The Vengeful Robin

by Erica Andrews

  Not really one for small talk after sex, I never asked Jon about his parents or what made him leave for the enchanted forest. In my mind, most of the people here didn't have happy stories. I guess I was just too afraid to ask.

  Maybe I should have asked.

  Fagen fidgeted nervously, pulling at his green tunic, the material wrapped in his tight fist. He surveyed me with his keen blue eyes, the intelligence within them clear.

  I smiled, trying to alleviate his worry. "Hello, Fagen. So, your parents are...” I cleared my throat. “Were shifters?”

  I looked back at Aman, who glanced elsewhere, refusing to help me.

  “I mean… does that mean… are you a shifter?”

  I narrowed my eyes, looking for signs that would tell me if he was a shifter. I was only just learning about them, and already I had an idea in my mind. Sadly, Fagen wasn’t what I was expecting.

  Aman laughed and slapped his good leg. "Does he look like a shifter to you, girly? Ya know, I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you tongue-tied."

  I rolled my eyes, but his joke seemed to break the tension, as Fagen gave a small laugh while blushing sweetly, making him appear younger than I had first thought. "I’m sorry, Fagen, for messing up our first meeting. I guess you took me by surprise. I was actually kind of hoping you were a shifter.” His round cheeks turned redder, jiggling slightly as he spoke.

  "No, Princess. It's true my parents were shifters. But it’s not true that everyone who has a shifter parent is a shifter. I mean, I’m not a medicine man, but I have done some research and know I’m not the only human to have shifters as parents." He was so honest, so factual that, for a second, I couldn't breathe.

  How long had shifters been living among us, having human children? What had happened when the parents and children were separated? And what broke my heart the most... How much of it had been done by my family?

  Was my entire family made up of nothing but men hiding their darkness from everyone?

  And finally, if they were monsters, what did that make me? Aman, not realizing the darkness of my thoughts, continued the introductions. Next up was the sword instructor.

  Why did he look familiar?

  "Now this bugger right here is Rafe. Mean as a snake, he is, but you said you wanted someone who would fight with you. And, well, this one has a bone to pick with King John."

  Rafe.

  He looked so familiar, and yet the name meant nothing.

  His back against the post of my bed, uncaring of the people around him, he slouched one leg over another. With his large hand, he pushed his hair back, allowing me to finally get a glimpse of his face.

  Beautiful was the first word that came to mind. With angular features and full lips, he oozed dangerous beauty. When he made a slight turn of his head, something caught my eye. Around his ear and further down.

  A scar.

  Spreading from ear to jaw, the redness glared back at me much like his eyes when he caught me staring. Heat burning in his gaze, he silently dared me to speak. To voice the questions that ran through my head. A subtle power play I was sure worked with others of the fairer sex, or submissive men. Unlucky for him, I was neither.

  "Hello, Rafe. If you don't mind me asking, what makes you hate my uncle so much?" His dark eyes bore into mine. My senses awakened. Even before being turned into an elite, I had been competitive. My gifts only enhanced what was already there, making sure I won. Like now. I stared back in a competition for dominance and in doing so, I realized something. Rafe’s name should have been Rage. Anger and hatred stared back at me, causing small legs of dread to run up and down my back.

  I would be his dominate, that was a certainty, but he would either help us succeed or destroy our only chance at getting Smite back.

  When neither of us blinked, he smiled, tilting his head up and showing off the sharpness of his jaw. "Perfect, Princess. I concede you win.” He continued to smile, the whiteness of his teeth bright against his tanned skin. “But I don’t just hate your uncle. I hate all you. Everything you stand for. Thinking you are better and can use us all like cattle when you please. Aman might have a blind eye to who you are, but I know who I choose to work with. You and your family are the reason my sister was raped and murdered.”

