April finished touring the area for the kids, noting a few younger boys wrestling over on the floor in the younger kids’ rec room. She’d met several, and so far, they ranged from three to ten years old. “Where are the teenagers?” she asked Sharon.

“Learning in the classrooms,” Sharon said, leading April into the teenagers’ rec room complete with beanbags. “This is where they hang out when they’re not in class.” The empty room was wide and had a pool table and a ping-pong table behind the beanbags and sofa.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, heating the room. Even so, it was a pleasant space.

“Have a seat.” Sharon took a seat in a beanbag, and April followed suit, laughing as she sank in. She blinked. When was the last time she’d laughed?

Sharon settled, and the beans in her bag shuffled. “Isn’t it nice not to worry about being infected? Just for an afternoon?”

April swallowed. She didn’t have the right answer to that question.

Pastor King suddenly filled the doorway. “I don’t think April has cared about being infected or even surviving for quite some time.”

April’s breath caught.

He smiled, his gaze gentle. “Have you?”

“No.” Her chin lifted. She’d lost everything. Why lie?

“I don’t blame you.” King moved inside gracefully, looking more like a drummer in a band than a preacher. With his ripped jeans and dark shirt, he was more approachable than he’d appeared the night before at the somewhat fancy dinner. “I felt the same way when my fiancée died.”

“Oh.” April looked behind him, but the doorway remained empty. “I’m sorry.”

“So was I.” He sat on the couch, his hands clasped between his knees. This close, calluses were obvious. He’d worked with his hands at some point.

She frowned.

He glanced down at his hands. “Before Scorpius, I used to rebuild engines for fun.” His voice deepened, and his smile slid away. “My dad and I…it was our thing.”

April’s chest ached. “Scorpius?”

King shook himself out of it and looked up. “Yeah.” His smile was rueful and tinged with sadness. “The bacteria took everyone, right?”

She nodded. That was the sad truth. Even though she was probably a couple of years the pastor’s senior, he seemed older than her somehow. That could be part of his charisma, or maybe he did have something going on religion-wise. Who knew? That was way out of her experience. “Where’s Damon?”

Now King rolled his green eyes. “Going through every storage locker and room I have containing either weapons or defense equipment. I thought he was going to kiss me when he found a cache of bulletproof vests.”

Kiss him? More likely punch him. “You stole those from Jax,” April said.

“Actually,”—King smiled wider—“the last guy who ran this church stole from Jax. I’m giving the vests back. It’s only fair.”

Well. April studied the handsome man, trying to get inside his head. Was he actually a decent guy? Or was he just that smooth? Intelligence shone from his green eyes, and he filled out the T-shirt like he worked out daily. “I’m not a real fan of God right now,” she murmured.

His chuckle was both surprised and genuine. “I don’t imagine many people are. Were you before Scorpius?”

She shrugged. “Didn’t know much about Him. Grew up in foster care and then formed a family. Didn’t really go to church regularly.” Would that make the pastor dislike her?

He nodded. “Growing up, my family went to church on Christmas and Easter.” His shrug moved very nice muscles. “I didn’t find God until I lost everything else.” He stretched out his long legs. “The funny thing was that Annie, my fiancée, was trying to get me to attend church with her all the time, and I never did.” His chest moved with his heavy exhale. “I wish I had.”

April looked for the door again.

“We want you to join us here,” King said easily. “You know that already, but I thought I should say it out loud. You and Damon.”

Her and Damon. She couldn’t leave the kids she cared for, even if she wanted to. They needed her. But this was a mission, and she had to play it cool. “We know,” she murmured. “There aren’t many uninfected people in Vanguard. That we know about anyway.” She tried to find fault with anything he’d said so far. “What’s your plan? Just stay in Vanguard, isolated? For how long?”

“Until we all leave,” he said, drawing in his legs and leaning toward her. “We’re all going to have to move north soon, and when we do, I’m hoping to find a nice place for our people. For the uninfected people to keep us safe.”

“Why not leave now?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

He shook his head, and the sunlight glimmered across the fading bruises on his face. “The Twenty gang is out there, as well as numerous other predators, and we don’t have the soldiers we need. If Damon came on board, it’d help a lot. But still, we’d require Vanguard security to get safely out of the city.”

Maybe. The president was still gunning for Vanguard, so maybe not. “I’m not the key to Damon,” April said softly, feeling out the pastor. Just how hard would he push?

“You might be,” King said simply. “He wants you safe, and he’s obviously staked a claim.” He held up a hand. “I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

Her ass still tingled from Damon’s two slaps. “I’d think a pastor would have a problem with the way Damon carried me in here.” She looked from King to Sharon and back again. “Yet neither of you have said anything.”

Sharon shrugged. “To each his own. I don’t know your relationship.”

King scratched his head. “I don’t want to interfere. But if you’re in danger or need help, all you have to do is ask. Is he a threat to you?”

A threat? Hell, yes. Not in the physical sense, though. Not really. But Damon Winter took everything about her and tilted it. He tempted her in a way that just wasn’t all right in the crappy world these days. “He wouldn’t hurt me,” she said.

“That’s what I thought, but I needed to make sure,” King said, his eyes sharp.

“Would you forgo having him as security if I had said yes?” April asked, tilting her head.

King nodded. “In a heartbeat. There’s right, and there’s wrong. I can’t lead this church if I don’t know the difference.”

Man, he was good. Was he being honest?

“April?” Damon suddenly filled the doorway, much more than the pastor had earlier. “How’s it going?” He loped gracefully into the room, his eyebrows rising at the blue beanbag next to her.

She couldn’t help the chuckle that let loose. The idea of somebody with Damon’s muscled size dropping into a beanbag gave her the first light moment of the entire day. “What? Too far down for you?”

