Her team was under attack.

Elle Milton pressed her fingers to her small earpiece. “Squad Six, you have seven more raptors inbound from the east.” Her other hand gripped the edge of her comp screen, showing the enhanced drone feed.

She watched, her belly tight, as seven glowing red dots converged on the blue ones huddled together in the burned-out ruin of an office building in downtown Sydney. Each blue dot was a squad member and one of them was their leader.

“Marcus? Do you copy?” Elle fought to keep her voice calm. No way she’d let them hear her alarm.

“Roger that, Elle.” Marcus’ gravelly voice filled her ear. Along with the roar of laser fire. “We see them.”

She sagged back in her chair. This was the worst part. Just sitting there knowing that Marcus and the others were fighting for their lives. In the six months she’d been comms officer for the squad, she’d worked hard to learn the ropes. But there were days she wished she was out there, aiming a gun and taking out as many alien raptors as she could.

You’re not a soldier, Ellianna. No, she was a useless party-girl-turned-survivor. She watched as a red dot disappeared off the screen, then another, and another. She finally drew a breath. Marcus and his team were the experienced soldiers. She’d just be a big fat liability in the field.

But she was a damn good comms officer.

Just then, a new cluster of red dots appeared near the team. She tapped the screen, took a measurement. “Marcus! More raptors are en route. They’re about one kilometer away. North.” God, would these invading aliens ever leave them alone?

“Shit,” Marcus bit out. Then he went silent.

She didn’t know if he was thinking or fighting. She pictured his rugged, scarred face creased in thought as he formulated a plan.

Then his deep, rasping voice was back. “Elle, we need an escape route and an evac now. Shaw’s been hit in the leg, Cruz is carrying him. We can’t engage more raptors.”

She tapped the screen rapidly, pulling up drone images and archived maps. Escape route, escape route. Her mind clicked through the options. She knew Shaw was taller and heavier than Cruz, but the armor they wore had slim-line exoskeletons built into them allowing the soldiers to lift heavier loads and run faster and longer than normal. She tapped the screen again. Come on. She needed somewhere safe for a Hawk quadcopter to set down and pick them up.

“Elle? We need it now!”

Just then her comp beeped. She looked at the image and saw a hazy patch of red appear in the broken shell of a nearby building. The heat sensor had detected something else down there. Something big.

Right next to the team.

She touched her ear. “Rex! Marcus, a rex has just woken up in the building beside you.”

“Fuck! Get us out of here. Now.”

Oh, God. Elle swallowed back bile. Images of rexes, with their huge, dinosaur-like bodies and mouths full of teeth, flashed in her head.

More laser fire ripped through her earpiece and she heard the wild roar of the awakening beast.

Block it out. She focused on the screen. Marcus needed her. The team needed her.

“Run past the rex.” One hand curled into a tight fist, her nails cutting into her skin. “Go through its hiding place.”

“Through its nest?” Marcus’ voice was incredulous. “You know how territorial they are.”

“It’s the best way out. On the other side you’ll find a railway tunnel. Head south along it about eight hundred meters, and you’ll find an emergency exit ladder that you can take to the surface. I’ll have a Hawk pick you up there.”

A harsh expulsion of breath. “Okay, Elle. You’ve gotten us out of too many tight spots for me to doubt you now.”

His words had heat creeping into her cheeks. His praise…it left her giddy. In her life BAI—before alien invasion—no one had valued her opinions. Her father, her mother, even her almost-fiancé, they’d all thought her nothing more than a pretty ornament. Hell, she had been a silly, pretty party girl.

And because she’d been inept, her parents were dead. Elle swallowed. A year had passed since that horrible night during the first wave of the alien attack, when their giant ships had appeared in the skies. Her parents had died that night, along with most of the world.

“Hell Squad, ready to go to hell?” Marcus called out.

“Hell, yeah!” the team responded. “The devil needs an ass-kicking!”

“Woo-hoo!” Another voice blasted through her headset, pulling her from the past. “Ellie, baby, this dirty alien’s nest stinks like Cruz’s socks. You should be here.”

A smile tugged at Elle’s lips. Shaw Baird always knew how to ease the tension of a life-or-death situation.

“Oh, yeah, Hell Squad gets the best missions,” Shaw added.

Elle watched the screen, her smile slipping. Everyone called Squad Six the Hell Squad. She was never quite sure if it was because they were hellions, or because they got sent into hell to do the toughest, dirtiest missions.

There was no doubt they were a bunch of rebels. Marcus had a rep for not following orders. Just the previous week, he’d led the squad in to destroy a raptor outpost but had detoured to rescue survivors huddled in an abandoned hospital that was under attack. At the debrief, the general’s yelling had echoed through the entire base. Marcus, as always, had been silent.

