He heard the echoes of his team. They didn't hear her soft voice, he hadn't built that bridge, but it didn't matter. They heard him. They felt him. The rage. The fury. It swept through them all until they were ice-cold and the flames had turned ice blue.
Pepper opened her mouth to continue, but Wyatt pulled her tighter against him and buried his face in her neck.
"You should have told me, honey. I would have been gentler with you. You should have told me."
Her arms slid around him. "I made my mind go blank. I told myself it was training. It didn't matter. He didn't matter. He was no different from my instructors, except he was a disgusting pig."
"Why didn' you tell me?" He pulled his head back to look at her, realizing she hadn't looked at him once. Not once while she was telling him.
She still didn't, but it wasn't hard to tell she struggled with tears.
Wyatt caught her chin. "Look at me, baby," he said softly. "Eyes right on mine. Tell me why you didn't say a word to me about this."
She swallowed hard and shook her head. "Please, Wyatt." Her hands curled into his shirt. "You don't have time for this. Just let me tell you about his soldiers. He beefed them up. He said if I could take them, Whitney's elite soldiers would wipe up the floor with them. So he really beefed them up. That soldier with the harder bone structure you encountered in the lab is one of several. Braden didn't bring very many with him, but he's had time to fly more here. He's doesn't stay at the plant, and neither did his personal soldiers."
He wanted more. He wanted reasons. He wanted to wipe that look off her face. The shame. It wasn't her shame. The humiliation. It wasn't her humiliation. He was going to kill Braden and never look back.
His hand went to the nape of her neck and curled there. He just held her. He needed it more than she did. He was only beginning to recognize what her life must have been like.
"So you think this is all Braden and he's goin' against Whitney."
She nodded her head, still not looking at him. Wyatt tipped her head up to his and bent to take her mouth. He was far gentler. Way more tender. It didn't matter, the flames poured over him and through him, a raging firestorm in spite of the blue flame burning hot in his belly.
He lifted his head and looked down into her eyes. "We good?"
She nodded her head. "We're good, Wyatt."
He turned and left her. He didn't look back. He didn't dare. When a man found the one woman who was his universe, he didn't want her in danger. And she sure as hell wouldn't be put in the fire ever again if he had anything to say about it.
He relayed the information about Braden's soldiers to his team. The skeletal structure was amazing protection, but they also had to have something else, something that revved them up. The soldier coming at him hadn't felt much in the way of pain. He should have stuck around and examined the man, but he'd lost too much of his own blood and there'd been no time.
Doesn't matter, Wyatt, Trap said. Fucking Braden is dead and anyone we have to go through to get to him is dead as well.
The rage didn't lessen. He would never forget the look on Pepper's face, or her quiet voice, so devoid of expression as she "confessed." She'd told him the truth for a reason. She blamed herself for Braden making his soldiers stronger. She'd taken down seven of his guards and kicked Braden's ass.
Man does that to a woman, he doesn't deserve to breathe the same air, Ezekiel added. We've got company coming in from the south. He didn't even change the tone of his voice.
He's not going to be with this bunch, bayou man, Malichai said. Once we clean house here, I'll follow the bastard back to France if I have to. More coming in from the north.
Wyatt was aware Braden wouldn't have had too much time to find his own soldiers. More than likely they weren't psychic, or even enhanced psychically. He recalled Pepper telling him Braden was more interested in physical enhancement. So the supersoldiers coming for them were going to be difficult to take down with bullets and knives. He said as much to his team.
Coming in from the east, Mordichai said. I'll go with you, Malichai, all the way to ends of the earth to find this bastard and end him.
Again, there was no inflection. Just a statement.
On the water, Trap reported. They think they've got us surrounded. I'm fading into the night. Draden's already gone into the trees.
We'll take the water, Ezekiel said. He was the logical one to go in, he could control reptiles better than any of the rest, although truthfully, Trap was best in water.
