Solace

by Raven Dark

  A sick sort of pleasure took me as I scooped Setora up in my arms and headed for the stairs after Sheriff.

  Damien had escaped, but someone was going to die tonight.

  “Strength of family isn’t in the blood. Blood don’t mean shit under the patch. The only real family are the ones who come out of the worst of the darkness and still fight at your side. Those who still call you Brother.”

  -Galen, Cama Don of The Blood Devils MC,

  250 BV, the Old World

  Chapter 6

  No Mercy

  If ever I’d needed the protection of my garden—my Fortress—I needed it now. Shaky as I was, were Pretty Boy not carrying me, I was sure my legs would have folded under me.

  Emotions, too many to process, roiled through me like a storm.

  Damien. Coming face to face with Damien again after all this time—if things had been different, that fact alone would have torn me apart and rendered all else inconsequential. His escaping and what he’d said—both to Sheriff and to me—would have shredded my sanity until I couldn’t form a coherent thought.

  As it was, awareness of him and of all that had happened with him, swirled, half-there beyond a mind-numbing haze.

  The image of Crash lying on that rooftop with Damien’s knife sticking out of his chest replayed itself through my mind like one of my nightmares. Except this wasn’t a nightmare. It was real.

  “You’re shaking, Princess.” Pretty Boy’s voice anchored me firmly to the here and now, his warmth further grounding me.

  He carried me down the darkly lit stairwell, Hawk following close behind. Slit-thin windows in the stairwell offered only slivers of dim, early daylight to illuminate our way.

  Sheriff and Reaper were at the bottom of the stairs, stepping over the bodies of two J’nai lying there. I had a ridiculous notion those men were going to suddenly reanimate, leap up, and run Sheriff through with the swords lying near them.

  “It’s all right, Princess. They’re dead. The castle is safe now. Hawk,” Pretty Boy added in a lower voice as he stepped over them, “she’s shaking like a leaf.”

  I didn’t hear what Hawk said, but I picked up on the concern in his otherwise stoic tone. I’d have given anything to possess his calm right then.

  Amid a Great Hall of crumbling stone, cracked walls, and cobweb-draped chandeliers, I scarcely registered the sight of Matais, hogtied on the floor in a corner of the room. That and men’s voices as everyone moved about, blocking off every exit.

  All except the doorway to the stairs we’d just come through. The door was busted in; with nothing big enough to block it, Reaper took up position, keeping an eye out for anyone who might come down the stairs from the roof.

  Hazy morning light shone through rents in the roof where parts of it had caved in with wear and age. Torches some of the men must have lit flickered on the stone walls, offering plenty of firelight.

  As soon as I saw Crash, the world fell away.

  The Dark Legion’s newest patched-in member laid across a table in the middle of the room, with Doc bending over him. Pretty Boy set me on a chair near the table where I was able to see Crash.

  Doc had stripped off Crash’s cut, and Steel now wiped blood from Crash’s chin and mouth. Blood he must have been coughing up.

  I tried to get up and go to him, but Pretty Boy’s hand on my shoulder kept me in the seat.

  “No, stay there, Princess.”

  Sinister was suddenly kneeling in front of me. His sky-blue eyes were surprisingly gentle as he took my head in his hands, looking me over.

  “She’s in shock. We need blankets, but they won’t have any here.” He looked around until he found T-Man, checking on Diamond and Emmy nearby. “T-Man, see if you can’t find some curtains, tablecloths, something to wrap Setora in and keep her warm. And I need someone to rub her feet and hands. And someone get these damn cuffs off us.”

  Savage came around with keys he’d taken off of one of the guards and started removing everyone’s cuffs. Men moved several bodies of the J’nai they’d used to block a door, and T-Man disappeared into the corridor. Diamond and Emmy, both looking pale and shaken, came over, one rubbing my hands between hers, the other taking off my shoes and doing the same with my feet.

  “We should be giving her some wine for the shock, but even if this place had any, we can’t trust that it would still be good.”

  “Are you a doctor?” I asked Sinister through chattering teeth.

  “No, that would be Cutter. But I used to be a field medic in the Cold River Wars.” He focused on my jaw and cheek. It still throbbed where Damien had slapped me. “That’s a nice bruise you got there, but it’s changing colors pretty fast. It’s already gone past purple.”

