Surrender: Saving Setora Book 6

by Dark, Raven

  He sounded like Sheriff. Like a leader.

  The Dark Legion marched toward the main floor of the mansion and then along the corridors toward the front doors. A couple of minutes after we’d left that torture chamber, a horn blared from outside.

  We took our time. Here and there, we passed doors to other rooms. J’nai shouted and the doors rattled.

  Hawk and the others ignored them.

  So did I.

  All I had to do was look at Sheriff draped over Steel’s shoulder, to look at Steel and Doc, both moving like they were half dead, and a seething fiery emotion I’d never felt before silenced any urge to help the captive J’nai.

  This was more than revenge. More than anger. It was rage. Pure, unstoppable rage, burning through my soul and heating my blood.

  “Let us out, you sons of bitches!” someone yelled, hammering at a closed door.

  “You can’t do this to us, Legion!” another guard shouted.

  “Go fuck yourselves,” Pretty Boy muttered. He put his arm around me and kept walking.

  None of the Legion disputed him.

  Neither did I.

  Instead, I rested my head on his shoulder as we walked on.

  “Fellas, wait.” Doc said, stopping in a hall halfway through the mansion.

  When everyone looked at him, he turned to me. “Setora, that Doctor Olan must have given Damien instructions for your care.”

  “Yes, he did, Doc, why?”

  “Did Damien give you anything like the antiseizure medication Doctor Olan prescribed for you?”

  “Yes, every morning. He had Griesha give me exactly the same thing. It worked, too. No nightmares about Julian, and no appearance at all while I was here.”

  Doc nodded and looked at Hawk, but it was Pretty Boy who spoke up. “If there’s some of that stuff here, we’ll get it.” He glanced at Steel, then at me. “Where’s Griesha’s lab?”

  I quickly led the men down a few halls to the laboratory where I’d always gone to see Griesha for checkups. At the doors to the lab, Pretty Boy glanced in and then waved at Steel, Doc, and me to follow him inside.

  Steel handed Sheriff over to Hawk, who carefully put the General over his shoulder.

  “Where did this Griesha keep the medication, Princess?”

  I went to a cabinet filled with elixirs and remedies. Pretty Boy, Steel, and Doc followed. Doc looked with interest around the lab, with its microscopes, beakers, and other medical equipment.

  “There’s a key to that lock in here somewhere.” I nodded to the cabinet doors, behind which rows of bottles were visible, then hunted around the room for any sign of the key to the lock.

  “Hurry it up, you two.” Hawk adjusted Sheriff’s weight on his shoulder. “We have less than half an hour before Julian’s men show up. We need to be far away from here when they do.”

  “Forget about the key, Petal.” Steel smashed the cabinet’s window with his fist. It shattered. Doc and he searched through the bottles until they found the one with the right label.

  “This is the one.” Doc stowed a few bottles of antiseizure pills in a pocket of his cut. Then he swiped a few other bottles—some filled with powders, some with liquids—and pocketed those as well.

  For some crazy reason, seeing these men looting the lab gave me a thrill, watching my pirates at work. It was strange to see Doc going through the bottles, quickly picking out ones he liked and making them disappear into every pocket available.

  “What?” He grinned, seeing me shake my head at him with a smile of my own. “My storage needs restocking.”

  Steel and Pretty Boy chuckled and handed him more bottles.

  “Boys,” Hawk drawled.

  “We’re coming, Hawk, we’re coming.” Pretty Boy led the way out of the lab. Doc made one more bottle disappear before following the rest of the men and me toward the mansion’s front entrance.

  At the main doors, Pretty Boy gave a horrible grin. “Get ready to run, all of you.” He held up the bag in his hand. Then he turned, strode back into the front hall, and fished out what looked like three metal cylinders. He tossed all of them hard across the room, then tore back through the door after us.

  Everyone ran. I was in Hawk’s arms and far from the mansion’s front doors with the rest of the men by the time the explosion went off.

  The front of the mansion blew apart with a roar of flame and a shattering of stone from stone. The top floor crumbled, falling inward and flattening the other floor beneath.

  I watched the whole place go up like a fireball. A frightening satisfaction settled in me.