  His words spewed through clenched teeth as his jaw ticced in anger. He trailed his finger down the very scar I stared at earlier. “I was only fifteen, but when I tried to stop them, his soldiers, your brothers in arms,” his hand shook with built-up anger, “gave me this to remember them by.” Done, he dropped his hand, and a wicked smile danced across his face. He knew his explicit tale bothered me. And it did, it would bother anyone with a conscience, but I refused to let him see it.

  Apparently, we were still fighting for dominance.

  I nodded, keeping my face clean of emotions, and moved slowly over to the man in question. His eyes tracked my movements like a lion with his prey, only the lion hadn’t realized this prey knew how to bite back. "I guess we have more in common than I thought."

  His smile fell, giving me a glimpse of the man he’d been before he had been hurt, and my chest tightened slightly.

  My family made him this way.

  Aman cleared his throat and rapped me on the back of the leg with his cane, drawing my attention to the last man he had brought.

  The word that came to mind was stealth. Like a panther, his body seemed graceful but ready to attack. White hair cropped short, it somehow fell messily to the side to brush his ears.

  Though his body was lithe and sure, and clearly had potential, I had a feeling that it hadn’t seen combat. When he looked at me I saw innocence. Someone who, for all the potential in him, hadn’t seen much in this life.

  “Robin, this is James. And, well, he actually has an excellent reason for being here…”

  "Miss Robin, I'm just so happy to be here."

  I couldn't help the small smile that played across my lips at his naive enthusiasm. “Are you sure you want to be here... I’m sorry, James?"

  Almost toppling Aman over, he reached out, grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously. "Yes, ma’am. I mean, yes, it’s James, ma'am, and I know all about you."

  I raised my eyebrow as he continued to pump my hand. "You do?"

  He smiled and continued to hold my hand, though he did finally quit shaking it. "Oh, yes, ma’am. The princess who refused to wed, and instead joined the soldiers to fight alongside her father. And then it was the soldier who turned—" A loud cough interrupted James, cutting off his words. Red began to color his cheeks at the realization of what he had been about to say.

  His blush pulled at my heartstrings. For all his naivety, he seemed truly happy to be here. In an attempt to try to save him from the scolding I was sure Aman would give him later, I went ahead and continued his story. "I am the soldier who turned traitor to her uncle. Is that what you were going to say?"

  I leaned forward, my head close to his. His eyes widened when I whispered the rest. “Don’t worry. Apparently, I’m a traitor to everything and everyone.”

  The bitterness of my statement burned my tongue. Aman heard my whisper, and maybe even the bitterness that accompanied it. "Now, listen. Whatever your father and uncle have done, none of us hold that against you. You were young and naive. And now that you’re older, you want to right the wrongs of them both." I looked away from James, only to find everyone staring at me.

  Rafe, his dark eyes telling me he didn't agree with Aman. Maybe secretly he wanted me to fail. Meanwhile, Fagen and James nodded encouragingly.

  The tent flap rustled again, gaining all of our attention.

  I straightened my shoulders. If it was Jon, I was ready to defend myself and what we were doing. With faster maneuvers than what the guys were used to seeing, I pushed my way to the front so I was a barrier between the tent’s opening and the guys I had been entrusted to keep safe. Soldiers had already come close once—I wasn’t taking a chance with the only people willing to help me. If it was Jon, then t
he least I could do was take the brunt of his anger.

  A head popped through the opening, and the stress I hadn’t known I had slid off my shoulders.

  Claius.

  His eyes found mine, causing him to grin, while the rest of his impressive body emerged through the opening. “Are we late?"

  Before I could answer, two forms emerged from the shadows.

  It took me a second to realize what I was seeing.

  Double.

  Twins.

  Claius had brought me twins.

  "Robin, these are the brothers Cloud.” He pointed to the one closest to him. "This one right here is Mac." He pointed to the other one. “And this is Mark."

  I looked between the two, trying to find a way to tell them apart, but even their smiles were identical.

  Long red hair cascaded down their shoulders, and they had matching beards. Their shirts stretched across their brawny bodies. They were almost as large as Claius—I hadn’t even thought that was possible.

