Oliver became a madman, making matters much, much worse. There was no way to protect everyone from him, and the moment the team members were wounded, he acted as though they were enemies to be fallen on and torn apart, just as he had the assassins Jonas had sought to eliminate earlier.
“I had no choice, Camellia, I swear to you. They were helpless, some in bad shape, the others trying to shoot at the snipers pinning us down and covering the wounded with their own bodies or trying to stop the bleeding to keep those wounded alive. I dragged Oliver off Jeff. Kyle was trying to cover him. Jeff was badly wounded, and Kyle was doing his best to keep him from bleeding out. Oliver kicked Kyle in the ribs and head, and then threw him out into the open where the snipers above us could shoot him.”
Camellia gasped, seeing the images in his mind, the way everything happened so fast and the split-second decisions he’d had to make. Jonas used his speed and strength to save Kyle. Running so fast he was nothing but a blur, he caught up to Kyle, realized instantly he had broken ribs and simply carried him, attempting to shield him with his body as he sprinted back to the limited shelter of the rocks. Nicolas Trevane and Ian McGillicuddy, their sharpshooters, gave them covering fire.
Ryland fought off Oliver in an effort to prevent him from killing Jeff. Oliver had torn at Jeff’s wound, trying to rip it open further, laughing gleefully, yelling he would tear out Jeff’s heart and eat it. He sounded maniacal. Oliver was abnormally strong, nearly crushing Ryland in spite of Ryland’s enhancements. It was only Jonas’s powerful snapping front kick delivered to Oliver’s thigh, giving him a dead leg, that forced him to turn his attention to Jonas.
He dropped Ryland and turned with a cruel, distorted grin on his face. “Jonas. They really think they can stop us. We can kill them all. Let’s take them together.”
“Oliver, we’re sworn to protect these men. They’re our friends. Our teammates. We’re surrounded by the enemy. Right now, we need to concentrate on killing them, not fighting among ourselves.” Jonas did his best to circle around Oliver to put his body between his team and his best friend.
“Weaklings, look at them. No one can take us.” Oliver shouted it and then rushed out into the open, exposing himself to the snipers above them on the rocks. Multiple shots were fired. He leapt into the air, giving the enemy the finger and laughing with delight. No bullet touched him. He ripped his shirt from his body, threw it down and declared himself invincible.
He walked slowly back to stand behind the slim wall of rocks and glared at Jonas. “You’re either with me or against me. I’m going to kill them all. Everyone. Either they’re worthy of living or not. Stand with me, brother.”
“You know I can’t do that, Oliver.”
“Then you’re going to die. Right here. Right now.”
Camellia winced at the sight of Oliver’s snarling, twisted face, a mask now, so distorted, his mouth foaming and bubbling until long strings of saliva hung down on either side of his jaw. The fight was vicious and brutal, a terrible savage brawl more animal than human, two lethal predators coming together in a fight to the death. She had never seen anything like it, and she never wanted to again. Jonas knew he shouldn’t share the images with her, his intimate memories of that brutal killing, but he wanted her to understand his fears for their future.
Jonas buried his face in her neck. “Do you see what I’m afraid of for you? For any children we might have together, Camellia? I never want to turn on the ones I love the most. First it was Oliver and then his brothers. Whatever concoction Whitney put into them, he put into me.” He tightened his arms around her, holding her to him. The last thing he wanted to do was give her up, but what else could he do if he was going to protect her?
“Jonas, look at me.”
Her voice. That soft, gentle tone that wrapped him up in silk and peace. In all the good the world had to give. That was Camellia. Whitney had failed to twist her into something dark or terrible. She was Jonas’s personal miracle. He lifted his head and looked down at her, into those eyes that held so many secrets.
His breath caught in his throat at what he saw there. His lungs burned. His heart hurt, thundering in his chest. Camellia’s long lashes framed her blue eyes, windows to the soul some said. And if that was the truth, he was looking at love. The real damn thing. Raw. Honest. A gift beyond any price. After what she’d just witnessed, it made no sense, and that meant all the more.