  I could hear the curiosity, the unspoken question in his voice.

  When I didn’t answer him, he went on. “For anyone else, it would take days to disappear, but for you, it might be a day, or even hours.”

  The reminder of my Violet healing abilities made me uncomfortable, especially when I didn’t really know him well. I said nothing.

  “How is he, Doc?” Sheriff’s voice snagged my focus. He stood beside Doc, looking over Crash.

  T-Man appeared with a pile of old curtains from somewhere. He handed them to Diamond, and she wrapped one around me, then another around Emmy, using the last one for herself.

  Doc gave Sheriff a somber look and shook his head in that meaningful way everyone seems to understand, even when they’ve never dealt with a doctor.

  “There’s nothing more we can do for him. I can’t remove the knife or he’ll bleed out. If I had strong enough drugs with me, I’d give him something for the pain, but…” He trailed off helplessly.

  My stomach dropped to the floor, understanding the implications.

  “Crash.” My voice broke, and I tried to get up again, but Pretty Boy held me back.

  “Shh. I got you. You can’t stand up just yet, Princess.” He wrapped me in his arms.

  Over at the table, Steel gave Doc a furious look. “Doc, there has to be something we can do. Can’t we—”

  “Steel,” Doc said softly. “There’s nothing we can do except make him comfortable now.”

  Emmy cried softly, and Diamond and I held her tight. Steel cursed, stalked across the room and put his fist through the stone wall. The aging stone crumbled under his assault.

  Crash’s chest heaved as he took a raspy breath.

  My heart migrated into my throat. “Pretty Boy, let me go to him.”

  I’d stopped shaking so much, and people’s voices no longer seemed to be filtering through a bubble that surrounded me. Pretty Boy muttered something about stubbornness, and he and Hawk led me over to Crash’s side, Hawk keeping the make-shift shawl around me.

  Opposite me, Sheriff came to stand beside Crash’s head. He set his hand on the young man’s shoulder. Crash’s eyes opened slowly, hazy with pain.

  His eyes went straight to me and he clasped my hand. “Setora. I tried to get him. That’s…that’s why… I... When I saw that carriage flying up to the roof, I jumped on…on it.” He swallowed, his chest rattling. “That man is one…twisted fuck. I wish I’d killed him for you.”

  Unable to find appropriate words, I squeezed his hand and blinked back tears. Disbelief at what was happening made my brain feel numb.

  Crash turned his head slowly to Sheriff. “General—”

  “No, man, don’t talk. Just rest—”

  “Sheriff…General, please.”

  Sheriff closed his eyes and nodded.

  “Thank you. Thank…you for giving me a chance to… prove myself. To you. To this club. I should have told…told you this before. You’re like a father to me…” He coughed. “I had to tell you that…before…”

  “Oh, boy, shut the fuck up.” Sheriff’s voice sounded off key. “If I was your father, I’d have whipped you bloody for getting on that damn carriage.”

  Crash gave a broken sound, a cross between a laugh and a cough.


  “Tell Bear, will you? Tell Bear and Crank, I did it. I got my patch.”

  Sheriff clasped his arm. “I will. I’ll tell them all.”

  Crash turned his gaze back to me. His cold grip on my hand tightened until it almost hurt. “Take care of Cherry, Setora. Tell her I lo…I love her.”

  He gave a final, terrible shudder, and his eyes closed.

  His hand dropped out of mine.

  “Crash, no.” A sob broke out of me, and I covered my face. “Doc, he can’t just…you can’t just let him…”

  Next thing I knew, Hawk had me in his arms, burying my face in his chest. Pretty Boy pressed against my back, hugging us both so that I was crushed between him and Hawk.

  “Hawk, he can’t be gone.” I pushed at his chest and sobbed into him. “No, Maker, no. He can’t be gone!”

  Hawk gripped me tight and stroked my hair, crooning into my ear. Pretty Boy’s arms tightened around me. Behind us, I heard Sheriff curse. Diamond and Emmy both sobbed. Someone behind me kicked a chair violently.

