Lex

The message from Ryder was terse. It's begun, with no explanations or details. Nothing but their own imaginations, fueled by the thick smoke rising in the west.

Dallas paced the conference room, his gaze constantly swinging back to the display on the wall that showed a tactical view of Eden and the sectors. “We'll have to send Bren and Cruz to Five,” he said finally. “That's where they'll hit next. The reservoir keeps them from going straight for Eight, but it keeps us from coming in behind them easily, too.”

Lex placed both hands flat on the table to keep from clenching them into fists. “Ryder was anticipating a full assault on his sector. Maybe even looking forward to it.”

“That's what I'm worried about.” Dallas stopped across the table from her and mirrored her pose. “We should send Finn, too. He's the only person who knows Ryder well enough to notice if he's starting to crack under the strain of all that revenge he's after.”

“Agreed. I have my theories, but it would be nice to know for sure.” Acid burned in her gut. “This isn't defense, Declan. It's war. Whoever we send out might not come back.”

“I know.” He shoved off the table again, pacing out his worry. “We need to get Dylan and Jyoti over here to arrange the first squads of medics. And make sure we have transport ready for the serious injuries. We can—”

Footsteps pounded in the hall outside, and Lex reached for the pistol strapped to her thigh. But it was only Jasper who pushed through the door, his face set in a concerned mask. “Alya's here.”

Lex rose. “Is Shipp with her?”

He shook his head slowly.

Fuck. “Show her in.”

Alya walked in. Her body told the silent story of Shipp's death in dedicated detail, from the blood dried on her hands and arms, on her jeans and her tank top, to her reddened eyes, flat and grim in an expressionless face.

She was a walking worst-case scenario, and Lex was ashamed of herself for wanting to look away. Alya deserved better. If it was ever, Christ forbid, Dallas's blood on her hands—Dallas gone—she'd want her unthinkable loss acknowledged. She'd want people to face her down—horrified but unflinching—and see what she'd given for the cause.

Lex stepped forward and held out her hand. “I'm sorry, Alya.”

Her grip was hard, maybe even desperate. She clung to Lex's hand, as if drawing strength from having her pain recognized.

Then the moment passed, and she let go. “We stopped at the girls' farm at the edge of the sector. Everyone arrived there safely, but they said Hawk and Jeni must have come straight here.”

The churning in Lex's stomach worsened. “We haven't seen them.”

The man who'd come in with Alya stepped forward and curled one huge hand around her shoulder. “I took a long route. They should have beat us here.”

Dallas exchanged a look with Lex, the helpless fury in his eyes eclipsing her own. The best possibility was two of their people trapped behind enemy lines. The worst wasn't even death, but capture—Jeni and her perfect recall in Eden's hands, at Eden's nonexistent mercies.

And there was nothing they could do about it. Nothing. “If they were cut off, could Hawk have gone to ground somewhere?”

“Maybe,” Alya said. “He knows those roads better than anyone.”

It wasn't enough. There were too many variables, too many possibilities where the bad outweighed the good, and Lex's hands wouldn't stop shaking. “Jas.”

He stepped into the room, his hands folded behind his back. A soldier awaiting his orders.

And she and Dallas had to be the ones to give them. “Tell Noah to drop whatever he's doing. I want him monitoring Eden's traffic for troop movements. Tell him I want to hear about any mention of captures. Sector prisoners.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He turned to go.

Dallas stepped forward. “We can find you a bunk here, but we've already set up secure communications with the farm if you need to go back. Either way, you'll be kept in the loop.”

The fear of a mother and the demands of leadership fought a brief, painful battle across Alya's face. Lex wasn't surprised when the leader won. “They need us. And we can organize volunteers. When you need them, you'll have drivers.”

“Good. We can use them.”

They turned to go, every step Alya took stiff and careful. The big man followed her out, hovering protectively, but there was nothing anyone could do to ease Alya's pain.

Lex took a deep breath. “If they're not hiding somewhere—”

“I know.” Dallas closed the door and leaned against it, sagging as if the strength had gone out of him. “Goddammit, Lex. I shouldn't have let her leave the compound.”

“She wouldn't have stayed, not if Hawk was going.”

“She would have if I'd locked her ass up,” he snarled, exploding away from the door. Pacing turned to prowling as he crossed the room. “She's loyal, Lex. She's fucking loyal. You know what that means.”

It meant that no matter what her captors did to her, no matter what threats or torment they dished out, she wouldn't betray the O'Kanes. She'd die first—or she'd want to. “She and Hawk are smart, Declan, and they're strong. Don't give up on them yet.”

“It feels like I already have.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I hate this. I fucking hate this. It's why I avoided this fight for so long. We're the fucking O'Kanes, Alexa. Nothing was ever supposed to be more important than having each other's backs.”

“That goes both ways.” She slipped her arms around him and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “You get what you give, Dallas. Your people—they're not just fighting for you anymore. They're in it for each other, for themselves. This whole thing is so much bigger than us now.”

“It is.” He covered her hands with his. “I guess there's one benefit to outright war.”

“What's that?”

“We don't have to hold back anymore.” He turned in her arms, his helpless expression gone. Instead, plans were forming behind his eyes. “We still have a few friends on the other side of that wall.”