Salvation: Saving Setora Book Seven

by Dark, Raven

  Then he’d pointed out the plain and simple fact that they’d stolen from him and went against his orders. Seeing the theft from his perspective quashed any amusement I felt over what they’d done. Lastly, he’d told me what he was planning to do to Pretty Boy and Steel for their actions.

  For what felt like several minutes, I’d stood in the doorway to the living room staring at him in numbed disbelief.

  Truth be told, the concept of a man being whipped as a punishment wasn’t new to me. Not after growing up in Damien’s household among the J’nai.

  For Hawk to have to punish his best friends, especially in the manner he intended… Now I understood why he’d emptied half a whiskey bottle. Hawk only drank when he was under extreme stress.

  “Tell me you’re joking,” I repeated slowly.

  “No, Kitten, I’m not.” Eyes on the living room window, seemingly staring out at the path that led through the village, Hawk’s tone was low and even.

  And iron-hard.

  He wasn’t joking at all. I could hear it in this voice, the cold resolution of a man who meant to assert his authority and hold together a club on the verge of shattering.

  For a heartbeat, I closed my eyes and licked my lips. “That’s…a little harsh, isn’t it, Master? Steel and Pretty Boy are your friends, Hawk.”

  He shook his head. “No, they aren’t, Setora.”

  I blinked. “What?” Was he so livid with them that he’d break up the Four, that he’d abandon the friendship of his Brothers, throwing it all away?

  The muscles in his back rippled under the leather of his cut before he turned and faced me. “Today, none of the men in the Legion are my friends. Today, I am their General. It is critical that they see me as such.”

  Why did he always have to be so logical? My eyes watered. “Master.”

  More than seeing Pretty Boy and Steel suffering pain for having done something that was meant to save Sheriff’s sight and help the club, I hated what other consequences Hawk’s choice might have.

  “Master, you are the Four. They were only trying to help Sheriff.”

  “But they weren’t, Kitten.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He made a frustrated sound. “All right, they were, but that’s not the only reason they did this. Do you think it’s a coincidence that Steel was the one who led that incursion, or that he started planning it right after he saw what Master Leif made me do to you?”

  “Oh, Master, really! You really think they deliberately did this to get back at Master Leif? Pretty Boy and Steel aren’t that petty.”

  “Aren’t they?” His voice had hardened again. “They stole you just to piss Damien off.”

  “That’s not the same thing. Damien was a tyrant, a man who didn’t deserve anyone’s respect. They wouldn’t have stolen from Master Leif—from your tai dan—out of revenge. Not when we have so much to lose.”

  “I think they would have,” Hawk said evenly. “As much for his refusing to help Sheriff, as for what he did to you. I think they love you, and they were angry with him.”

  I shook my head and paced the room before coming to stand in front of him again. As usual, I was about to overstep my place, but I couldn’t help myself. “Hawk, I’d just hate to see you ruin your friendship and break up the Four just to assert your authority.”

  A heavy sigh left him as he pushed too heavily to his feet. Hawk crossed the room to me with a slight and uncharacteristic sway that I might not have noticed if I didn’t know him so well. The faint scent of whiskey on his breath heightened my senses. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell. He took my arms gently.

  “Kitten, I’ll be honest. If I wasn’t part of the Order, and if Master Leif wasn’t my teacher, I probably wouldn’t be punishing them. They did this mostly out of loyalty to Sheriff, because they were desperate. If stealing wasn’t part of who they were, we wouldn’t have you.” His fingers massaged my nape. “They’re good men whose hearts are usually in the right place.”

  “Their hearts were in the right place this time, too, Master.”

  “No. Listen to me, Setora. Because I am their General, but I am also Yantu, their actions put me in a bad place. It means that in stealing from the Yantu, they’ve violated me, and in doing so, violated club law.”

  I dropped my arms. It wasn’t as if I didn’t see his point. Hawk’s unique membership in both organizations meant those organizations were linked, and that put the Yantu off limits from the Dark Legion’s piracy. But the way Hawk meant to handle their transgression still felt wrong.

