Salvation: Saving Setora Book Seven

by Dark, Raven

  He waited, head down while Hawk came in behind him and tied the post to his wrists.

  Maker, Hawk had chosen to enact the Ritual of Penance. An Old World punishment where the criminal carried their own heavy post for miles and then had to dig the hole for it and erect it before the lash fell.

  I wasn’t sure what shocked me more, that Steel cooperated without complaint, or that he went through the motions as if he’d done it a hundred times.

  I had a terrible feeling that he had—and from whom.

  While Steel was kneeling, I reached out a trembling hand, meaning to set it on top of his head, to offer comfort. But I wouldn’t—couldn’t—interfere. I wouldn’t betray Hawk that way. Instead, I settled on a quick prayer to the Maker.

  Steel pushed to his feet without missing a beat.

  “Let’s go.” Hawk’s tone was virtually without emotion, perfect Yantu calm in force. He led the way down the path that headed out of the village.

  I looked back at Pretty Boy. An urge to hug him and comfort him as well pulled at me, but I knew better than to try.

  Pretty Boy made a funny face at me, an inevitable attempt to reassure and make light of things. I wanted to laugh, but it came out a broken groan, and my eyes stung. Light, I loved them both so much.

  Not far from the edge of the village, Doc and Hawk’s other two guards joined us, Oran and Rig flanking our group, but staying unobtrusively back. Doc had his medical kit with him.

  I swallowed. I’d seen enough of these punishments to know why he was there. A little rub-on cream wouldn’t be enough for them. Doc was there to tend to them after.

  Maker help me.

  Chapter 17

  Point of No Return

  We walked in silence. The minutes dragged on, insufferably slow, but I wasn’t afraid. We were the Dark Legion. It took a lot more than a few lashes across the back to scare a long-time biker like me. Legion men didn’t panic or run from their mistakes or punishments. But this wasn’t an ordinary punishment, and I sure as hell knew Steel and I hadn’t made a mistake in taking that Dragon’s Bane from the Yantu.

  No matter what Hawk thought.

  Stealing from him. Give me a break. Defying him, sure, I’d admit to that. How many times had I defied Sheriff when he was my General? How many times had Hawk defied him? When Setora had gone missing, in the clutches of those Critian cannibal fucks, who was it that had defied Sheriff’s orders to stay put and not get involved? Hawk. Seemed like he could pick and choose which orders were more important than others. How fucking convenient for him.

  This was Sheriff’s life, and Hawk had chosen to side with the Yantu over the club. And not only that, I couldn’t help but think he was giving up. Giving up on Sheriff, giving up on all hope of getting this club back to some kind of normalcy. He didn’t give a shit; otherwise, he sure as hell wouldn’t be doing what he was about to do now.

  Steel and I weren’t being ordered to clean the village latrines, shoveling shit for hours, back-breaking, stinky work Dice had so often subjected me to as a child in Mount Dire in an effort to curb my “attitude.” We weren’t being given the strap after mouthing off to the Village Watch. Steel and I were about to be whipped, right across the back like a couple of wayward slaves who had gone one step too far and pissed Master off.

  Sure, I knew Hawk wouldn’t do anything to cause irreparable damage. As mad as I was, I still kept things in perspective. Even so, this was no child’s punishment. Today, we’d feel a pain that we would remember for a lifetime, branded into our minds as effectively as the scars that would be left on our backs.

  This was going to hurt like a motherfucker.

  For the first twenty minutes of the trek, I stared at Hawk up in front, glaring at his back and plotting out his death. Setora walked beside us, her face pale and bloodless in the growing morning light. Her head was down, shoulders slumped in defeat. I gritted my teeth at Hawk and imagined strangling the bastard slowly.

  Hawk led the group through one of the thickest forests I’d ever seen. The woods spread out to the west of the village of Ran Tama for miles, stretching to the north, right up to the Temple of Umbi’s ass end. Away from any villagers. Heaven forbid real world problems upset the Yantu’s peace-loving sensibilities. I had to seriously wonder how Hawk could put up with—much less cater to—Master Leif and his judgmental views, especially after everything Leif had done.

