Solace

by Raven Dark

  I turned and found Setora staring pale-faced at Saketh’s head. She looked like she was going to throw up.

  “Come here, Kitten.” I wrapped her in my arms, blocking her view with my frame and glanced at Sheriff who winced. “Don’t look. Breathe, Kitten.”

  “See?” Sheriff rubbed her back. “This is why women should never leave the fucking Grotto, pussy be damned. Doc, get over here.”

  “I got her, Sheriff.” Doc handed Setora over to Steel, who picked her up as Doc checked her over.

  “Doc, how’s Beast?” I asked. “Is he all right?”

  “He’s got a hell of a headache, but he’ll be fine. Come on, Steel, bring her over here.” Doc turned and waved Steel over to a room off to the side, away from the gruesome scene. He stopped one of the Angels of Mayhem and asked him to send in someone with drink and food. Cherry followed them.

  “She shouldn’t have come,” Sheriff said to me now. “We should have brought Mayhem to us.”

  “You—”

  “I’m afraid that wouldn’t have been possible, General.”

  I turned at the unfamiliar voice. A tall, bare-chested man with a dragon tattoo on his chest dropped a blood-soaked sword on the floor.

  When we both looked curiously at him, he held out his big, ring-covered hand. “General Sheriff. And Captain…Hawk, is it?”

  I nodded.

  “Mayhem,” he said, shaking our hands. “General of the Angels of Mayhem, and the man whose crew now owes the Dark Legion their lives.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Sheriff said. “It’s becoming an annoyingly common thing of late, this heroism shit.”

  Mayhem chuckled, then became serious.

  “Listen, Sheriff, I hope you don’t think Saketh and his cronies being here was my doing. We didn’t set a trap for you, much as it looks that way.”

  Sheriff glanced around. “How did they get in?”

  “Turns out I had a spy. One of my personal guards was in communication with Saketh. Apparently, he read the correspondence between you and me. He sent a message to the Hellhounds right after he knew you’d be coming here today. There’s a secret entrance under the fortress that guard left open for them. I didn’t know about any of this until they showed up and Saketh bragged about it.”

  Sheriff’s lips pulled into an empathetic wince. “And I take it the spy’s been dealt with now?”

  Mayhem nodded. “Killed him myself. General, I know you probably didn’t plan on staying long, but we insist. You’ll want a bath and a good meal. Then I’ll introduce you to D, and she and your Violet can talk.”

  “Where is D, General?” I asked Mayhem. “Is she here?” I didn’t see another Violet or any of Mayhem’s women here now.

  “I put the women in a panic room as soon as Saketh’s men started storming this place. D is with them.”

  “Is she all right?” Sheriff asked.

  “She’s been knocked out with drugs most of the time since she started having those episodes. She’s fine.”

  “I appreciate your hospitality,” Sheriff said. “As soon as we can, I’d like us to speak with your Violet, see what it is she knows.”

  “I imagine you do. But right now, I need to get my club back in order. Bastion, my man over there, will show you where you can wash up. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

  Sheriff nodded, but it looked a little forced and his shoulders dropped. Inwardly I smiled. He hated delays.

  It looked like we would be here a while.

  Chapter 21

  Mayhem and Dalathine

  The buzzing in my head was a constant hum.

  It had started the moment we’d gone beyond the gates of this place and hadn’t let up since. It was faint, a barely there tingling on the inside of my brain, but I couldn’t tell if that was because the Violet causing it was so far away, elsewhere in the fortress, or because her abilities weren’t that strong.

  As soon as the fighting had ended, Doc and one of Mayhem’s men—Bastion, I thought his name was—took me to a sitting room. Cherry had followed us and remained sitting with me. One of the Angels of Mayhem’s women had brought me a tray of food and, as per Doc’s request, mint tea to settle my stomach. Almost an hour had passed, and I still couldn’t get the image of Saketh’s head lying on that throne room floor out of my mind.

  T-Man, Pretty Boy, and Steel had joined us, Pretty Boy holding me on his lap at a small table while I ate. Steel and T-Man sat in lounge chairs across from us, talking with Doc.