“Shut up, Shaw, you moron.” The deep female voice carried an edge.

Elle had decided there were two words that best described the only female soldier on Hell Squad—loner and tough. Claudia Frost was everything Elle wasn’t. Elle cleared her throat. “Just get yourselves back to base.”

As she listened to the team fight their way through the rex nest, she tapped in the command for one of the Hawk quadcopters to pick them up.

The line crackled. “Okay, Elle, we’re through. Heading to the evac point.”

Marcus’ deep voice flowed over her and the tense muscles in her shoulders relaxed a fraction. They’d be back soon. They were okay. He was okay.

She pressed a finger to the blue dot leading the team. “The bird’s en route, Marcus.”

“Thanks. See you soon.”

She watched on the screen as the large, black shadow of the Hawk hovered above the ground and the team boarded. The rex was headed in their direction, but they were already in the air.

Elle stood and ran her hands down her trousers. She shot a wry smile at the camouflage fabric. It felt like a dream to think that she’d ever owned a very expensive, designer wardrobe. And heels—God, how long had it been since she’d worn heels? These days, fatigues were all that hung in her closet. Well-worn ones, at that.

As she headed through the tunnels of the underground base toward the landing pads, she forced herself not to run. She’d see him—them—soon enough. She rounded a corner and almost collided with someone.

“General. Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“No problem, Elle.” General Adam Holmes had a military-straight bearing he’d developed in the United Coalition Army and a head of dark hair with a brush of distinguished gray at his temples. He was classically handsome, and his eyes were a piercing blue. He was the top man in this last little outpost of humanity. “Squad Six on their way back?”

“Yes, sir.” They fell into step.

“And they secured the map?”

God, Elle had almost forgotten about the map. “Ah, yes. They got images of it just before they came under attack by raptors.”

“Well, let’s go welcome them home. That map might just be the key to the fate of mankind.”

They stepped into the landing areas. Staff in various military uniforms and civilian clothes raced around. After the raptors had attacked, bringing all manner of vicious creatures with them to take over the Earth, what was left of mankind had banded together.

Whoever had survived now lived here in an underground base in the Blue Mountains, just west of Sydney, or in the other, similar outposts scattered across the planet. All arms of the United Coalition’s military had been decimated. In the early days, many of the surviving soldiers had fought amongst themselves, trying to work out who outranked whom. But it didn’t take long before General Holmes had unified everyone against the aliens. Most squads were a mix of ranks and experience, but the teams eventually worked themselves out. Most didn’t even bother with titles and rank anymore.

Sirens blared, followed by the clang of metal. Huge doors overhead retracted into the roof.

A Hawk filled the opening, with its sleek gray body and four spinning rotors. It was near-silent, running on a small thermonuclear engine. It turned slowly as it descended to the landing pad.

Her team was home.

She threaded her hands together, her heart beating a little faster.

Marcus was home.

* * *

Marcus Steele wanted a shower and a beer.

Hot, sweaty and covered in raptor blood, he leaped down from the Hawk and waved at his team to follow. He kept a sharp eye on the medical team who raced out to tend to Shaw. Dr. Emerson Green was leading them, her white lab coat snapping around her curvy body. The blonde doctor caught his gaze and tossed him a salute.

Shaw was cursing and waving them off, but one look from Marcus and the lanky Australian sniper shut his mouth.

Marcus swung his laser carbine over his shoulder and scraped a hand down his face. Man, he’d kill for a hot shower. Of course, he’d have to settle for a cold one since they only allowed hot water for two hours in the morning in order to conserve energy. But maybe after that beer he’d feel human again.

“Well done, Squad Six.” Holmes stepped forward. “Steele, I hear you got images of the map.”

Holmes might piss Marcus off sometimes, but at least the guy always got straight to the point. He was a general to the bone and always looked spit and polish. Everything about him screamed money and a fancy education, so not surprisingly, he tended to rub the troops the wrong way.

Marcus pulled the small, clear comp chip from his pocket. “We got it.”

Then he spotted her.

Shit. It was always a small kick in his chest. His gaze traveled up Elle Milton’s slim figure, coming to rest on a face he could stare at all day. She wasn’t very tall, but that didn’t matter. Something about her high cheekbones, pale-blue eyes, full lips, and rain of chocolate-brown hair…it all worked for him. Perfectly. She was beautiful, kind, and far too good to be stuck in this crappy underground maze of tunnels, dressed in hand-me-down fatigues.

She raised a slim hand. Marcus shot her a small nod.

“Hey, Ellie-girl. Gonna give me a kiss?”

Shaw passed on an iono-stretcher hovering off the ground and Marcus gritted his teeth. The tall, blond sniper with his lazy charm and Aussie drawl was popular with the ladies. Shaw flashed his killer smile at Elle.

