The Damned (Their Champion Companion Novel Book 3)
Page 2
I hope that doesn’t change. This is a complicated relationship, and it’s not like there is a book on it. Woman and Four Cocks, or How to Control Your Dicks… that kind of thing.
Breaking away, Archel lets me down, pulls free of my body, and turns me into the spray. He helps me wash my hair, his long fingers feeling magical as he rubs and scrubs and gets me ready for the day. He worships me like the princess he calls me.
When we are done, I don’t bother putting on clothes. Instead, I strut out of the bathroom to get my clean ones, which are laid out and ready to ride in. I walk past Evan, who is putting medical supplies in his bag, and Clay, who has a bomb splayed on the table as he works to construct it. Jago is peeling an apple with his knife, his boots propped up on the table.
I hear the bang as Jago’s boots drop, and he leans forward, those fiery eyes burning as they track down my body. Clay grins at me as he stands as if to chase me, while Evan groans.
“Fuck, good thing there is no warm water left, I need a cold shower anyway,” he mutters.
“Pascha, you get more beautiful every day, and your clothes only hide the sensual goddess hidden beneath,” Clay murmurs, his head lowered as if in reverence.
I point at him and meet the others’ eyes. “And that is how you sweet talk a lady, take note,” I announce.
“Brawler, I call you hot all the time, plus I show you with my hands and mouth.” Jago smirks, his usually impassive face filling with lust and arrogance.
“Yeah, well, that’s why I call you Beast.” I wink as I slip into the other room.
Men. Who knew they could be so much fun?
I get dressed quickly, itching to hit the road. I slip into some black jeans with some rips up the front—I need to sew them at some point, since they let in too much sand—and I add my bra that Clay made me. It has material on the side closest to my skin, but the outer layer has metal on it to protect me. Out there in the heat, I need to be as naked as possible to stay cool. Once I add my pascha marks, I will look like the leader I am.
And badass, totally badass.
I grab my old jacket. I need to get another of these too, but there’s not much I can do about the holes now, so I start to strap on my weapons. My crossbow goes over my shoulder, my swords are sheathed at my sides, and two knives are slid into my boots. I shove the remainder of my things in my bag, including my coffee that my shadow got me, which I take everywhere. Once done, I turn to see them all just staring at me.
“Pervs,” I tease. “Ya ready to ride?”
“If you are referring to you riding my cock, then yes.” Archel winks.
“You wish, pal.” I grin. “I’m talking about a true beast—”
“So me?” Jago offers.
“That rumbles—”
“Me?” Clay interjects.
“And is made of metal—my bike,” I finish, and Evan sighs.
“So not me,” he grumbles.
“All of you bastards are dirty. Get ready and let’s go, and if you are good and kill lots of people and get all sweaty and dirty, I’ll ride you later,” I promise, hoisting my bag over my shoulder as I turn and head out of the door. There is a moment of silence, and then I hear them scrambling to follow me as I laugh and march down the stairs and outside into the rising sun. The heat hits me instantly. Fuck, I’m going to be sweating in places no one should ever sweat.
For a moment I just breathe in the quiet air. Everyone is still asleep, so it’s silent for once. No clank of weapons, no fighting, yelling, or fucking. Just silence, the sun, and me. I close my eyes as a smile curves my lips. I don’t think I will ever be as happy as I am in this moment. I have a job, and I have a friend who trusts me to help her protect and save our people. I have four men who love me and want to fight and die by my side. Whatever is to come in my life, whatever I have to face out there on the road, this is the moment I will remember. When my heart is light, my scars are not quite as heavy, and the world is supporting me. In my darkest moments, I will come back to this memory of utter brilliance and peace and remember that no matter what, it gets better. There is such beauty in this world if you are willing to fight for it.
I have been since I first stepped foot—er, wheels on this sand, and that won’t stop now. Worth might have settled down into her role as queen with her men, but I’m just starting out on my own adventure, and there is so much to see.
To do.
