The Redemption Saga Box Set

by Kristen Banet

  “The longsword,” he began, “belonged to everyone’s least favorite serial killer, Logan Harris. The IMPO didn’t know what to do with it, and since we were the team that caught him, I took it for my own collection.”

  She swallowed and nodded. Logan Harris was served the death penalty last year. He had been the murderer of nearly ten Magi children and their mothers. He never killed the father, and he never told anyone why, even on his last day. He had magnetic manipulation, his only power, which helped him strike true with every swing. That sword was probably the one he used to cut up their bodies.

  This was with the team that had caught him. That was impressive. They had stopping him from killing a five-year-old girl and her mother.

  “The katana was in the property of Layla Doe.” He pointed to it next, and she looked it over. She could still feel the rage of the Magi who used it regularly. “The one who-”

  “Yeah, I know about Layla Doe,” Sawyer whispered, cutting him off from finishing. Layla Doe’s crimes didn’t need repeating. She laid her eyes on the last dagger, and cold ran through her veins. No matter where she went, she was realizing, the world had a reminder for her, waiting to pounce.

  “And that dagger is the only weapon on the planet that had been tied to Shadow.” He picked it up and testing its weight on a finger, letting it balance precariously. “Suited her, really. All black steel, black pommel and hilt. Even black leather wrapping the hilt. Not a trace of her magic on it though. It’s obvious she cleansed her weapons regularly, and there’s no craftsman’s mark on it so tracing it back to its maker is impossible.”

  “How did you get it?” she asked softly, watching her blade as he set it back down. She lost several them over the years when she was active, but none had ever been linked to her like he so confidently just did. That must have been the only one she lost on an assassination, though, since the others were just misplaced around the world. Nearly half of her collection was still in Axel’s possession, for example.

  “The Paris murder,” he told her pleasantly. “We were training with a team in Germany when it happened. We were offered the chance to look over the scene, and I found the blade. It didn’t amount to anything, and once we were given free rein on the Axel investigation, the IMPO placed it in my care, knowing I liked to keep my hands on these types of things.”

  “A little morbid, isn’t it?” She raised an eyebrow at him, forcing herself to look away from the dagger. “You know what these weapons have done.”

  “Not to me.” He waved a hand at all the weapons around them. “Everything here is meant to kill, to end a life, in war or self-defense, it doesn’t matter. These weapons were just used by people who were very good at what they did. They were used for their purpose, even if those purposes were with evil intention.”

  “Can’t fault you there.” She sighed as he put the treasures of his collection away.

  “Ready to get started?” He pointed to the selection he had out. “Pick one or two. I want to see what you can do. We won’t be sparring until Zander can shield us, and I’m confident you won’t slice your own fingers off.”

  She took two short swords and twirled them in her hands. They felt good. She didn’t want to take a dagger, which she was much more proficient with, because she felt too exposed. Seeing her own weapon like that, in the hands of Elijah, had freaked her out.

  It was a solid training session. Elijah knew the fighting style of every weapon he crafted, as if he was born with the knowledge. She had problems with her form, so he stopped her and corrected her. She was used to dirty fights: quick, fast, and going for the kill or incapacitation. This was different. He wanted her to really nail the technique, so she could avoid mistakes with and without her magic. With her abilities, technique normally got thrown out the window, but without them, it was necessary.

  They were sweating and panting at the end of the session, and he grinned at her as he patted her back roughly.

  “We’ll make a real fighter out of you yet,” he laughed as he put away the weapons.

  “Look here, cowboy, I am a real fighter.” She shoved him away playfully. “You’ve seen me in the ring.” She tossed her arms out, cocky and having a good time. He took a playful swing at her, and they were off.

  For his six-foot, five-inch, massive build, he was fast. She spent the entire session getting used to his speed, but dodging his quick strikes was still difficult. They were pulling their punches, but when he nailed her in the ribs, she knew it would bruise. She got him once in the gut right after, hooking his head with one of her arms.

