The sun bounced off the cement in heated waves as April strolled down the street toward the Pure church apartment building. Everyone not patrolling had headed indoors, desperately seeking cool air, so the streets were mainly deserted. The smell of weeds and dust made her sneeze.

She recovered and looked around.

Even the bricks in the buildings looked hot.

Vanguard had enough water stored to last for a couple of months, thanks to the oddly wet spring, but at some point, they’d run out.

She swallowed, already thirsty.

The sky above her was a shocking blue with no clouds, but to the south was bright orange and black smoke. The fires were still raging along the coast.

Pastor King was waiting for her at the entryway to the four-story building, looking out of place next to the men with guns. His smile seemed genuine, though. “April. You look lovely.”

Sweat rolled down her back beneath the dress, and her hair had certainly frizzed in the heat. But she appreciated his attempt at kindness. “That’s very nice of you.” Accepting his hand, she let him lead her inside where the temperature had to be at least twenty degrees cooler than outside. She sighed.

“It’s too hot out there, I know.” King released her hand. “Where’s Officer Winter?”

“He got caught up with Vanguard and Mercenary business,” she said. Her cheeks were already red from the walk and heat, so he wouldn’t be able to tell a lie. It seemed too risky to admit that Damon was sick, even if it were just the flu. King might not believe that. “I hope he can join us later.”

“Me, too.” King smiled, showing a dimple in his right cheek. “I guess I’ll be your escort then. I’m glad. We haven’t had much time to talk.” He took her arm and escorted her around the partial wall of cement blocks and into the main room. Several people milled around with plates of food in their hands. A few waved, and she waved back. “I have a treat for you.”

His enthusiasm was infectious. “A treat? What kind?”

“This way.” He walked them past the room and in the other direction from the stairs to the apartments. They reached a hallway, and he pointed at various doorways. “We keep weapons there, extra food there, and clothing in that one.” Then he continued walking toward the end of the hall.

One door remained, and he opened it, revealing a wooden staircase that led down. “There’s a small basement.”

She looked behind them, but nobody was there. “What’s down there?”

“It’s a surprise.” He gestured her. “You have nothing to fear here, April. I give you my word.”

She swallowed. What was his word worth? Man, she wished she’d waited for Damon. But she hadn’t. So she shook it off and started down the stairs, ignoring the old, peeling, rose-printed wallpaper on either side.

With each step, the air cooled.

Finally, she reached the bottom step and landed on an antique, gold rug. Then she looked around and gasped.

King chuckled and moved in front of her. “It’s my office. Isn’t it awesome?”

She nodded. The walls were wood paneling, and the desk and table were old and battered, but candles that had been placed strategically provided soft illumination. An oil painting of a mountain range took up one entire wall, and a chintz sofa and chair provided a nice meeting nook. “It’s so cool down here.” Almost air-conditioned.

“Please. Sit.” He motioned toward the sofa.

“This is a nice surprise.” Why had she been afraid of him? So far, he’d done nothing but be nice to her.

He shook his head and headed for a cabinet on the side of the desk. “The surprise is in here.” Opening it, he drew out a bottle of white wine. “J. Lohr Chardonnay.” Grabbing two wine glasses, he brought them over to the sofa and set them on a sofa table. “The good stuff.”

She looked at the bottle. Good enough, anyway. “I used to drink this…before.”

“Me, too. Well, when I was on a date.” He poured some into the slim glasses. “When I was with my buddies, I drank beer. Or vodka.” He handed hers over. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” She clanked her glass with his and took a swallow. Delicious. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the taste. The wine was even cool, almost slightly chilled. Then she swallowed and focused on the pastor. “All right. Today seems to be my day for speaking frankly. What do you want from me?”

King chuckled. “Man, you’re suspicious.” Today, he wore more faded jeans and a green T-shirt from a Garth Brooks concert. He still hadn’t shaved, and his lighter hair was mussed.

She’d try to flirt, but it was just easier to ask the question directly. “That’s not an answer.”

“Is it impossible to believe I just want your company?” He took another sip of his wine. “You’re a beautiful woman. You and Damon seem to be more buddies than dating, and if I’ve read that wrong, I apologize.”

She arched an eyebrow. “He told you at dinner that we’d been dating for a while.”

“He said it like a guy trying to find out why I’ve been pursuing you,” King countered smoothly. “You two didn’t act like you were dating. Not really.” He rolled very green eyes. “I understand you both have a job to do, and I’m fine with that. But don’t insult my intelligence.” He grinned. “Yet, anyway.”

