“If you two kill each other there will be no one available to heal you,” he says with humor in his tone. “Ready!” I peer at Luke through my lashes, daring him. “Okay.”
Before Jord finishes the word, I charge toward Luke, jumping to kick him in the face. He ducks, dodging it and roughly shoves me once I’m over him. I tumble in landing, and quickly rise back on my feet.
He doesn’t approach me.
I charge toward him again. I slide under him, clipping his legs so he falls forward. He hits the ground, face-planting in the wood. I’m up, rushing across the floor. I kick him hard enough he flips over, then I straddle him. Punches lightning fast, I throw jabs in his face and neck.
He coughs and gags, trying to block my fast blows. I hit him harder when he doesn’t stop me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see his legs rise beside me. They wrap around the front of my neck. I’m pulled back, and he slams me hard onto the floor. He lifts me back up, using his lower body, and slams me even harder twice more.
My head’s spinning.
I’m limited with options to get out of his hold.
I punch him as hard as I can on his inner thighs until he lets me go.
I move from him, needing to make sure I have my balance and can focus after having my head slammed into the ground. I float for a second. Luke lets me have this moment. I take another step back, rubbing the back of my head. It’s dry, thankfully.
“You ready, Ky?” he asks.
He finally stops swaying, and the room stills. I nod, and he charges toward me. I spin out of the way and ram my foot into his back on my turn around. I jump, giving him another kick in the back. He hits the floor again.
He’s back up before I know it.
When fighting Luke, I’m good if I can avoid his punches. He packs a massive punch that can knock me unconscious.
He charges.
I try to bring my fist to his face, but he ducks and punches my stomach twice. I buckle over, and he rams his fist into my cheek, drawing back twice.
I’m dazed, stumbling away from him. He stalks me like a lion hunting a gazelle. Like a hungry claw, his fist draws back again, ready for attack. I grab it before it connects and bring my elbow down on his arm, hoping it breaks. Shit. It doesn’t. I release his fist, using my now free hand to swing a punch at his face.
Effective.
I hit his jaw, busting my knuckles.
Enraged, I use the pain and take two steps back and kick his chest. He stumbles back, and as I shake out my hand I just busted, I bring my right to punch him anywhere my attacks will land.
Going in for my third punch, he grabs my hand, and his other takes my neck. He swipes my feet from under me, lifts me and slams me down on the floor harder than he needs to. “Ahh,” I groan from the pain shooting through my back.
He yells over my agony, “Call it, Ky.”
I analyze my predicament. “Not happening,” I tell him, lifting my leg to hook around his neck. Something he wasn’t expecting.
Choking him with my thighs, I flip him, and his lower body smashes against the edge of the stage. He grunts in agony from the impact. I lock my legs around his neck, trying to strangle him. His neck hardens under my legs as he clinches, fighting for his life. He knows I have him. I grab his arm that is punching my legs, and I hit his face. This way I have his body half on the stage and half off makes it difficult for him to flip back and get out of my hold.
He twists my arm, and I punch his shoulder to stop him. He grunts loudly, and I bend it, never letting up on my hold or my jabs.
Luke grabs my knee in front of him. The pressure around my kneecap builds. “Call it, Ky!” he tells me, squeezing the joint harder, trying to pop off its cap.
“AAAHHH!” I scream, punching him. “Give, Luke,” I yell, pained and aggravated.
He slams the arm he’s twisting into my abdomen. My legs loosen from the pain, and he pops my knee. I ram my foot into his shoulder, and he falls off the stage. I buckle over in pain—lying on my side—one arm around my stomach, the other around my knee.
He grabs me, turning me onto my back, and punches me in the face. By my shirt, he tugs me to stand. Blood’s pouring into my mouth from my busted lips. His arm comes back, and I grab it before he hits me again.
I jump, ignoring the pain in my knee, and use him as my leverage to help wrap my legs around his neck. One movement. I yank back and slam us backward on the floor. It stings and causes a jolt of pain to shoot down to my toes.