  Pretty Boy and Hawk checked the area, but no guards appeared. I saw two of them lying near the booth by the mansion’s front gates, unmoving.

  We made our way to Damien’s garage and Pretty Boy threw a canister inside. By the time the whole wing went up in flames, we were already headed back toward the mansion gates.

  Two flying carriages zoomed overhead and then landed on the driveway in front of the gates, Bear and Grim at the wheels. The rest of us piled into the vehicles, Steel laying Sheriff across the inside of one carriage’s back compartment. I climbed in beside him.

  As the house that had once been my world went to hell in a blaze of violence and sweet death, two things hit me full on.

  One, Damien, the one-time master who’d been the dark shadow over my life for so long, was dead. He was gone. Never to hurt me and those I loved ever again.

  And two, someone else had died today, too. The woman I was when Olan had brought me here.

  When I’d been taken from this house what seemed like a thousand years ago now, I’d been a slave trained to serve the upper echelon. I’d had no choice. But today, I left this place with my men a new woman.

  I’d left as one of them.

  I was a road rat.

  A pirate.

  A Kitten. A Petal. A Princess. A Little Spy.

  I was one hundred percent Legion.

  I was Setora.

  And I was theirs.

  Chapter 23

  Something Wrong

  We rode in silence.

  When we’d reached the Wall to Hell’s Burning, the guards there had tried to stop us, just as they had when Pretty Boy and Steel had stolen me from here months ago. With most of Damien’s carriages gone, and Pretty Boy and Blade apparently having destroyed the ones used by the J’nai who patrolled the compound, only one carriage flew after us.

  “Wait,” Pretty Boy told Grim as the Undertaker drove toward the gates. “I have a better idea. Turn this thing around.”

  Grim followed Pretty Boy’s instructions, flying over the compound toward the back Wall. The carriage cleared the wall and I looked out the window as we hovered above the ground.

  Below us, a long trench of water flowed from a pond, the spring disappearing under the Wall.

  Damien’s water supply, which ran under the length of the compound. Instead of being stagnant, the water flowed fast today.

  “Perfect,” Pretty Boy said, fishing out another canister from his bag.

  “What are you up to, imp?” Steel grinned.

  “Go lower, Grim,” he said without answering him.

  Grim lowered the carriage to within fifteen feet of the trench.

  Pretty Boy tossed the canister out the window. I saw it drop into the trench with a small splash. He let out a wild yodel and Grim swore, tearing away from the compound just as a carriage appeared over the wall and started after us.

  Behind us, a half a minute later, a series of fiery explosions went off, houses and streets engulfed in a fireball.

  Other J’nai who made it out of the compound ahead of the blast tried to give chase on their own silent, electrical-powered bikes, but the vehicles quickly fell back behind the much faster carriages Lord Bain had given us. Pretty Boy threw the last canister at the one carriage pursuing us when it came close, shattering the passenger’s side window. The carriage exploded, killing its driver and the four J’nai inside.

  Hawk, whose
bow had been left in the carriage he was in, fired shot after shot at the few J’nai who’d kept up with us long enough. Bolts flew and J’nai died.

  Even as the Compound dropped farther behind us, smaller explosions ripped through the place, spitting open the ground, toppling buildings and sending the entire place collapsing in on itself.

  And burying the hundreds of J’nai who called it home.

  We left Hell’s Burning still blazing, black smoke rising into the sky and blotting out the desert sun.

  The dark chapter of my life that had dominated my past was over, dead and buried under a pile of rubble and ash.

  The ride to the new camp might have been an hour or five. I was wrapped in such a thick fog of fear for Sheriff and shock over all that had happened, there was no way I would have been able to tell. While Grim drove, Doc, Steel, Pretty Boy and I knelt around Sheriff, who lay across the floor of the carriage. The rest of the Legion was crammed into the back of the other carriage with Bear.

  According to Steel, the four men under Hawk’s command had been told to ride ahead with the bikes and supplies, to meet us somewhere not far from the camp, but well hidden from any of the J’nai who were still alive and might find us.

