Marcus (3 page)

Zeke waved a hand behind him. “The best
homebrewed beer in Blue Mountain Base. Or if you want to go all
out, the last of the top-shelf liquor.” He pointed to the mostly
empty spirit bottles lining the shelves behind him.

“Another time. I need to talk to
Marcus.”

Zeke frowned. “Bad news?”

“Something like that.” Elle wove through the
crowd, responding when required to hellos and calls to join groups
for a drink.

She was almost to Marcus when she saw a
tall, curvaceous blonde saunter up to him.

Liberty was beautiful and she knew how to
work it. Considering the world had gone to hell, the woman spent a
long time ensuring her mane of hair stayed healthy and blonde. Elle
had heard Liberty had started an underground black market in
scavenged beauty products. She packed her curves into tight jeans
and a shirt the color of strawberries that showed off her
assets.

Elle liked her. She was funny and
unapologetic about the fact she liked sex. With well-muscled
soldiers. The harder and sweatier the better. Some of her stories
made Elle blush.

But as the woman sidled up beside Marcus, a
flirtatious grin on her face, all of Elle’s kind feelings toward
the other woman evaporated. Suddenly, all Elle wanted to do was
leap on her and take her down.

Elle forced herself to breathe. If Marcus
wanted to spend the night tangled with Liberty, it was none of her
business.

So why the hell did she feel like she was
bleeding inside?

Liberty pressed up close to Marcus, her
breasts rubbing against his arm. She said something and Marcus
responded. Elle secretly liked the fact his face stayed its usual
impassive mask.

Liberty finally nodded and walked away. She
blew Marcus a kiss over her shoulder.

Had they made plans to meet later? Elle
forced her feet to move.
None of your damn business,
Elle
.

She stiffened her spine and hoped the look
on her face was cool and professional.

***

“You should take her up on her offer,
amigo
. She’s a fast, sweaty ride to heaven.”

Marcus grunted at Cruz’s words. “Not
interested.”

Since the alien invasion, most people’s
views on sex had changed. Sex was a way to affirm life, feel
closeness when most people had lost everyone they’d ever loved and
cared about. And it was a way to ensure humanity survived. Although
Marcus wasn’t sure how he’d feel about bringing a kid into this
shitty world.

He liked Liberty just fine, but the woman
made no bones about the fact that she liked soldiers. Any soldiers.
Marcus wanted…something else. Something more.

Cruz snorted. “You’ve been pretty uptight of
late. Getting laid would do us all a favor.”

“Can it, Ramos.”

Cruz lifted his drink, but the glint in his
eyes said he was laughing inside at Marcus’ expense. “Then you
wouldn’t be interested to know a certain pretty, smart and softly
sexy brunette is headed our way.”

Marcus barely stopped himself from jerking.
He flicked his gaze over the crowd and saw Elle wending her way
through the throng.

Her dark hair was loose. She usually had it
tied up or braided when she was working. She didn’t wear any
make-up, but her face didn’t need it. Clean, fresh and
beautiful.

Shit
. He lifted his beer and took a
huge gulp.

Cruz chuckled. “Still not interested,
amigo
?”

“Fuck you, Cruz.”

“I don’t think it’s me you want to fuck, my
friend.”

Elle reached them.

“
Hola
, Elle.”

“Hi, Cruz.” Her gaze landed on Marcus.
“Marcus.”

He nodded.

“I’ve just come from the comp lab.”

Marcus straightened. “They decoded the
map?”

She grimaced. “Sort of. They broke the
encryption but they can’t decipher the data. There are too many
raptor words we don’t know.”

Marcus swore.

“I’m sorry.” She pressed a hand to his
forearm. “I’ll keep working on it, I promise.”

Her touch burned all the way through his
skin so that he could swear he felt it in his bones. He pulled
away. “We need to locate that comms hub.”

She clenched her hands together. “I
know.”

“Hey, Ellie-girl.” Shaw appeared behind her
and flicked a finger at her earlobe.

“You’re all better?” she asked.

“Sure. The lovely Doc Emerson fixed me right
up.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I don’t mind being injured if I get
to stare at a beautiful face while I’m healing.” He grabbed her
hand. “Next time, you could come visit me and we can play
doctor-patient.”