  The woman who’d come with the food, Yuna, took in Pretty Boy rocking me in his arms with a smile. As she left, I half heard Cherry ask the woman where she could go to relieve herself. T-Man got up to escort her, clearly unwilling to let her out of his sight. Cherry gave him a look as though she’d rather walk on coals than go with him, but the three of them stepped out.

  Yuna had brought me enough food to feed two people—a plate of cold meats, cheeses and buttery bread with a whole pot of mint tea—but I didn’t taste any of it. I’d been feeling weak since I’d left the carriage, but at least the food had me feeling almost right again.

  Doc poured me another mug of tea and then set the half empty tray away, on a table near the window. Late morning sunlight streamed in through the small window, making the gorgeous gold inlays on the room’s marble floor gleam. I guessed by the position of the sun, it was ten in the morning or so, but it felt much later.

  I couldn’t focus my thoughts enough to take in anything anyone said around me. Putting my head against Pretty Boy’s shoulder, I let my mind wander. I had so many questions, but I was too shaken by what had happened earlier to voice them.

  How had Saketh and his men ended up here? How long had Mayhem’s men been in those cages before we’d shown up? After seeing what the Hellhounds had put the Lone Rebels through, I didn’t like to think what would have happened to the Angels of Mayhem if we hadn’t shown up when we did.

  The double doors to the room opened, catching my attention. Sheriff and Hawk stepped in, both of them with their hair combed, the blood gone from their cuts and boots.

  “What’s going on, General?” Steel said, standing up from the chair and stretching.

  “Mayhem’s taking care of some things. There’s one a hell of a mess out there. Cherry’s in the kitchens helping out, and Sin and his crew are helping dispose of the bodies.

  “Where are the others?” Steel went over and took a slice of cold ham from the tray and popped the meat in his mouth whole.

  Sheriff took the chair Steel had been sitting in. “Blade, T-Man, and Grim are bringing some of our stuff in. The weapons and whatnot. I don’t expect any more trouble, but after the welcome we got coming in here, you never know.”

  “So I’m guessing that stuff about Mayhem not allowing weapons in here was bull shit?” Pretty Boy said, tightening his arms around my waist.

  “Yeah.” Hawk sat on the floor by the doors since there were no more places to sit. He crossed his legs. “Saketh made that up to get us to disarm.”

  “Clever fuck,” Steel said, still stuffing his face with ham.

  “How long you think we’ll be staying here, Sheriff?” Pretty Boy asked.

  Sheriff leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “Don’t know yet. I’d like to be gone when it starts getting dark, but depending on what information this D has, we could be here a lot longer.”

  The doors opened again, and Hawk stood up as Eagle Eye entered.

  “Mayhem will see you now,” Eagle Eye told us. “He’s waiting in the clubhouse.”

  Sheriff stood up. “I’d like to bring Setora with us.”

  Eagle Eye nodded. “Mayhem will have D brought to him shortly. Your Violet can speak with her.”

  “Perfect.” Sheriff turned to his men. “Doc, go to the kitchens and find Cherry, then both of you wait here. The rest of you, let’s get this done.” He walked over and pulled me out of Pretty Boy’s lap.

  Steel came over to me. “Come here, Petal. Up you get.” He was ab
out to scoop me into his arms.

  “I’m okay to walk, Master. I feel a lot better after eating.” I really was feeling better, but even if I hadn’t been, I didn’t want to be carried around in front of all these people I didn’t know, looking like I was too weak to do anything for myself. I wanted to appear like the strong woman my Four needed, one Mayhem’s Angels would expect my Four to have.

  Steel looked closely at me but nodded and escorted me to the doors.

  My Four flanked me on all sides as we headed down a maze of halls. After what must have been a good five minutes, we came to a set of double doors with the symbol of Mayhem’s Angels carved into each. The clubhouse doors opened and two of the Angels let us in.

  The main room of the large clubhouse wasn’t all that different from the one in the Grotto. Torches provided plenty of light, illuminating several pool tables scattered about the room, a long mahogany bar with bottles of liquor on the wall behind it, and plenty of leather couches and chairs for meetings.

  Church, the Four called it.