  Or, from Tahmi and his men, who would no doubt come tearing after us as soon as they showed up in Hell’s Burning and found it destroyed and me gone.

  Except for the shaky rise and fall of his chest, Sheriff didn’t move a muscle. His eyes were closed, his hand heavy and cold in mine. Tears fell as I sat behind Sheriff with his head in my lap, stroking his forehead, his face, hating how cold his skin felt under my fingers, but needing to touch him, to feel him there. At some point Steel must have moved in behind me, because I felt his huge arms around me. I let my head fall back on his chest and he stroked my hair, whispering in my ear. I didn’t register the words, but his soothing voice kept me going, kept me sane.

  Doc checked over Sheriff again and again, tracking his pulse, listening to his heart with a stethoscope from his medical bag.

  Steel and I had bombarded him with questions, along with Grim, but no one was asking them now. We’d stopped when he either refused to give us answers, or he didn’t have them to give.

  The obvious next step, I’d thought, would be to return to the Grotto. It was only half-a-day’s ride away, and Doc would have had access to his infirmary there. But we didn’t go back to the Grotto. I didn’t have the presence of mind to ask why, too numb to form the words.

  We landed amidst a large cluster of high cliffs in the desert, with plenty of deep caverns for cover. I was only half aware of the commotion of the camp being set up, of Hawk giving orders. Of the bikes belonging to Hawk’s men and the carriages with the other bikes being hidden in deep caverns. Of Steel and Hawk carrying Sheriff into a deep cave that had been set up as an infirmary and laying him on a bed of furs.

  “Master?” I said in a quiet voice, catching Hawk as he was giving the camp a final check to make sure all was hidden from anyone who might drop in.

  He nodded and massaged my nape.

  “Why…um.” I was so exhausted, I could barely form the thoughts to speak. “Why don’t we go back to the Grotto? It isn’t far, and Sheriff…” I trailed off, my chest tight.

  “We can’t go back yet.” His eyes were on the furs where Sheriff lay. “We can’t lead Julian’s hounds back there.”

  “Oh. Right.” My own voice sounded far away and shaky.

  The Grotto was hidden well enough that men who came and went from it could slip in and out without pursuers figuring out where they went, but I could tell Hawk didn’t want to take the risk that they’d somehow catch on. Even though we knew Julian couldn’t gain access to me unless I was asleep, I wondered if perhaps Hawk didn’t want to take the chance that he might somehow use me to find out where the Grotto was, with his men being as close as they likely were.

  I followed Hawk to Sheriff’s side.

  As soon as I saw him, a lump formed in my throat.

  Not unlike Steel had been after the fight at the Dreg camp, the Dark Legion’s General lay across a bed of furs, a thin sheet covering his naked form up to the middle of his muscled chest. A roll of more furs propped up his head. His skin looked deathly pale in the low light from the fire that had been set up nearby. His eyes were closed, his breathing low and ragged.

  Hawk and I knelt beside him. Hawk’s expression was stoic as he leaned back on his knees, but I could sense that he hated seeing Sheriff like this as much as I did. I could see it in the hard set of his shoulders, the dark shadows on his face.

  Kneeling on Sheriff’s other side, Doc finished checking him over and sat back on his knees. Sheriff’s face was white as death and had a hollow appearance that unsettled me.

  “How is he, Doc?” Hawk’s deep voice rumbled.

  Doc sighed and put his stethoscope around his neck. He looked at the ceiling. “He’s…” His voice sounded off, throaty. “What I’m most concerned about are his lungs. He’s got a lot of fluid in them. And he’s getting a fever. A high one. The hypothermia is gone. But he won’t wake.”

  “Why?” Beside Doc, Pretty Boy looked close at Sheriff’s face.

  “Well, here’s the thing. There’s no sign of a stroke. He responds to stimuli, and his motor functions seem normal. He has no other injuries. I think he’s just recovering. His body’s been through the ringer, and he’s going to need a shit ton of rest. I won’t know more until he wakes up.”

  I sniffed and blinked back hot tears. First Steel, and now this.

  Hawk ran both his hands down his face, not unlike Sheriff did when he was agitated. “When he wakes up, what are we looking at here, Doc?”