  Half of the trek led up a hill into the forest where I’d walked with Princess the other day. The path narrowed enough in places that Steel had to turn sideways and carefully pick his way between trees to keep the post across his shoulders from bumping into them.

  Ordinarily, carrying that thing, even for nearly a half hour, would have been nothing for him. Steel had always been incredibly strong, sometimes enough to appear supernatural. But ten minutes into the hike, I began to see the method to Hawk’s madness in taking the steeper slope when there were plenty of flatter paths. Carrying that post for half a mile was nothing for Steel, except when he was trudging uphill. The incline forced him to push harder on his legs, gravity making every step feel heavier and forcing him to bend forward to avoid the weight of the post sending him toppling backward. His face was slicked with sweat, and the front of his cut almost soaked.

  Watching Steel’s every step, I had to curb the urge to take the post from him, especially when he started panting.

  A root caught his foot, and he stumbled, almost dropping to one knee without his hands to steady him. Hawk looked back, checking on us, and Setora rushed over, not that she could have with helped in anyway. I grabbed the rope on one of Steel’s wrists, meaning to untie it and take the post from him.

  “Pretty Boy,” Hawk warned from up ahead. “Don’t help him.”

  I was so angry, I was seeing red. I didn’t trust myself to speak, which was unlike me, but Setora was there, and she was already upset enough.

  Maybe Steel thought I was going to go against Hawk anyway, because he shook his head. “Keep going, PB. I’m good,” he grunted, pushing to a stand.

  I growled, but backed off, and we pressed on.

  At last, the path flattened out, leveling off. I privately sighed with relief. Setora looked equally relieved. Hawk halted the party and untied Steel’s wrists, lifting the post off his shoulders. He gave Steel a drink from a canteen Doc had brought. Steel drank greedily, his chest puffing.

  “This is crazy, Hawk,” I said, taking the canteen from Steel and screwing the cap on for him. “We get the point. Enough’s enough.”

  Ignoring me, Hawk handed the canteen back to Steel for the moment and walked in behind me. “Your turn.”

  I whipped around and opened my mouth to let him have it. Then I looked at an exhausted Steel and closed it. Better I take the post the rest of the way than him

  “Hawk, I got it.” Steel grabbed for the post. “Let me carry it. I can manage.”

  Shit, I loved him.

  “This is not about whether you can handle it, Steel.” Hawk straightened the ropes he’d used on Steel’s wrists. “I know you can. This is about both of you learning what happens when you betray the club, when you betray me. Pretty Boy has to learn as much as you.”

  Fucking Maker, he was such a pompous ass. That cold, Yantu calm—that superiority of his—only made it worse.

  “But—” Steel started.

  “Steel, shut up, man,” I said, dropping my shoulders. “I’m not a pussy. I won’t break.”

  Hawk grabbed my wrists and untied them. Setora watched, looking like she was on the verge of tears, watching Hawk as if she’d never seen him before. He didn’t speak to her, didn’t look at her.

  Putting my back to Hawk, I dropped to one knee, as Steel had done before. Hawk set the long post on my shoulders and the weight of it stunned me. The rough bark scraped my neck. I steadied the post with my hands, suddenly gaining a new respect for Steel’s strength. He’d made carrying it up that hill look comparatively easy.

  Hawk tied my wrists to each end of the
post, pulling the ropes tight enough to secure them in place without giving me an inch of movement. I pushed to my feet hard. Fuck, even with the flatter landscape, this was going to suck ass.

  After Hawk tied Steel’s wrists together, we continued on. Every step made the post feel heavier, until I felt like I was wearing a carriage on my back.

  Holier Than Thou Hawk was behaving as if we’d stolen his prized knife collection for fun and then terrorized the town with them rather than helping a friend. The ends justified the means, in my book. And let’s not forget, this was who we were. Pirates stole. They took what they wanted.

  Setora walked between us, giving the post enough room. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you, Master?” she asked Steel quietly.

  “Too many times to count, Petal.”

  “When you were a Gladiator,” she added with painful certainty.