  In the end, they were just shoving at each other like fools. It was easy to hang out with the cowboy. He was easy-going, and, once they were training, the pickup lines and compliments ended for something more relaxed and friendly. It was also easy to let her guard down and talk to him. She should have noticed that in the bar. His smile was infectious.

  “Alright, you got skills, don’t hurt me,” he laughed hysterically. “Damn, woman. I never thought it would be hot to get the shit kicked out of me.”

  “Men are gluttons for punishment, hot stuff.” She was laughing as well, and he grabbed her, pulling her closer while she was distracted. She found herself against his chest and her internal body temperature sky-rocketed.

  “You think I’m hot, huh?” he asked playfully.

  “You and every other guy here.” She rolled her eyes, pulling away from him. “You’re nothing special with all the competition around.”

  “True,” he chuckled. “I do live with prime examples of good looking men.”

  “What is that I’m hearing?” She held a hand up to her ear. “You aren’t jealous that I get all this eye candy and you only get me?”

  “I get the exact same amount of eye candy as you do.” He pointed a finger at her and then pointed it up and down her body, his eyes following. “You’re just the only woman I now get to stare at, day in and day out. For which, I am very thankful.”

  “What?” She tilted her head to the side, and wondered where he was going with this.

  “I’m bi.” He threw an arm over her shoulder and forced her to walk out the door with him. He locked up the building without releasing her. “And yeah, the entire team knows.”

  “Well, this must be heaven for you.” She shook her head, a smile toying on her lips.

  “Well,” he leaned down close to her ear, “I think we could make some heaven together if you want to try.”

  “You already know that answer.” She rolled her eyes, letting him be a seductive flirt. She enjoyed it, even though she was still a bit peeved that he had captured her with it.

  “I would love a reminder.” He pulled her even closer and stepped in front of her, giving her a naughty grin. “Even though Vincent told me not to try.”

  “I’m suddenly very thankful for Vincent,” she laughed, pushing him away. “You always like this?”

  “Yes, but not because I want to sleep with everyone.” He shook his head, still grinning. “I like sex, like every other guy in that house. But, I like to play around and have a good time, because that’s how I show my affection for people. Let me know if I make you uncomfortable.”

  “I’m feeling a lot of things.” She kept chuckling, shaking her head. “But none of them are uncomfortable right now, though.”

  “I’m happy to hear that.” Elijah threw his arm back over her shoulder. “Even if you won’t ease my seemingly-endless suffering and sleep with me one day, I would like you as a friend, Sawyer. I don’t want you thinking that everybody here just wants to use you for something. Jasper and Zander don’t need to be your only allies here.”

  “That means a lot to me.” Her throat was suddenly thick with emotion. They walked in silence for a long time until she needed to ask. “Why? You’ve known me for only three and a half days.”

  “Because I know another lost soul when I see one,” he said quietly, “like the rest of this team.”

  She wanted to say that Jasper and Zander had ne
ver been lost souls, but she would have been lying. That’s what had made the three of them friends when they were younger. Jasper’s parents passed away when he was eight, and he had nowhere else to go except the orphanage. Zander’s mother gave him up at six, leaving with nothing except a life of thinking his mother didn’t love him. She had never had a family at all, completely raised in the orphanage.

  “Jasper said everyone here was a misfit,” she whispered.

  “We are.” He nodded. “And I think, even with all the darkness in your eyes and the horrors you think will happen, you belong here. You like protecting people and saving them. You like sticking up a middle finger at the system; and, while it might not seem like it, we do, too. Yeah… Give it time and you’ll fit right in. Just give us a chance.”

  “I’m worried you’ll all get killed,” she admitted to him. “I’m worried that helping you go after Axel will get Zander and Jasper killed and that…” She shook her head, wondering why she felt the need to make that admission to this open, playful cowboy.

