Dark Warrior's Legacy

by I. T. Lucas

  “Okay, I’m impressed, who’s next?”

  “I go.” Renata jumped and caught the rope, climbing just as expertly as Lana had.

  Sonia went next, then Kristina, and the last was Marta.

  The women must’ve had military training. No mud-wrestlers learned to climb rope like that. For the first time, doubt drifted through Anandur’s mind, and he questioned the whole mud-wrestling tale.

  They should’ve checked the Russians’ story. He couldn’t believe no one had thought to do so. Except, what reason could the women have to lie? It wasn’t as if the profession of mud-wrestling prostitution was such an honor badge.

  “We should check the closet,” Geneva said as the helicopter took off.

  “I did,” Onegus said.

  “Did you check behind the fake panels?”

  “No. But don’t you need to close them from the outside?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know if he is hiding in there, and if he is how he managed to close the panels from the inside. But if it were me, I would’ve used the best hiding place on this ship. Don’t forget that he thinks the crew is loyal to him and will not rat him out. Unless someone knows there is a hidden compartment behind the false wall, no one would think to check there.”

  Good point.

  Onegus turned on his heel and headed for the stairs, with Geneva following close behind him.

  Anandur caught her arm to get her attention. “We go in there together, but if I tell you to get out, you don’t wait even a split second to do so. The thing we fear the most is Alex grabbing a hostage. If he is in there, Onegus and I can handle him, but I don’t want you to become collateral damage. Understood?”

  She nodded.

  “I want to hear you say it, and for the love of your God, don’t try to be a hero.”

  She cast him a quizzical glance. “I’ll get out of the way. You have my word.”

  “Good.” He clapped her on the shoulder.

  The ridiculously large walk in closet housed the equivalent of a clothing store, and none of the items were from Wal-Mart like Anandur’s. He wasn’t familiar with the cost of men’s high fashion but estimated that tens of thousands of dollars had been spent on this wardrobe. Maybe even more. Such a waste.

  He pointed Geneva to a safe corner, far from the entry door, where no one could grab her from behind without going through Onegus and him first. Then the two of them pushed the clothing aside to clear a wide section of the back wall.

  Alex’s scent was all over the place, but it didn’t mean he was on the other side of these panels. The scent lingered on his clothes, even the laundered and dry-cleaned stuff.

  Examining the seams between the panels, they didn’t find any that looked uneven or warped. Maybe Alex had used one of the panels closer to the side walls, not the center ones.

  With that in mind, Anandur pushed the clothes back to the middle and away from one side, but these panels also looked undisturbed. Maybe they should stop pussyfooting and just pry them out and see whether he was there or not.

  Onegus started clearing the other side, when Anandur heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. He leaped at Onegus to get him out of the way, but he was a split second too late. The bullet tore through the fabric paneling and into Onegus’s chest.

  As the commander hit the floor, Anandur shouted to Geneva, “Get down!” and dropped over Onegus to shield his body from the volley of bullets that followed, spraying the closet. Some went into the walls; others ricocheted off the harder surfaces.

  A moment later the fake wall exploded, and Alex leaped out, holding a gun in each hand and shooting straight ahead to clear the way. In another split second, he would realize that his targets were down on the floor and then it was game over.

  Anandur did the only thing he could to turn the barrels away from Geneva, he grabbed Alex’s legs and pulled, toppling the scumbag to the ground. What he hadn’t expected was the guy’s quick reflexes.

  Alex turned mid-air, landing on his ass instead of his face, and pointed the gun at Anandur’s head with an evil smirk and a glint in his beady eyes.

  Damn, it was going to hurt. But if Anandur moved out of the way, the scumbag was going to shoot Onegus.

  Alex must’ve realized Anandur’s dilemma, taking a second to gloat before pulling the trigger. That second was his downfall.

  A shot that was louder than all of those that had come before it was fired from behind, hitting Alex in the back of his skull. He dropped, his head hitting the floor.