  He nodded. “Visik liked to do it if fighters refused a match.” He said this so casually, without the malice I would have expected, that I stared at him. It felt like I hardly knew him.

  Visik had whipped him? He’d never told me that.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, touching his wrist.

  So was I.

  “Don’t be,” Steel said. “It was a long time ago. And don’t be pissed at Hawk for this. This isn’t the same thing. You know that, right?”

  She looked straight ahead, biting her lip. I could see the disapproval, the worry for us all over her face. The anger with Hawk.

  Personally, I was with her.

  “Things gotta change, Petal.” Steel’s voice was matter-of-fact. Resolute. Determined. And totally unrecognizable to me. “If we’re going to stand a snowball’s chance against this Julian fuck and protect you, we gotta step up. No more games.”

  “But...” She trailed off and clicked her teeth.

  “No buts, Petal. Playtime is over. We crossed a line. We need this.”

  His words slammed into me so hard I almost tripped. The weight of the post unbalanced me, and I nearly ended up face-planting the dirt.

  We needed this? What the fuck, man? Who the hell was this giant that had stolen Steel’s body and was now impersonating him?

  For the record, I understood what he was getting at about Julian. I was as protective of Setora as he was, but did he think I wouldn’t take something like Julian seriously? Steel knew me. He knew I got serious when it counted. Cooperating with this punishment shit was one thing, but this? We’d always been a team, inseparable. I stared at him now, at the determined set of his shoulders, the accepting look on his face, and suddenly it felt as if Steel had become a virtual stranger. He felt miles away, on the other side of a giant chasm. It cut like a knife.

  “I’m just sorry you had to go through that,” Setora told him now. “You should have told Hawk.”

  “He knows.”

  “He…” Her face went white. Her jaw clenched until I thought her teeth would break.

  Yep. Hawk didn’t give a fuck. Then again, he’d never been the most sensitive guy, had he?

  “Kitten.” Hawk had stopped on the path to look back at us. “Walk up here with me. This isn’t a picnic hike. No talking to them.”

  I ground my teeth at him.

  “Go,” Steel said when she looked at him. “We’re good here.”

  Setora stomped up to the front of the group and walked beside Hawk, her shoulders tense.

  Sometime later, around the time the feeling had left my arms and shoulders, we arrived at a clearing in the wood. The open field left plenty of room for the audience I knew would have been watching us in the Old World, only there was no one else there.

  Doc set his kit down on a log and sat down with Setora to wait. He had a comforting hand on her shoulder. Oran and Rig stood a few paces back from the rest of us, unobtrusive guards and witnesses to the club’s execution of punishment.

  Hawk untied my hands and set the post down, while Steel used the post hole digger to start boring a hole in the ground for the post. He did it without complaint, without a word.

  I suppressed a curse at not having that post not pressing down on me, and worked my shoulders out. Hawk crossed his arms and watched over the proceedings, saying nothing, his expression…expressionless.

  Fucker.

  Over several minutes, Steel dug the hole, then erected the post. Next, he attached a single thick metal loop to one side near the top.

  “I’ll go first,” Steel growled when it was all done. He stripped off his cut and handed it to Doc. His eyes were on Hawk, unflinching the whole time.

  I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. It wasn’t fear of the pain or the whip—those things Steel and I could handle. No, it was the betrayal that cut as sharp as one of Hawk’s knives.

  “Good man.” Hawk went to the post, waited until Steel faced it and then quickly tied his wrists together once more. He secured the rope to the loop on the post.

  Steel’s head went down. Every muscle in his back stood out, corded and tense, but he didn’t argue with Hawk, didn’t struggle, didn’t even sling one of his well-placed comebacks. He just accepted all of it as if it was nothing.

  Why was he just taking this?

  “Fuck that.” I stomped toward him and Hawk. “Hawk, this is fucking insane. You’re seriously going to hurt your own Brothers like a fuck—”

  Hawk flung out his hand, blocking me from Steel. “Interfere and I will have Oran restrain you.”

  Steel slung a look at me over his shoulder, and when he spoke, his voice was empty, resigned. “PB, stop. Let it go. We gotta man the fuck up.”

  Whoa. Man the… Wow.