“Are you sleeping standing up or pushing out a fart?” Evan calls as he stops next to me. I flutter open my eyes to meet his, his lip ring shining in the light.
“Lovely. You just ruined the moment, Evvie.” I sigh and then grin as I walk past him. “That was me pushing out a fart. I crop dusted you for being a douche.”
“What the fuck is crop—Oh, Pip, that’s nasty!” he calls after me as I giggle.
“You asked for it, douche!” I move along the path and weave through the waking warriors. Some nod at me, others ignore me. Hopefully one day, I can inspire as much fear and loyalty in them as Worth, though I doubt it. That bish is one terrifyingly sexy queen. Ah shit, now I’m thinking about Worth in weird ways again.
Only the guards are at the gate, and they let me through with barely a glance. Our bikes are on the other side, ready to go. Jago and Clay ensured they were safe and topped them up on gas last night. I sling my bag over the back of mine, attaching it and tying it down as I yank out my goggles and push them onto my head.
“No way, Worth would lose,” I hear Archel joke, and I look back to see him jesting and laughing with Clay, who mainly grunts but goes along with it. It makes me smile to see my men getting along. We are finally a family. We fight and don’t always get on, but we all love each other.
“Lose against who?” I ask, turning and leaning back against my bike.
“Ten mountain men,” Archel answers as he pulls up his black hood, obscuring his face.
“No way, she would win. She’s a boss ass bitch,” I state calmly.
“That boss ass bitch is currently heading this way,” Evan interjects, and I follow his gaze to see her strolling to the gate with her men.
Licking my lips, I ignore the guys as I meet her at the gate. She smiles at me warmly, her hair pushed back and plaited to the side. Worth is in her usual leather leggings and a white tank top, showing off the roses and brands and scars on her arms. She has knives along her side and a coiled whip secured to her waist. She looks like the queen she is. Before I even get to make a joke, she pulls me into a tight embrace. I blink, unused to the gesture, but the warmth of friendship flows through me from it, as does pride. I know it’s hard for her to trust other people, to reach out, and yet she does for me. When she pulls back, I can’t help but grin at her.
“Be careful out there. Trust no one but your men and come back to us, General. That’s an order,” she demands, her voice strong. She holds my gaze until I nod.
“Yes, my queen,” I reply and grin wider, enjoying her concern. This will always be home to me, but she was right—I still want to be out on the sand. I hear someone head my way and glance back to see Evan joining me.
She follows my gaze. “Take care of her for me, Doc. I’ll try not to hurt myself before you get back.”
I laugh, and even Evan grins before he hugs her. I was once jealous of how close they are, but not now. I’m happy he made more friends, and she needs someone like Evan in her life, not just to put her back together after kicking ass but as a non-fighter. A healer. It connects our family in more ways than one. “I’ll bring back extra supplies just for you,” he teases her, and with a wink at me, he heads back over to the others, who are watching us, leaving me with Worth and her men, who are speaking between themselves as they stand behind her.
I meet her eyes. She has this magnetism that holds a person captive, unable to look away. Being in her presence is enough to make you feel inspired, stronger, and confident. It’s just who she is and the energy she emits.
“I have a present for you,” she tells me. “It’s a to
ken for my general, wear it with pride.”
A present? I almost jump up and down, but I manage to act cool…ish. She turns to her man, Maxen, and grabs something black from him before handing it to me. I frown as I shake it out and hold it up, and then my breath hitches and my eyes widen as I stare at it. It’s a leather jacket in perfect condition, but it’s the symbol on the back that leaves me speechless.
It’s stitched boldly, jaggedly, under a skull with a bolt coming from its mouth and roses for eyes. She even found us a name—The Damned. I look up at her, unsure what to say as I clutch it to my chest. No one has ever really given me a gift before, especially one so thoughtful. She did it just because, for no reason, and I will treasure it. Fuck, I may even sleep in it. Maybe screw in it—
“When you get back, we will have one for each of your men,” she informs me, interrupting my inner thoughts, which is probably for the best.