Claudia reached over and smacked Shaw in the
head. “Quit it, you moron.”

Shaw scowled. “You on the other hand, I
don’t want anywhere near me when I’m healing. You’re just as likely
to finish me off rather than help me get better.”

Claudia’s smile was thin. “And don’t you
forget it.”

“Listen up,” Marcus said. “Elle says Noah
and his geeks can’t translate the map.”

A round of swearing ensued.

“I’ll keep working on it,” Elle said. “I’m
getting much better with the raptor language.”

“We know you will,
querida
.” Cruz
shoved a beer at her. “Here, have a drink, take a seat next to the
boss.” With a hand on her shoulder he forced her into a chair
beside Marcus. “I’ll grab us some chips and what passes for salsa
around here.” He raised a brow at Marcus. “I’ll get a fresh
brew.”

The others drifted away. Marcus watched Elle
take a sip of her beer, while her gaze watched the crowd.

“We still on for tomorrow?” she asked.

“Tomorrow?”

“I usually spar with Cruz in the gym. He
said he can’t make it and that you’d fill in.”

Training? This was the first he’d heard
about filling in. Damn, his sneaky friend. But one look at Elle’s
eyes and Marcus couldn’t say no. “Yeah. Sure.” Great, just what he
needed with his control eroded down to zero. Hand-to-hand combat
training with Elle. Her in those tight black leggings she favored
when she worked out, rolling around on the mats in the gym. Her
skin sweaty and flushed with exertion.

Damn.

Suddenly the music stopped. Marcus glanced
up and saw Cruz taking the guitar from the previous musician. Cruz
settled on the stool, adjusting the instrument. Then he bent over
it and started to play.

The music had an undertone to it that Marcus
guessed hailed from Cruz’s home country of Mexico. Something that
urged everyone to get up and dance. But there was also something
else alive in it—something that made you think of hot nights, silk
sheets and sweaty bodies.

Marcus took another giant swig of his
beer.

Elle’s gaze was glued to Cruz. “He’s so
good. When he’s playing, it’s like there’s no one else in the
room.”

“Yeah, he’s good.” Marcus let the strumming
wash over him. More dancers had joined in, couples swaying and
grinding against each other.

It was all too easy to imagine himself
holding Elle against him. Her rounded ass nestled into him, swaying
to the intoxicating beat. He could hear her sighs of pleasure, feel
her push back against him—

Cruz looked up. He grinned at Marcus, like
he knew exactly what he was thinking.

Sudden squeals cut through the beautiful,
hypnotic music. Across the room, two guys from Squad Four lifted
ladies onto their shoulders. Not far from them, a drunken reveler
swung a punch at his equally-drunken mate.

Marcus gripped his beer. He had no right
thinking anything about Elle Milton. The last thing Elle needed was
his rough hands anywhere near her. Marcus decided he’d head back to
his room…and take another cold shower.

Just then Liberty caught his gaze, shot him
a huge smile and waggled her fingers. She was persistent, he’d give
her that. He lifted his beer in salute but gave the tiniest shake
of his head.

As the curvy blonde winked at him, Elle
looked up. Her gaze cut to Liberty, then him, and then she shot to
her feet. “I’ll be…heading off now.”

Marcus stood and set his beer down. “Me,
too. I have—”

“Other plans.” Elle backed away. “I’ll see
you tomorrow. Good night, Marcus.”

He watched her hurry away, bumping into Cruz
on her way out.

“What was that all about? You scare her off
with your ugly mug?”

“Not sure.” Marcus stared at the empty
doorway. “I’m hitting my bunk. See you tomorrow.”

As he headed for his quarters, Marcus knew a
cold shower wouldn’t be enough. Instead, he suspected a long night
was ahead, with a hard on that wouldn’t go away no matter what,
staring at the ceiling above his bunk and thinking of big blue eyes
and creamy skin.

Marcus finished his last set of bicep curls
and set the weights down on the rack. He glanced at his watch.

Elle was late.

Elle was never late.

Screw this
. He was going to find
her.

He tried her room first. After banging his
fist on the door for a full minute, he frowned. Where the hell was
she? A door down the hall opened and a teenage girl teetering on
the verge of womanhood leaned against the jamb.

