Gabe: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Hell Squad Book 3) Page 6

  Just like he’d had to do with Zeke.

  “I told him to go,” she said. “You guys needed help.”

  “You aren’t his leader,” Marcus said darkly. “He had orders and he knows better.”

  Gabe set her down.

  Marcus scraped a hand over his helmet. “You need to take some time and get yourself together, Gabe. Since Zeke died…you’re taking risks you never would have taken before, just so you can spill some raptor blood.”

  Each word was like a laser blast to Gabe’s skin. He straightened but didn’t say anything. What the fuck could he say? It was all true.

  “You almost got the doc killed—”

  “Marcus—”

  Marcus didn’t let Emerson say another word. He chopped a hand through the air. “Don’t defend him. This is my squad. I deal with it my way.”

  Emerson closed her mouth.

  “You almost got her killed. Not the raptors, you.”

  The word hit Gabe like raptor projectiles. “Am I off the team?”

  Marcus half turned and cursed. “No. But you’re off offensive missions for now. You’ll be on base patrol and training new recruits.”

  Which Marcus knew he hated. But Gabe figured it was far less than he deserved.

  He felt like things were just spinning out of control. That the darkness inside was pulling him under.

  An image of Emerson dead, her blue eyes unseeing, her skin covered in blood, made him feel sick.

  His fault. All his fault.

  Chapter Seven

  As soon as the quadcopter landed back at base, Emerson called out to her waiting medical techs. They stood with a hovering iono-stretcher, and in moments they had Jason loaded.

  “Get him settled. I’ll be in the infirmary in a moment.”

  The man and the woman nodded and headed off.

  Emerson glanced around the landing pads and spotted Hell Squad making their way out.

  “Gabe.”

  He paused and turned, reluctance stamped all over him. His face was set in stone. “Not now, Emerson.”

  “Look, about what happened—”

  “Don’t want to talk about it,” he bit off, his gray eyes stormy.

  A flash of anger whipped through her. She set her hands on her hips. “You need to talk. You never talk.”

  He leaned down so no one else could hear him. “When I’m making you come, you don’t need me to talk.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t be crude. I want you to talk to me. Share the load. I can see you’re holding stuff in, and it’s hurting you.”

  He straightened. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Damn obstinate man,” she muttered. “I’m good enough to sleep with but not to talk to, to share anything with. Is that it?” God, saying those words out loud hurt.

  His jaw hardened. “Emerson—”

  She shook her head. “You can’t have it both ways, Gabe. Share with me, or stay away.”

  Something flashed in his eyes. “An ultimatum?”

  Her stomach cramped. She’d never wanted it to come to this. She’d stayed quiet so long because she hadn’t wanted to scare him away.

  But that had been selfish of her. He needed help.

  “Funny, you wanted me to share, spill all my demons, but who do you share with, Emerson?”

  She went very still. “I don’t know what—”

  “You think I can’t see you’re fucked-up, too? What the raptors did to you, what you deal with and see every day in the infirmary. I know it leaves a mark. You still get nightmares?”

  She looked away. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you just bury it under your work.”

  “I think we’re done here,” she said frostily.

  His gray gaze ran over her face, like he was memorizing her features. “Yeah, I guess we are.” He turned and stalked away.

  Emerson felt herself waver, like she’d taken a punch to the stomach. So…this was the end. No more midnight visits. No more little gifts. No more Gabe.

  She took a second, then pulled in a long breath. She needed to get to the infirmary and give Jason a thorough health check. That was all she could think about right now.

  She moved on autopilot, stripping out of her armor and heading to the infirmary. Her domain.

  Soon, she was helping settle a freshly showered and fed Jason back into the pillows on his infirmary bed.

  “Your heart rate is a little fast, Jason.” Emerson frowned at the scanner. Not a surprise, really, considering what the guy had been through.

  “I’m okay.”

  Everything else looked normal. He was still pale and sweaty, but he probably just needed some rest. “Look, you get some sleep. If you need anything, just let me know.”