  At the back of the room, I saw another set of doors, bigger ones, also carved intricately with the skull holding the scythe. The faint smell of cigar smoke and tobacco hung in the air, a pleasantly masculine smell mingled with leather and the scent of the cedar wood paneling.

  No one was in the room when we’d walked in, but as soon as the guard at the doors closed them, the ones at the back opened and Mayhem stepped out.

  “Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen. D will be here in a few minutes. I’ve had Stitch wake her.”

  We followed Mayhem over to a set of couches arranged in a square with a table sitting in the middle of them. Sheriff tugged me down onto one of the couches beside him.

  Mayhem sat on the couch across from us. He pulled a large, crystal ashtray toward him and took out a cigar from inside his cut.

  “I have to thank you again for helping us out with those Hellhound scum,” Mayhem said, lighting his cigar with a match and putting the match in the ashtray. He puffed until the end of the cigar glowed. I loved the woodsy scent, and for a moment I thought of Dice. “You men are far from the pirates I would have expected.”

  “Oh, no,” Sheriff said with a grin. “We are the pirates you expected. It’s just that the Dregs are worse.”

  Mayhem chuckled. “That they are.” He sat back on the couch and blew a smoke ring into the air. “We’d be happy to have you stay here as long as you need, Sheriff. It’s the least we can do.”

  Looking at Mayhem, really looking at him for the first time, he reminded me of an older version of Sheriff, only a few inches shorter and almost as broad. He looked about forty, with salt and pepper hair to his shoulders, the top half of it pulled back like Pretty Boy’s. Deep, whiskey-colored eyes showed the wisdom of someone ten years older. Dark stubble emphasized his strong jaw. He wore his cut now, half hiding a magnificent dragon tattoo that covered his chest in red and gold. Gold rings covered his tattooed fingers, not unlike Sheriff’s, all skulls and crows and flame shapes.

  Mayhem looked at me, his brow raising upward as he took in my purple hair that fell to my waist. He said nothing for a moment, and I felt suddenly self-conscious, wishing I’d had the presence of mind to comb it before meeting with our host. I didn’t need to see it to know it was a tangled mess.

  “You look much better now, little one,” he finally said.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He continued watching me intently. Why was he looking at me that way? He had a Violet; he couldn’t have been shocked to see one.

  “Mayhem?” Sheriff’s voice was a little tight.

  Mayhem shook himself and looked at my Four. “So, this is the famous Worldmaker. The Liberator that madman Dreg was raving about when he got here.” He flicked his cigar into the ashtray and nodded to Eagle Eye. “Send her in now.”

  I sat up straighter, adjusting my frock, but as soon as the doors to the room opened, I froze.

  I didn’t need to look at the doors to know she was there. D. The buzzing in my head became so intense it was a scream, making me swoon. I leaned forward with a whimper.

  “Setora?” Sheriff touched my hand.

  I held my head, rubbing it. “Sorry. She’s very…strong.”

  Across the room, a woman groaned, and I knew without seeing her, she was reacting to the feel of my mind in hers. Mayhem got up and went to her. He murmured something to her and helped her to the couch.

  Out of respect, I should have stood, but my head felt too light to move. After a moment or two, the dizziness began to pass, and I shook off the lingering hum in my mind.

  “You all right, D?” Mayhem’s voice was distorted while the last of the wooziness passed. The woman replied, equally garbled.

  I slowly stood up, intending to give the First Slave the customary bow. If only I could focus my eyes.

  “Setora, this is Dalathine, my First Slave.”

  I focused my eyes on her. As soon as I did, my jaw dropped. I had to be seeing things. The woman before me couldn’t be who I thought.

  But she was. Her mouth opened.

  “Maker take me, it can’t be…” she gasped.

  For a full minute, all I did was stare at her. When I finally found my voice, I heard myself say one word over the hammering of the blood in my ears.

  “Mother.”

  The End of Book 5 of

  SAVING SETORA

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  Acknowledgments

  From Raven & Petra

  Thank you so much for continuing this journey with our lavender-haired heroine and her twisted men! We look forward to getting Book Six out to you as soon as we can.

  We’d like to thank all the members on our ARC team, our beta readers, our proofreader, and all of you in The Grotto! To our families and friends, and most especially, you the reader, thanks for all the love and support. You rock!

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