  He looked like my best friend, my brother in arms, but there was no way the man I was looking at was the same person. I wondered if Visik had fucking brainwashed him better than either of us had ever thought, and if, now, the effects of that brainwashing was now somehow poisoning his head.

  Hawk took the whip from his belt.

  Fuck, he was really going to do this. To us. To the Four.

  I backed up, my aching shoulders dropping. “Hawk,” I said darkly, waiting for him to look at me. “You have friends right now. When this is over, you might find that you don’t…unless you stop this.”

  A gasp reached my ears. From Setora. She sounded as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Hawk unfurled the whip, and I felt as if someone had sucker-punched me.

  “Right now, today,” Hawk said tonelessly, “I have no friends. Do you see this?” He pointed to the General’s patch on his cut. “This. Today, this is all there is for you. This is all I am.”

  I just glared at him.

  Hawk turned his focus on Steel.

  The whip’s length fell to the ground, and he shook it out.

  Oran stood by my side in case I caused trouble.

  Fucking hell.

  Hawk’s arm swung in a wide arc. The whip lashed right across Steel’s back, a deafening crack that sent a fiery, crimson line across his skin.

  Steel hissed in pain, choking down a shout. Setora whimpered. I tore my eyes away, my blood boiling like fire, my vision back to red.

  The whip cracked again. Steel grunted a curse.

  My fists clenched, my teeth grinding. If I hadn’t looked at Hawk, I’d have never believed he was the one wielding that thing.

  His arm swung. The whip sliced across Steel’s huge back, cutting a violent red, bloody path. It was Hawk standing there, and except for when he struck Steel, his face gave away nothing, virtually expressionless.

  I wanted to puke.

  Again, and again, the whip came down, six times in all. By the time I made myself look at Steel again, long lines of blood dripped down his back, a canvas of crimson.

  Still without expression, Hawk crossed to the post and untied him, one arm holding him up.

  “I’m good,” Steel muttered.

  Hawk released him. “Doc.” The pain in his tone startled me. He didn’t look away from the post, his shoulders tight.

  I glanced at St
eel, who sat on the ground in front of Doc. Doc’s kit was open and he quickly began cleaning Steel’s wounds.

  “See, Petal?” His voice was throaty, yet sickly pleasant. “It’s all over.” He squeezed her hand and she sighed, kissing his knuckles. Tears dropped onto them.

  I was surprised she hadn’t fainted. My woman was stronger than I’d even thought.

  I walked toward the post, and then turned to Hawk. “You won’t come back from this.”

  Hawk’s face twitched, almost a wince. He looked as if someone had sliced him with a knife. When he spoke, his tone was hollow and empty. “So be it. I do not accept thieving in this club. Take off the cut and turn around.”

  I ripped my cut off. Oran collected it and laid it over his arm before stepping back.

  Blood raging, I whipped around on my heel.

  Hawk tied my wrists, and then secured them to the loop on the post. The position stretched my arms up and splayed my back, leaving a canvas of skin. Hawk moved my ponytail out of the way and stepped behind me.

  The first lash fell, bringing a white hot flash of pain across my shoulder and diagonally across my back, far worse than the handful of times I’d remembered being whipped as a kid. I cursed up a storm in my head, but somehow kept silent. Refusing to give Hawk any satisfaction.

  Another cracking lash. Fire blazed across my back from the other shoulder. I hissed like a wildcat. Warm blood tricked down my skin.

  Four more lashes fell, each one worse than the last. My chest heaved and my lips hurt from keeping my mouth tightly closed. Hawk grunted on the last strike, and the white hot pain that ripped across my back sent spots of light across my vision.

  Hawk was untying my hands. I thought I heard Setora crying.

  Fuck, Princess. She’d seen all of this, and realizing that, broke my heart.

  As soon as my hands were free, Hawk’s hand steadied me.

  I did not want him touching me, but if I pushed him away, I’d probably make all of this worse. The adrenaline pumping through my veins dissipated a little, my breathing finally slowing. Hawk released me. I turned to him, seriously considered punching his lights out anyway, but before I could, he squeezed my fucking nape.