  Emerson had just stepped back when the infirmary door opened. Elle’s pretty face appeared. “Hey, Doc.”

  “Hi, Elle.”

  “I’m here to drag you off to the Friday Night gathering.”

  Emerson screwed up her nose. At the end of each week, a bunch of the base’s residents packed the large rec room off the dining hall. People drank, blew off some steam, found someone to cuddle up to for the night. Tonight, she was definitely not in the mood. “I can’t tonight. Besides, you know I never enjoy them.”

  No, even with her lab coat off, everyone saw a doctor. She got peppered with so many questions and requests, and it was never relaxing for her.

  “I know. I have a plan.” Elle smiled. “We’ll sit with Hell Squad and they’ll scare off anyone coming to ask you about strange rashes or bad backs.”

  Sitting with Hell Squad. Sitting with Gabe.

  “You’re…leaving me?” Jason’s anxious voice broke through her thoughts.

  He looked even paler, rubbing his hand across his mouth. With some rest, a few more meals and some sunlight, she suspected they’d find a handsome man under there.

  “Everything’s fine, Jason.”

  Elle’s face turned serious. “You’ve been under a lot of stress, Emerson. You recently went through a bad situation, and had a near miss today—”

  When Jason grabbed Emerson’s hand, gripping hard enough to hurt, she was startled.

  “Don’t go.”

  “Jason,” she soothed. “I’m not going anywhere.” She gently disengaged his hand and looked at Elle. “I can’t, Elle…I just can’t.”

  It appeared something in her tone registered with the other woman. Elle eyed her with speculation. “Okay. Another time.”

  After Elle had left, Emerson plumped Jason’s pillows. “I’ll be right over there in the office. And I promise I’ll come back and check on you before I head to bed.”

  He licked his lips. “You promise?”

  She nodded and smiled. “Get some rest.”

  Once she was back in her office, she sank wearily into her chair. She stared at her desk. There was no polished stone sitting on the shiny surface, no pretty flower gracing on her files, no shiny piece of fruit by her tablet. It was just her and her work.

  She bit her lip, fighting back the choking loneliness. This would pass. She’d survived a long time without Gabe Jackson. She could do it again.

  ***

  “Come into Dr. Emerson Green’s House of Healing.” Emerson waved Santha into the exam room. “I’ll try not to stick you with too many shots.”

  Santha grimaced and pulled herself up on the table. Her resignation was like a wet blanket hanging over her. “That’s not particularly comforting, Doc.”

  Emerson pulled the curtain. “You’re tough, suck it up.”

  The other woman snorted.

  “You look more scared than when you face down a pack of rabid canids,” Emerson said.

  “I wouldn’t have come if a certain stubborn-ass alpha didn’t bully me into it.”

  Emerson frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Santha lifted one slim shoulder. “I’m just tired, feeling a bit off. I tried to tell Cruz that setting up a brand new intelligence team to spy o
n an invading alien horde is, you know, tiring.”

  Emerson attached a sensor clip to Santha’s finger and tapped the comp screen, setting it for some standard readings. “Not to mention having a sexy soldier keeping you up at night.”

  The brunette’s lips twitched. “You tell me to give up sex and I’ll be ignoring doctor’s orders.”

  Emerson laughed. “So, the alpha maleness is balanced out by the great sex.”

  “Oh yeah.” Santha’s face softened. “And the fact that he loves me.” She looked bemused. “And takes care of me.”

  A burn of emotion lanced Emerson’s heart. Gabe had, in his own way, tried to take care of her. Emerson shook her head. She couldn’t think of him right now. The scanner beeped. “Hopefully we can avoid a prescription that involves no nookie.”

  Santha looked around the small exam room. “Actually, it’s kind of nice to be out of the Intel Office for a little while. Gabe is driving me insane.”

  “Oh? Gabe is usually so…quiet.”

  “Yeah, but he looms and broods and demands. Over my shoulder, every minute of the day. He really wants this Genesis Facility found more than he wants to breathe.”