She smiled back, her blue eyes twinkling and Marcus’ gut cramped.

Then she put one hand on her hip and gave the sniper a head-to-toe look. She shook her head. “I think you get enough kisses.”

Marcus released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“See you later, Sarge.” Zeke Jackson slapped Marcus on the back and strolled past. His usually-silent twin, Gabe, was beside him. The twins, both former Coalition Army Special Forces soldiers, were deadly in the field. Marcus was damned happy to have them on his squad.

“Howdy, Princess.” Claudia shot Elle a smirk as she passed.

Elle rolled her eyes. “Claudia.”

Cruz, Marcus’ second-in-command and best friend from their days as Coalition Marines, stepped up beside Marcus and crossed his arms over his chest. He’d already pulled some of his lightweight body armor off, and the ink on his arms was on display.

The general nodded at Cruz before looking back at Marcus. “We need Shaw back up and running ASAP. If the raptor prisoner we interrogated is correct, that map shows one of the main raptor communications hubs.” There was a blaze of excitement in the usually-stoic general’s voice. “It links all their operations together.”

Yeah, Marcus knew it was big. Destroy the hub, send the raptor operations into disarray.

The general continued. “As soon as the tech team can break the encryption on the chip and give us a location for the raptor comms hub—” his piercing gaze leveled on Marcus “—I want your team back out there to plant the bomb.”

Marcus nodded. He knew if they destroyed the raptors’ communications it gave humanity a fighting chance. A chance they desperately needed.

He traded a look with Cruz. Looked like they were going out to wade through raptor gore again sooner than anticipated.

Man, he really wanted that beer.

Then Marcus’ gaze landed on Elle again. He didn’t keep going out there for himself, or Holmes. He went so people like Elle and the other civilian survivors had a chance. A chance to do more than simply survive.

“Shaw’s wound is minor. Doc Emerson should have him good as new in an hour or so.” Since the advent of the nano-meds, simple wounds could be healed in hours, rather than days and weeks. They carried a dose of the microscopic medical machines on every mission, but only for dire emergencies. The nano-meds had to be administered and monitored by professionals or they were just as likely to kill you from the inside than heal you.

General Holmes nodded. “Good.”

Elle cleared her throat. “There’s no telling how long it will take to break the encryption. I’ve been working with the tech team and even if they break it, we may not be able to translate it all. We’re getting better at learning the raptor language but there are still huge amounts of it we don’t yet understand.”

Marcus’ jaw tightened. There was always something. He knew Noah Kim—their resident genius computer specialist—and his geeks were good, but if they couldn’t read the damn raptor language…

Holmes turned. “Steele, let your team have some downtime and be ready the minute Noah has anything.”

“Yes, sir.” As the general left, Marcus turned to Cruz. “Go get yourself a beer, Ramos.”

“Don’t need to tell me more than once, amigo. I would kill for some of my dad’s tamales to go with it.” Something sad flashed across a face all the women in the base mooned over, then he grimaced and a bone-deep weariness colored his words. “Need to wash the raptor off me, first.” He tossed Marcus a casual salute, Elle a smile, and strode out.

Marcus frowned after his friend and absently started loosening his body armor.

Elle moved up beside him. “I can take the comp chip to Noah.”

“Sure.” He handed it to her. When her fingers brushed his he felt the warmth all the way through him. Hell, he had it bad. Thankfully, he still had his armor on or she’d see his cock tenting his pants.

“I’ll come find you as soon as we have something.” She glanced up at him. Smiled. “Are you going to rec night tonight? I hear Cruz might even play guitar for us.”

The Friday-night gathering was a chance for everyone to blow off a bit of steam and drink too much homebrewed beer. And Cruz had an unreal talent with a guitar, although lately Marcus hadn’t seen the man play too much.

Marcus usually made an appearance at these parties, then left early to head back to his room to study raptor movements or plan the squad’s next missions. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Great.” She smiled. “I’ll see you there, then.” She hurried out clutching the chip.

He stared at the tunnel where she’d exited for a long while after she disappeared, and finally ripped his chest armor off. Ah, on second thought, maybe going to the rec night wasn’t a great idea. Watching her pretty face and captivating smile would drive him crazy. He cursed under his breath. He really needed that cold shower.

As he left the landing pads, he reminded himself he should be thinking of the mission. Destroy the hub and kill more aliens. Rinse and repeat. Death and killing, that was about all he knew.

He breathed in and caught a faint trace of Elle’s floral scent. She was clean and fresh and good. She always worried about them, always had a smile, and she was damned good at providing their comms and intel.

She was why he fought through the muck every day. So she could live and the goodness in her would survive. She deserved more than blood and death and killing.

And she sure as hell deserved more than a battled-scarred, bloodstained soldier.