  Doc bowed his head for a moment, then looked the club’s Under General in the eye. “Hawk, he nearly froze to death in that hole, and then, with the water torture, he was repeatedly deprived of oxygen. He could have anything from memory loss, to brain damage, to paralysis. Without being able to find out more until he’s awake, my biggest concern now is that he doesn’t end up with pneumonia. He needs to wake up and cough up that shit in his lungs. I want to start him on a course of antibiotics as soon as possible.”

  “Wait, Doc, paralysis?” I squeaked.

  Doc set his hand firmly on mine. “It’s possible, yes, but he could also be perfectly fine. There’s no way to know. For now, enough speculating. There’s nothing we can do for Sheriff now except wait and see. Steel, Blade, get over here. You were in that hole with us, I want to check you two over. Steel, let me check those fingers.”

  Both men started complaining when Doc got up and went over to them.

  “Blade, Steel just do as he says, please.” Hawk stood heavily and sat on a crate near Sheriff. “Come here, Kitten.” He pulled me onto his lap.

  Steel muttered under his breath but flopped onto another crate. Blade followed suit.

  While Doc checked both men over, Hawk closed his arms tightly around me. I watched numbly as Doc unwrapped Steel’s fingers, examining them. Guilt stabbed at me, seeing the bruising on them, but at least they looked like they were healing, thank the Maker.

  “It doesn’t look like you did any further damage while you and Pretty Boy were kicking the shit out of all those J’nai, but I’ll give you something for the pain.” Doc took out a small bottle of pain medication from inside his cut.

  Steel grumbled again, but Doc gave him a quick injection, then wrapped his fingers again. Steel’s gaze was fixed on Sheriff, not even seeming to notice what Doc did.

  My heart hurt for Sheriff, but also for all of his men, seeing him like that. I wanted to curl up in Hawk’s arms and cry, to let out the misery that, only now, was starting to sink in. There was just too much to process. Too much had happened to us, to this club, to my men. A small part of me wondered how I hadn’t cracked after all of it. How we all hadn’t.

  Except I couldn’t break now. I needed to be strong. With Sheriff down and with no way of knowing how bad off he might be when he finally awakened, my men didn’t n
eed my feminine frailties getting in the way.

  So I wrapped my arms around Hawk’s waist, rested my head on his chest and drew all the strength from him I could. I drew on his strength, on the endless calm that was him.

  Hawk massaged my back in slow, soothing circles. Meeting his eyes, the concern in their still black depths made my heart ache all the more.

  I turned and made myself look at Sheriff, made myself watch the living, breathing rise and fall of his chest.

  “You’re both fine.” Doc’s voice cut into my thoughts. He clapped Steel and Blade on the shoulders. “Go get something hot into you. The guys are making stew out there, I think.”

  Blade reluctantly stood, but instead of leaving the cave, his gaze froze on Sheriff.

  “I’ll stay with Sheriff, Doc.” Steel settled more firmly on his crate.

  “Fine, but I want you to get warm first, you’re still a little chilled.”

  He sighed and dragged himself out of the cave with Blade.

  “You okay, Kitten?” Hawk’s breath was warm on my ear.

  I nodded. “I’m fine. It’s Sheriff I’m worried about.”

  Pretty Boy knelt in front of us and stroked my hair. I’d forgotten he was there until I felt his warm hand on me.

  “We all are,” Hawk whispered. “Doc, come here.”

  When Doc came over, Hawk nodded to me.

  Doc’s mouth pulled on a wince. He knelt beside me and turned my head gently so that my cheek was facing him.

  Oh, Maker, I’d forgotten. Damien had hit me.

  “Fuck, who did that to you?” Pretty Boy demanded.

  “That’s a good bruise on your cheek, but it’s already yellow,” Doc said before I could answer. “Damien walloped her after he put Sheriff and Steel and I in that hole.”

  “Fucker,” Pretty Boy snarled.

  “I’m fine, Master, really.” I squeezed his hand.

  “Does it hurt, Setora?” Doc asked.

  I shook my head. “Not anymore. And before you ask,” I paused, offering him a smile, “I have no headache, and no nausea.”