I know I need to thank her, to say something, but for the first time in my life, I’m speechless. “Worth,” I whisper, looking down at the jacket again before meeting her eyes. I swallow, trying not to make a joke, but I can’t help it, it slips free. “This is so much better than pied piper.”
She laughs, and that darkness that lingers in her eyes lightens for a moment. I stand taller at that, at being able to make her laugh. “You know it. You damn those souls who betray us. Now get going, General, it’s time to turn the sands red.”
I grab the jacket and put my arms through the sleeves before tugging it into place. It fits perfectly, and I feel stronger, like I am wearing armour, the symbol of our people. She is with me, they all are. I will never be alone again.
“Thank you, Worth. I will wear it with honour,” I squeeze out before turning to leave so she can’t see the tears forming in my eyes at her thoughtfulness.
I yank down my goggles and start to walk away before her voice stops me. “Piper?” I spin to look back at her with a smile, ignoring the feelings welling inside me.
“Yes, hot stuff?” I retort, the sand stretching between us.
“Fight like the champion you are,” she demands.
She has said it to me before, but it almost staggers me that she believes in me so much, that she thinks I am on par with her skills. She is wrong of course. I could never beat her, I’m not the champion. This wasteland only has room for one, and it’s her, but I’m happy to be her right-hand woman, her hunter…her damned.
Nodding, I turn away and climb onto my bike, ignoring the looks my men throw my way as I start the engine. I have a job to do, we all do. A job for our queen, our people, and our land. As the pascha, they look to me for guidance, and in every one of those eyes, I see honesty, love, and respect. They would follow me to hell and back, and I know before this journey is through, that is exactly where we will go.
“Let’s go, Damned… How badass does that sound?” I laugh, and with a lowering of my head, I skid through the gravel and roar off into the sands, my men following and my queen watching after me. I glance back to see her waving goodbye, but only for now, not forever. I know I will see her again, and when I do, I will have earned this title and the honour she has bestowed upon me through blood and death.
I will become The Damned.
The sun is shining down on us, the heat almost unbearable. Sand fills my mouth, nose, and every crevice on my body, yet I’m grinning like an idiot. My heart is filled with excitement, and adrenaline is pumping through my veins. I’m ready to be back out here, to see what the sands have to offer, to see everything.
My men ride with me. We know the path we are taking, and when we stop for the night, we will orientate ourselves. I chose a route through feral territory to add some excitement.
Because why not?
We have been riding for hours. We stopped briefly for the toilet and food, and then we carried on. It should take us just two days at this rate to reach the hospital. The added time is mostly due to the main bridge across a sandy chasm apparently being ruined, so we have to go around it, which adds hours onto our trip. Oh well. More time on the road, more time with my men.
We need it after the war. Although we got to spend time together at The Ring, it wasn’t the same. Jago likes his space. He was like, well, a caged animal there. Pun intended. Even Archel was getting restless, and Clay couldn’t blow anything up. Evan was happy, but he wants to go wherever I do.
We drive along what used to be a main road in a small town by the looks of things. Half the shops are blown up and falling down. Others are covered in layers of dirt, sand, and dust that will never be removed. At the end of the holey, cobbled street, though, lies a pharmacy. I whistle to my men and pull to a stop inside the four bays outside, the old white lines faded and cracked. The pavement before the store is cracked and dotted with holes and dirt, and paper and old food cans are littered around. Graffiti covers the boarded-up window and the front door is missing, but you never know. We might get lucky, and with more mouths to feed and bodies to look after, we need as many supplies as we can get. Pulling up my goggles, I look at my men. “Let’s check it out.” I swing my leg over, groaning when my thighs and back ache. I do some quick lunges and star jumps to limber up and get the blood flowing, ignoring their incredulous looks, and then I pull my crossbow.
“Fine, me first,” Jago rumbles and stands, machete in hand as he storms towards the door. I follow after him.
“I’ll go round back and check for other entrances,” Archel calls. “Doc, you’re with me. Clay, watch the bikes.”
