Falling for Them Volume 3: Reverse Harem Collection

by Amy Sumida

  Genji kneels and shines a light into my eyes. “Does your head still hurt, Kitten?”

  I nod. “It’s more like a really bad headache now, though. Before, it was like my brain was liquefying and trying to explode all at once.”

  He takes my temperature and finishes his ministrations to the rest of the guys.

  Everyone gathers in an informal meeting, and Kent starts as soon as Declan thunders back into the room. “I think you accessed the memory of your tattoos being given. That fire is what it felt like for each of us, but to a lesser extent, because I think we were probably older and had smaller areas affected. If there was as much pain as you’re describing, then I think someone has put a block on your memory. You were literally trying to break through it when Genji asked you to think back, hence the headache.”

  I snort at the idea of what I’d felt being just a headache, but I don’t stop him. These guys are incredibly intelligent, and I’m hoping they can help me find answers.

  Kent focuses on me. “What was the voice saying, Guine? Can you remember?”

  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.

  “She was saying to ‘protect my secrets’ and then ‘kill them all’.” There’s a collective inhale when I tell them that, and I rush to continue. “I tried to fight against it, because I didn’t want to kill anyone, and that’s when she said ‘the Old Ones must die.’” I hang my head, ashamed for hurting them, and the room lapses into thoughtful silence.

  “It did feel like you were pulling your punches, love,” Hawk rumbles.

  I glance at him, surprised by the name, and he gives me a gentle smile.

  Ash flexes his fingers on his newly healed hand a few times and adds, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she could’ve pulled my arm off, but she just crushed it instead.” He winks to let me know he isn’t mad, and I offer him a wobbly smile of gratitude.

  Everyone talks about how much worse it could’ve been, and they come to the consensus that I was trying to stop myself.

  “So you’re saying this could’ve turned into a massacre instead of a maiming?” I quip, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Getting up from the floor, I swing my arms around. I need to move before the nervous energy that boils inside consumes me.

  A few of them chuckle as I pace.

  “Guine, I think there’s a lot more to you than any of us know, you included,” Kent says, his voice gentle. “I want you to watch the videos of this morning’s session outside and our post-breakfast melee, and see what you can learn. Phoenix and Declan will help you. After lunch, I want you to join me and Declan once more to test your weapons knowledge.” He turns to the rest of the room. “Ashton, Hawk. You have mapping to do. We need a clearer picture of where these women have gone missing, as well as where the bodies have been found. Phoenix, I believe we’re going to need to outfit Guine completely. Harnesses for a variety of weapons, if you will. Ji, I need to talk to you.”

  Everyone disburses to their assigned tasks, and Phoenix and Declan lead me back to the stairwell. We go down both flights of stairs this time, and suddenly we’re in a labyrinth of rooms and hallways.

  “If you keep your left hand on the wall and follow it through the first eleven turns, you’ll find the control room,” Phoenix informs me. “I built it to be confusing down here, but there are a lot of little tricks you’ll eventually learn to help you find your way. For now, make sure you don’t come down here without one of us.”

  We enter a room covered in screens and computers. The cold air hums with electricity. We each take a sweater from a row of pegs by the door and get situated. Phoenix types for a moment and then pulls up the videos.

  Chapter Six

  I don’t understand what’s happening on the monitor. The person on the screen doesn’t look anything like me. She moves like a warrior with an agility I’ve never experienced.

  “More like warrior princess,” Phoenix smirks.

  “Did I say that out loud?”

  He and Declan nod, trying to stifle their laughter.

  Oops.

  I wave at the screen. “What am I supposed to learn from watching this? I’m terrified of this girl. She could’ve killed someone!”

  As the second video begins, I watch in horror.

  On screen, I sit on the floor, clutching my head and screaming when fury flashes across my face and I launch at Genji. I break off the end of the table with one chop of my hand and try to slam it into his chest. Declan side tackles me, taking a grazing hit to his pectoral muscle and preventing me from killing the healer—my friend. During the fight, my face flashes between savage cunning and pained struggle.

