Monday Morsels: Caught in the Aftermath

CAUGHT IN THE AFTERMATH: Fate’s Vultures #3
(Post-apocalyptic Romantic Suspense)
by Jami Gray

**Warning: strong language**

‘Simon is an ass,’ Vex muttered, staring into the amber depths of her drink.

‘Mmmhmm.’

At the noncommittal hum from her dark-haired drinking companion, Vex lifted her gaze. ‘Mmmhmm, what?’

Wide-eyed innocence stared back. ‘Nothing, I’m just agreeing with you.’

Catching Mercy’s stifled lip twitch, Vex narrowed her eyes. Uh-huh, sure she was. Vex raised her bottle, liquid sloshing against the glass, and tilted it in Mercy’s direction. ‘Agreement, my ass.’ Dropping her head back, she drained her beer and set it on the table. Using a single finger, she nudged it right in line with the other empties. ‘Go ahead.’ She propped her elbow on the table and set her chin in her palm. ‘Share your infinite wisdom with me.’

Across from her, Mercy paused, her drink halfway to her mouth, and arched a brow. Shrewd darkness shoved all that fake innocence aside, leaving behind the assassin’s typical calculation. ‘You sure you can handle it?’

Vex waved her hand in the air, hitting the beaded ends of her multiple braids and sending them dancing. ‘Hit me.’

Mercy shook her head and took a drink. Setting her bottle down, she folded her arms on the table and leaned forward. ‘Fine.’ She pinned Vex with an exasperated but knowing look. ‘The man who supposedly holds your heart tells you you’re better off as friends, the traditional reaction is hurt, which leads to plotting creative payback.’ She paused, a finger absently tapping on the table’s surface. ‘It’s not heartache I hear in your voice.’

Despite the alcohol running warm and loose through her veins, Vex braced as the other woman’s words hit like darts, straight and true. ‘What do you think you’re hearing?’

‘I hear relief.’

Denial whipped through Vex, leaving her voice sharp. ‘Nope, it’s anger.’

Mercy dipped her head in acknowledgement, but not before Vex caught something perilously close to sympathy sweeping through her friend’s hazel eyes. ‘Maybe.’

‘No fucking maybe about it.’ Unable to handle Mercy’s too perceptive insight, Vex shoved back from the table. ‘I’m grabbing another. Want one?’

Mercy sat back, picked up her bottle, and rolled her wrist to test the level. ‘Sure, this one’s almost out.’ She looked to the bar, then back to Vex, speculation adding a dry edge to her voice. ‘You sure you can make it back without starting a fight?’

Rocking back on the heels of her biker boots, Vex adopted an affronted look. ‘Who me? I don’t start fights.’

Mercy snorted. ‘That’s not what I hear.’

‘You’d better get your ears checked.’ Vex headed across the bar’s floor, dodging chairs, hands, and indecent innuendos. See? Not starting a thing. She gave her order to Derek, the barkeep, then half-turned, elbows braced on the bar’s edge to watch the crowd.

Used to be, people came to bars to blow off steam, to see and be seen, and if they were lucky, to find someone to mess up the sheets with. Then the world went to hell and survival became the new normal. Seventy plus years of living by the law of the jungle, and humans were only now beginning to get back to enjoying the few pleasures they could find in life. Like hanging out after a long day, savouring a cold drink and a decent meal. Or in tonight’s case, listening to live music from the band playing for drinks as they made their way northward.

It made for a crowded evening at the Tipsy Shrew. What was that old saying about popular places? Location, location, location? Whatever it was, the Tipsy Shrew had it. Sitting outside of the settlement of Pebble Creek, the bar perched on the main travel route between Salt Lake and New Seattle. Its location managed to snag a variety of entertainment options and patrons.

Tonight’s crowd contained the typical eclectic mix—rough riding road rats, weather-beaten farmers, travelling merchants, and the regular settlement joes looking to wile away the hours with a night out. There were even a couple of military types trying hard, but failing, to blend in. They scanned the patrons, obviously looking for someone. A specific someone she guessed. She let her gaze slip past them even as her brain mulled over their presence. Guys like that preferred their home court advantage of urban centres like Salt Lake and New Seattle. This left places like Pebble Creek, a fairly decent sized town, but not anything close to an urban centre, under the dubious protection of others.

Pebble Creek was under the—what was the word Havoc used that she loved?—aegis of Fate’s Vultures, four nomadic arbitrators—she preferred the term mercenaries—currently calling the settlement home. Which begged the question—who or what was so important the city soldiers would voluntarily come into the Vultures’ territory?

Don’t borrow trouble. Right, because as one of those Vultures, she had more than enough trouble to deal with already, thank you very much. Setting her curiosity aside, she made a mental note to mention their presence to Reaper, the Vultures’ inscrutable leader, before turning her attention to more pressing matters. Like why the hell she thought hanging out with Mercy was a good idea. Maybe she should have opted to stay with Havoc and Reaper to discuss how to ensure the next supply run made it through without disappearing, instead of drowning her sorrows with Havoc’s girlfriend.

Those sorrows included trying to erase the image of the pint-sized brunette wrapped around Simon down by the market square this afternoon. Granted, Vex and Simon parted ways over a week ago, but still, would it have hurt him to wait until she was, say, not anywhere near Pebble Creek, before replacing her ass? Since the answer was ‘obviously not’, yeah, she was angry. Angry at Simon, angry at herself, and angry at the whole fucked up situation in general. Hence her need for alcohol.

On cue, a thick glass hit the bar top. ‘Order’s up.’

‘Thanks.’ She tossed credits down, nabbed the two chilled bottles, and headed back to her table. The music picked up, the heavy beat sinking into her blood and finding pace with her hips. Letting the music wash away her troubles, she wove her way through bodies and chairs. Appreciative whistles followed in her wake, bringing with them a small smile, instead of her normal scowl. Tonight, her bruised confidence could use a little salve after Simon’s clumsy handling.

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 Vengeance can leave you blind…

After surviving a brutal betrayal that left his world of secrets soaked in blood, Math must lead the handful of survivors on a mission of revenge. He's spent years on his enemy's trail, his focus crystal clear ... until his nemesis turns the tables by using one of Math's people as bait for an inevitable trap. To avoid becoming prey, Math must seek an alliance with Fate's Vultures, an enigmatic crew guaranteed to screw with his long-held rule-rely on no one.

A looming conflict poised to rock society's fragile peace forces Vex and her fellow Vultures into a treacherous game where every move could burn them. To make matters worse, someone near and dear is selling them out, making trust a commodity they can ill afford. When Math requests the Vultures' help, Vex alone seems worried the resulting fallout will leave a target squarely on the Vultures' back. Partnered with the lethally attractive assassin, Vex soon faces a greater problem than the rising passion between them-one that will test the bonds of blood and loyalty.

When all is said and done, will they survive vengeance's aftermath?
 
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