“You’re flirting…with me,” she said slowly as realization dawned. “Seriously?”

His dimple appeared again. “Why would that surprise you?”

“I’m older than you,” she burst out. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting.

“I’m thirty-four. You?” He took another big drink.

She paused. He looked younger than that. “Thirty-two.” She’d gotten pregnant with her daughter at a young age, but things had worked out. “You don’t look your age.”

“Neither do you.” If anything, the church leader seemed amused by her. “You really have no clue how pretty you are, do you.” He said it as a statement and not a question.

Was this part of the cult’s draw? Make her feel special and needed? If so, she was kind of buying it. Was that how they did it? The guy was handsome and smart—definitely kind. If the world hadn’t turned upside down, she’d be flattered. As it was, she couldn’t quite get into his head. “What do you want from me, Pastor?”

“I want you to join us here and stay safe from the bacteria,” he said simply. “That’s what I want. Nothing more, and nothing less.” He topped off her glass. “If you’d be willing to go on a date with me, I’d love that.”

A date? She’d been with the same man most of her life, and now she had two sexy and charismatic men wanting her. Well. It had taken the apocalypse. She chuckled.

“Now that’s a nice sound,” he said.

She shook her head. “Thank you, but no. My dance card is currently rather full.” Even though she’d told Damon they should just be friends, they had slept together the night before.

King gave a rueful smile. “Fair enough. But you and Damon just don’t seem to fit each other. You don’t look right.”

Her hackles rose. “Because he’s black and I’m white?” Racism had better not have survived the apocalypse.

King frowned. “Of course not. But he’s always looking around for a threat, and you’re a nurturer. I’ve seen you with the kids. The two of you couldn’t have different focuses. Damon is seeking danger at all times. It’s who he is. You’re seeking safety.”

Well. There was some truth in that statement, wasn’t there? At least the church leader wasn’t racist. He was just willing to go after another guy’s girlfriend—if she were Damon’s girlfriend, which she was not. “Rumor has it that opposites attract.” Why was she defending a relationship she didn’t have?

“I guess that’s true.”

She forced herself to shrug. “Or not. You’re right in that I don’t want any more danger in this life.” It was time to start playing his game. If there were a game. The pastor might be a decent guy. She took a big drink of the wine and let it slide coolly down her throat. “Damon is suspicious of you.”

“I’m well aware of that fact.” King sighed. “It’s who he is.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Where are the pregnant women who stood at the fence and yelled at Jax before you were in charge?”

King’s eyebrows rose. “That’s what this is about?”

“It’s kind of creepy.” Might as well push the guy a little. “You have to know that, right? There’s something so cult-like about the entire situation.”

He stared thoughtfully into his glass. “I wasn’t present that night, so I can’t really speak to it. But there’s nothing creepy or cult-like about wanting to protect vulnerable and pregnant women from bacteria that will most likely kill either them or their babies or both.” He brushed a stray piece of hair away from her face. “You understand that, right?”

“Kind of.” His touch hadn’t zinged through her like Damon’s had when he’d done the same thing. “But it’s weird that you won’t let Jax or his lieutenants speak to the women.”

King swirled the liquid in his glass. “Does nothing terrify you?”

“No,” she said, her voice going hoarse. “Nothing.”

He looked up, his gaze intense. “What if your child had lived?

She leaned back. Hurt imploded in her torso.

He held up a hand. “Just listen. Wouldn’t you do anything to protect her if you could?”

April’s throat closed, so she just nodded.

“You’d be terrified of this bacteria and this world. Imagine being nineteen and pregnant right now and right here without having been infected. Knowing that if you touched the wrong surface, or if the wrong person touched you, you could get the illness and die. Or lose your baby.” He grasped her hand.

She pulled away. “We’re not even sure the bacteria still lives on surfaces.”

“Would ‘not sure’ be enough for you in that situation?” he asked calmly.

Probably not. She tipped back her head and emptied her glass. “I’m not Jax, and I haven’t been infected. Let me speak to each member of your church and report back to him. There’s no reason for you to refuse.”

“I’m not refusing,” King said softly. “In fact, I think we should start first thing day after tomorrow, once I get everybody on board with the plan. You can meet with each member, talk to them as long as you’d like, and then make up your own mind about me. About the church. We could really use your help.”

She blinked. The wine rolled through her veins, mellowing her a little. “You’ll let me talk to everybody?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I?” He refilled their glasses. “Now. Let’s return to that first date idea.”