  Realizing I was staring, I walked forward, smiling warmly. Or at least I hoped it was warmly. "Well, I’m Robin, Mac and Mark. We were just about to get started.”After walking up to the round table I had set up in my room, I looked at the men that had come and realized we had a problem. "Guys, I didn't realize most of you would be so big. I don't think we are all going to fit around the table."

  Before I could come up with a solution, the twins walked past me and headed for my bed. Promptly picking a side of the bed, they rested their heads on their hands like this was an everyday occurrence. For all I knew, it probably was. The one I thought was Mac spoke up. "That's all right. We can just lie here on the bed; we don't really need to look at a map."

  The one I thought could possibly be Mark nodded at his brother's assessment. “Mac's right. Just point to us where to go. We're much better with our fists anyways. Mama always said we had hard heads."

  Watching them make themselves comfortable on my bed, I couldn't help but ask, "Guys, I'm just curious. What made you decide to come here tonight?"

  They smiled and answered together, "The fighting."

  Surprised and slightly worried about their answer, I peered at Claius for further information. For the first time ever, a blush stained his cheeks.

  It was adorable.

  "The brothers have a tendency to fight quite a bit.”

  As if he knew what I was going to say, he lifted his hand up. “But they're good at it, and when they heard they would be possibly knocking heads together, well..."

  I finished his thought, already understanding. "Then they were more than happy to come out and play?"

  Claius smiled sweetly, causing my heart to miss a beat. "Pretty much."

  What was wrong with me? Stupid heart didn't know when to make up its mind. Did I want Claius or Jon? And if I did choose one, could I actually function normally if I tried?

  Was I brave enough to try?

  Needing to not think about smiles and hearts pitter-pattering in time with someone's smiles, I dived into what I did best. Planning battle. “Okay, so just to reiterate, we have James, Aman, Fagen, Claius…” I looked at the twins. “Mark, Mac.” My smile fell. “And Rafe.”

  I blew out a breath. “Not the numbers we really need...”

  My head ached from being pulled in so many directions and my hair being braided all day. I itched to unravel it. The guys regarded me as I tugged on the braid, making my head throb more.

  Unable to think with the incessant pounding, I pulled on the leather strip holding my hair and let it fall where it may.

  Already my head was lighter. “We can make the numbers work."

  I went to the side of my bed, where I had stashed my drawing.

  The twins, not moving from their positions, watched me. A mint leaf scent drifted to me. Why did they have to smell so nice?

  And why did I have to notice?

  First Claius, now them?

  I hesitated to pick up my artwork.

  Usually, I didn't let anyone see it, but now I didn't have a choice. I drew for relaxation and, more often than not, I drew what I knew. And what I knew was the castle. Inside and out.

  Drawing in hand, I walked back to the table and unraveled the floor plans and laid them out in front of the group of men.

  Surprisingly, Rafe and Aman stood to each side of me, holding the corners of the paper.

  "Did you draw this?"

  At the softly-asked question, I looked up at the inquisitive face of James.

  Typically defensive, I wanted to make a biting remark, like I would usually use on someone like Rafe. But James’ eyes held no malice, only interest, so I answered honestly. "Yes, I did."

  He nodded and smiled sweetly. "It's really good, Robin. You're very talented."

  At his praise, heat rose to my cheeks. I wasn't used to compliments. As a soldier, and even a princess, there was always something we could improve on, and we were told so frequently.

  But pure praise… it was foreign.

  I mumbled a soft thanks as I turned back to the map. "Okay, so I think the best, least obvious way in would be the tunnels. Most of the soldiers stay clear of the tunnels as they are run down.”

  Rafe pointed to the back of the castle. "Why not here? Wouldn't they leave this less guarded as the lake is to their back?"

  I shook my head. “That will never work. King John has sailors down by the lake, and they keep a close eye on incoming ships. No, the best way would be to come in from the side where the forest starts."

