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  Oath of Honor

  Radclyffe

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  Oath Of hOnOr

  Acclaim for Radcly f fe’s Fiction

  2010 RWA / FF&P Prism award winner Secrets in the Stone “is a

  strong, must read novel that will linger in the minds of readers long

  after the last page is turned.”— Just About Write

  Foreword Review Book of the Year finalist and IPPY silver medalist

  Trauma Alert “is hard to put down and it will sizzle in the reader’s

  hands. The characters are hot, the sex scenes explicit and explosive,

  and the book is moved along by an interesting plot with well drawn

  secondary characters. The real star of this show is the attraction

  between the two characters, both of whom resist and then fall head

  over heels.”— Lambda Literary Reviews

  Lambda Literary Finalist Best Lesbian Romance 2010 features

  “stories [that] are diverse in tone, style, and subject, making for

  more variety than in many, similar anthologies…well written, each

  containing a satisfying, surprising twist. Best Lesbian Romance series

  editor Radclyffe has assembled a respectable crop of 17 authors for this

  year’s offering.”— Curve Magazine

  In Benjamin Franklin Award finalist Desire by Starlight “Radclyffe

  writes romance with such heart and her down-to-earth characters not

  only come to life but leap off the page until you feel like you know

  them. What Jenna and Gard feel for each other is not only a spark but

  an inferno and, as a reader, you will be washed away in this tumultuous

  romance until you can do nothing but succumb to it.”— Queer Magazine

  Online

  2010 Prism award winner and ForeWord Review Book of the Year

  Award finalist Secrets in the Stone is “so powerfully [written] that the

  worlds of these three women shimmer between reality and dreams…A

  strong, must read novel that will linger in the minds of readers long

  after the last page is turned.”— Just About Write

  Lambda Literary Award winner Stolen Moments “is a collection

  of steamy stories about women who just couldn’t wait. It’s sex when

  desire overrides reason, and it’s incredibly hot!”— On Our Backs

  Lambda Literary Award winner Distant Shores, Silent Thunder

  “weaves an intricate tapestry about passion and commitment between

  lovers. The story explores the fragile nature of trust and the sanctuary

  provided by loving relationships.”— Sapphic Reader

  Lambda Literary Award Finalist Justice Served delivers a “crisply

  written, fast-paced story with twists and turns and keeps us guessing

  until the final explosive ending.”— Independent Gay Writer

  Lambda Literary Award finalist Turn Back Time “is filled with

  wonderful love scenes, which are both tender and hot.”— MegaScene

  Applause for L.L. Raand’s

  Midnight Hunters Series

  “Raand has built a complex world inhabited by werewolves, vampires,

  and other paranormal beings…Raand has given her readers a complex

  plot filled with wonderful characters as well as insight into the hierarchy

  of Sylvan’s pack and vampire clans. There are many plot twists and

  turns, as well as erotic sex scenes in this riveting novel that keep the

  pages flying until its satisfying conclusion.”— Just About Write

  “Once again, I am amazed at the storytelling ability of L.L. Raand aka

  Radclyffe. In Blood Hunt, she mixes high levels of sheer eroticism

  that will leave you squirming in your seat with an impeccable multi-

  character storyline all streaming together to form one great read.”

  — Queer Magazine Online

  “The Midnight Hunt has a gripping story to tell, and while there are also

  some truly erotic sex scenes, the story always takes precedence. This is

  a great read which is not easily put down nor easily forgotten.”— Just

  About Write

  “Are you sick of the same old hetero vampire / werewolf story plastered

  in every bookstore and at every movie theater? Well, I’ve got the

  cure to your werewolf fever. The Midnight Hunt is first in, what I

  hope is, a long-running series of fantasy erotica for L.L. Raand (aka

  Radclyffe).”— Queer Magazine Online

  “Any reader familiar with Radclyffe’s writing will recognize the

  author’s style within The Midnight Hunt, yet at the same time it is

  most definitely a new direction. The author delivers an excellent

  story here, one that is engrossing from the very beginning. Raand has

  pieced together an intricate world, and provided just enough details for

  the reader to become enmeshed in the new world. The action moves

  quickly throughout the book and it’s hard to put down.”— Three Dollar

  Bill Reviews

  By Radcly f fe

  Romances

  Innocent Hearts

  Fated Love

  Promising Hearts

  Turn Back Time

  Love’s Melody Lost

  When Dreams Tremble

  Love’s Tender Warriors

  The Lonely Hearts Club

  Tomorrow’s Promise

  Night Call

  Love’s Masquerade

  Secrets in the Stone

  shadowland

  Desire by Starlight

  Passion’s Bright Fury

  Honor Series

  Justice Series

  Above All, Honor

  A Matter of Trust (prequel)