I'm with you, Wyatt said. Malichai, don' let them near my family.
Mind the alligators, Malichai cautioned. No one's getting near your family. It's mine now too.
Wyatt slipped from the porch into the shadows. He disappeared, just like most of his kind could do.
Braden built his supersoldiers to be men with muscles and quick reflexes, but he left off other very important things. Wyatt, Trap and the rest of his team could outthink the soldiers coming for them. Braden already had proved he had no military background when he sent civilian guards in to look for Pepper and Ginger. He hadn't studied his enemy. He didn't know the first thing about Wyatt Fontenot. Braden had believed he was dealing with locals, and that meant Whitney hadn't told Braden about Wyatt.
Wyatt slipped under the pier into the murky water of the canal. He flinched a little thinking of the germs crawling into the mostly healed wounds on his body. Even a slight opening could mean infection. He made a mental note to give himself a hefty shot of antibiotics.
Braden had to know now he was dealing with more than local fishermen, but he still was not thinking like a soldier. He hadn't found their classified files and learned who he was dealing with; again, meaning Whitney wasn't giving him aid. Wyatt knew that because his sister-in-law, Flame, was hell on wheels with a computer and she would have warned him if his file had been compromised.
Keep talkin' so we know who needs help. Wyatt gave the standard order.
Two approaching from the south, Trap said. They're moving through the trees, but they're not coming in stealthy. They have big guns and they're big boys.
Remember the extra bone. I don' know what Braden mixed with it, but I shot that son of a bitch and knifed him. He kept gettin' back up, Wyatt reminded.
So aim for the Adam's apple, Draden said. See how thick that armor plate is.
The eye, the ear, Trap said. Interesting to see what they're made of.
If Wyatt could have rolled his eyes underwater, he would have. Of course Trap would want to autopsy one of the soldiers, dissect him and start figuring out just what Braden did to
them.
They heal incredibly fast, Wyatt reiterated. He's got them on some kind of supercharged drug to make that happen.
I'll get blood samples, Trap said, meaning it.
Trap was a ghost moving through the woods. They'd never see him until he was on them. He went into camps alone and came out when everyone was dead. Wyatt had never figured out how a man who could heal the way Trap was able to could kill without repercussions. Trap never seemed to have any.
Don' let anyone get close to the house, Wyatt cautioned.
Ezekiel was already making his way along the bottom of the canal, straight for the boat coming silently toward them. Wyatt followed close, keeping at Ezekiel's left shoulder, feeling for creatures in the water and broadcasting strongly for them to stay away. The boat was being powered by oars, moving very slowly so as not to create noise.
The moment they were near the boat, Ezekiel went under it, hugging the bottom, Wyatt beside him. They both stood at the same time, using powerful thighs and enhanced muscles to upend the boat and send the two soldiers flying into the water. Zeke yanked the automatic out of the nearest soldier's hands and was on him immediately. He took a breath and dragged the soldier under.
Wyatt swept the legs out from under the other soldier as he turned toward his partner, trying to get a clear shot at his attacker. He went under, but kept his hold on the automatic. Wyatt hooked him with a vicious grip around his throat. At the same time, he brought his knife up and slammed it into the man's left eye.
Blood in the water, he warned.
The soldiers fought to get free. Neither had the ability to stay under anywhere near as long as Wyatt and Ezekiel, but they were strong and they used their bodies and legs to try to propel their attackers backward, to make them lose footing so they could rise to the surface for air.
Wyatt plunged the knife again, looking for any soft spot he could think of. One where there might not be a covering of bone. Go low with the knife, thigh, calves, crotch. Go for the soft parts, eyes, mouth, try the throat.
Blood ran like a river and still both soldiers fought. In the end, it wasn't the loss of blood or the hideous wounds, it was the fact that neither could reach the surface for air. They simply drowned. Wyatt felt the soldier's frantic fight and then the last desperate heave for freedom before he seemed to succumb to the water filling his lungs.