  Geneva lowered her gun and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry I killed him, but it was either him or you.”

  “Thank you for saving my ass, but he is not dead. Yet.”

  He should probably thrall her now.

  She frowned and walked closer, placing two fingers where Alex’s pulse was supposed to be. “He is dead. What about your friend?” Voice calm, Geneva was all business. Who was she? What was she? No civilian would act that casually after killing a man.

  “Not dead. Just injured.”

  To prove him right, Onegus groaned and turned on his back, clutching his chest. “Son of a bitch, that hurts.”

  “He needs a doctor. Call the helicopter back.”

  Fuck, he needed to think fast. Amanda had said the Russians were so guarded that they were difficult to thrall unless they were drunk. Anandur had trouble thralling even a willing subject, let alone a resistant one.

  Onegus could probably handle her, but he was in no shape to do anything other than lie on his back and moan in pain until his body repaired the damage, which would take another ten minutes or so. Alex’s head injury would take longer, but Anandur still needed to cuff him as soon as possible, and it would be damn hard to explain why he was putting handcuffs on a dead man.

  “Geneva, there are things you don’t understand, and I can’t explain. What I need you to do is go up and change course to bring this boat back to Acapulco.”

  “What about them?”

  “Leave them to me. I know what I’m doing.”

  Geneva pinned him with a hard stare then shrugged. “No problem. I don’t need to know.” She turned around and walked out of the closet. “The less I know, the better,” he heard her murmur as she left the cabin.

  Definitely ex-military. Or maybe the KGB?

  Anandur pulled a pair of reinforced handcuffs from one of the many compartments in his waterproof equipment belt and cuffed Alex’s hands behind his back. He grimaced as he checked the injury. It was a nasty one, shredding part of the skull and doing a number on the inside, but the bullet had already been pushed out which meant healing was progressing well.

  Onegus sat up and caught the bullet as it fell out of his chest, then put it in his belt. “A souvenir.” Holding a hand over his injury, he pushed up to his feet and headed for the bathroom. “I’m going to wash up. Can you find me something to wear?” He waved a hand at the racks upon racks of clothing.

  “Sure, any preferences? Italian couture, French?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  After securing Alex’s ankles with another pair of handcuffs, Anandur pulled a couple of T-shirts, jeans for Onegus and pajama bottoms for himself and joined the chief Guardian in the bathroom.

  The guy had done the smart thing, taking a quick shower and washing off not only the blood from his chest but the ocean water as well. Anandur handed Onegus the clothes and jumped in the shower for a quick wash down of his own.

  It felt good to pull on clothes over a clean body.

  Grabbing several washcloths, he dipped them in warm water, then went back to the closet where he’d left Alex and cleaned the guy as best as he could.

  Onegus shook his head. “This scumbag doesn’t deserve it.”

  “I know. I’m not doing it for him. I don’t want Geneva and the others to see it. I still need to convince the astute captain that her shot wasn’t fatal.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of her and the others.”
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  “Good luck. You heard Amanda; the super-suspicious Russians are resistant to thralling.”

  Onegus flashed him one of his charming smiles. “You really think any female can resist this?” He pointed at his pretty-boy face.

  Chapter 42: Kian

  “How did it go?” Syssi asked Kian when he returned from collecting the crew’s testimony.

  The boat’s crew, together with the two Guardians and the accused, had flown to Los Angeles the morning following Alex’s capture. Kian had the women stay together in an apartment a few miles away from the keep. The building belonged to the clan, but it was only a rental asset owned by a subsidiary; no direct connection to the clan.

  Taking Syssi by the hand, he led her to the couch and pulled her onto his lap. “Now everything is great.” He nuzzled her neck. “I love coming home to you.”

  She smiled. “You’re funny. You work from home and hardly ever leave the keep. It’s me that comes home to you.”

