The Redemption Saga Box Set

by Kristen Banet

  “We’re Team Ares and Team Mars, IMAS Spec Ops. When no one called in three days ago, we were asked to come out and find out what happened. We found your vehicles yesterday.” A soldier in all black, with black paint over his face, walked through the ones with the weapons raised. He waved, and the weapons went down; the Spec Ops soldiers relaxed. “I’m Master Sergeant Lewis. We’ll get you out of here.”

  Elijah went limp and Jasper cursed as the massive cowboy nearly took them both down.

  It happened in a blur. Some of the new soldiers grabbed Elijah away from him. Others took the rest of the wounded. Zander and Doc talked loudly to the Spec Ops healers, explaining the different injuries, who needed what help.

  They were loaded up. Jasper was nearly thrown in next to Vincent in a Humvee. Kaar swooped in and joined them. Jasper was exceedingly happy to see the bird alive. He hadn’t seen the raven in days.

  “Wait!” Vincent called out, grabbing a soldier before he could leave them there to drive away.

  “What?”

  “I have two agents still out there. They were alive last we saw them. Quinn Judge and Sawyer Matthews. My raven was on the lookout for them but never saw anything, and I’m not willing to leave him here with you.”

  “I know the names. We…we were asked to report on the status of both of them specifically if we found you all. Team Mars is going to get you to the closest hospital. I’m on Team Ares. We’re going to go in and find any other survivors and report the dead, maybe even handle the Druid if she hasn’t been.”

  “It took us three days of non-stop hiking to get back here,” Jasper added. “Seven days to get out there originally.”

  “Roger that,” the Spec Ops soldier replied.

  “God speed,” Vincent whispered.

  “You as well.”

  The door was slammed shut. Jasper’s eyes were heavy. He leaned back and slid onto Vincent’s shoulder.

  “We’re getting these men home safe,” Vincent told him.

  “Sawyer and Quinn are out there,” he choked out, the exhaustion and despair reclaiming him. Tears filled his eyes. He didn’t have the energy to cry, though. They just fell down his cheeks. He wasn’t the only one. He knew everyone in the Humvee was crying or passing out.

  Hell. Bodies hanging from trees. Others carelessly scattered over the earth. The world itself had tried to kill them.

  “I’m going to have nightmares,” Jasper whispered.

  “Me too,” Vincent answered. “We should sleep. I’m sure their healers are working on Elijah, and I have no idea where the closest hospital is.”

  “Sleep sounds good,” he mumbled, nearly unable to get the words out. Vincent stretched an arm over his shoulder. All around the Humvee, soldiers they had gone on this hell-mission with were curling together, trying to find some solace that they were getting out.

  “Did you know that Spec Ops teams are all named after gods of war?” he mumbled, so exhausted, but desperate to stay awake for some reason.

  “Yes,” Vincent whispered. “Sleep, my friend. Just get to sleep. We can’t do anything now.”

  As Jasper and Vincent fell asleep, he knew they were both thinking about their family still out in the wilds.

  26

  Elijah

  Machines beeped. Elijah hated them. Healers hovered over him. He hated them too.

  He would keep his leg. Zander and Doc’s work on the walk back to the village had seen to that. The antivenom and the healers at the hospital did the rest. It wasn’t perfect. He knew he had a golf ball-sized hole in his left calf, where Zander had forced the venom to stay. It had killed all the flesh there, all the tissue.

  He didn’t care. He could have been an amputee like Jasper. He would have been fine with it.

  “Elijah, talk to me,” Vincent begged.

  “Go to hell,” Elijah growled, tired of his friend bothering him.

  Vincent walked out of the room and didn’t come back.

  He didn’t care. Vincent and Zander had made a decision he hated them for. They left Sawyer and Quinn out there. For what? To save his fucking leg? His friends could all rot. If Sawyer and Quinn didn’t come out of that fucking rainforest, he was quitting the team and disappearing. He was never going to speak to them again.

  Hours later, Vincent was back with Zander and Jasper.

  Elijah glared at them but didn’t speak.

  “Elijah, only another day or so and then we can ship you home to recuperate,” Zander told him, pulling up the charts at the end of his bed.

  Elijah ignored him. Twenty-four hours in the hospital, and he was plotting.

  He wasn’t leaving this fucking country until he found them or their bodies. God have mercy on their souls if he found bodies. He would kill Vincent if those two had died because of them. He would kill all three of them.

  “Elijah,” Vincent tried again.

  “Go. To. Hell,” Elijah snarled.

  “You need-”

  “You left them to die!” he roared.

  Something hit him hard across the face, as something else hit him in the chest hard enough to force air from his lungs.

  “Fuck, Kaar. You can’t fucking do that,” Vincent snapped, grabbing his raven roughly and lifting it off Elijah’s chest. “Sorry. He clipped you with his wing while landing.”

  Elijah glared at the bird. Damn thing was actually why Elijah couldn’t kill Vincent. Quinn wouldn’t want Kaar to suffer for the human he was bonded to.

