Page 23 of Blade (Spartan Watchmen MC #5)

B lade had never been good at waiting. As a SEAL, he'd learned to endure it when necessary.

Patience was needed for surveillance operations, intelligence gathering, mission prep.

As the club's enforcer, he'd perfected the art of the patient hunt.

He tracked targets, studied patterns, choosing the perfect moment to strike.

But this, sitting helplessly in the clubhouse while Lily walked into danger, this was torture beyond anything he'd experienced before.

"Blood pressure's up again," Doc observed, checking the monitor Blade had reluctantly agreed to wear. "Need to keep that under control if you don't want to tear those stitches."

"I'm fine," Blade growled, not taking his eyes off the tactical display Jay had set up in the main room.

On the large screen, GPS markers tracked the team's progress toward the quarry.

The main convoy consisting of Lucky, Irish, Savage, Arrow, and several trusted club members, moved along the primary approach route.

A separate marker showed Rampage's position, already near the tunnel entrance they'd identified.

And there, at the front of it all, the marker that mattered most.

Lily.

She and Makenzie had departed an hour ago, driving a nondescript sedan with Kylie at the wheel. The official story for Jose: two littles and a club secretary, coming to make the exchange for Marcus. Three women, no obvious threat, exactly as he'd expected.

Except Lily wasn't just a little anymore. She was a warrior now too. And Jose had no idea what was coming for him.

"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.

If things went bad.

When things 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.

"Remember," Lily replied, her voice steady, "once we're inside, you stay in the car. Engine running, ready to move the moment we have Marcus."

"I know the plan," Kylie assured her. "Just... bring my brother back to me. Please." She hadn’t wanted to be a getaway driver. She wanted to be in the action, like she had been in the Army. But, she was too close to the situation, and wanted revenge too badly. They couldn’t have any mistakes. She’d eventually given in and went with the plan.

"We will," Lily promised. "One way or another."

Through the comm, Blade heard the car slow, gravel crunching beneath the tires as they apparently approached a checkpoint.

"That's far enough," an unfamiliar male voice called. "Out of the car. Hands where I can see them."

The sounds of car doors opening. Footsteps on gravel.

"We're here to see Jose," Lily said, her voice clear and defiant even through the tiny speaker. "He's expecting us."

"Arms up. Against the car. All of you."

Sounds of movement, of bodies being patted down, searched for weapons. Blade's hands clenched into fists. If those bastards took liberties with the search…

"They're clean," the man reported to someone Blade couldn't hear. "The blonde's the one Jose wants. Other one's another club whore. Driver stays with the car."

"Watch your fucking mouth," Lily snapped, and Blade couldn't help the small, proud smile that briefly curved his lips despite the circumstances. His girl had fire.

A harsh laugh was the only response, followed by, "Move. Boss is waiting."

More footsteps. The crunch of gravel giving way to firmer ground. The quarry floor, Blade guessed from the change in acoustics, the sound bouncing differently off the stone walls surrounding them.

"Right on time," came a new voice, smooth and controlled. Jose. "I do appreciate punctuality."

"Where's Marcus?" Lily demanded, skipping any pretense of pleasantries.

"My, my. Eager, aren't we?" Jose's tone was amused, condescending. "No small talk first? No negotiation? I'm disappointed."

"I'm not here to entertain you," Lily replied coldly. "I'm here to make an exchange. Me for Marcus. That was the deal."

"So it was," Jose agreed. "But I'm curious. Where's your protector? Where's the fearsome Blade? Too cowardly to face me himself?"

Makenzie's voice joined the conversation, her usual bubbly tone replaced by something harder. "He's injured, no thanks to your men. The club honored the deal anyway. We're here, aren't we?"

"Indeed you are," Jose mused. "Two little girls, all alone in the big bad quarry." A pause. "Bring out our guest of honor."

Shuffling sounds. A grunt of pain. Then a hoarse voice: "Mak? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Marcus," Makenzie replied, relief evident in her voice at finding him alive. "We're getting you out of here."

"No," Marcus protested weakly. "It's a trap. You shouldn't have?—"

"Touching reunion," Jose interrupted. "But let's get down to business, shall we? I've held up my end of the bargain. Marcus is alive, relatively intact. Now it's your turn, little Lily. You for him."

"First, I want to see that he can walk," Lily insisted. "That he can make it to our car unassisted."

Smart girl, Blade thought. Making sure Marcus was mobile enough for the extraction. Minimizing the time they'd be vulnerable during the transfer.

"Reasonable enough," Jose conceded. "Marcus, if you would demonstrate your ambulatory capabilities for the ladies."

Sounds of movement, shuffling steps. A muffled groan.

"Satisfied?" Jose asked.

"Release him," Lily demanded. "Let him walk to Makenzie. Then I'll come to you."

"So impatient," Jose chided. "But very well. Marcus, you're free to go. Consider your debt to the Rejects paid in full."

More footsteps. The sound of someone stumbling forward.

"Easy," Makenzie murmured, presumably catching Marcus. "I've got you."

"Now your turn, little girl," Jose called. "Come to papa."

The words sent a surge of rage through Blade. The mockery of the daddy dynamic, the perversion of something sacred between Lily and himself... it took every ounce of his self-control not to roar his fury.

"Steady," Jay murmured, noticing his reaction. "She's got this."

Through the comm, they heard Lily's measured footsteps as she apparently moved toward Jose.

"That's it," Jose encouraged. "Such a brave little thing. I can see why Blade's so... attached."

"Just get this over with," Lily replied, her voice tight with controlled fear.