  “Semantics.” He kissed her softly, hoping she’d drop the subject and continue to more pleasant topics—the kind that didn’t involve talking.

  But his Syssi wasn’t going to let it go until he told her everything she wanted to know. Better get it out of the way.

  “So what did they say? Do you have what you need for the trial?” she probed again.

  “We already have more than enough to convict Alex ten times over, but I’ve taken Edna with me to run a light probe on them.”

  She frowned. “Why? Did you think they would lie?”

  “No, but Anandur got a little suspicious. He said that they didn’t act like civilians during the mission. Too cool-headed and disciplined. At some point, they must’ve had military training.”

  “So?”

  Kian rubbed a hand over his jaw. “They never mentioned it. Why tell Amanda about the mud-wrestling and the prostitution but not about military service?”

  “Do you think they might be spies?”

  “No, it doesn’t add up, and Edna confirmed that other than their part in Alex’s trade, she sensed no guilt in them. It seems that they are telling the truth about wanting a new life as legal aliens doing legal work. They might be deserters from the Russian army. That would be a better explanation than the mud-wrestling story.”

  Perhaps he was paranoid, but Kian was contemplating having Andrew ask the Russians a few questions. Just to make sure.

  “You’re right. Does it matter?”

  “To us? No.”

  “Didn’t they want citizenships, though?”

  “They were happy enough with the alien status, and it sure as hell wasn’t easy to pull off either.”

  The truth was that their testimony was superfluous at this point. Enough incriminating evidence had been collected by Turner’s team, who’d questioned the four girls and the lowlifes who’d purchased them. But a deal was a deal, and Kian wanted to give the Russians what had been promised without them feeling like they hadn’t earned it.

  “When are they leaving for Hawaii?” Syssi asked.

  “Tomorrow. Anandur is escorting them.”

  “I wish we could go,” she said with a wistful look on her face.

  Kian smoothed his palm over his wife’s long hair, hating that he couldn’t give her everything she wanted. He wouldn’t have minded a tropical getaway with his beautiful Syssi, away from the keep and the clan and the responsibility that came with his job. But someone had to do it, and that someone was unfortunately him. Or fortunately, depending on who you asked. “We are going to Scotland soon. It’s a mini vacation.”

  Syssi scrunched her nose. “I would love to see Scotland, but three days, including travel time and a wedding, is not enough to do any sightseeing. We’ll probably never leave the castle grounds. But I’m excited about exploring it. Amanda says it’s beautiful.”

  The truth was that he hadn’t visited the Scottish keep in so many years he would probably have trouble recognizing it. Sari had been renovating the place extensively, one section at a time—specifically the windows and doors, plumbing and electrical systems, the bathrooms, and of course top of the line security measures.

  “We will go to Hawaii some other time when things are less hectic here.”

  Syssi’s face twisted in a grimace, but it only made her look cuter. “As if that is ever going to happen. If it does, we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves.”

  True. And how pathetic was that?

  “It is what it is, love. Nothing I can do about it. Besides, you’re busy too, especially now with Amanda gone.”

  Syssi sighed and rested her cheek on his chest. “I can’t wait for her to get back to the lab. She makes running it look so effortless while it’s nothing but.”

  He rubbed her back. “If you need help, don’t be shy and ask for it. Hannah is a capable girl. I’m sure she can ease your load.”

  “Not really. It’s the juggling of university research and our own for the clan. And now we have William’s game to integrate as well.”

  “Can I do anything to help?”

  She lifted her head and kissed his lips. “That’s so sweet of you to offer, but you’d be just as lost as I am. Amanda has been doing it for such long time now that she doesn’t need to stop and think before tackling every little issue.”

  Proud of his baby sister, Kian nodded. He knew she was a gifted teacher, but it was good to hear that she was also a great manager.

  As Syssi cupped his cheek, running her thumb over his lips, Kian took it as a sign that the time for talking was over and pushed to his feet with Syssi in his arms.