  “Master, public whippings are what Damien used to do to his J’nai when they refused to beat a slave or kill someone Damien didn’t like. It hurts like the fires of hell itself, worse than any punishment I’ve ever had, if the reactions I’ve seen from the J’nai are any indication. It takes weeks to heal. You’re better than that.”

  His jaw hardened, and his hands slid from me. Guilt squirmed in me at the hurt in his eyes. He looked stung.

  “Did you just compare me to Damien?” he slurred.

  “Master, I didn’t mean—”

  “Didn’t you? That was low, Kitten. I appreciate that you don’t want to see your men suffer, but don’t try to manipulate me out of this. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “I didn’t,” I gritted out. “That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want to see you go too far, Master. If you do this, you could damage what you and the others have. You could destroy the Four.”

  Something crossed his features then, an expression so fleeting I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. Then his face was a mask again. “I have been the General for less than two full days. I cannot be seen going easy on the men. Not for this.”

  “I get it, but…” My stomach knotted, roiling with the old memories that screamed through my thoughts. He was not in his right mind; I needed to tread carefully here. “You may not come back from this.”

  “It won’t be as bad as you think. You’ll see for yourself, this is the only way they will learn. You’ll see, because you’ll be there, watching every lash.”

  I shook my head vehemently. “No, Master… I won’t. I can’t let you do this. I can’t.”

  A huge overstep, but I couldn’t make myself stop.

  He slid his hand around my nape, a tight grip. “Yes, you can. You can, and you will. Pretty Boy and Steel will deal. Six lashes for each of them, and then it will be over. You’ll see the world won’t have ended. There will have been no need for you to play Liberator, to play hero—”

  “Hawk!” I snapped, feeling mocked, as if he was making fun of the title I’d been given, a title I didn’t want.

  He shrugged. “We will still be the Four, and you will still have your men when I am done.”

  I crossed my arms. “You’re drunk. This isn’t going to happen.”

  “Yes, it will. And I am not drunk. I am ferfectly pine. And if you want to keep challenging me like this, you can take a post next to them and get your ass welted.”

  “You’re going too far, Master,” I whispered, not able to keep my thoughts to myself.

  “Your opinion is not required. You will be there tomorrow, and the two of them will get every lash I promised. End of discussion. You have a meeting with Ali’san, do you not?” He nodded to the door. “You’d better get going over to Bear’s or you’ll be late.”

  I made an angry sound. Of course, he would use my obligations to Ali’san to shut me up. “We’ll talk about this later. When you’re sober.”

  “Nope, we won’t.” He opened the door for me.

  I marched out toward the path.

  “I love you, Kitten,” Hawk slurred, and I could hear his smile.

  Ugh. For weeks, I’d been wishing I’d hear those words from him, and he had to say them now when all I wanted to do was slap him. I wished I had Cherry’s mouth so I could tell him to fuck off.

  I ignored him and headed for Bear’s hut in a huff.

  None of what was happening felt remotely right. Pretty Boy and
Steel had acted in the best interest of their club, had merely been trying to help Sheriff in the only way they thought they had left. I refused to think they’d done it out of revenge, not when they knew Master Leif was Hawk’s tai dan. If Hawk went through with this plan—a plan I was sure he would not have come up with if he wasn’t inebriated—Pretty Boy and Steel would feel betrayed and I was sure their friendship would never survive. He’d have gone too far.

  There was only one way to solve this.

  Halfway to Bear’s, I froze. Sheriff had to talk some sense into all three of them. But he wouldn’t do that unless someone snapped him out of his bottomless funk.

  My fists clenched. Hawk’s warning as to what he’d do to me if I went near Sheriff rang through my head. I shook it off. The club’s stability and the Four were more important. They were more important than any danger Sheriff might pose to me as well.

  I huffed, spun around, and made my way toward Sheriff’s hut, praying to the Maker the whole way that this situation would fix itself. And that Hawk would forgive me.