  Phoenix winces when the onscreen version of me kicks his knee back in on itself, and I cry out when I watch myself snap Ash’s arm like a matchstick. Kent, Hawk, Phoenix, and Declan circle me, working in unison to get me down, and I still manage to hurt them all before my sanity returns.

  The video stops, and we stare at the blank screen in silence.

  “Do you think it could happen again?” I choke out.

  I jump up and they flinch. Hurt radiates through my chest at their response, and I back away from them. Declan wipes his expression clear and rises, coming toward me. His movement spurs me into action when I realize the possibility of a relapse into the other me.

  When I race for the door, Declan catches ahold of me first. “Wait, Mo Chroí. You’ll get lost if you go alone.”

  I yank my hand out of his grasp and whirl around on him.

  “Let me go!” I scream as panic takes hold. “I need to get out of here before I flip-out on you again. You’re the good guys, and I have to stay as far away from you as possible!”

  Tears slip from my eyes, and I duck under his arm before either of them can stop me. I run blindly through the labyrinth, finding myself in the stairwell with no idea how I got here.

  Footsteps rapidly descend from the floor above, and Kent halts with a startled jump, almost dropping his cell phone when he sees me. “Guine, how’d you get in here?”

  His words sting my already aching heart. He types something into his phone and then slides it into his pocket. My eyes mist over, and I burst into sobs. He steps closer to place a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I distractedly realize I still wear the sweater from the control room. I shrug it off and hang it limply over my arm.

  He crinkles his eyes with worry, and his tone softens. “Guine. Violet. I’m just happy you’re not lost. It surprised me that you got out of the maze so quickly.”

  He hands me a handkerchief, and I try to stifle my tears.

  “How’d you find your way out?”

  Now that I know his question comes from a place of concern for me, not criticism, I think about it as I dab my eyes and blow unattractively into the cloth. “I could hear the echoes,” I hiccup, “I remembered the corridor opening here, and I could tell from the way the air moved and the way my footsteps sounded throughout the turns.” I pause as something clicks in my head. “Wait. I couldn’t have gotten out the same way I came in, could I?”

  He gives me a ghost of a smile and shakes his head. “ This whole level was designed to confuse, and you can’t simply retrace your steps. Nyx has done some amazing work with the technology of the very structure itself. The whole basement’s constructed of materials he developed, and he’s programmed it so the layout alters once passed through, making you take a different route on the way back. Your senses are incredible.”

  “But that’s not normal, is it?” I murmur under my breath. I’ve never been able to navigate like this before. The changes taking place within me are terrifying.

  Is it because I’m free?

  I glance at the soiled cloth in my hands and flush in embarrassment. “I’ll wash this and return it to you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Keep it.” He puts a finger under my chin and lifts my head until I meet his gaze. “It’s time to stop running. This is your home now.” He smiles at the fabric clutched in my fist. “We’ll get you your own things. But
for now, be prepared to accept gifts from your new family. Accept them, and us.”

  I open my mouth to protest, but he places a finger against my lips. “No, please don’t argue about this. We’re all dangerous at times, but we trust one another to be in control of it. You’re discovering a new facet of yourself, Guine. There’s bound to be a learning curve. Trust us to take care of ourselves and if needed, to subdue you like we did before.”

  He runs a hand through his unbound hair and sighs. “Genji is looking into ways to overcome the compulsions we believe you to be under, and I promise he’ll succeed in finding a way to help break through it. We think that by consuming the blackthorn, you’ve begun the process already.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding and he smiles a bit broader.

  “Come on. I’ve set up the training arena with a variety of weapons I think you’ll enjoy.” He nudges me with his elbow. “Show me what you can do.”

  His eyes sparkle with mischief, and I can’t help but want to join in on his fun. It’s a new concept to me. Fun. I choose to trust his offer, and follow him outside with a fresh bounce in my step.

  I can do this.