  The flicker of test results popping up on the screen caught Emerson’s eye, but she ignored them to focus on Santha. “He’s still dealing with Zeke’s death. I think he lost the one person he could talk with. I’m worried. If he doesn’t talk, let out all the festering emotions, well… He needs to accept his brother is gone and no amount of dead raptors will change that. I’m worried he’ll…”

  “Implode,” Santha finished quietly, her pale-green gaze on Emerson’s face.

  “Or get himself killed.”

  “Yeah, the squad’s worried about him too.” Santha tilted her head. “You have feelings for him.”

  Emerson felt a rush of heat in her cheeks. “What? No, I—”

  “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.” When all Emerson could manage was a strangled sound, Santha waved a hand. “Don’t worry, I don’t think Hell Squad knows. I’ve just gotten good at picking things up.”

  Yes, Emerson guessed a year alone waging war on aliens honed those kind of skills. Damn Santha’s observant nature. “I…I…it’s not easy having feelings, confusing ones, about someone who won’t talk to you. He… Well, in bed we have no problem.”

  Santha smiled. “Oh, all that broody intensity. I bet still waters run deep.”

  “But out of bed, he can’t, or won’t, let me in. I think for him, it was just physical. Anyway, we’re over now.”

  Santha eyed her for so long, Emerson wanted to squirm.

  “Emerson, I saw him out there on that mission when the Hawk went down. When he came to and realized you were missing, we had to hold him back from charging into a mass of raptors to find you. And later, when he saw they had you…there was no way on Earth he was leaving without you.”

  Emerson’s memories of the night were thankfully a little blurry. But she remembered Gabe charging through the fighting to grab her, and how he held her as she cried.

  Santha grabbed her hand. “That man cares. He’s just not good at explaining himself, or how he’s feeling. Must be a Y-chromosome problem.”

  Emerson gave a short laugh. “Testosterone.”

  “There you go.”

  “He leaves me little gifts sometimes. Flowers, fruit, small things.”

  Santha grinned. “Oh yeah, he cares.”

  The scanner made a series of beeps.

  “All done.” Emerson studied the screen. “Everything looks okay—” One line jumped out and Emerson blinked. “Well. I’m not sure how to tell you this…”

  Santha stiffened. “God, have I got some virus?”

  “You’ve got something. You’re pregnant.”

  Now the woman went stone-still, her eyes saucers. “Come again?”

  “Pregnant. Gestating. With child.”

  “No way.” Santha pressed one palm to her flat belly and the other slapped against her forehead.

  Emerson stepped closer, worried the woman was going to faint.

  “I have a contraceptive implant. So does Cruz.”

  “Cruz is due for his to be replaced.” Emerson grimaced. “I’ve been stretching the limits on their use-by dates because we only have a few left. When was yours due to be replaced?”

  Santha looked up, clearly running some metal calculations. “Oh, God.” Her face turned stricken. “A few months back. With everything…I completely forgot. And up until a few weeks ago, sex didn’t feature in my life.” Her face changed, the hard edges smoothing. “A baby. Cruz’s baby.” Then every drop of color leached from her cheeks. “I can’t raise a child. Our planet’s been devastated, it’s dangerous, nothing’s safe or certain.” She looked up. “And I am not mother material.”

  “Don’t panic.” Emerson touched her shoulder, squeezed. “This baby will have you and Cruz to protect it. That’s a pretty good start in my books. And you’re doing a great job with Bryony.”

  “God—” Santha grinned “—Bry will love this.” The grin melted away. “What if he doesn’t want a baby? God, how am I going to tell Cruz?”

  “Tell me what?”

  Both women jumped. Cruz stood in the doorway, his tight white T-shirt stretched over his muscled chest and tattooed arms.

  “Doc, is she okay?”

  There was so much emotion in his voice—concern, anxiety, love. “Well—”

  “Oh, God.” Santha pressed her face into her hands.

  Cruz got a panicked look on his face and strode to her side. “Mi reina, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Together.”