  Honor Bound

  Shield of Justice

  Love & Honor

  In Pursuit of Justice

  Honor Guards

  Justice in the Shadows

  Honor Reclaimed

  Justice Served

  Honor Under Siege

  Justice for All

  Word of Honor

  The Provincetown Tales

  Safe Harbor

  Winds of Fortune

  Beyond the Breakwater

  Returning Tides

  Distant Shores, Silent Thunder

  Sheltering Dunes

  Storms of Change

  First Responders Novels

  Trauma Alert

  Firestorm

  Oath of Honor

  Short Fiction

  Collected Stories by Radclyffe

  Erotic Interludes: Change Of Pace

  Radical Encounters

  Edited by Radclyffe:

  Best Lesbian Romance 2009–2011

  Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe, eds.:

  Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments

  Erotic Interludes 3: Lessons in Love

  Erotic Interludes 4: Extreme Passions

  Erotic Interludes 5: Road Games

  Romantic Interludes 1: Discovery

  Romantic Interludes 2: Secrets

  Breathless: Tales of Celebration

  Women of the Dark Streets

  By L.L. Raand

  Midnight Hunters

  The Midnight Hunt

  Blood Hunt

  Night Hunt

  Visit us at www.boldstro
kesbooks.com

  Oath Of hOnOr

  by

  RADCLY f FE

  2012

  oath of honor

  © 2012 By Radclyffe. all Rights ReseRved.

  isBN 13: 978-1-60282-712-7

  This ElEcTronic Book is PuBlishEd By

  Bold sTrokEs Books, inc.

  P.o. Box 249

  VallEy Falls, ny 12185

  FirsT EdiTion: July 2012

  This is a Work oF FicTion. naMEs, characTErs, PlacEs, and

  incidEnTs arE ThE ProducT oF ThE auThor’s iMaGinaTion or

  arE usEd FicTiTiously. any rEsEMBlancE To acTual PErsons,

  liVinG or dEad, BusinEss EsTaBlishMEnTs, EVEnTs, or localEs

  is EnTirEly coincidEnTal.

  This Book, or ParTs ThErEoF, May noT BE rEProducEd in any

  ForM WiThouT PErMission.

  cRedits

  EdiTors: ruTh sTErnGlanTz and sTacia sEaMan

  ProducTion dEsiGn: sTacia sEaMan

  coVEr dEsiGn By shEri ([email protected])

  Acknowledgments

  Some characters live on in the back of an author’s mind, waiting for the

  right story to come along in which to make an appearance. The First

  Responders series is a group of stories linked by the theme of featuring

  those who serve on the “front lines”: firefighters, law enforcement

  agents, medics, soldiers, environmental engineers, and many others.

  When I conceived of the idea of writing about the First Doctor, the

  physician assigned to the president of the United States, I instantly

  thought of the characters I had created in the Honor series as natural

  cast members, and thus this crossover novel was born. This is a stand-

  alone spin-off from the Honor series, with a new central main pairing,

  but I think those of you who know the Honor series will be happy to see

  a few old friends. Old friends or new, I hope you enjoy!

  Thanks go to Sandy Lowe, for shouldering a gargantuan task with

  energy, enthusiasm, and remarkable calm; to author Nell Stark for close

  reading and expert advice; to Ruth Sternglantz for editing with insight

  and dedication; to Stacia Seaman, for being the one I count on in the

  final stretch; and to my first readers Connie, Eva, Jenny, and Paula for

  reading the early drafts and never failing to encourage.

  Sheri shines, and the covers are always proof of that. Thanks for a great

  one.

  And to Lee, who never falters— Amo te.

  Radclyffe, 2012

  For Lee, for patience, understanding, and belief

  Oath Of hOnOr

  chapter One

  Wes glanced at her watch as she turned off the coast road onto

  the narrow causeway leading to Whitley Island. 1142. With

  luck, she wouldn’t be late. Luck wasn’t something she usually relied on.

  She believed in schedules and ran her life by the clock. Unfortunately,

  death had a way of interrupting even the most finely tuned schedules.

  Until thirty-six hours ago, she’d been looking forward to spending

  her upcoming annual leave with her mother and sisters over Christmas,

  not dealing with a new job, no place to live, and no idea of what the

  next day would bring. She definitely hadn’t planned on attending the

  wedding of the year.

  All that had changed when she’d gotten a call informing her she

  was at the top of a very short list for a job most people in the navy,

  let alone the nation, had never even heard of. The anonymity of the

  position didn’t bother her—in fact, she preferred working alone and

  was happy contributing behind the scenes. The next rung in her planned

  career ladder had been a professorship at the Uniformed Services

  University where she was stationed. She’d joined the navy because

  she’d needed the scholarship to go to medical school, and while she

  liked the structure, she was an academic at heart. She wanted to teach,

  take care of her patients, and let others wage war. She hadn’t been sure

  she wanted a job that was going to throw her into close contact with the

  most powerful people in the world on a daily basis. She’d asked for a

  day to think it over—they’d given her four hours.