  “Are you sure I need to be present at the trial tomorrow?” she asked as he carried her to the bedroom.

  He could understand her reluctance to participate. It would be difficult to hear the testimony and even more difficult to vote on the sentence, but he was going to ask for the most severe one they had, entombment, and a unanimous vote was needed. Local clan members would be present physically, and those abroad would vote virtually.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but there is no way around it.”

  She pouted. “Can’t you give me special dispensation? Aren’t you the boss?”

  So now he was the boss, funny.

  Outside of the bedroom, he found himself saying ‘yes, dear’ more often than not, which was fine by him. Whatever made his Syssi happy, he was more than glad to oblige. She loved submitting to him sexually, but she also loved that he never argued with her over anything. What she wanted, however she wanted it, she got it.

  As long as it was up to him, it was hers.

  There had been only one point of disagreement between them about what she’d considered extravagant gifts, but they had worked out a compromise. The next super-expensive piece of jewelry he’d buy her would be on their fifth wedding anniversary. In the meantime, she wanted gifts that were more about the heart than the wallet.

  Problem was, he had no idea what she’d meant by that. Hopefully, not love poems or other crap like that because then he was screwed. Spending money was so much easier than coming up with ideas.

  Chapter 43: Anandur

  “It’s beautiful here.” Lana threaded her arm through Anandur’s as they strolled along the beach.

  “Yes, it is.” He hoped she wasn’t attaching any romantic meaning to it. He’d merely wanted to say goodbye properly, not rekindle what had never been between them. He liked her, the sex had been awesome, but that was it.

  He glanced at Amanda and Dalhu who were strolling a little ahead of Lana and him, leading the procession of those who wanted to see the sunset—which was everyone except Geneva.

  They had their arms wrapped around each other, her hand lovingly stroking his back. Anandur couldn’t help but compare their relationship to that of Kian and Syssi, or that of Andrew and Nathalie. The two other couples were so in love that the air between them sizzled, melting into rainbow-colored goo, not to mention their crazy rush to get married.

  Not these two.

  On th
e surface, both appeared more reserved, their expressions of love more subtle—like this little backrub Amanda was giving Dalhu. But whoever had been privy to what they had gone through to be together knew that only true love could’ve motivated two people to go to such extremes.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Lana nudged him.

  Considering that he was saying goodbye, he couldn’t share his musings with her. Bringing up the subject of love was a bad idea. “I’m glad you like it here, and that you and your friends are getting along with the other trainees in the program.”

  It had been Amanda’s idea to include the crew in the training the other women were going through in preparation for their jobs at the hotel. He’d thought she’d lost her mind and had told her as much. It was like putting an ex-rapist, even a reformed one, together with rape victims.

  She’d dismissed his concerns.

  The other women had been thralled to forget what had happened to them, and the Russians were too ashamed of their part in Alex’s trade to ever bring it up. Just to make sure, though, he’d warned them against ever talking about it with anyone, reminding them that they could still go to jail for their part in the crime.

  Lana and the others had sworn to take it to their graves.

  Hopefully, that wouldn’t be anytime soon. They had a new lease on life, and he wished them success in achieving their dreams.

  “I hope you’ll be happy here. Find a nice guy, start a family,” he said, and then glanced at her almost fearfully, not wanting to see her hurt.

  She nodded, looking thoughtful but not sad. “God willing. I always wanted children.”

  “Oh, yeah? How many?”

  She pretended to think about it, looking up to the sky and holding a finger against her lips. “At least ten, maybe twelve.”

  “Seriously?”

  She laughed. “No, but four is good.”

  “You know, raising good kids is not easy. Some grow up rotten despite your best efforts.”

  Like Alex.

  His mother was a good person, and what he’d done had broken her heart. It had been difficult to watch her on the monitors, as she’d cast her vote. She’d looked so defeated, so devastated, crying inconsolably when he’d been taken to the catacombs.