Free Ravyn's Flight by Patti O'Shea

Most people don’t unless I mention it.”
    Damon frowned slightly. She’d looked away from him, centering her attention on the ground in front of her. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to take away even that small remnant of hurt, but she’d put a distance between them without so much as moving a centimeter.
    “I remember,” he told her when her eyes finally shifted back to his. He debated whether to add more and decided to tell her the rest. “I was in my first year at Yale. A bunch of us had reservations at that hotel the following week for spring break.”
    Again, she was quiet for a moment before asking, “So where did you end up going instead?”
    “The rest of them went to Florida, where else?”
    “You didn’t go?”
    Damon shifted a bit farther from Ravyn. “I couldn’t. It seemed wrong to go somewhere and have fun when people had died. When it hit so close to home.” He just about groaned when he saw she had tears in her eyes again. Damn, he knew he should have kept quiet. The loss of her mother couldn’t be easy to talk about even though it had happened so long ago.
    “You were pretty sensitive for a teenager,” she said thickly. Then she surprised the hell out of him by reaching out and running her fingertips fleetingly across his hand.
    In his shock, Damon nearly jerked his arm back. Instead, he cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the idea that she thought he was sensitive. Soldiers were not sensitive. He opened his mouth, but closed it in a hurry when he realized how close she was. He wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed to move without him being aware of it, but the thought went right out of his head when she placed two fingers lightly against his lips.
    “I know,” she said, her voice low, “you’re dying to deny you’re sensitive. To tell me you’re a Spec Ops officer, not some sissy. I know you’re tough, Captain.”
    He couldn’t quite tear his gaze away from the soft smile she had on her face. Ravyn caught him flatfooted again when she pressed her lips against his cheek.
    “Goodnight.” She rolled away, her back to him, before he was able to gather his wits enough to react.
    Slowly, Damon brought his hand up and briefly touched the spot she’d kissed. He could swear it buzzed. All he could do for quite some time was stare at her. When he realized her deep, even breathing meant she had fallen asleep again, he returned to his back and tucked an arm behind his head. He was going to have to watch himself. Her nearness had been too disturbing, her touch too exciting. Even now every cell in his body vibrated with pleasure and all from a simple, innocent peck on the cheek.
    Damon willed his mind to still, his body to calm, but they didn’t obey him. He’d had more control over himself in the middle of his first firefight as a green second lieutenant. The realization did not please him. Neither did the knowledge that he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep that night.
    With an effort, he managed to wrench his thoughts away from Ravyn. What came to mind was even more unsettling. He saw his team, his friends, in the clearing. Even with his eyes open, he could see them as clearly as he had when they’d found them. His jaw tightened until a muscle began to tic.
    What had the power to disarm and murder six of the toughest men in the Western Alliance?
    Damon scowled into the night. Crossing one booted foot over the other, he ran through what he knew again. It didn’t take long. The list of unanswered questions took a lot more time. Most puzzling of all was the pattern in which the bodies had been arranged. What was it? He could sense it was important. Squinting, he brought the scene into his mind’s eye and studied it.
    A lightning bolt!
    Damon sat upright in a hurry. Shit. His men had been arranged in a zigzag pattern that was supposed to represent a lightning bolt. Unfortunately, this bit of knowledge didn’t make anything clearer. It just raised more questions.
    He tried to