Winter's Warrior: Mark of the Monarch (Winter's Saga 4) (24 page)

Meg watched the blue of Creed’s eyes and felt herself diving even deeper into love with every passing breath.  She never questioned the profound absolution she felt toward the man holding her hand.  Instead, she slowly rose on tiptoe, watching him, watching her.  When his breath, warm and delicious, tickled the sensitive skin of her lips, she completely gave in to the instincts that rule her.

He released her hand only to reach up and hold her face as if she were the most fragile, precious thing he’d ever had the honor of touching.  His hungry lips tasted hers as though she were the only drink that could ever quench his thirst.

Creed pulled back just enough to sweep Meg up into his arms.  His massive strength allowed him to hold her with one arm, cradled safely while the other hand slipped up her arm and until his calloused fingertips found the curve of her collarbone and lingered for a moment before continuing up to her jaw line.  Meg watched his eyes as he caressed her and read him as clearly as if he were saying the words, “you’re so beautiful” aloud. 

Their eyes locked as he tipped her chin just enough to gently ask for more kisses.  Meg wrapped her arms around his thick neck and brushed her lips against his tenderly before suckling his bottom lip.

As they kissed, Creed walked them back toward the folding chairs by the barn’s entrance where he sat slowly, lowering Meg into his lap.  Knowing he needed to calm down, he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, her sweet breath brushing against his clean-shaven face. 

“When this is over,” He whispered to her in the rustic beauty of the old barn.  “When we’re able to stop fighting and running, will you still want me around?”

Meg pulled back and looked the soldier directly in the eyes.  She sensed immediately the wave of insecurity crashing around his heart, leaving foam-wrapped self-doubt. “I want to be with you always, Creed.”

“I know we’re both young, but we’ve lived through so much already.”  Meg snuggled even closer against Creed’s rock-hard abs and chest, her long legs draped across his lap as she watched him speak.

“Meg, I wasn’t planning to have this conversation right now, but I never know when we’re going to have time alone.  Our relationship has always had to happen during the calm between storms—or even when the gale is right on top of us.”

Meg was nodding, “I know.  I pray it won’t always be this way, but for now, this is life.  What did you want to tell me?” 

“Can’t you tell?  I mean, use your gift to read me?”

“I could, but I try not to out of respect.  You have a right to your own thoughts without me constantly intruding.  I’ve gotten better at being able to control the gift, thanks to you, I think.”

“Me?”

“My connection with you refuels me, but it also seems to allow me to focus my gift.  However it works, it’s such a relief not to have to feel everything everyone else feels constantly.   I finally feel moments of emotional peace; the world is just quiet.  It’s beautiful.”  Meg smiled adoringly up at Creed’s handsome face.  “So, you’re just going to have to tell me what’s on your mind Creed, because I have no idea.”

Creed’s eyes lowered shyly, a smile playing happily at the corners of his lips. 

“When the fighting is over, I want to take care of you.  I want to protect you and stand by your side always.  I love you, Meg.  I love your family, too.  Would you,” he stopped and cleared the emotion from his throat, “would you do me the honor of allowing me to give you this promise ring?”  From his back pocket he pulled out a tiny platinum ring.

“It’s engraved.” He held it so Meg could see inside the ring. 

Meg read: “My dream came true.   M&C  ∞”

“I thought we should make the infinite symbol ours since we are both marked with it.  It should mean strength and unity among metahumans.”

Meg’s eyes turned instantly red with tears.  She blinked, awestruck at the man who went from assassin, to friend, to more than friends in a year.  Her wet lips were open just enough to make a beautiful gasping, “Oh!”

Creed sat holding the dark-eyed beauty of his dreams with one hand and holding up the simple band between two thick fingers with the other.  “Meg?” he continued to wait.  “Meggie, please say something?”  Worry lines started to form between his handsome brows.

“What?  Oh, Creed!  Of course, yes!”

“You will?” he breathed almost as a sigh of relief.

Meg was nodding emphatically, tears slipping down her cheeks.  “Of course, I’ll wear your promise ring!” she coughed and laughed as Creed reached out to slip the modest band around her ring finger.

Creed was grinning as much as he was blushing.  “I talked to your brothers first.  I wanted to ask you to marry me, but they thought you were too young for that, so they suggested I give you a promise ring.  I’d never heard of it before, but they assured me you knew what it was.”

“Wait, what?”

“What part?”

“You were going to ask me to marry you?”

Creed realized he may have divulged too much so he just shrugged, and held her hand now prominently displaying his ring.

“Creed Young?”

“Would you have said ‘yes’?”  he asked sheepishly.

Meg’s jaw dropped further.

He glanced up from her hand to see her shocked expression.  “I’ll take that as a no.”

“No! Not no, just…wow.  Marriage?”

“That was pretty much Alik’s reaction.”

“How would we even support ourselves?  Where would we live?  What about health insurance?”

“And that was exactly what Evan said.”  Creed’s wide shoulders hunched, defeated.

Meg felt a wave of embarrassment sweep over her.  It was Creed.

“No, my wonderful, sweet man.”  She held his strong jaw in her hands so he would look up at her.  “I’m just surprised.”

“I know what I want, and I want you.  We may not have long to live.  I just wanted to spend every moment I could—” She leaned in to kiss softly around his lips, interrupting him perfectly.

“I would have said ‘yes’,” Meg whispered as she stared directly into his ocean-blue eyes.

Creed blinked twice, struck silent by her admission.

“You would have?”

Meg nodded, grinning widely—a blush rising to her already pink cheeks.

Creed’s face turned from surprised to serious.  “But we’re too young, Meg.  I love you and I want to be with you forever, but I respect your brothers’ wishes.”

“Of course, we can’t get married now, but I needed you to know, I will say ‘yes’ someday, when you ask me for real.”

