Wrath’s Storm Mari Carr Lila Dubois Copyright © 2021 by Mari Carr and Lila Dubois All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Epilogue Suggested Reading Order About the Authors Chapter One Walt stretched his arms overhead, working the muscles in his shoulders. He’d been hunched over for an hour reviewing slides of bloodwork, something most doctors didn’t do again after college biology, or maybe a virology class in medical school. In his type of medicine, he often had to do it all. Normally, this was the kind of thing he’d assign to the shiny new doctors who rotated through. Working in a high-volume clinic where they’d see a diversity of issues—from acute traumas to routine care—was a great way for doctors to get tons of hands-on experience. But it was late, his current set of docs had all gone to their bunks, and, frankly, he was faster than they were. He didn’t mind teaching, but between instructing and the natural nervousness of baby docs, everything took a hell of a lot longer than if he just did it himself. He stripped off his PPE and washed his hands before grabbing his computer and taking it out onto the concrete patio. The patio area served as a waiting room, a triage center if things were really bad, and his living room, since every bit of space in the clinic besides his bedroom was devoted to medical care. He sat back in one of the woven chairs and popped open his computer. He’d only been working for half an hour when he heard footsteps approach from the darkness. He repressed an exhausted sigh and stood, turning back to the building, where various doors led out onto the large patio. Instead of his “lab” room, he headed for one of the exam rooms, leaving the door open behind him. There were people who wouldn’t come to him during the day. Oftentimes women with more personal concerns, but sometimes the occasional man who was experiencing anything from embarrassing ED, to injuries they’d ignored so that by the time they came to him, it was a salvage situation. “Come on in,” Walt called out in English, then again more hesitantly in French and Spanish, just in case. He was supposed to be studying Arabic in his free time. Free time. Ha. One of the nurses at the clinic was local and acted as a translator. She’d taught him a few helpful phrases in Nafusi, the Berber language many of the locals spoke, but not enough for him to confidently communicate with a patient. He’d call her to come in if needed. He listened to the sound of footsteps on concrete as he put on a fresh mask and gloves. Whoever was coming was a large person, most likely male, and wearing shoes. It was surprising how much information something so simple as a footstep could reveal. “Hey, Doc.” Walt frowned in surprise and turned. A massive figure stood in the shadows just outside the door, where the overhang of the roof kept the bright light of the moon and stars from reaching. The voice had a distinct Scandinavian accent. Danish, maybe. And it was familiar. It took him several seconds to place it. “Oh, uh, Eric?” Eric was the leader of the Masters’ Admiralty, a European secret society founded around the time of the Black Plague. Honestly, it hadn’t really surprised him to find out there was a secret, shadowy organization in Europe. What had surprised him was to find there was also a society in the United States—the Trinity Masters. He and his siblings had been offered membership to both societies. Sylvia had fallen in love and moved to Europe to join the Masters’ Admiralty. Langston had joined the American secret society and then fallen in love with the couple chosen to be his trinity. They were married now and living in Texas. Oscar had joined the Trinity Masters as well and was about to be “called to the altar” to be placed with his trinity. Not that Oscar knew that yet. Langston and the Grand Master and a few others were in the process of planning a surprise New Year’s Eve wedding. Everyone expected Walt to follow suit—pick a society, join, and agree to an arranged ménage marriage, which was the foundation of both secret societies. Walt wasn’t in a hurry to do that. He hadn’t had a lot of time for romance or relationships, given all his years spent in med school, with the military, and then with Doctors Without Borders, before taking over this small clinic. His career had kept him too busy to date. Regardless, he wasn’t sure he wanted someone telling him who he had to marry. Personally, he preferred to fall in love the old-fashioned way, though he’d never admitted that to his brothers, who would most likely give him shit for the romantic sentiment. Walt had only met Eric once, and he’d found him to be irreverent, though clearly commanding. “Yep.” “What are you doing in Libya?” “That’s a long story. But not why I’m here.” “Sylvie?” It had taken Walt’s brain a moment to get over the surprise and process what Eric’s being there could actually mean. “Your sister’s fine, but I need your help.” “What’s wrong?” In response, Eric stepped through the open door and into the electric light of the exam room. At well over six feet and heavily muscled, his nickname of “the Viking” fit him. Especially now. Because Eric was covered in blood. Walt turned to the counter, snapped up a pair of safety scissors, and started for Eric. His questions, and he had a lot, no longer mattered. All that could wait until after he
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