  Declan meets us outside, and since he ignores my storming out, I follow his lead. We play with blades of all shapes and sizes, and I even get to sword fight with Kent. It quickly becomes obvious I’m more than proficient with every type of sharp edged weapon on the table, and we move on to the blunt ones.

  “This one’s a quarterstaff,” Declan intones.

  He stares only at my forehead, and I wipe at it, trying to see if there’s something on my face. He grips the weapon tightly with two hands and gives each side a quick twist in opposite directions. It separates with a click, revealing wicked spikes protruding from the interior. He reassembles it and tosses it to Kent, who in turn, tosses it to me.

  I snatch it from the air and whirl it overhead before pulling it back, flush with my underarm as I step into a crouch. A chuckle from behind makes me leap around and swing the far end up toward the person sneaking up on me.

  Genji coughs, pushing the tip away from his Adam’s apple. “I think it’s safe to say she knows how to handle this one, too.”

  I cringe and pull the staff away from his throat. “Hi,” I offer in apology.

  He smiles and slings an arm around my shoulders in a sideways hug.

  “Hello again, Kitten. Don’t let me interrupt your fun. I’m here in case I’m needed after the next part.”

  I lift my brows. “Care to elaborate?”

  He shakes his head and nudges me back toward Kent and Declan.

  “Guine, it’s time to test your hand-to-hand combat. It’s apparent you’ve had extensive training, but I need to assess where you stand in regards to martial arts, wrestling, grappling, and brawling.” Kent glances at Declan, who steps in front of me. “Dec is going to lead the attack at first, and then we’ll try with you instigating. Don’t hold back, either of you. Ji’s here to clean up whatever mess you make.” He winks at me before whistling sharply for us to prepare.

  My mind races at Kent’s assessment, and I don’t really know what to do with the information. He says I’ve been trained, and the evidence supports his theory, but for as far back as I can remember, I was only ever a blood slave, taught to be subservient and docile. I have no memories of weapons or battle or anything of the sort.

  Declan’s foot slides sideways, and I instinctively drop into a defensive crouch, evaluating every minuscule move as he circles. He lunges forward, and I sidestep his swinging arms with ease. He repeats the motion, and I dance out of his reach again. The third time he telegraphs his move, I roll my eyes and huff with frustration.

  “Seriously?” I bark out. I saw how he performed during morning training, and that was nothing like this crap. He’s doing this on purpose, and it pisses me off.

  When he telegraphs again, I spring into action and kick him firmly in the behind, making him stumble. As he makes a half-effort grab for me, I sweep his feet out from under him like I did last night and put a foot on his chest, holding him down.

  “Are you going to keep doing your worst, or will you actually try next time?” I challenge him with extra pressure from my foot, but he won’t meet my gaze. When he doesn’t answer, I turn to Kent. “Looks like it’s up to you.”

  He nods, and darts at me in a blur of motion. He has me twisted with my back to his front before the movement even registers.

  Declan roars and pulls Kent off of me, throwing him half a dozen feet back. “You’ll hurt her!”

  His chest heaves and the vein in the side of his neck pulses rapidly. His icy blue eyes go wild and he seems a little unhinged.

  “Declan,” I speak softly, trying to calm him. “Kent wasn’t doing anything wrong.” Declan doesn’t move, so I step around to stand between the two. His face turns red and his fists shake. “Declan.” No response. “Dec,” I try again.

  His pupils dilate and I keep going.

  I pat the air with both palms forward in a placating manner. “Mo Cluaiste, sweetie, I’m fine. Are you? We’re just training, remember?”

  He bellows an anguished howl and retreats back into the cabin like a rampaging beast. I ignore the shouts from Kent and Genji, and chase after him.

  Something’s wrong with him.

  I follow Declan into the house with no idea where he’s gone. Closing my eyes, I try to access the newly awakened Huntress within me. I ask her to help me find him.

  Oh, so now you want my help?

  Great, now I’m talking to myself?

  Yep.

  Snarky much?