  “Hey, T-Man, you okay?” Steel’s voice, before I heard someone’s footsteps—T-man’s probably—stomp out.

  I heard Doc call Hawk over, saying something about getting Crash cleaned up before they took him home.

  Home. Maker’s mercy, Cherry.

  I felt Hawk squeeze my shoulders before his arms dropped from me. Pretty Boy murmured something and enveloped me in his warmth.

  There was a loud thud, and I looked up in time to see Steel pulling his fist out of another hole in the wall. His knuckles were smeared with blood.

  Doc bent over Crash, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. “Damn it, kid.” His voice was oddly tender.

  My heart quietly shattered.

  “Where the hell is Matais?” Steel growled, his eyes on Crash and full of rage. “If you need someone to kill him, General, I’ll do it.”

  “Not a chance.” Sheriff picked up Damien’s sword from where he’d left it leaning against the leg of the table. “He’s mine.”

  He stalked toward Matais, still hogtied in a corner under Savage’s silent watch, but he didn’t get three paces before Doc stopped him.

  “Let me take care of your arm, General.” He flicked his gaze at the bolt in Sheriff’s bloodied arm. Just looking at it turned my stomach.

  “No, I’m fine. It’ll wait until after I question that little fuck.” Sheriff twisted out of his grip.

  “You’ve lost too much blood. You want to pass out like a little girl while you’re taking care of business, General?” Doc’s voice was quiet.

  Sheriff growled but dropped his shoulders. He grumbled as Doc led him over to a chair at the table.

  “You can question Matais while I take care of this, Sheriff.” Doc reached into the inside pockets of his cut and pulled out what looked like two leather bundles tied with cord. He set them on the table and rolled them out while Sheriff had his head turned, talking with Hawk. The rolls turned out to be miniature medical kits; one lined with a metal syringe and what looked like some kind of cartridges, the other with tools—a scalpel, scissors, gauze pads, and medical thread. Doc tried to load the syringe with a cartridge but dropped the cartridge and cursed.

  “Doc.” Sinister came over and clasped his shoulder. “Let me take care of him.”

  Doc shot him an affronted look and shook his head. He tried loading the syringe again, missing twice because of his shaking hands.

  “Doc. Let me do it. You just lost a patient. Trust me.”

  Doc put his head back. I’d never seen his face so filled with pain.

  He sighed and handed Sinister the syringe. When he turned away, Diamond came over and took his face in her hands, pulling his head down until it rested against hers. Doc’s chest heaved. She murmured something, and he let her push him into a chair. He sat with his head in his hands, Diamond rubbing his back and crooning into his ear.

  My heart broke all over again.

  Like I was in a dream, I looked over to see Savage and Beast picking Matais up by the ropes that bound him, then watched as they carried him over to Sheriff.

  At first, I wondered why he wasn’t saying anything, only twitching, trying uselessly to get free. When Savage and Beast dumped him on the ground at Sheriff’s feet, I got a better look at him. My eyes widened.

  There was a cloth in Matais’ mouth, gagging him, but what struck me the most was that they’d stripped him naked. The rope holding him wasn’t a rope at all, but a whip, the same one I’d seen hanging from Sinister’s waist, with a wicked spike on the end. I heard Pretty Boy laugh.

  “Your fuckwad, General.” For some reason, as soon as Savage had Matais untied and on his feet, Sinister slapped the lord smartly on his bare ass.

  While Beast quickly pushed him into a chair across from Sheriff and then retied his hands behind his back, Sinister squatted at Sheriff’s side and examined the General’s arm.

  As soon as Beast was done tying up their captive lord, he and Savage stood behind Matias, pinning him in the chair, holding one shoulder each. Savage yanked the gag out of the lord’s mouth. Matais immediately started thrashing and screaming at all of them.

  “Do you know who I am? I’m the new Lord of Delta! You harm one hair on my head, and I’ll have the whole of Zone Delta ready to hunt you pirates down and—”

  “Shut up. We don’t give a shit,” Pretty Boy snapped.

  “Don’t waste your breath,” Sinister added. He grabbed the needle and cartridge Doc had been using, about to load the syringe.

  “Don’t bother numbing it, just sew it up, man,” Sheriff said.

  Sinister’s eyes widened. “You’re sure?”