  Hawk would be angry, but I couldn’t make myself care enough to turn back.

  The path up to Sheriff’s hut traveled up a sight incline, wide and hard-packed with deep tracks from horse-drawn carriages. The path went straight up to the hut’s front door which stood closed, and judging by what all the guys in the Legion had said, probably locked.

  Locked, shutting everyone out.

  Maker, he was such an ornery, stubborn cuss of a man, but I missed him. I missed his unyielding way of dealing with things, his effortless authority. The way he had of keeping the club on the right path, always moving in the right direction. I missed the stability he offered not only me, but everyone under his command. And Maker help me, I missed the way he made every part of me burn with only a look, the way he set my body on fire with a single caress of his masterful hand.

  The thought that he’d let all that end, let us end, made me feel as if my heart would break apart in my chest. And it killed me that he didn’t realize what he was doing to the Dark Legion.

  Ten feet from the front door, I looked up at hut, the first twinge of nervousness tightening my gut. Thick maple trees extended leafy branches over the roof, giving the hut a look that should have been whimsical and peaceful, but instead, casting shadows that made it appear isolated, dark, and foreboding. If Sheriff was in as sour a mood as everyone said he was…

  Seconds ago, I’d been determined to march up here and give him a piece of my mind, but now I was starting to think I was making a huge mistake.

  I swallowed and made my way toward the front door. At this point, he was the only one who could talk sense into Hawk and set Pretty Boy and Steel straight. The man needed to shake off his self pity and set this club right before it was too late. I had to believe that once he heard how far downhill things had gone, it would be enough to snap him out of it. And if it worked, Sheriff might finally decide to help himself.

  When I reached the door, I froze and listened for any sign he was awake and moving around inside. The windows, all without glass like the rest of the huts, lay dark, the inside without any light. Not a good sign. Not a sound came from within.

  I lifted my fist to rap on the door.

  A twig on the path behind me snapped, echoing in the quiet. I whipped around.

  Hawk stood ten feet down the path. Light, I must have been standing at the end of the path trying to get the nerve to come up here for longer than I thought. Hawk and his Yantu quietness; he’d come that close without my even hearing him.

  How had he managed to do that while drunk?

  “Master…” I swallowed hard.

  He stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression a scowl of disapproval that brought to mind his promise to punish me if I came up here without permission.

  Would he drag me away from here and make good on his promise? I shivered, hating the guilt that gnawed at me for going against him.

  “It didn’t take you long to break your promise to me, did it?” he said, closing enough of the distance between us that I could hear him clearly. His voice was ice. If I hadn’t known him as well as I did, I would have been scared.

  “Hawk, I didn’t…” My guilt mounted, robbing me of anything I could say that would make what I’d done sound right. “I’m sorry, Master, but someone has to snap Sheriff out of this. I’m the only one who hasn’t tried. And there has to be a better way to deal with Steel and Pretty Boy than…what you’re planning to do.”

  Hawk’s mouth tightened. As soon as it did, I realized how my words must have sounded. I dropped my head back. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Like what? Like Sheriff would know better than me?” He closed in, slow and predatory. Menace dripped from his voice.

  With nothing appropriate to say, I just sighed and waited for him to make the next move. Accepting what was coming.

  Hawk stopped on the path. He nodded to the door of the hut. “Go on.”

  “What?” I’d heard him, I just didn’t understand why, after all the effort he’d gone through to keep me from Sheriff, he was now letting me try to talk to him.

  “You’re hoping he’ll put a stop to what’s going to happen. You think I’m going too far, and he will agree with you. Go on then. Let’s see what happens.”

  I hated that he was right. Doubt crept in, dark and insidious.

  I licked my lips, shut those doubts down, turned around, and knocked on the door.

  “Go away!” Sheriff’s rough growl drifted out before I could say anything.

  Okay, not a great start. It didn’t sound like he knew who it was, so I had to assume he hadn’t heard us out here. Maybe he’d been napping. It was easier to think that than to think he just didn’t want to see me.