  “Okay.” Santha lifted her head, took a few deep breaths. “I’m pregnant.”

  He went tense. “Pregnant? With a baby?”

  “Well, I hope it isn’t a kitten.”

  “A baby.” He breathed the words with reverence. “We’re going to have a baby. Jesus, Santha.” He yanked her into his chest and buried his face in her hair. “A baby.”

  Love. This was what it looked like. Emerson pressed a hand to her chest. It was so damned nice to see it amongst the horror and terror she dealt with most days.

  And she wanted it.

  Boy, did she want it.

  After they’d worked out a schedule for some wellness appointments, the couple left and Emerson headed back to her office. She had some files to go over and she needed to beef up the schedule for regular blood donations all the base residents had to give. Supplies were running a little low. But instead of work, she found herself just sitting there, staring into space. She wanted Gabe to look at her the way Cruz looked at Santha.

  She just had no idea what she was going to do about it.

  Work. She had work to do. Emerson plunged into her files like a woman possessed. When she lifted her head, her neck was stiff. She rubbed at it and eyed her watch. Hours had passed. She stared down at the medical file open in front of her. It was from one of the lab survivors. Some of his test results were strange. She’d need to run some new tests and investigate further.

  But for now, she needed to check on Jason and get to her bed.

  The lights in the infirmary had been dimmed, but the lamp was on beside Jason’s bed. He was sitting upright, rocking back and forth, his face in his hands.

  She frowned. “Hey, Jason.”

  “Dr. Green.” He made a strangled noise and moved fitfully. It was then she noticed he was covered in a sheen of sweat and his sheets were soaked.

  “Jason? What’s wrong?” She stepped closer.

  He raised his head, one hand still covering half his face. “I can’t fight it anymore.”

  Fight it? “Stay calm. Let me help you. I’ll get you a sedative—” She started to turn.

  “No!” He grabbed her wrist.

  Sharp nails bit into her skin and she cried out.

  When she looked down, she saw blood welling, dripping down her arm. His nails were long, pointed…like claws.

  She looked back at him and he droppe
d his hand from his face.

  Emerson’s heart stopped. One side of his face was normal.

  The other side was covered in gray scales.

  And his eye glowed a demonic red.

  “I’m sorry,” he hissed. His mouth was filled with sharp teeth.

  She tried to yank away from him.

  He lunged, springing off the bed like an animal.

  As he hit her, Emerson’s scream echoed in the empty infirmary.

  Chapter Eight

  Gabe flicked through more drone footage. He’d been at it for—he glanced at his watch—hours. And nothing. Not a single clue as to where the aliens had moved the Genesis Facility. He’d seen plenty of raptor patrols, and raptors terrifying and killing human survivors. His hands clenched. Humans too far away from the squads for them to rescue and help.

  He tapped the screen and brought up more feed. The drone team had dozens of the little machines out there, searching. He looked at the notes on the tablet beside him. Intelligence from Santha’s team. They had a few hunches they were checking out. One guy, Devlin, was good. Damn good. He’d gotten right into raptor territory, close to their main ship, without being seen. Guy was either crazy, or very well-trained. He’d been pretty cagy about what he’d done before the raptor invasion…but Gabe had his suspicions.

  Gabe went into his own directory on the network and made a new notation. An image file caught his eye, and he hesitated for a second before he clicked it.

  A photo of himself and Zeke filled the screen.

  Zeke. His twin had the same face Gabe saw in the mirror every day. But he hadn’t shaved his head like Gabe, just kept his dark hair short. And his face had seemed more…open. Zeke had liked to joke and laugh. Damn. He’d been the best of them.

  And he’d be fucking pissed at the risks Gabe had been taking. Even more pissed Gabe had gotten himself sidelined from active missions. Gabe ran a hand over his head. God, he wished Zeke were here.

  Maybe Emerson was right. Maybe he was going to have to find a way to purge this…ugly blackness inside him. He stared blindly at his brother’s image. Maybe Gabe had being doing this all wrong.