  I can almost hear her huff of indignation, but something opens inside of me. A familiar smell tickles my nose, compelling me to follow it. The scent of sweat and leather grows stronger as I trace its path down the hallway to a closed door. I try the knob and find it secured tight. I grip it harder, and the Huntress gives it a little push.

  The lock snaps, and I easily enter the room.

  In the darkness, I glimpse a shadow drilling its fist into the corner over and over again.

  “Declan,” I whisper. “Mo Cluaiste, please talk to me.”

  When I step closer, he grunts, striking the wall once more. I flick the light switch. The illumination shows me a corner covered in a series of pads and equipment, which I assume is meant for indoor training. Blood stains Declan’s knuckles, and every strike leaves a red stamp on the padded blue surface.

  I reach forward and take his wrist in my hand, pulling him around as gently as I can. The wildness is gone. In its place, Declan gazes at me with a haunted expression that makes me suck in a hiss. A tear escapes my eye, and he rushes forward.

  “No, Guine, don’t cry!” He grabs a tissue and presses it to my cheek to catch the errant droplet. Hooking the tips of my fingers with his, he lightly tugs me over to a bench and sits beside me. Declan reaches out to hug me, but stops before making contact and withdraws.

  I sigh. “Is this because of what happened last night?” He stares down at his knees and doesn’t answer. “I’m sorry for hurting you, Declan.”

  As I get up to go, he lets out a strangled, “Wait.”

  Turning back to him, I find him begging with his eyes for me to understand something. I tilt my head, unable to decipher his message. “You’ll have to tell me what you’re thinking, Dec. I can’t read you like Ashton and Kent. We haven’t known each other long enough yet.”

  He hunches into himself, and I take a seat on the opposite side from him.

  The silence stretches out, and I struggle to keep my temper in check. He’s trying to figure out how best to say whatever’s going on in his mind, so I wait, chanting an inner mantra of ‘be patient’.

  “When we got our marks,” he finally breaks the silence, “I had a harder time of it than the others.” He rubs his eyes and appears to be far away from here in his mind. “The burning was so bad, I thought I was dying.” He takes a deep breath. “Everyone was sure I was going to be one
of the ones who failed that final test. I thought I wasn’t worthy.”

  The more anguished he becomes, the thicker his accent grows. I want to comfort him and push those doubts out of his head, but intuition tells me he needs to finish his story first.

  “It hurt for weeks, Guine. I thought I was going to have to go back to my pa. I thought I was a failure. But when the tattoo didn’t fade after all that time, I was finally allowed to join my team.” I reach out to take his hand, but hold back, not wanting to stop his flow. “I still have nightmares about the pain, and when you revealed your tattoos, it brought it all right back to the front of my mind. The pain, how did you survive it? Sometimes, I get phantom sensations from the ink in my skin, and when Kent held you, I snapped. I didn’t want him to hurt you.” He hangs his head in shame. “I apologize, Mo Chroí.”

  I stand and smack him hard on the shoulder. “Declan! I am not some weak little Fainting Fiona who needs your protection!” With a sigh, I kneel in front of him. “I want your friendship and respect, sweetie, but you need to trust me. I’ve lived under the rules of others for my entire life, and only in the last few days have I been allowed to make decisions for myself. Please don’t take this away from me.” My voice softens. “I don’t know what caused you to think you were unworthy of these gifts, but I can tell you’re wrong.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut and whispers, “My mum abandoned me and my da’ when I was seven. She ran off to Dublin with some vamp she met while giving a tour of the local distillery, and she never came back for me. My da’ was always a bastard to her. He liked to throw punches at the both of us when he was in his cups, but I never thought she’d go off with a vamp. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame her for leaving him, but she didn’t take me with her.” His watery blue eyes lift, and my heart breaks for him. “I wasn’t a good enough son for her, and she left me with him. My older sister had just had a babe of her own, and she couldn’t take me, either. He got so much worse after he realized she wasn’t coming back, and he blamed me for it when he was sober enough to remember I existed.” He hangs his head, and I run my fingers through his soft, black hair.