I rest on my back, not intending to knock myself out from my maneuver. Luke flips me on my stomach and sits on my back. He bends my legs back with his arm wrapped around my neck. “Call it, Ky. I got you.”
He does have me choked, and I can’t get my arms around him or use my legs because they’re bent awkwardly behind me. I claw at his arms around my neck, but he tightens his grip.
Seits comes to the stage. With Luke’s chokehold, she fades in and out as the darkness takes over the edges of my sight. “Don’t give up, Kylie,” she tells me with her elbow slowly driving backward.
Yes!
With as much might as I can muster, I ram my elbow into Luke’s side. A couple of his ribs crack under the impact.
He lets go.
I fall to the floor on my arms, gasping for air. I take the two seconds he’s down to catch my breath.
I need to be up before him.
Still gasping for air, I wipe my mouth after I stand. Blood covers my hand, and I take my bottom lip into my mouth tasting it. I suck it to stop the heavy bleeding and spit it out across the stage.
Luke’s still on the floor, holding his cracked ribs.
My knee hurts, and my hand’s busted. I limp to him, ignoring all my issues. I kick his face, angry he won’t give.
“Give, Luke,” I yell, kicking him again in his cracked ribs.
“Agh!” he moans in agony. “I’m going to kill you, Ky,” he says without menace.
“Shut up and give!” I go in for another kick. He grabs my ankle, yanking me so hard he knocks me off my feet. I hit the floor.
He’s over me as my head spins. “I told you to give,” he says before his fist smashes into my face and darkness takes over my vision.
“Ky? Get up, Ky. So you can heal me,” Luke says, shaking me.
Grumbling, I swallow the metallic taste in my mouth. “I hate you,” I say, opening my eyes and touching my lips. They’re dry, and all my pain has subsided. I sit up, still on the stage. Luke’s kneeling in front of me with a black eye and swollen lip. “I want to kill you.”
“I beat you to it. Don’t be a sore loser.” I grab his hand and take care of him as he has already done me. “Thanks.” He stands and pulls me with him.
I push him away. I am a sore loser. I absolutely hate losing.
Jord claps. “Very good, the both of you. She almost had you, Luke.” His smile is wide, too pleased with our fight.
“A little,” Luke responds, jumping from the stage.
I jump down. “A little? I had you, Luke, a lot, you need to admit it.”
“You two give a better fight than those who are not siblings,” Jord says. “You did well, Kylie,” Seits compliments.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I respond. “Admit it, Luke.” I push Luke’s shoulder.
He shakes his head. “If you had me, Ky, it would be you waking me up, not the other way around.”
I shove him as we sit. “You’re a sore winner.”
“Anyone here who didn’t find that entertaining?” Jord asks, smiling. The only one in the hall boiling over with joy. “Anyway, moving on.”
Everyone gets a turn, and it takes all day, fights running into the night.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The leaders stay behind when the others are dismissed for the night, by Jord’s request of course. “As you know,” he starts, vest slapping the table as he removes his protective wear, relaxing, “Separation begins tomorrow. The newcomers will arrive, ignorant about what you know.” We’v
e crowded around him, awaiting the big reveal. I’ve been hoping he’d finally tell everyone what we’ve been called out here early for. “They will remain oblivious until the day after tomorrow.” So much for that. “Those of you who know will tell nothing, not even to the ones you work next to or share a home with. Those who are curious to find out will remain curious until we talk. You will find out when the rest do. As a reminder, the newcomers to Separation will not have twins that can heal. Those individuals, you will take it easy on. Train hard, yes—but unlike our extensive training that’s limited to the Creations, feel free to use the simulators.” He rubs his bald head. “This is why the Creations were brought here first. We need them to be ready and go through the training that prepares them for the unexpected. Remember, we do not honor failure, but we will understand many of those in Separation will be afraid. They will be scared. You will need to comfort since a few of you will be new captains. Understand their fear and help them overcome it. However, that is not acceptable for the Creations.”