He frowned. “It’s not the drop, it’s the ascension. Not sure I could get out of it.” He strode over to the sofa and sat next to King. “Cute room.”

“It keeps the teenagers somewhat happy,” Sharon said, brightening suddenly.

April bit her tongue to keep from snapping. The woman was way too flirty with Damon. Sure, he and April were just playing a part—maybe—but Sharon thought they’d been dating for a while. She purposefully brought his attention back to her. “How was the armory? Lots of guns to play with?”

“A surprising amount.” Damon studied her. “You still mad at me?”

Heat infused her face. “We can talk about it later.”

He sighed. “I’d prefer now.” Without warning, he ducked and lifted her right out of the beanbag chair and settled her on his lap.

What the heck? Her eyes widened as she struggled to find her balance on his hard thighs. Was this a show for the pastor and Sharon? Damon didn’t do a thing without reason, but it’d be nice if he let her in on what that was. Should she struggle? Put up a fight so Damon could act like a jerk? Or maybe to see if the pastor would step in?

“There,” Damon said. “I like this room much better now that you’re where you’re supposed to be.”

Okay. She totally didn’t know how to play this. And the easy strength with which he’d lifted her had her heart beating a little too fast. On his lap, she felt small and feminine. Protected. “I’m still mad at you.” It was the only thing she could think of to say.

“But not afraid,” King murmured, amusement in his voice.

Was she supposed to be afraid of Damon? She’d forgotten that part. Okay. So she did suck as an actress. “The day is early,” she said. It was true. Damon had scared the crap out of her the night before with the controlled violence he’d used in the street with those other guys. And yet, a part of her had warmed to that. She was discovering a dark side to herself that she hadn’t known before. Maybe the pandemic had brought that out in her. Maybe it had always been there.

Damon jostled her into position. “You’re awfully quiet. Thinking hard?”

She recovered quickly. “Yes. This is a nice place, Damon. It’s bright and clean, and so far, everyone seems happy.” It was true, and saying it out loud would give King and Sharon openings to talk. Maybe she could get better at this undercover stuff. The kiss Damon had given her the other night had felt real, though. Geez. This was too much. She was way out of her depth. “Don’t you think?” She gave in to temptation and pressed her hand against his slate-hard chest.

“I do.” He eyed King over her shoulder. “Though I would like a better explanation about some of the weaponry I just saw. Where did it come from? More importantly, how did it get here? No way would you be able to get some of that in here without Mercury taking notice.”

King nodded, his gaze sober. “I know. I’m still investigating part of it since I wasn’t involved.”

It was hard to imagine that somebody had just walked up to the outside fence and tossed weapons over without any of the Vanguard soldiers noticing. Sure, the patrols were on a set schedule, and April had seen it posted in the main headquarters. But still. “Who are your contacts out in the world?” she asked, trying to sound merely curious.

King blinked. “Just some organic farmers up north. We’ve sent scouts out to trade.”

“So you haven’t traded for weapons. At least since you’ve been in charge?” she asked, instinctively pressing him.

“Nope.” He scratched his slightly whiskered chin. Without the clean-shaven look, he seemed a lot more approachable. “I don’t have any contacts with guns out there. Unfortunately.”

April might not be a genius, but come on. Of course, she wasn’t a member of the congregation either. Pastor King didn’t owe her an explanation or even the truth. At the moment, he didn’t owe her anything. Yet he seemed somewhat willing to share. Maybe. Then Damon started playing with her hair, and she forgot how to think.

Movement at the door stole her attention away from the hot guy holding her.

“Pastor King?” A woman in her mid-twenties hovered just inside by a table, holding several board games. She had long, black hair, dark eyes, and pretty Asian features—as well as a very rounded and pregnant belly. “I have the test.”

“Tomo.” Pleasure crossed King’s face, and he stood, walking toward the pregnant woman. “Thank you for bringing this.” He grasped her hands and looked down. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a beach ball is bouncing in my stomach,” the woman said, her smile rueful. She rubbed her belly beneath a lightweight cream-colored sundress. “The kid likes to kick.”

April straightened on Damon’s lap, craning her head to see. He set her next to him, sliding an arm around her waist and drawing her into his side. The natural motion felt way too right. She placed her hand on his thigh as if she’d sat with him like this a million times.

Her body flushed warm, and sparks zipped across her nerves.

She shook her head to concentrate. “Hi.”

Pastor King drew the woman into the room. “Tomo, this is April and Damon.” He grinned. “Tomo is our resident medic. She was a practitioner in Century City before Scorpius.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tomo said, her smile soft.

“You, too,” Damon answered before April could. “It must be nice to have a doctor in-house.”

King nodded. “She’s invaluable.”

Man, April wanted to ask who the father of the baby was. Was there a right way to inquire about that? What if something bad had happened to Tomo before she found shelter with Vanguard? The story was all too familiar. So there wasn’t a good way to ask.

“Is the baby’s father still living?” Damon asked bluntly.

April barely kept a wince off her face. “Damon.”

He didn’t move.

Tomo’s eyebrows lifted, but no other expression crossed her face. “Here’s the test.” She handed over a small, wrapped package to King and then smiled at April. “It was very nice to meet you.” Turning on a tennis shoe, she disappeared.

King opened the package while returning to the couch, and drew out a cotton swab on a stick to hand over to April. She took it and swabbed the inside of her mouth and then watched, curious. She’d seen the test months ago, but then the world had pretty much ended.

King took the swab and inserted it into a small vial filled with liquid. It remained clear. “It looks like both you and Damon are pure.” He smiled. “No infection.”

April already knew that.

Damon turned his head. “Tomo didn’t answer my question. Where’s the father?”

King’s smile lacked charm this time. “That’s absolutely none of your business. And I think you know that.”