Page 42 of Act of Command

Boomer put his hands in his front pockets and whistled, still looking up at the ceiling.

Corbin appeared again, mostly blood free. He reached for Mae and Striker helped to steady her as Corbin pulled her against him. He shook and held her as if she were the single most important thing in all the world to him. He kissed her temple and looked at Striker, mouthing “thank you”.

“Aye.”

There was another boom and the building rocked. Striker looked to Boomer. He shook his head. “That wasn’t me.”

There was a commotion and Striker turned to the entrance to the lab and spotted a man he’d not seen in decades. “Ezra?”

At last check Ezra had joined the Shadow Ops, a division of PSI that dealt with undercover and solo operatives. The Ops had a handler, but other than that, they had little to no interactions with PSI-Ops in order to maintain their cover.

Ezra entered, his arms coated in scales that vanished quickly. The man shook his head and puffed out smoke. He glanced around the room. “Mae?”

Malik stepped out of the way, allowing Ezra to see Mae being held against Corbin. Ezra exhaled slowly, looking relieved. He stepped forward, holding out his hand, a pair of glasses in it. “Here.”

“Help!” Mae shouted as Corbin went down hard, his head bouncing off the floor.

Chapter Seventeen

Mae stayed behind Ezra as a bearded man with long red hair followed her, carrying Corbin’s unmoving form through the smoke-filled halls. The man had a plaid strip of cloth tied around his upper arm, and whenever he spoke she had to lean in a touch because his Scottish brogue was so thick. Leaning in didn’t actually help clear it up though. She kept looking behind her to be sure the man hadn’t decided against bringing what was obviously dead weight to him.

Ezra grabbed her hand. “Mae, move faster or I will carry you.”

“But Corbin is bleeding. A lot!”

“Striker has him and he won’t let anything happen to him. Son-of-a-bitch,” exclaimed Ezra, twisting at the last minute and shoving her against the wall, his body covering hers as he shouted for everyone to take cover. Intense heat rolled over her and Ezra’s body hardened to the point she half thought the man had shifted into cement. When she realized her fingers were brushing over hardened scales, she gasped, looking up to see his face was covered in them as well. More importantly, the flames that had licked by them hadn’t harmed him at all.

His tongue flickered out and she yelped as she realized it was now forked. He winked, and right before her eyes, the scales and the forked tongue changed back into the man who had helped her and who was still trying to help her. He grinned. “Dragon shifter.”

She gulped. She hadn’t realized those existed. There was a lot she didn’t know about and she felt as if she’d had a crash course in opening her mind over the past two weeks. It wasn’t that long ago when she’d thought she’d cling to her virginity until she met the right man.

You did meet him, she thought. Concern gripped her when she didn’t see the man called Striker anywhere. Corbin was gone too.

Another man, this one missing eyebrows, appeared, holding a large weapon. It was the kind of gun military men in the movies held. “We’re good. What was that?”

Ezra shook his head. “Malik, Felix is paranoid. He has fail-safes all over this place. The last thing he wants is his buyer’s information falling into a rival companies’ hands. My guess is, this entire place is rigged to blow.”

A man with long, ink-black hair and eyes that screamed feline came out of a recessed area of the hall. His right arm was charred slightly and he wiped the blackened area away, the skin looking unharmed. Mae couldn’t help but stare at his odd attire. He looked more like he was about to attend a Goth rave than take part in a rescue operation. His tongue darted out and over a lip ring. “I’m Boomer. Nice to meet you, miss.”

Mae held Ezra’s arms tight, still no sight of Corbin anywhere. Had he been hurt more in the blast? “Corbin and the loud guy? Striker or something?”

Boomer laughed. “Yep. That would be Striker. Hold on.”

He moved to a door near him and kicked it, knocking it open. The redhead came out, still holding Corbin like a sack of potatoes, as the man gave the Goth a hard look. “Och, you dinnae have to throw me into a closet, kitty.”

“Didn’t have to, but it was damn fun,” returned Boomer, flashing a wide smile. He pointed to Corbin, his gaze on Mae. “Still out cold, but he’s not burnt to a crisp so it’s a win.”

She glanced at the men. “You’re all very odd.”

Ezra chortled. “No. Mostly they’re just assholes, but they’re assholes who love your mate like a brother.”

She tensed at the mention of mate, before reaching a hand out in Corbin’s direction. The need to make contact with him outweighed her reservations about being called his mate. “He’s bleeding. A lot.”

Strike’s jaw set. “Aye.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Malik, the man with no eyebrows, moved closer to her. “Mae, the faster we get him to help, the greater his chances of healing this damage are. Do you understand?”

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