Creed wrapped his strong arms around his girl and leaped to his feet.  Meg squealed in surprise, laughing beautifully as he swung her around.  Meg didn’t have to read his thoughts; she knew he felt the same as she did: This was their most perfect moment ever.

Chapter 37 A Wrench in the Works

Still deep in thought, staring at her new ring with a goofy grin on her face, Meg ambled back to the house to change into her running shorts.  She and Creed were planning to take in a few miles before the family was due back.  She loved racing him.

S
he stopped to get herself a glass of water from the kitchen, still in a sweet, dizzy state. 

A glint of silver caught her eye.   A wrench was lying on the center island.  Picking it up, she knew immediately it belonged to the old contractor, himself.  Chuck accidentally left it behind because he was thinking about hurrying home to watch his favorite soap opera he never forgot to record.

Sensing Chuck was near she started walking to the front door even before the doorbell rang.  Meg reached for the new lever-like knob and yanked the door wide while saying “Oh, Chuck, I found your wrench.”

There, standing at the door was Chuck, fuzzy eyebrows and all.  And just as she was reaching out to pass the wrench to his well-worn hands
, she registered something was very wrong.

“I’m sorry little
Miss,” he said carefully then as Meg looked on with horror, she saw a figure step out from behind the edge of the front stoop, leap the two steps and twist the kind old contractor’s neck with a sickening snap.

“I’m
not
sorry, little Miss,” the man drawled and watched as realization slip across her eyes one moment too late.

A
stone-faced man was on her faster than she could react and stabbed her with a syringe.  The man released her and charged into the house with a half dozen more like him on his heel—each of them held syringes.  Meg didn’t even have time to scream, let alone fight back.  The last thing she remembered as she slumped to the floor hearing the dull thump of her skull crashing onto the new threshold, was the wide-eyed look of terror in Chuck’s dead eyes.

“Where is everyone?”

“This doesn’t look right.”

“Why is the front door wide open?”

“There’s no one back in the bedrooms either,
Mom.  Something’s very wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“It looks like there was a struggle,” Alik swallowed hard, not able to wrap his mind around what even he was saying.  “The bedding is all ripped off the beds, chairs knocked over and lamps on the floor.  It definitely looks like something bad happened.”

Theo was looking around the living room feeling helpless, so he walked over to the front door to close it and saw a thick pool of blood on the threshold of the door. 

“Oh God, there’s blood,” he moaned loud enough for Margo, Alik and Farrow to hear.  Danny was asleep in Farrow’s arms.

Theo yanked the door wide open and saw a body on his front step.  In the dead man’s hands was a DVD writeable in a jewel case.

The words, “WATCH ME” were written in all caps across the see-through plastic case.

“
Oh, dear Lord!  Who is he?” Margo gasped.

“I think this was the contractor we hired.”

“Should we call the police?” Theo asked, already knowing the answer.

“That’s what normal people do.  We’re not normal because our children aren’t normal.  Let’s watch this first then decide what to do.”  Margo looked to have aged ten years in ten minutes.

“Should I move the body?” Alik asked in a soft voice.

“Not yet
.  Just cover him with a sheet, would you please?”  Margo was shaking all over, except her legs, of course.

Theo went to his study and retrieved his laptop.  His hands were trembling so badly he had to try to push the “on” button several times before he got the machine to understand what he wanted from it.  By the time he had the drive open and was inserting the disk, Alik was back from his grisly chore.

Immediately, a voice began talking. 

“Good evening, Winter Clan.  Allow me to introduce myself.  I am
Senator Donovan Arkdone, and I am the person responsible for your missing family members.  While you are unfamiliar with my work, I am very aware of yours—especially your efforts to evade my colleague Dr. Kenneth Williams.”

The black-and-white screen came to life with the image of a beautifully cut figure of a man who looked no older than thirty-five.  He wore white trousers that hung low on his tight abdomen and a half-buttoned linen shirt.  His dark hair was slicked back with what looked like old-fashioned Brylcreem.  He looked like a model in a cologne advertisement, but the words coming out of his mouth didn’t match his physical appearance.  He was leaning casually against a shiny steel table, his arms crossed, and biceps budging.

“Now don’t get me wrong, I believe Dr. Williams is quite despicable, all that blood and skin dripping; completely unnecessary.” He motioned to his face and grimaced as though remembering the doctor as he spoke.  “Nonetheless, we have a common interest.  You’re going to have to forgive my soliloquy. I was a professor, and after all those years of teaching, this just comes naturally to me. 

“
I’d like to back up nearly fourteen years ago.  A much younger and healthier-looking Dr. Kenneth Williams requested a meeting with me after attending one of my lectures on psychological warfare, which is my primary field of study.  I was guest speaking at your alma mater, Miss Margo.  Maybe you remember me?”

Margo snapped her fingers, “That’s where I’ve seen this maniac.  He literally hasn’t aged a day.” 

The video seemed to know Margo would take a moment to speak because it paused just long enough for her before Senator Arkdone continued.  “Yes, well the nature of the meeting would eventually change your lives, so I suppose it would be only civil of me to share the highlights.  Dr. Williams told me all about his new creation: his metahumans.  He asked me about my previous efforts in mind control under the beautiful guise of national security.  You’ve got to love politicians, don’t you?”  The handsome figure smiled slowly, showing perfectly shaped, bright-white teeth. 

“My work in that field was quite hush-hush as you can imagine.  No one wanted to discuss over a round of golf the torture and whatnot required to break a brilliant-minded child.  No, those precious politicians just wanted the end products, not the details about how they were made.  I understand you’ve met one of my Monarch Slaves.  Miro Reznikov.  He was one of the first MetaMonarchs—a gift from me to Kenneth back when we were freshly starting our joint venture.