April came to and instantly recognized Pastor King’s basement office. She lay on the sofa, her head on a soft pillow. Gasping, she sat up. Pain blasted through her brain. She cried out and closed her eyes for a second. The world spun, and she quickly opened her eyes again.

She and King were alone in the quiet space.

King turned in his leather chair at his desk and tossed her a bottle. “Aspirin.”

She took two and swallowed them without liquid. Ouch. “What’s happening?” she croaked.

His eyebrows rose. “Jerome hit you on the head to get you here. I had hoped such measures wouldn’t be necessary.”

Oh, man. Her gaze caught on the breeding chart still visible. Why did they want her so badly?

King snorted. “Don’t be silly.”

Relief somewhat calmed her. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“Kidnapping involves transport between state lines, right?” He looked like the boy next door in his jeans and dark T-shirt, his green eyes twinkling. “We have no states any longer.”

There had to be some sort of weapon she could use. The guy probably didn’t need a letter opener these days. Was there a pen near his hand? “Damon is going to kill you.” If April didn’t figure out how first.

“Now that might be a problem,” King said. “I’m pretty sure Damon was blown up earlier this morning. The Reno Bunker was a trap.”

April’s head jerked. “How the heck would you even know he was heading to a Bunker?”

King grinned, the sight slightly off. “Do you really think the Twenty gang members had legitimate intel from the president? He’s using those morons as fodder, and it worked. Sure, we had to give up some explosives, but they weren’t exactly our good stuff.”

“How do you know so much about this?” And wait a minute. “Who are you working with? How?”

“Funny you should ask.”

They were talking in riddles. “Why am I here?”

Jerome Blankenship moved into the room from the stairwell. “You’re here because I want you. Always had a thing for Cherry Valance.”

April blinked. Her head hurt again. This guy kept popping up, and now he’d hit her in the head. Payback was going to involve her knee to his balls, whether or not he had a knife. She wished she’d had time to learn to fight. “Who in the world are you?”

“Well, since you asked…” He smiled and moved to one of the long, paneled walls. “I became the vice president very recently.”

The VP. Wait a minute. How was that even possible? That was beyond crazy. “The vice president of what?” Was the church now holding elections? None of this made sense. “And why aren’t you on any Vanguard member lists?” Her vision kept fuzzing.

He smiled, looking even bigger. “The VP of the country, pretty girl. And I’m not on a list because I didn’t come in the front door.” He pressed a button, and a panel slid away to reveal about fifty men in a tunnel, all armed. They moved into the room and silently jogged up the stairs.

She couldn’t breathe.

Where the hell had those men come from? Everyone had an EL on his shirt. The president’s Elite Force?

Within a minute, it was just the three of them in the room. She instinctively stood, craning her neck to see down the tunnel. “I don’t understand.”

King swiveled in his chair. “A lot of people don’t know that there are at least eleven miles of tunnels under Los Angles that were used during Prohibition. Rumor has it that the mayor’s office at the time ran the hooch for the rich and thirsty.”

She blinked. “That’s crazy.” Yet the passageway was right in front of her. And where had those soldiers gone? She had to get a warning to the remaining Vanguard-Merc soldiers.

Jerome pulled out his knife, and it glinted in the dim light. “There are also abandoned subway and equestrian tunnels. It’s amazing what’s under this once-imposing city.”

King eyed the knife. “I wrote one of my college papers on the tunnels and Prohibition. When I joined Vanguard, I recognized this building. It didn’t take much to join the good old church and do some exploring.”

“Why?” April asked, her gaze on the blade. “Why find the tunnels and not tell us?”

“The president has promised me a place in his administration,” King said calmly. “He has the weapons, the planes, and the troops. Vanguard has held temporary power.”

“That’s over now,” Jerome agreed. “Most of the Vanguard-Merc soldiers were at the Bunker and are most likely dead now. We rigged the explosives to detonate when they arrived and triggered the bombs. Our strongest force just entered Vanguard territory from the inside, and they’re going to clean house. You, my Cherry, get to come with me.”

She shivered and turned toward Pastor King. “What about your church?”

He scoffed. “That was a cover. I couldn’t care less about the Pure or these people.”

The truth dawned on her. “You’ve had Scorpius.”

“Yep.” He stood and reached for a gun from the top drawer of his desk. “I’ll leave you two so you can discuss your plans.” Sauntering with a definite swagger, he moved past Jerome to the stairwell. “Somebody needs to shoot anybody who comes near the building before we leave.”

One thing at a time. The Vanguard soldiers knew how to fight. April turned and stared into the darkened tunnel. Moss and bricks made up the sides. How was it possible that the tunnels had existed for so long? “This is how those explosives got into Vanguard.”

“Yep. Planted those myself.” Jerome leaned against the wall.

She stared harder at a faint outline of a person. Looked like a man. “Who is that?”

Jerome turned, unconcerned. “Oh. That’s Joe Bentley. He discovered that King wasn’t in this for the church, and there was an altercation. His body will probably start stinking soon.”

Oh, poor Joe. The guy really had wanted to create a safe place for the uninfected, and he’d been killed for it. “You didn’t have to murder him.”

“I enjoyed it.” Jerome ran his gaze over her body. “I’m saving your life by bringing you with me to what’s now considered the Capitol of the country.”

Lake Tahoe? “Please don’t kill these people.” Emotions churned through her. Most of the Vanguard-Merc folks just wanted to survive and build lives. “You don’t need to do that.”

He shrugged. “We have our orders. The president wants to make an example here.”