  “You trust us to stay alive.” He pulled her to him as they walked so that she was pressed into his side completely. “We know what we’re doing. Vincent knows what he’s doing, but I’ll tell him to back off you a little. I don’t want him completely scaring you off.”

  “Thanks,” she huffed. “He’s pushy.”

  “Yeah,” Elijah chuckled softly. “I’m his second in command, so if he’ll listen to anyone, it’s me.”

  They were nearly at the house when he let her go.

  “Think about what I said, Sawyer.” He smiled at her. “We’re just trying to keep you safe and take down the bad guy, just like you did for those kids.”

  She nodded and let him go inside without her. It was nearly three in the afternoon, and they hadn’t said she needed to do anything after Elijah’s training. The day had given her a lot to think about—a lot to consider about her future and being there.

  She quietly went to her room. She took a shower after she got some clean clothes ready, then took a small nap. She missed the fact that her box of photos had been moved.

  16

  SAWYER

  Sawyer wrapped her hands slowly as all the guys watched her prepare for hand-to-hand training. They were all waiting on her, but she had a ritual that she wasn’t going to change for them.

  “Any day, little lady,” Elijah called out, laughing.

  She rolled her eyes and finished the last go around her left hand. She stood up and bounced on her feet as she looked over to him.

  “Don’t rush me unless you are really excited to get beat on.” She grinned.

  Day two of training was hand-to-hand and martial arts. That was it. She looked to Zander and nodded, remembering their conversation from Sunday.

  “You ready?” she taunted.

  “Whenever you are.” Zander grinned. “Unless you want to paint your nails first. I can wait.”

  “Asshole,” she laughed. “Tell me, who had pink toenails for half of his junior year?”

  “Casey did that,” Zander growled, “and you promised never to bring that shit up again after she and I broke up.”

  “I forgot that she did that,” Jasper chuckled softly.

  “What amazing teenage Zander story are we missing?” Elijah asked, grinning between them. “Someone, please enlighten me.”

  “Casey Morgan,” Sawyer chuckled, “was Zander’s girlfriend for six months while we were in high school. She liked to practice her pedis on him. He wouldn’t go barefoot for their entire relationship. Jasper and I caught on really quick that something was up. Took us like, a week, to catch him sleeping and get his socks off before he woke up. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard.”

  After giving them that bit of information, even Vincent was chuckling. Quinn looked a little confused, but not angry, so she thought she must have been doing something right.

  She had done a lot of thinking through the night. She would train and eventually help them, even if it was only so she could keep them from getting themselves killed. She might even try to be a friend, though that one was still up in the air.

  If they pressed her too hard for the secrets she hid in the shadows, they would learn a new meaning to ‘cold shoulder’. She had a mental check list of what they could and couldn’t know. They could know the generalities—like she had a bad relationship, which was the source of most of her scars, but they couldn’t know who that ex was. They could know that the ex-boyfriend taught her how to thieve and some fighting, but they couldn’t know exactly why. It was the best she could think of. Give them enough information for them to understand and feel like she was opening up, but not enough that they could connect the dots.

  She knew that giving them even those half-truths would make her feel a little better. That was an appealing thought in and of itself.

  “What’s a pedi?” Quinn asked, looking around the group.

  “A pedicure. When women do shit like paint their toenails. A manicure is for their fingernails,” Elijah whispered to him. “Well, some men do it too, but it’s considered really feminine so it’s embarrassing to Zander that he let a woman do it to him.”

  “Thank you.” Quinn nodded to Elijah and looked at her. “Do you get… pedicures or manicures?”

  “No,” Sawyer laughed. “Manis and pedis are not my thing. I barely do my hair.”

  “Ah.” Quinn continued to nod, rubbing the scruff on his jaw. “So it’s not a mandatory ritual. What’s the purpose of it?”