“Sir,” Collins interrupts. “The Creations in Separation that will be coming tomorrow, we treat them kindly?”
“Captain, there will be no Creations in tomorrow’s draft. The Creations who will be coming in this fourth year are already here. Those joining tomorrow are the Normals who are taking part in Separation,” he answers.
“Like the ones who volunteered to come, Sir Jord,” Cory states.
“Exactly. There will also be some who did not volunteer. New law.”
“General, how are we supposed to treat them?” I ask.
“As you would someone who is afraid. Someone who knows fear,” he answers.
“Okay, sir,” Luke begins. “Just as a run-through to make sure we all follow.” Jord nods for him to continue. “The teenagers who are a part of Separation will pour in tomorrow. This year there will be some in Separation who were forced to come, and there will only be Normals in this draft.” Jord nods. “Okay. Got it.”
“Anyone has any questions?” Jord asks.
“Yes, sir,” Cory’s sister states, “How do we comfort fear?”
Jord thinks for a moment. I, too, think of a way I would comfort someone’s fear. Thinking back on my parents and what my mother did for me when I was scared. But I don’t remember being scared while she was around, other than fretting over a bad dream. Then there was my uncle, and Luke helped during that time by just being there, a brother. And more recently, the day all those things came back, and fear shook my body. And I was put at ease by…
My gaze lifts to Marc leaning against the wall behind Jord. He put me at ease. He pacified my tremors and even took away my nightmares. There’s an unfamiliar sentiment in his gaze, and though I know it’s wrong to experience or want to experience the caress of another, I want to explore it with Marc.
“You will need to show your understanding. Express you care even though you don’t. You don’t have to hug them, but a gentle pat on their back will do fine. Taking out some time to talk to them about their fears and issues will also help.” Jord scratches his head. “Don’t be too gentle and too understanding—we don’t want them soft. But you may need to soften up when speaking with them. And no shooting them.” His gaze slices me in two, but I don’t regret my actions. My tactics worked. He nods, and we follow with a nod. “Okay,” he continues. “Lukahn and Kylie are top. Marcain and Collins are next.”
Collins slams her hand on the table. “What?” she angrily interrupts. “Why?” she shouts.
He flicks a quick gaze at her through narrowed eyes. “I beg your pardon?”
“Why is she ahead of me? First, she’s picked over me for the Chicago mission. Now this!”
I speak up, “Collins, we both knew I’d rank over you. Your anger is misplaced.”
She points, accusing, “The only reason you got the spot is because of Cory!”
“Stop!” Jord commands, cutting me off. “Collins, Kylie has proven herself on multiple occasions, and I doubt Cory has anything to do with it. He has no say in our decisions.” Turning his attention to me, Jord asks, “Do you mind proving yourself to Collins? Does anyone else here doubt Kylie?”
I fold my hands, slipping my fingers between each other before cracking my knuckles. Standing, I say, “I can prove myself to Collins.” I lower my brows, meeting Collins’s matching glare. “How would you like for me to prove this to you?” She called me out in front of everyone and involved Cory for no reason. “Drag you across the floor, break your jaw, crack your spine…? Which one is it?” She’s sitting right next to me, and if I were as low as she is, I would punch her without her expecting it.
Luke laughs. “Do you really want to do that to yourself, Collins? Get embarrassed for no reason by challenging my sister?” He stands. “Tell you what. Fight my sister, and if you lose,” he looks up at the ceiling, pausing, “and we know you will. I’ll fight you. Just to highlight your stupidity.” Smiling and nodding, he adds, “Call it a spanking.”
“If I lose a fight with your sister, you want to fight me?” she asks, appalled.
“Yep,” Luke answers her.
Jord laughs. “Or the four of you can make it a twin-on-twin fight. Collins and Cecilia against you and Kylie. But before you do, let me finish. When the others come in, they will be greeted by Cory and Ace as you were. Stephanie and Zoe will show them to their homes and give them instructions and help them to get acclimated. They will need to be shown around, and that is all tomorrow will be concerned with. Refrain from shooting and beating the life out of each other until they are comfortable. They will meet you before we explain what is going on the day after tomorrow. Respond!”
