03-Strength of the Mate (4 page)

Adam gave a brief salute and turned to head toward the rows of empty tanker trailers. He glanced around, searching for Jason.

He spotted a group of wolves in a clearing, wrestling with each other. Adam gave a brief whistle. “Hey, Rodriguez,” he called.

Several of the wolves lifted their heads. The medium-sized red wolf separated himself, running toward Adam.

“If you’re not in the truck when we’re ready to pull out, I’m gonna leave you here.” That was bullshit and Jason knew it.

Adam found his truck and signed for it with the yard worker. Jason circled the rig, sniffing intently as he went. Adam had to admit, that was kinda reassuring. He confirmed the securing of the tanker to his rig. One final walk-around and he was ready to roll out.

With Jason beside him, Adam fell into position where Sergeant Brandt directed. With empty tankers, the return trip would be a little quicker. Still, the Humvees and gun trucks weren’t built for excessive speed, and there were more than forty vehicles in the convoy.

The sound of his name on the radio got Adam’s attention.

“Now we know why Madison’s frosty under fire,” Mercer said, laughter in his voice.

“It runs in the family.” That sounded like Borovec.

Jason looked at Adam, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth. The asshole looked like he was laughing.

“He’s friends with the True Alpha, and just forgot to mention it.”

Adam didn’t recognize that voice. He needed to stop this before it got out of hand. He picked up the mic to his radio.

“Madison never said he was friends with the Alpha, he said he’d met him,” Adam said dryly. “And this is exactly why he forgot to mention it.”

Lieutenant Wilkins interrupted to issue orders to one of the lead gun trucks. Adam was relieved when the harassment didn’t continue. He didn’t want to be an asshole about it, but he also wasn’t about to let Marines who hardly knew him treat him like shit.

Adam breathed a sigh of relief when his truck rolled back inside the wire, passing through the gate to Camp Fallujah. He smiled to himself. He enjoyed the excitement of driving the convoy, but was still happy to be back, safe and sound.

He pulled into the truck yard, parked his rig in line with the others, and cut the engine. Everything around him went still and quiet. Beside him, Jason yawned.

“Almost done, brah,” Adam said with a chuckle. Everybody liked to take a nap after a convoy, including Adam.

A Marine opened the passenger door for Jason, who leapt out and disappeared. Adam slowly climbed out, jumping the final three feet to the dusty ground. Almost immediately, the convoy commander turned them all loose.

Adam released a deep breath. He retrieved his sat-phone and his bug-out bag, slinging the duffle over his shoulder.

A group of werewolves took off at a run, heading across camp. He watched them disappear in cloud of dust. A strong arm suddenly landed on his shoulders, almost hooking around his throat. He tensed, ready to pull away.

“Dude, we’re all getting a shower, then hitting our racks for a few hours,” Mercer said, releasing Adam. “Wanna meet us at the dining hall about eighteen-hundred?”

Adam was surprised into silence. Jason usually asked him to join their table, if they were eating when Adam happened to show up. They’d never invited him ahead of time.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good,” Adam replied. “I’ll be hungry by then, that’s for sure.”

Paul punched Adam in the arm painfully. “See ya then.” He jogged off across the camp, blending in with all the other camouflage uniforms.

Adam resisted the urge to rub his arm, where Paul had punched him. He didn’t want the Marines to think he was weak. Marines were tough bastards to begin with, and Paul had that fucking werewolf strength, on top of that.

Adam hoped the Marines weren’t letting him tag along ’cause they thought he had useful connections. Just this once, it would be nice if Tim didn’t fuck things up for him.

Unlocking the door to his hooch, Adam froze in surprise. Inside were four giant corrugated boxes. They were covered in writing and labels. When he was close enough, Adam recognized Tim’s name and the return address of Camp Pendleton.

Well, fuck.

He dropped his duffle to the floor, kneeling to unzip it. He took out his Ka-Bar and sliced open one of the boxes. Socks? Seriously?

Adam got lucky. He’d opened the box with a letter from Tim. Hopefully it would tell him what was in the boxes and why he’d sent socks.

Adam-

Jeremy says I went overboard, but the brat has never been deployed to Iraq.

