operation had never been in his hands.

Her eyes narrowed. “Your men were still circling the area. You’re here. Your attack hasn’t happened yet. If you let me go now—”

“It’s not going to happen. Let it drop.”

She scowled. After taking a deep breath, she tilted her head to the side. “I thought you said I stink.”

Metal clicked. He freed her wrists and massaged the red bruises. The intense look on her face made him pinch her nose. She could be predictable sometimes. “Try to punch me. It’ll make my day.”

Her lips pursed. He knew she was tempted. Since she had spent most of her life fighting undead, Red hadn’t learned to hide tells. All he needed to do was observe her facial expressions to know when an attack was coming. In many ways, she was still a babe in the woods.

* * * *

“Do you plan on watching me the entire time?” Scarlet asked as she placed her plastic toothbrush in the earthenware cup. It had been damp when she reached for it. Marcus’ breath had smelled minty. She tried not to put the two together and failed.

The man was sitting with his back against the doorjamb. His long legs stretched toward the tub and usurped most of the tiled floor. He was making it impossible for her to ignore his presence. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”

“I’m allowed one big mistake.” Though she tried to stay annoyed, the steaming water was too much temptation for her tired bones. Even with a well just outside, she had never summoned the energy to fill the tub. Heating this much water for a single bath was too impractical to contemplate. Faced with such an outrageous bribe, she didn’t have the conviction to stay angry.

Nor did she want to talk. Too much had happened since they were last together. The once paralyzing regret was now just a memory—the emotion replaced by mistrust. Marcus was her enemy, and she didn’t know how to handle it. How real could the past have been if they had both chosen other loyalties over each other?

Logic overruled indignation. There was no harm in letting him see her naked again. Fixing her gaze on the oil lantern hanging from the windowsill, she unzipped her hooded sweatshirt and slid it off her arms. She left the thin T-shirt on as she unfastened the buttons on her jeans. Caked undead blood had plastered the thick fabric to her skin. With a grunt and some single-legged hopping, she managed to yank it off. Not exactly a sexy sight.

But once her legs were bare, she shivered. Sensual awareness rather than the cold triggered the reaction. Perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her, but she could feel Marcus’ gaze lingering on every shadowed curve and plane. She hesitated. A vain part of her didn’t want him to see a reality less perfect than memory. Pride kept her hands moving. It shouldn’t matter what he thought.

She pulled off her top and heard Marcus’ breath come out as a low hiss. She waited for questions to start, but there was only silence. Relieved, she untied the cloth binding her breasts, hesitating for just a moment before forging on and letting the linen fall away. A second later, she slipped off her panties and stepped into the bath.

It was pure bliss. She sank into the water and let the scalding heat distract her from the man who had neither moved nor spoken. Not ready for the peace to end, she closed her eyes and submerged her head. Staying in the muffled cocoon for as long as she could, she combed her fingers through her knotted hair. When she was forced to come up for breath, she lifted her lids knowing too well what waited.

She blinked away the droplets on her lashes, breathing deeply in an attempt to slow her heart rate. Marcus’ blue eyes were less than two feet away from face. He had moved to kneel by the tub. In his hand was the lavender soap she had smelled earlier.

“Let me.” His words were a command, not a request.

Too tired to fight, she hugged her legs and bent forward. It gave him access to her hair as well as concealed her body. He didn’t seem to mind the hampered view. Dipping his large hands into the water, he worked up a lather. He handed her the soap before smoothing the foamy suds into her tresses. With his hands circling her head, he massaged her scalp as their breaths mingled.

She had never been able to banish the memory of Marcus’ face. With the room shadowed, his features appeared as a collection of hollows and planes. The cleft on his chin, the sharp turn of his jaw, the way the jagged wisps of blond hair traced his eyebrows—it all lent him a dangerous edge that reminded her of the day they first met.

It was no mystery why her mind equated him with safety. Knowing where his allegiances lay didn’t change the emotions his presence triggered. She had always known where he was from. No nomad possessed straight white teeth and a bunker full of scarce resources. Until she arrived back at the WITCH, she hadn’t known the city presented a danger.