How could this be happening? Nobody was that evil. She just couldn’t believe that. “What about the civilians? And the kids?” She moved toward him, needing him to understand. “They’re innocent.”

“This is war.” There was no emotion behind his eyes.

“You’re right.” She kicked him as hard as she could in the balls, and when he leaned over with a startled gasp, she punched him in the nose. Something cracked.

Then she ran.

* * *

They made the drive home in half the time, mainly because they paid no attention to safety. Damon drove one of the motorcycles, weaving in and out through crashed cars and piles of crap, reaching Vanguard-Merc territory with his men on either side of him.

Gunfire was already shocking through the late afternoon as they approached.

He drove between the tires and overturned trucks. Two Vanguard soldiers lay prone on the ground by the main gate. “Ram it,” he yelled back.

Jax nodded and hit the gas of his Humvee, one of the vehicles taken from the Century City Bunker. He hit the fence dead center and careened through.

A firefight was already happening at headquarters, with soldiers firing down from windows to the parking lot where several enemy soldiers fired back, ducking behind displaced vehicles. A quick look at their shirts confirmed that they were Elite Force.

How the hell had they gotten in?

Jax leaped out of the Humvee, already firing.

Damon came up on his right, ditched the bike, and fired at one soldier. The guy went down. Greyson moved up to his side, his arm in a makeshift sling. “Headquarters is barricaded,” he yelled.

The inhabitants had put what looked like tables in front of the door.

A bullet winged by his ear.

Grey dropped and fired. A scream of pain came from behind a truck.

“Good.” Damon turned as more fire erupted in the inner territory. Where was April? Were she and the kids safe? He moved into a fast run with Greyson by his side. They made it around the building to see two Elite Force guys fighting hand-to-hand with a Vanguard-Merc soldier near the showers. The guy was naked but fighting hard. Two guns sat on the sidewalk across the street, so somehow he’d kicked those out of the way.

Damon lifted his gun and squeezed.

The first Elite Force guy went down fast. Greyson took care of the other one.

Screams came from one of the apartment buildings. His radio crackled. “Yeah.”

“Jax here. Headquarters is secured, and we’re going through the territory in grid-style. My men have trained for an attack if we’re infiltrated.” An explosion sounded by the burned-out building. “You and Greyson secure the kids.”

“Affirmative.” That’s exactly where Damon was headed anyway. He ignored the firefights going on all around him and shoved the pain in his body somewhere else. An Elite Force soldier jumped out at him, and he fired quickly.

The guy dropped, dead. Without missing a step, Damon took his weapon and kept going.

Grey yanked him over to the side of a building. “Keep covered, damn it.”

For the first time, Damon had trouble keeping his cool. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the weird storm clouds. The smell of ozone competed with the scent of blood and gunfire. Where was April?

They reached her apartment, and he barreled inside. There were two overturned chairs, as if there’d been a fight. She wasn’t there. He kept going, Greyson on his six, into the main rec room. Only silence.

“April?” he called, sweeping the kids’ rooms. Nothing.

He ran around to the far side and tried to open the door to the basement.

A bigger explosion rocked the territory, and he had to settle his stance. “April?” he bellowed, his chest on fire.

The door opened, and he stared into the barrel of a Sig Sauer. He blinked.

Atticus lowered the gun. “D?”

Relief flowed through Damon so quickly he nearly swayed. “You and the kids okay?”

“Yes,” Atticus said, his mouth drawn tight. “All the kids are downstairs, and I’m prepared to shoot anybody who comes through the door. “Is April with you?”

The relief disappeared. “No.” He looked frantically around. “All right. Shut the door and keep it locked. I’ll be back.”

Atticus slammed the door closed.

“Jax?” Damon said into his radio. “Is April at headquarters?”

“Negative. Swept the building. No April,” Jax said. “Kids safe?”

The patter of a machine gun ripped through the line. “Yes. Kids are safe.”

“Good. We have the north, east, and west cleared. Going south.”

Damon looked at Greyson. “Pastor King drew that map.” For whatever reason, King was working with the president. How, Damon had no clue. But he’d recognized that writing.

Grey nodded. “Let’s go.”

Two Merc soldiers rushed in from outside. “This building clear?” the first one asked, blood dripping from his neck.

Damon shook his head. “Just first floor. But I need somebody on this door. Kids are down there.”

“Understood.” The first soldier took position while the other started clearing rooms.

Damon ran out the back door and down the street, not feeling any pain. There was only April. She wouldn’t have gone back to the church willingly, but she wasn’t anywhere else in the territory. He knew her. If she could be with the kids, protecting them, that’s right where she’d be.

They turned the corner, and Damon caught a flash of her hair. “April,” he yelled, running faster and dodging around the side of one of the houses.

She was struggling furiously with a man Damon didn’t recognize. The guy had her around the waist and was pulling her backward toward the front door of the church. She clawed and fought, panic on her face.

“April!” he bellowed, running.

The guy lifted a knife to her throat.

Damon stopped. Everything. Running, breathing, thinking.

Grey stopped next to him.

April gasped, tears streaming down her face. The guy pulled her into the apartment building and slammed the door.

Somebody fired at them from a side window. The dirt pinged up all around them.

No! Damon bunched to run.

Greyson grabbed him. “Stop. Just hold on. He has a knife. We need a plan.”

Damon always had a plan. He was the calm and deliberate one.

Seeing April with a knife to her throat had changed that. He lost his mind. “No.” Shrugging off his friend, he ran full tilt for the front door, bullets spraying the ground around him.