  Aman scratched his beard and eyed me. "How far of a run is that between the forest and the tunnels?"

  Astute man.

  I sighed. "About one-fourth of a mile, but I know the soldiers' routines, and if we go at the right time, we should be fine."

  Claius cleared his throat. "What about when we get to the tunnels? Then what?"

  I looked at Aman and the others before turning back to Claius. "After the tunnels, we search the dungeons and other rooms for the girls."

  I pointed to the large room right below the servants’ quarters. "This is the dungeon."

  I glanced at Aman. "I'm sorry. I don't know where the shifters would be kept. They could be anywhere."

  Aman smiled. "Don't worry. I’m sure we can check for them while you search for the girls."

  "And I'll help find your friend."

  James' voice surprised me, but I was secretly happy he had offered. I didn't want anyone to go alone.

  "Okay, so we'll check rooms for shifters and then make our way to the dungeon to free Smite. The girls..." I paused, hating to say what weighed on my mind. "We might not be able to get all of them. John keeps some of them close, and I never knew where he kept them all."

  A sudden thought occurred to me. "If we can get Smite, he might know…”

  Rafe raised an eyebrow, his scar seeming to pull at the movement. “Smite's the one who rescued them before?"

  I nodded.

  "Then we’ll help find Smite.”

  Grateful we seemed to be working together well, I was about to assign everyone else jobs when one of the twins spoke up.

  Mark, or was it Mac, spoke. "We will help get Smite while you get the girls."

  I nodded. Everything was coming together. We carried on making our plans through the night, and by the time they left, I was wired with anticipation, but a certain bundle of dread curdled in my stomach at what I had to do next.

  I had to talk to Jon.

  12

  Robin

  * * *

  “You need to pull back further.”

  In an attempt to get up the nerve to talk to Jon about what the others and I had discussed last night, I decided to take Lily and Jamie out for one more nice gathering. Because, after talking to Jon, who knew if I would even still be welcome in the village?

  Though, when I said a nice day out, apparently my idea was a little different than theirs.

  “Robin, I thought you said we were going to have fun and talk.”


  Lily pouted, sitting beside me in the grass, as Jamie aimed for the post that I had set up earlier for them to practice on.

  “I thought this was fun,” I said cheekily.

  Lily overlooked my smile, and instead continued to frown at me before watching her girlfriend aim and miss again. “Good job, babe! You almost had that one!”

  Jamie mumbled as she etched another bow in the quiver, and Lily turned back to me.

  “Robin, don’t you wanna talk? Gossip? Maybe tell me about your training session with Jon, and everything that’s going on?”

  Naturally she wanted to talk about that. Everything I hated discussing, my best friend seemed to thrive on. Wiping my hand down my face, I heard Jamie curse as she let one more fly. I looked up to see it hit the ground. Jamie finally gave up, sat down beside Lily, and took her hand.

  They were sweet.

  And I was jealous.

  Both of them sat watching me with worried expressions. These were my friends, and if I couldn’t trust them, who could I trust? I needed someone I could tell everything to, and it was these two girls in front of me.

  So, I told them. “I'm going to rescue Smite.”

  Lily giggled, confusing me. She slapped me half-heartedly on the leg and continued to giggle.

  I glanced at Jamie for help, but she shrugged before turning her attention back to Lily.

  Out of breath, Lily calmed down and smiled. When she noticed neither of us were smiling, she rolled her eyes, huffed, then explained. “Of course you're going to rescue Smite. I’m surprised you waited this long.” She turned away from Jamie, blocking her out, before leaning forward to whisper, “So when are we going?”

  I should have known she wanted to go.

  Lily’s attempt at being quiet pulled a smile from me, but she and I both knew she wouldn’t be coming along. She might be my best friend, which meant I would do anything for her, but the one thing I wouldn’t do was put her in harm's way.

  I glanced toward Jamie, who rolled her eyes, then looked back at Lily. Her smile had fallen, already anticipating what I was going to say.