Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1)(21)

“Sure.” Jax studied the skinny seventeen-year-old. “You did a great job rewiring the van the other day. Thanks.”

“No problem.” The kid glanced at his watch. “Damn. I’m late for target practice. We can’t keep using pretend bullets.” He knuckled his glasses back up his nose. “I’ll try to come up with rubber bullets or something.” Muttering to himself, he turned on his torn tennis shoe and disappeared.

Jax looked at the empty doorway. “I like that kid. Just imagine what he could’ve been before Scorpius.”

Tace nodded. “I’d rather imagine what he can do for us now.”

Good damn point. “Speaking of fake bullets, we need more real ammo,” Jax said.

Tace sighed. “Raid?”

“Yeah. I hate to do it, but I remember some of the stash houses around L.A. Chances are, we’ll find some still there. Maybe drugs, too.” With so many getting wounded so often, they couldn’t be too choosy over painkillers. “I’m thinking of taking the new guy so you can stay here.”

Tace’s head flipped up. “No.”

“Yes. If I don’t make it back, you’re in command. Plus, you’re our only medic with actual combat training. The rest are a couple of nurses and doctors. Young ones. We can’t lose you.” Jax didn’t let any doubt show in his eyes. The Vanguard had to run like the military to survive, so his orders had to be obeyed, and he had to keep his distance from folks.

Suddenly, without a hint of sound, Raze stood in the doorway. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Jax, his body in definite fighting shape. Black hair curled over his collar, and only the odd light blue of his eyes showed his heritage as anything other than Native American. “Is the girl okay?” Raze asked.

“Yes. Nice job on the roof. You’ve done sniper duty.”

“Yes.” Raze turned on his heel and disappeared.

Tace wrinkled his brow. “That guy is seriously weird.”

Yeah, he was off, but so was the rest of the world right now. “He can fight, and he has experience. Let’s hope he stays on our side,” Jax said. Jax didn’t trust him and didn’t know his true agenda, but for now, he could use him. “Anyway, with him on the raid, you can stay busy here as my main combat doctor.”

Tace sighed. “Fine. But about Lynne Harmony—she has medical knowledge, right?”

“Yes. Worked for the CDC before everything. Was some brilliant scientist—that comes with medical knowledge, I’m sure.” Jax stretched out his wounded arm. “But even if she wanted to help us, most people wouldn’t let her touch them. You know that.”

“She just has to help decipher the research materials we’ve confiscated from labs lately.” Tace shook his head. “Although I don’t want to cover her back all day. How are you going to keep her safe?” He kicked at a roll of garbage that had fallen out of the overflowing bin. “How will I if you don’t return from your next raid?”

Jax eyed his second in command and somebody he would’ve called a friend in the old days. They’d nearly died more than a few times together, and he couldn’t lie. “I have no fucking clue.”





Chapter Eight





Passion will hunt us, as we slumber unaware, and consume us from within.

—Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony




So far, Lynne’s first full day in Vanguard territory had sucked, and she was still stuck in Jax’s room as darkness filtered through the boarded-up window. Damn it. She didn’t have time to be a prisoner. She needed to get on with her mission.

She set down her dad’s journal after reading some of his more humorous passages and then fingered a worn and faded picture taped to the wall by the door. A much younger Jax with his arm slung around a shorter kid, one with Jax’s eyes. A brother? They had the same facial structure and build, so definitely a younger brother.

A timid knock sounded on the door, and Lynne hurriedly unlocked her side, more than tired of talking to herself for the last several hours. She yanked open the door, happy to see whoever ended up on the other side.

Fragrant and steaming, a bowl of soup lay at her feet on the threadbare carpet.

She glanced up and smiled at the woman sidling down the other side of the hall near a soldier guarding the stairwell. “Thank you.”

The woman appeared to be about forty with brown hair streaked with gray. She continued inching away. “Someone will be back for the dish later.”

“Wait.” Lynne leaned down and picked up the bowl. “Would you like to stay? Maybe chat?”

“God, no.” Horror widened the woman’s eyes. “You’re the plague. You shouldn’t be here.” She crossed herself, her lips pursing. “Only the very devil himself could’ve infected you with a monstrous blue heart. The rumors about you are true, and now you’re going to infect our leader, the one man who can save us all.” Turning, she sprinted in worn tennis shoes for the nearest stairwell.

Lynne glanced at the soldier, whose gaze remained focused above her head.

She swallowed and stepped back inside to shut the door. Tears pricked her eyes. How silly. What the hell did she care about some crazy woman who didn’t like her? Nobody liked her, and she’d always be alone. She placed the soup on the table, no longer hungry.