  Sheriff gave a nod.

  Sinister put the syringe and cartridge back in Doc’s kit.

  Eyes on Matais, Sheriff put the sword in his hand between his legs, point on the floor, palms on the hilt. He didn’t react to Sinister’s careful examination of the steel bolt in his arm.

  “Now, you’re going to answer a few questions for us, Matais, before you die.”

  “You can’t kill me, General.” Matais’ eyes were wild. “If you do, you and all your MC scum will be dead before sunup.”

  “Is that so?”

  “My magistrate will have all of you hung in the square by your entrails.”

  Savage smacked him hard across the side of the head, making me wince. Matais twisted in his chair and glared at him.

  “Release me, you dumb twit. You can’t talk, you can’t hear, what the hell good are you?”

  “You want me to have Savage pull your arms off?” Sinister spoke in a frighteningly cool voice without looking away from his task.

  Matais went still, the color leaving his face.

  “You’ll answer every question Sheriff asks you, or I’ll have Savage and Beast pull your arms off and beat you with them.” He gripped the bolt in Sheriff’s arm. “Take a deep breath, General. This is going to hurt like a mother fucker.”

  “What did Damien Vale promise you, Matais?” Sheriff growled. He didn’t seem to notice what Sinister had said. “You’ve already stolen enough of our jewels…to make you richer than Lord Falnar.” He hissed, baring his teeth when Sinister pulled the bolt out.

  “You’d be surprised how easily a lord’s funds can drain away with MC gangs like yours always swooping in to take a cut.” Matais’ tone sounded dark, but I didn’t fail to notice the way his eyes grew large when he saw Sheriff’s reaction to the bolt coming out.

  “Revenge?” Sheriff gritted. He didn’t flinch while Sinister cleaned and disinfected his wound. “That’s why you’ve been stealing from us for months? You wanted to punish us because we wear cuts?”

  “You’re pirates. You aren’t innocent victims.”

  “You made a deal with the devil, Matais.” Sheriff braced his arm on his knee while Sinister sewed the wound up with a needle and thread. “When I kill you, I’ll be doing you a favor.”

  Matais shook his head, a smile twisting his face. “You were never supposed t
o make it to that summit. I don’t know how you’re alive.”

  Sheriff’s brows slashed down. “Madi’san. You sent that little slave bitch to kill me. Grizzle was working for you.”

  “Madi’san was extremely well trained. What did you do to her?”

  There was an odd anger in his voice. The kind of anger my men showed when someone hurt me. Maker, he was in love with her. I shuddered.

  “Madi’san is dead. She bit a cyanide tooth. I’m guessing you taught her to do that.”

  Matais’ head lowered, his lips twisting with rage.

  “I’m told Grizzle squealed like a stuck pig before Hawk gutted him,” Sheriff said.

  “You should have let Damien have her.” Matais jerked his head at me. “You have no idea what’s coming. She’ll never be safe with you, and as long as she’s with you, you’ll never be safe from him, either.”

  “Him who? Julian?” Sheriff’s voice was a whip snapping.

  “Yes.” Matais shivered.

  “Who is he?”

  Matais looked away.

  Sheriff looked at Savage and Beast.

  “Beast,” Sinister said glancing up at him with a nod.

  Beast untied one of Matais’ wrists and grabbed his arm, twisting it up behind his back. Matais cried out. Beast gripped his wrist with one hand, his fingers with the other, tensing. My breath caught, realizing what he would do if Matais didn’t cooperate.

  “Answer him,” Sinister demanded in a perfectly cool voice while he tied off the thread on Sheriff’s wound. “Answer him, or Beast will snap your fingers one at a time.”

  Matais heaved in shallow breaths. Beast loosened his grip on Matais’ fingers. The lord lifted his eyes to Sheriff.

  “I don’t know who he is. All I know—”

  Beast bent one of his fingers back and there was a horrible snap of bone. Matais screamed.

  “I’m telling you the truth! All I know is what Damien told me. Damien said he’s evil. Like the devil come to life.”

  “Evil how?” Sheriff demanded. Hawk handed his shirt to Sinister, having torn into strips, and Sinister began wrapping Sheriff’s arm.