“She isn’t there, big guy. Didn’t come home
last night.” The girl grinned. “Figured she got lucky.”

“Thanks.” Marcus ground his teeth together
and stalked off down the hall. Had Elle spent the night in some
jackass’s bunk? He wanted to slam a fist into the wall. He rounded
a corner and nearly plowed into someone headed the other way.

“Hey, Marcus.”

“Noah.” Marcus tried to keep his scowl to a
minimum. “Have you seen Elle?”

Noah nodded. “Yep. She spent the night
working on that damn map translation. Left her sleeping facedown on
the keyboard.”

Marcus’ rigid muscles relaxed. “Thanks.”

Minutes later, he opened the door to the
comp lab and there she was.

Fast asleep.

He let himself watch her for a moment. She
was everything he’d never known he liked in a woman. Before the
invasion, he’d had sex. Quick, hard and over. He’d never really
paid much attention to the woman’s personality, or even what she
looked like, although he’d tended toward tall, fit women who could
handle a man his size. Since the invasion, he’d been too damn busy
to worry about women.

Except this one.

Her head was turned to the side, her cheek
pressed to the metal desk. Her dark lashes were long against the
pale cream of her cheek.

She was a woman meant for silk, and fine
dining and sunshine. Not stuck in this shithole.

He reached out, wanting to touch her, but
let his hand drop to his side. “Elle?”

Her eyes blinked open, the blue of them
unfocused. She blinked again and sat bolt upright. “What time is
it?”

“Nine o’clock in the morning.”

She pushed her hair back off her face. She
had the faint outline of the edge of the keyboard on her cheek. “It
can’t be.” She looked at her watch and groaned. “I’m so sorry,
Marcus. I missed our session.”

“You’ve been in here all night?”

“I wanted to see if we’d missed anything on
the translation. I don’t sleep that well anyway, so I figured I’d
work.”

He crouched down beside her. “All night is
above and beyond, Elle. You need to stay rested. The squad needs
you. We get called out, we need you in top form.”

Her eyes widened. “God, you’re right. I
never thought of that. I could have endangered—”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “That’s not
the point. I don’t want to see you run yourself into the ground. No
more all-nighters, okay?”

She nodded.

“So, did you find anything?”

She huffed out a breath and twisted her
long, dark hair into a knot at the base of her neck. “No. There are
just too many letters we don’t know.” Frustration, raw and sharp in
her voice. “I need a Rosetta Stone.”

“A what?”

“A Rosetta Stone. It was a stone discovered
in Egypt in 1799 by a French solider. It had engravings of Ancient
Greek on it, and parallel words in another Egyptian script called
Demotic, as well as hieroglyphs. It allowed scholars to finally
decipher Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. The original stone is
probably destroyed now.” A flash of sorrow in her eyes. “I know
London was decimated in the first wave and it was in the British
Museum. But the point is, if I could find something like it, that
had our language
and
the raptor language on it, I could use
it to decipher more raptor text.”

Marcus’ jaw tightened. “Or we need a
translator.”

She snorted. “I’m the best we’ve got—” her
shoulders slumped “—and apparently that’s not good enough.”

“We have a raptor prisoner in the
cells.”

Her eyes widened. “But he doesn’t speak
English.”

“No, but the Interrogation team got enough
out of him to find out about the map to the comms hub. We might be
able to get some more info out of him.”

She jumped to her feet. “Then let’s go.”

Whoa…what?
“You aren’t coming.” He
wanted her nowhere near the raptor, even if the alien was chained
up.

She lifted her chin. “And how well do you
know the raptor language?”

Shit
. He recognized a couple of
words, at best. The damned dinosaur-like aliens spoke mostly in
grunts and roars and wrote in a scrawl that looked like scratches
to him. “It isn’t safe.”

She waved a dismissive hand at him. “He’s
chained up and locked in a cell. And with you there, I can’t get
much safer.” She snatched up a tablet. “I have everything here. I
can show the raptor some of the words I want translated.”

“Elle…” Jesus. Marcus didn’t want her near
the alien, but he also didn’t want her to see what had to be done
to get the creature to talk. The sad fact was that survival wasn’t
pretty. “He isn’t going to just have a chit chat and offer you what
you want. Interrogation…it isn’t nice or neat.”