“We understand,” we respond peacefully. He nods and walks away. “Enjoy your squabble.”
“Okay, Collins, let’s go,” Luke says, and I take his side.
“Will tomorrow be an off day for us?” Fein asks Cory. The three of us stroll to the rec hall of our teams, Cory hanging on to the conversation though he lives in the opposite direction.
“For you all, not me,” he answers. “Mostly meet and greets, but you can linger. Luke, Ky, Collins, and Marc maybe not.”
I’ve been avoiding making eye contact with him. His stare is constantly burning when it lands on me, a look of concern and aspiration in the depths of his eyes. “What will we have to do?” I ask. We stride along, Fein in the middle of us, which I’m grateful for.
“Whatever they request.” He knows. He’s been doing this for quite some time, but he doesn’t want to tell us.
I walk ahead of the two, making it to the opened door of the rec hall for the non-leaders. The majority of my group is gone, the only stragglers are Joe, Anthony, and Robert. Cory and I sit on a table near them, and Fein finds some from her group. “Hey, guys. What are you all up to tonight?”
“Preparing for tomorrow. We want to set a good impression by being too tired to stand up straight.”
I frown.
Anthony laughs. “Kidding. We’ll be headed in shortly.”
“Do you feel good? Feel better about yourselves than you did when you first arrived?”
“We do,” Anthony answers. He lifts his arm, flexing his muscles. “I got guns.”
We laugh.
“What could I have done differently as your leader?” I ask, knowing their initial failing was my fault.
“I don’t know,” Robert says, before greeting Cory. The others follow. Cory responds to them with a nod.
“If you could change something, what would you do?” Joe asks.
I shrug once. “Never thought about leading, I’ve been a two-man army for my entire life, but I knew it would come. I trained you like my brother trained me: hard and no sympathy for weakness or consideration for your pain. I’d find my own way that works for all of us. Everyone doesn’t learn the same, and I should’ve considered that. However, I can’t accept weakness from you all. I let you all off easy while I should’ve stayed hard on you without being mean to you.”
There’s an un
comfortable silence that takes over the conversation. Then Robert says, “I guess if we were all trained by Luke Alexander, we’d come out like you too. I’ve never seen someone take three shots to the back and still try to make their way through a course. You and your brother have made names for yourselves, and we should’ve known what to expect as members of your team. Plus, we were weak and needed to try harder, to improve ourselves, and now we are better.” He flexes his muscle again and points to his bicep as his brows dance. “Guns, remember.”
I nod. “We’ll be sticking together through Separation and maybe beyond that. The team will grow larger when the Normals come in. You’ll need to hold your ground while I prep and train them, but I will remain tough on all of you if you start slacking off. Got it?” I say kindly.
“We got it, Ky,” Joe replies without rancor.
I stand. “Great.” Cory follows behind me as I leave. “My brother doesn’t like for you to follow me around, Cory,” I tell him once we’ve left the rec hall.
“Good thing I don’t care about your brother.”
“Don’t push this.” I stop. “This is nothing.”
“So you’ve told me,” he says, crossing his arms and hitching a brow.
I sigh, and turn away from him. He may be sorry, but he’s still not past this. “I’ll talk to you later,” I call over my shoulder, heading home.
Luke’s sitting in the den with Collins—again—an inch or two too close. I lean my shoulder against the doorframe, saying, “You can deface my character, try to downplay me in front of everyone, and still try to creep on my brother?” She’s changed from her blood-stained shirt, and Cecilia has healed her bruises. She sits before me, evidence of her “spanking” disappeared. That will be the last time she speaks badly about me.
“I’m sorry, Kylie,” she says, gaze casted on the floor, hands tucked under her armpits. “I just really wanted that spot.”
“You were never in line for that spot,” Luke tells her. “Get over it already. It’s getting annoying.”
The Separation Trilogy Box Set: Books 1 -3 Page 24