She leaned back so her hair fell underwater. His hand supported her nape. She no longer cared if he had an unhampered view of her breasts. Almost purring as he worked his fingers through the tangled strands, she closed her eyes and let him wash the suds off her face. When he urged her to sit up again, she bit down on her lower lip to stifle a protesting moan. She didn’t want this to end.

His callused finger ran over one of the many healed lashes on her back. Reality came crashing to the fore. “Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”

Instead of responding, he took the soap from her hand and smoothed the bar over her neck. He lingered over each whip mark, submerging his arm in the warm liquid as he cleansed her lower back. When he was done, he gave the soap back to her and waited. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” His voice echoed in the small room.

Lowering her eyelashes, she scrubbed the rest of her body. The lack of pity in his tone influenced her more than any demand. When she felt clean, she looked up and faced the man who was once her savior. “I completed my task. It kept me alive. I still had to pay for what I’d done. And with the Prophet dead…it was better she took her anger out on me.”

“If you knew this would happen, why did you go back?” His words lacked emotion, but she could sense frustration behind his nonchalant mask. Lines of strain were evident on the corners of his mouth. She could see his jaw muscles protruding.

She lifted her wet fingers to smooth his furrowed brows. “Because I made a promise. Because my home is worth fighting for. Because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if others died for my failings.”

“You were an idiot.” Heaving a deep sigh, he shook his head. “I should have taken you to the city the day we first met.”

Her lips curved into a small smile. “I would have fought you every step of the way.”

“I would have won.” His utter confidence made her laugh.

“Because you’re bigger?” she teased.

He crept forward. His hand circled her nape. His thumb rested against her collarbone. Their faces were less than an inch apart. His voice was a husky whisper. “Because you’re mine.”

His lips closed over hers. His tongue demanded entry. She closed her eyes and allowed him to take control. Her palms flattened against his chest. Water droplets from her hair dampened his shirt. She arched her back to give him better access. Her body shuddered as he bit down on her lower lip.

He could have pushed; he could have demanded and taken far more than she was ready to give. But his hands remained where they started, holding her steady as he continued to explore her mouth. She forgot to breathe. Her body burned with the need to have his palms move lower. She clenched her fingers on his collar and tried to pull him closer. He resisted. Breaking the kiss, he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers.

Her breath came in shallow pants. “Why did you stop?”

He nudged her back into the water. The stress lines at the corner of his eyes betrayed the effort it took for him to end what had only just begun. “You need to rest. When we finish this, I won’t let you dismiss it as a moment of weakness.”

Her eyes widened. Restraint wasn’t something she had expected. “I can’t stay—”

He cupped her shoulders. “When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

She searched her memories and came up blank.

“You’re in no shape to make the trek. If you still want to go tomorrow, we’ll talk about it. For now, why don’t you spend the night here?”

It had been so long since anyone had taken care of her. She closed her eyes, fought for resolve, and failed. “All right. But you need to—”

He placed his forefinger over her lips. “You’ll have a better chance at convincing me when your brain cells are firing. Let’s get you dried up and into bed.”

Staring out at the flickering stars, Marcus fought the urge to reenter the cottage. He wanted to be with Red, not out in the dark padlocking a bolt-hole that sealed her inside. Wrong place, wrong time—it had always been their problem. It took a week for him to realize she’d taken up squatting rights in a corner of his heart. It took three more days to convince Her Royal Stubbornness the problem was mutual. But she had still left, and he hadn’t been able to keep her from getting hurt.

Fast asleep in a thigh-length T-shirt, with damp tresses plastered to her cheek and neck, Red managed to stir his protective instincts despite what he knew she was capable of. How she could appear adorable while snoring, he didn’t know. Even after exiting the cottage, he couldn’t put her out of his mind.

Memories of the lashes on her back made his teeth grind together. Whoever was responsible for torturing Red would have to answer to him.