  Heading into an unknown situation without the proper preparation

  made her wary. Order, discipline, and perseverance had brought her

  • 13 •

  RADCLY fFE

  from her working-class neighborhood in South Philadelphia to the

  United States Naval Academy at Annapolis and finally to the National

  Military Medical Center in Bethesda. Knowing what she faced—in the

  ER, in the field, in life—kept her cool and in control. If she never relied

  on anyone or anything to run interference for her, she had no one to

  hold accountable for the outcome except herself.

  She’d called her best friend Emory for advice—not just because

  she’d known Emory since they’d shared a cadaver at Penn, but because

  Emory knew intimately the landscape and the people Wes would be

  spending every moment of her life with for the next year, or maybe the

  next five.

  “Are you kidding, Wes?” Emory had said when Wes reached her

  en route to the island. “It’s an amazing opportunity. God, you’ll have

  a front-and-center for events that might change the future of the whole

  world. And you’ll be doing what you’re trained to do.”

  “But I’m a teacher, not a clinician,” she’d protested.

  “Uh, excuse me—don’t you teach trauma care to military medical

  personnel?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And didn’t you spend ten months supervising a field hospital—”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And—”

  “Emory,” Wes said patiently, “I suck at politics.”

  “Huh.” Emory fell silent for a moment. “This is true.”

  “So—”

  “Should I mention honor and duty and—”

  Wes sighed. “No. I already considered that.”

  “And?”

  And she’d said yes to this new job because to do otherwise

  seemed impossible. She’d rarely been faced with impossible decisions,

  and she wasn’t sure yet how she felt about a situation she didn’t

  control. Nevertheless, she’d called her boss, Rear Admiral Cal Wright,

  and said she was honored to accept, and he’d passed the word up the

  chain of command. Her final security interview wasn’t scheduled until

  tomorrow, but she’d been told to liaise with her new unit today. Several

  teleconferenced interviews and a lot of rushed paperwork later, here

  she was.

  Short of any more surprises, she’d be moving her hastily packed

  • 14 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  belongings to a government-provided apartment within walking

  distance of the White House as soon as she could arrange movers. Until

  then, she’d be in a hotel. She was used to moving at short notice, but

  she usually knew what she faced.

  1155. In five minutes, she’d find out.

  She slowed her rental car as a red pickup truck pulling a battered

  fishing boat on a rickety trailer edged onto the narrow two-lane in front

  of her. She could just make out a hard-packed-dirt boat ramp half-hidden

  in a narrow strip of pines separating the winding coast road from the

  pristine shore o
n the ocean side of the island. The pickup headed in the

  opposite direction, probably bound for the huge marina she’d passed

  a half mile back. The marina boatslips, marine offices, and waterside

  cabins that ringed a narrow-necked inlet were the only commercial

  development she’d seen since leaving the mainland.

  Mentally she ran down the stats she’d received by e-mail that

  morning. Whitley Island was privately owned and home to one of the

  largest private military contractors in the nation. Tanner Whitley had

  inherited Whitley Industries on the death of her father over a decade

  before, and she’d expanded into government security as American

  geopolitics exploded globally. Personal info on Whitley was scant.

  She lived with a female naval officer, and from what Wes had seen

  of the island, industrialization had not followed Tanner Whitley home.

  The few visible private residences were separated by large tracts of

  untouched evergreen forests and set well back from the undulating

  shoreline along the Atlantic. The place was wild and beautiful, even

  snow-covered and frozen under the December winter.

  As she’d been driving, the already scant signs of habitation

  gradually disappeared. When she reached the northern end of the island,

  the narrow road ended in a cul-de-sac bordering a wooded property.

  The drive leading up to a pair of closed ten-foot-high wrought-iron

  gates set into a natural stone wall was congested with signs of high-

  level security. Unmarked black SUVs with smoked windows lined the

  turnaround. A man and a woman, both in dark suits, monochromatic

  shirts, and dark glasses, stood side by side in front of the gates.

  Squiggly radio feeds running from behind their left ears and

  steely expressions pegged them as security. The discreet lapel pins,

  conservative suits, and all-American good looks said federal agents.

  These weren’t rent-a-cops or gun-for-hire mercenaries. The man was

  • 15 •

  RADCLY fFE

  six foot four and on the lean side. Wes would have pegged him for

  a runner, except the broad shoulders and solid thighs that stretched

  his not-off-the-rack suit said serious weight training. The woman was

  maybe five-six or seven and looked toned and fit, but next to him, she

  looked downright delicate. Wes doubted she was. Her tailored jacket

  and pants, crisp white opened-collared shirt, and low-heeled black

  boots screamed style while being completely functional. Definitely