  “Sheriff?” My voice shook. “Please let me in. The club needs you.”

  “Go away, Setora. No one needs me right now. Hawk’s got things well in hand, I’m sure.”

  I suppressed a sigh and wished to hell Hawk wasn’t standing right there.

  “Sheriff, please let me just talk with you. Enough of this. The club is falling apart without you. Do you know what Pretty Boy and Steel just did for you?”

  “Yeah. I heard all about it from Doc, sweetheart,” he said, his voice coming closer.

  “Well, do you know what’s going to happen to them now because of it?”

  A chair scraped across the floor and something thumped. Had worry for Pretty Boy and Steel got his attention?

  Feet shuffled on the other side of the door. A lock clicked and the door opened.

  As soon as I saw him, a mix of relief and sadness flooded me. Sheriff didn’t look on the verge of death the way I’d half expected him to, but he did look terrible. Several inches of dark beard covered his face, and his normally short, neatly cropped hair was now scraggy and oily. The muscles on his frame stood out, his cheeks hollow, and his clothes sagged on him—he’d lost a lot of weight. Maker, he was unrecognizable. If not for the fiery, angry light in his indigo eyes, I wouldn’t have recognized him at all.

  “Light…” I breathed.

  An expression that looked like pain crossed his features, somehow visible even with that beard. He looked as if my presence physically hurt him. The notion stung. Was being near me so painful that he couldn’t bear it?

  I thought his nostrils flared a little, as if he were smelling me. What in Maker’s name?

  I focused on his eyes, and immediately wished I hadn’t. They were still as sharp and as piercing as ever, but he looked right through me, as if he was guessing where I was. And his gaze didn’t flick to Hawk behind me, didn’t react the way one normally would have to another person there.

  I cleared my throat. “Sheriff…”

  A longing to throw my arms around him tugged at me, my chest tightening with empathy for him. I wanted to tell him I was there for him, that he wasn’t alone. Then I wanted to slap him and tell him to smarten up. I wanted to tell him to let me in, to let me help him. Let
me cook him a meal, wash his clothes, shave the forest off his face, and for Maker’s sake, let me give him a bath, but the words stuck in my throat and I couldn’t move.

  “Sheriff… Master, Pretty Boy and Steel have gotten themselves into some serious trouble this time. And Hawk insists on whipping them. Everyone’s losing their minds. I’ll help you clean up and get into town, but we need you. Now.”

  I didn’t know what I expected him to do, but I definitely didn’t expect the reaction he gave. When I’d mentioned the whipping, his brows went up. Then his lips broke into a smirk.

  “Well, good. It’s about time someone forced those two to grow the fuck up.”

  My jaw dropped.

  Sheriff’s eyes flashed with triumph. “Tell Hawk to give those assclowns an extra lash from me for doing something so stupid. And after he lets you have it for coming here, tell him to give himself one for disobeying my orders.”

  “Master, don’t be mad at him for my being here. I came here because you need me. My master needs me. You can’t expect me to ignore that. Please let me inside to help you?”

  He shook his head. Then he said the words I’d been secretly terrified of all along. “I am not your master anymore, Setora. Don’t come near me again.”

  And with that, he slammed the door in my face.

  Chapter 15

  Damage

  It was a strange thing, what had just happened at Sheriff’s door right then.

  From Damien’s vast library, I’d read hundreds of stories, many of them from the Old World, and many of them telling of the now famous relationships that had existed back then. Back in the time when machines rode the skies, and books had been largely transferred from paper to electronic devices. Back before the virus had decimated the world, before women became so scarce that the world governments deemed it necessary to reduce all females to the mandatory status of slaves.

  That was a time when women were married to men as wives, what Steel had promised to make me one day. When people weren’t always bonded by any kind of legal contract. In that day, relationships ended at the will of the involved partners, as often on the word of the woman as the man. I remembered reading of, and being fascinated by, the concept of a partner simply severing their bond with something as alien to me as the idea of an end itself. Something they called a “break-up.”