“Good plan, we know you like a good backdoor,” I tease, making him stumble as laughter bursts from him before Jago throws us all a glare.
“Shh, Brawler. Haven’t I taught you anything?” he hisses.
“It was him,” I protest, and he rolls his eyes before leaning down and gripping my chin, even as he smiles and those fiery eyes heat.
“It’s always you, Brawler,” he murmurs before kissing me soundly and pulling away, leaving me panting and hoping for another kind of backdoor fun. He, however, has different plans and saunters into the building, plunging himself into the darkness.
I follow after him, lips closed and silent, pointing my crossbow at the floor so I don’t accidently shoot Jago. He flicks on his torch, and I grab a can from the floor, gently roll it down the aisles, and wait. When no snarls or shouts reach us, I relax a little. I don’t think anyone is here. The once tiled white floor is covered in sand and blood splatters, our boot prints leaving impressions as we step farther in.
It’s a small store, only two aisles, with broken, empty shelves in the middle leaning against each other. There are discarded shampoo bottles and boxes littering the floor. Jago points left and goes right. Raising my bow, I head down the left aisle, careful to step over anything that makes too much noise. I keep my footsteps light and my finger ready on the trigger. I run my eyes over the shelves as I go. They are mostly empty, but I spot a pack of condoms on one and grab it, shoving it into my bag. Even at the end of the world, you can never be too careful. Farther down, I grab some deodorant, soap, and tampons, which I nearly weep over. It’s the one thing I miss from Paradise—tampons. Who knew?
I reach the end of the aisle, and it opens up into a pharmacy counter. It has a door to the right which is shut. Jago emerges a moment later and nods at me. For a moment, a mischievous smirk covers his lips as he silently shows me a box. My eyes widen and my mouth drops open as I try to contain my laughter.
A cock ring.
He picked up a cock ring.
With a wink, he pockets it and acts like nothing has happened, like we didn’t just raid a pharmacy and the only thing he collected was a fucking vibrating purple cock ring. I drag my gaze back to the counter. A steel shutter separates it from the rest of the store, and it has a few bullet holes in it, but it seems locked. Jago heads towards it, so I press my back to his, keeping watch. There’s a clank as he tries to pull it up, but it remains firmly in place.
“Bolted. We need a way around,” he murmurs.r />
Just then, the door rips open, and both of us raise our weapons, ready to fire, when Archel’s grinning face pops around. “Hurry up, would you? Jeez, what took you so long?” he teases.
Snorting, I step past Jago. “Just tampons and cock rings,” I remark.
He nods with an understanding expression. “Sure, sure. I found the door to the pharmacy section, looks untouched. People have tried to get through, but it’s locked tight. Evan thinks he can get in.” I follow him into the small, cramped back corridor with only two doors. One leads to the employee area and the backdoor loading dock, which is empty. The next is locked tight and just to the left of where the pharmacy is. I see the bullet holes and hack marks he was talking about. People have tried to get in, but it seems it was to no avail. Evan is on his knees, fiddling with the doorknob, as I rest my crossbow on my shoulder.
He mutters to himself, and just as I am about to ask what he said, he exclaims and sits back, twists the knob, and swings the door open. “Holy fuck, when did you learn that?”
He grins over at me. “I’m not completely useless to have around, Pip. I have my…better qualities,” he comments, running his gaze over me suggestively.
“You are totally getting a blow job for that,” I tell him, and his eyes widen, making me laugh. “Not now, Evvie, later. First, let’s check the drugs.”
“Drugs, got it,” he mutters, but seems stuck on the blow job offer as he gets to his feet. Archel passes him, chuckling, and slaps his shoulder as he goes.
“Thanks, man. I won’t be sucking your dick to show you my gratitude though.”
“Me either,” Jago rumbles.
What a touching moment.
After clearing out the pharmacy, which we manage to get an impressive haul from, we strap it on our bikes, sharing the loads so we won’t lose it all if anything happens to one of our rides. With the afternoon sun high in the sky, we race across the sand, trying to cover as much ground as we can before sunset.