Page 58 of Blade

"Your girl will be fine," Doc said, following Blade's gaze to the screen. "She's got the whole club behind her."

"She should have me behind her," Blade replied, frustration evident in his tone. "Beside her. In front of her. Wherever the danger is."

Doc checked the bandages on Blade's chest, his expression professionally neutral. "You'd be a liability in your condition, not an asset. You know that."

He did know it. Logically. Rationally. But logic and reason had little to do with the primal need burning in his chest. The need to protect what was his, to stand between Lily and harm, to tear apart anyone who threatened her. To kill any bastard that even looked at her wrong. That was his job. Not to sit here and watch as she put herself in danger.

Mine to protect. Mine to cherish. Mine.

The intensity of that possessive instinct should have alarmed him. A week ago, it would have. But now, it simply was as fundamental as breathing, as undeniable as gravity.

"Any change in Jose's position?" he asked, changing the subject before his emotions betrayed him further.

"Last intel had him already at the quarry with six men," came Trinity's response from her workstation nearby. "They arrived two hours ago, likely securing positions and sweeping for traps."

"And Marcus?"

"Confirmed alive as of thirty minutes ago. Jose sent proof of life via a video showing today's date." Jay's voice hardened slightly. "He's been worked over, but he's conscious and mobile."

That was something, at least. If Marcus could move under his own power, it increased their chances of getting him out alive when the shooting started.

And there would be shooting. Of that, Blade had no doubt. Jose hadn't gone to all this trouble just to make a clean exchange and walk away. He wanted blood. Revenge. Revenge for Zeb. Revenge for the men Blade had taken out in the cabin. Evil men who were now in hell. They wouldn’t hurt another innocent person, but if Jose had his way, The Rejects would continue to hunt, torture and destroy. Jose wanted a spectacle to reinforce his dominance. He was after legitimizing his club. If The Watchmen had anything to do with it, they’d be dismantled beyond the ability to recoup.

No, The Watchmen wouldn't let Jose get his revenge. Not today. What he'd get instead was the fight of his life.

"Comms check," Jay announced, adjusting his headset. "All units report."

One by one, the team leaders radioed in, their voices clear over the clubhouse speakers.

"Lucky, in position at checkpoint one."

"Irish, moving to the secondary approach."

"Savage, eyes on the high ground. Two sentries visible on the north ridge."

"Rampage, at the tunnel entrance. Clear to proceed."

And then, the voice that sent both relief and fear coursing through Blade's veins.

"Lily, twenty minutes from the rendezvous point."

She sounded calm. Focused. None of the tremor he'd have expected from someone facing what she was about to face.

God, he loved her. Her courage. Her determination. Her willingness to risk herself for others.

It terrified him.

"Switch to channel two for team updates," Jay instructed. "Primary channel reserved for the exchange."

The background chatter faded as Jay isolated the feed from Lily's subdermal comm. Now they would hear everything happening around her, be able to whisper guidance directly to her if needed.

Ifthings went bad.

Whenthings went bad.

Blade leaned forward in his wheelchair, ignoring the pull of stitches and the throb of pain from his chest wound. Physical discomfort meant nothing compared to the psychological torture of listening while Lily faced danger without him.

"Five minutes to the quarry entrance," came Kylie's voice, somewhat muffled as she wasn't wearing a comm herself.

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