  “To look better?” Sawyer shrugged. How had Quinn never heard of manicures or pedicures? Seriously? She wished she knew his story, she really did. Seeing him get all curious was probably the least scary thing she had ever witnessed. It was actually really cute.

  “Alright,” Zander coughed, and she grinned at how red he was. She was going to get Cranky Zander for training. “Let’s just get to fucking training. Fuck.”

  “Aw, poor Zander. Don’t want Sawyer trotting out embarrassing stories?” Elijah laughed, holding his sides as he bent over, howling.

  “Fuck you.” Zander glared at him and then turned to her. She held her arms open, basically saying ‘Come at me, bro’ to him. “You are so eating mat.”

  “Try me, bitch.” She bounced around, excitement making her heart race. She loved this kind of banter before fighting. It was playful and easy, showing all the fighters involved that friendships weren't hurt outside the ring by what happened in it.

  “I’ll show you-” Zander pointed at her.

  “Both of you,” Vincent was still chuckling, “let’s just get through this, please.”

  “Sawyer, get over here.” Zander pointed to the mat in front of him, glaring. She sauntered over but stayed nearly five feet from him. She wasn’t stupid enough to get in arm’s reach. “Jasper, call time?”

  “Can do.” Jasper pulled out his phone and looked down at it. “Ten minutes. Go.”

  Shields formed around her and Zander, and she could recognize the feel of his magic. They weren’t the strongest shields, but they would keep bones from breaking. She stayed relaxed as Zander carefully moved towards her.

  The moment she was in his range, he swung out a high, test kick toward her head, and she rolled away. Fighting a trained martial artist was a different beast than fighting a boxer. She had more practice with boxers, but she always knew her most dangerous opponents were the MMA nuts who could do more than a bit of everything.

  “Running scared, Sawyer?” Zander taunted, grinning at her. She stayed silent and just watched him and how he moved. He favored his right side, and, if he didn’t realize it, she could exploit his left. He was heavy on his feet, lacking some of the bounce required to give a fighter the fastest reaction time possible.

  He was pretending. There was no way Zander thought he could beat her fighting like he was, which meant he was fucking with her. Well, she was going to need to fix that real quick. She wasn’t going to be toyed with. She was really annoyed with him now.

 
; He entered her reach again, and she grabbed his kick this time as it made contact. She watched his eyes go wide at how she took the kick to her ribs without a complaint. She twisted his ankle and watched him fall as he winced in pain. She kicked with her right foot, connecting to the left side of his head. She didn’t hit hard, but the point was made.

  “Don’t be a show-off,” she told him blandly.

  “Fuck,” Elijah mumbled. “What was that? A minute?”

  “Yeah,” Jasper whispered back to him.

  She let go of Zander’s leg and held a hand out to him. He took it slowly and stood up.

  “Also, don’t go easy on me,” she growled, pulling him close to say it quietly to him. “I don’t fucking need it or appreciate it.” She pushed him away with a glare and noticed that being caught embarrassed him further. And Zander hated being embarrassed.

  “Time,” he snapped to Jasper.

  “Nine minutes left. Go,” Jasper called.

  Zander didn’t approach her slowly this time, and she had to move quickly to stay out of his reach. He had longer limbs than her, so she was going to need to get in behind him to avoid getting grabbed, punched, or kicked. The problem was, he was quicker than lightning this round.

  She barely dodged a kick that flew toward her head, feeling the air get cut by it when she dropped down. Without a moment’s rest, Zander sent a second kick with his left leg, lower to hit her ribs.

  She grunted at the impact, realizing that playing the evasive game just wasn’t going to work. She let him step closer to her and rolled in as he took another kick. He had long, strong legs, and she realized that was his weakness. He loved to kick, knowing he could do the most damage with that.

  She came up right in his face and did something she had learned from judo. She grabbed his shirt with her right hand, pulling him down to force his body weight on his left leg, and positioned her right leg between his. She swung the leg behind his left, making his knee buckle and then dropped him to the floor on his back.