I sent dozens of pairs of underwear briefs and socks, because no one ever has enough pairs of either one to change them as often as they need to. I sent baby wipes, because no one ever has enough of those, either. I sent several bulk packages of lip balm. I just hope they survived the heat of the journey. They should still be helpful. There are dozens of packages of hard candy. These help with dry mouth caused by the heat and dust. I included a couple dozen boxes of individual packets of Skittles. (Maybe one of the Marines can explain that to you.) The bottoms of the boxes are lined with magazines (all will pass the censors). I got the usual topics: cars, music, guns, and comic books.

Keep what you need, share the rest with your guys. Let me know if you need more of anything, or if you could use something different.

Tim

Adam chuckled to himself. He was gonna be the most popular guy on the post.

CHAPTER THREE

When Adam reached the dining hall just before 1800 hours, Jason stood talking to Borovec and Allen.

“Hey,” Adam greeted when he approached them.

“Hey, man. We’re just waiting for Mercer.” Jason’s eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but his grin made Adam nervous.

“Rodriguez said you guys missed the fun today,” Allen said. “The shooting stopped before you got to the kill zone.” His expression held nothing but straightforward humor.

“You guys are too good at your jobs. You took the bad guys out before we got to the fun.” He shouldn’t enjoy the adrenaline rush as much as he did. He really didn’t have a death wish.

“Sorry, guys,” Mercer called, approaching at a jog. “Sergeant Brandt needed to talk to me.”

“Anything wrong?” Jason asked.

“Nah,” Paul said with a shake of his head. “Just some questions and preliminary operational feedback from Rivers.”

Adam’s pulse spiked at the mention of Dawson’s name. He needed to get control of that reaction.

“Damn. An Operational Chief who knows how to coordinate operations. That’s not like the Corps.” The group laughed at Jason’s droll comment.

Paul led them into the dining hall and toward the end of the line.

“Can I get your guys’ help with something after chow?” Adam asked as they each grabbed an empty tray.

“What’s the matter, Madison? Still don’t know how your dick works?” Paul asked with a wide grin.

“If I needed help with that, I wouldn’t ask any of you limp-dicks,” Adam fired back. When the laugher died down, he said, “My brother sent a giant care package for you guys. I need your help distributing everything.”

There was silence for several heartbeats.

“Seriously?” Jason asked. “When you say ‘giant’, what do you mean?”

Adam held his arms out to show dimensions. “Four of them.” He knew he had their attention. Their cooperation was damn near guaranteed.

“If we get first pick,” said Paul.

“Of course,” Adam replied easily. Even if he didn’t need their help, he was doing his best to have genuine friendships with them.

They reached the head of the line, so the conversation ended. Adam was fuckin’ hungry. He let the cooks fill his tray. The hall was full, this time of day, but Jason found a table with room for all of them.

Not long after they sat down, the rest of the table emptied out. Adam was silent as he ate. He listened to the Marines discuss what had gone down during the convoy. Borovec and Rodriguez had ridden as wolves in the convoy. They wanted to know what the guys carrying guns had seen and done.

“Do you gents mind if I join you?”

Adam nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected sound of that familiar voice. He looked up into the laughing, lavender eyes of Dawson Rivers. The bread Adam swallowed got stuck halfway down. He gulped at his water to keep from choking.

“Not at all, Gunny,” Paul said eagerly.

Jason caught Adam’s gaze. He covered his smile with his water bottle, but not before Adam saw it. Annoyance flared in Adam’s chest, but he kept it from showing on his face. Jason was trying to fuck with him. His annoyance grew when Rivers dropped down into the chair directly across from Adam.

His appetite gone, Adam pushed his tray away. This inconvenient attraction to Dawson bugged the shit out of him. And Jason made him nervous, acting like he knew Adam’s embarrassing secret. He listened in silence as the Marines discussed Rivers’ plans for some small operational changes.

“Small changes in the beginning let everyone acclimate,” Dawson said in reply to some question Paul had asked. “Once I’ve got your trust, I can make a large change once in a while, and keep disruption to a minimum.”

“I know the first change you can make,” Jason muttered.

If Rivers heard him, he didn’t react. “Adam’s brother taught me that, actually. It’s worked well for him over the last year.”

Adam couldn’t help meeting Dawson’s gaze. There wasn’t as much worshipfulness there for Tim as he’d expected.

“Speaking of Adam’s brother, he sent a huge motherfucking care package,” Paul declared with a wide smile.

Adam’s stomach soured. He didn’t like being the center of attention, and he absolutely didn’t want Dawson’s attention focused on him, at all.

“I heard Adam asked him to do that,” Dawson said. “He was putting it together as I left. It arrived then?” The question was directed at Adam.

“Just today,” he replied. All eyes were on him now and Adam tried not to squirm. “We’re going to break it down and hand it out after chow. Need any spare socks?” Now why did he say that?

“No, I’m good. But thank you.” Dawson arched a brow, his full lips spreading into a playful smile. “I might come begging if there’s another care package, though.”

Adam wanted to drag his tongue along the smile-shaped creases at the corners of Dawson’s mouth. How had he not noticed those before?

“I’m done eating,” Jason declared. “How ’bout you fuckers? Ready to help Madison with his package?”

Dawson chuckled. Adam’s face warmed.

They emptied and stacked their trays. As they left the dining hall, Rivers was still with them, exchanging insults good-naturedly. Adam was ready to tell him his help wasn’t needed when something caught his eye.

Several yards away, one Marine gripped another by the throat. Adam saw the first Marine had clawed hands and realized it was pack business. He glanced away, not wanting to know what the fuck the scene was about. He didn’t understand why the hell the weres had to be so damn violent.

“Gunny.” Paul’s voice was angry.

Adam glanced at Mercer in surprise. Everyone stopped walking. Both Jason and Paul looked mad. They clenched their jaws and their eyes had begun to change colors.

Rivers’ gaze followed the direction the rest of the Marines were looking. His features hardened and he clenched his fists.

“Fucking asshole,” Borovec said in a low voice. “Tello is submissive. Granger is just fucking with him ’cause he can.”

Werewolves did this shit all the time, especially Granger. Why the hell was Borovec pissed off about it now?

As Adam watched, Dawson’s eye color swirled, darkening to a shade of violet. His shoulders and chest seemed broader, his arms thicker. He suddenly looked really fucking scary.

“Stay here,” Dawson ordered in a low growl. He sounded funny. It looked like he’d grown fangs. Rivers strode over to Granger and Tello, his fists still clenched at his sides.

When werewolves got into dust-ups, Adam usually walked the other way. He never understood what the hell was going on, and he hated watching people being humiliated, so he never stuck around. This time, he couldn’t move and he couldn’t look away from Dawson’s back; he was afraid he was going to see someone get hurt.

“Hurry up and discipline your wolf, then walk away,” Rivers said. He didn’t raise his voice, but everyone nearby fell silent. He didn’t seem to notice that a crowd had stopped to watch him. “You’re not teaching a lesson here. You’re being a dick.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jason murmured.

Adam glanced at Rodriguez in surprise. The werewolves must just hate Granger. He’d never seen any of them get pissed off about scenes like this one, let alone do something about it. A part of him wanted Dawson to be different.

Granger shoved Tello away, who stumbled and almost fell. Granger turned on Dawson, his hands still tipped with claws. He snarled, showing a set of mean-looking fangs. “I didn’t ask your opinion!”

“Then you should have,” Rivers snapped. “Because from what I’ve seen, you’re either incompetent, or an asshole.”

“Doh!” Jason said, just above a whisper.

Adam told himself he was a fuckin’ idiot for hoping Dawson was different. He was only pissed off about the way Granger was acting as pack leader.

Granger growled viciously. He sounded just like a wolf. A shiver ran down Adam’s spine.

“What is the wolf’s infraction?” Rivers demanded. He took a half step closer.

Granger didn’t give ground, but for one second, he looked nervous, unsure. Adam was human and even he knew showing weakness gave your opponent the advantage.

“You’re challenging your pack leader!” Granger still sounded angry.

Rivers stepped forward, putting his face right in Granger’s. “State your wolf’s infraction!”

Adam startled. He’d heard Tim use that same commanding tone. He swallowed hard, his heart slamming against his ribs. Not all of Dawson’s strength came from being a werewolf.

“Next time I find you punishing a werewolf, you’d better be able to state an infraction when I ask.” This time, Dawson’s voice held cold menace. “Do you need to be reminded that discipline without cause is a violation?”