  Fucking shit. He could kill Zander and Jasper, then.

  “Sawyer and Quinn would have wanted it,” Zander reminded him.

  “I don’t fucking care,” Elijah angrily spat out at the healer. “I don’t give a shit. Of all the damn people who should be on my goddamned side. You really proved your love for her this time.” Elijah ended that on a snarl.

  “Don’t.” Vincent ordered before Zander could retort. “Quinn would have my hide if I let you die. Sawyer would have Zander’s head if he let those soldiers die. She would hate you for hurting yourself. Quinn would just think you’re a goddamned idiot, because you are right now.” Vincent released Kaar, and the raven landed on Elijah’s chest again. “Kaar thinks they are fine. I’m going to let him beat on you until you get your head out of your ass.”

  “Fuck you and your bird,” Elijah growled, pulling his head back to dodge a wing reaching out to whack him again. The raven jumped on his chest, making Elijah groan.

  Zander and Jasper left, both angry at him, leaving Vincent to watch his raven harass Elijah.

  “Elijah, we need to talk,” Vincent told him sadly, after twenty minutes of Elijah trying to push the asshole raven away.

  “We left them to die,” he growled. “We left them out there in hell. We did that. If they don’t come back, it’s on us, and I…”

  “You think you’re the only one who is hurting?” Vincent asked, exasperated. “Elijah, we’ve been friends for years. Years. You know I do nothing lightly. And them? Quinn is the most genuine person I’ve ever known. He might not know how to handle his emotions, but he’s always honest with them. And her…Sawyer is…”

  “Everything,” Elijah whispered.

  “Yeah,” Vincent agreed softly.

  “I never got the chance to tell her,” he admitted. “I’ve been holding off. She has so much going on, and Quinn is so madly in love with her and doesn’t realize it, and I want him to be happy. I wanted to stay back until they figured it out. We’re in a weird fucking situation. We could have never known she would be…everything.”

  “She has no idea how you feel?” Vincent frowned at him.

  “No. I’ve kept it all innocent. Well, as innocent as I can get. I just…” Elijah swallowed a frog in his throat. “And Quinn…” Elijah had never wanted to admit he loved that boy more than he already did. It wasn’t love that would burn for ages, but he loved him for what they had. Friendship, brotherhood, understanding that they received nowhere else.

  It was changing with Sawyer around. Quinn ha
d once told him she did that, she changed everything, and that he knew the moment he saw her that she would.

  Quinn had been right. They wanted each other less and less, and instead sat and pined over her.

  Elijah closed his eyes, hoping the tears didn’t come. His two favorite people were out there without him.

  “Talk to me, Elijah,” Vincent commanded gently, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed.

  “I’m in love with her.” Elijah sighed. “I was too much of a coward to ever tell her, and she has no idea. Quinn is out there, surrounded by things that want him dead, and I’m not there for him.”

  “What can I do to make this easier?” he asked, reaching out.

  “Let me stay,” Elijah told him. “Don’t send me back to New York or Georgia, not without knowing where they are, if they might be okay. Don’t make me leave until we know.”

  “Okay. When you’re discharged, I’m going to put you on light duty. You’ll work with local governments to see the areas the Druid claimed. Talk to families who escaped their lands. See what can be done to stop this from happening again.”

  “Thank you,” Elijah whispered. It would keep him close, so he could know early. It would keep him here to see them if they made it out. “I know you were right, by the way. I just hate it.”

  “We all do,” Vincent said. “We all hate it. The good news? There’s finally a team out there with the training that should have been on the mission originally. Team Ares is the top-rated Spec Ops team in IMAS. They are fucking good at their jobs.”

  “Yeah and Team Mars is number two. I know,” he mumbled.

  They sat in silence for a long time and Elijah reached out to pet the raven. Kaar fluffed and shook his feathers, then bounced up his chest for a cuddle.

  “He never wants to cuddle with me, but he’ll cuddle with you. Fucking shit bird.”

  Elijah couldn’t resist a weak chuckle. It was half-hearted, since his heart was out in the jungle, but Vincent had pulled one out of him nonetheless.

  27

  Sawyer

  Sawyer didn’t know how long she followed the jaguar.

  She just knew that at some point, she couldn’t continue and had collapsed. Something grabbed onto her bra and pulled her, dragging her over the earth, slowly but surely.

  Someone spoke, but Sawyer didn’t understand the language. It was harried and worried. Frantic and distraught. Feminine.

  Other voices joined in. Growls erupted. A snarl silenced the growls.

  A wave of relief went through her.

  Hands grabbed her and lifted her from the earth.

  Voices continued in the language she didn’t know.

  The hands were rough and calloused, but gentle with her.

  They were moving fast. She could feel the air on her face.

  She was placed on something that felt like furs.

  “You will live,” whispered a heavily-accented female voice. “Do not give up yet.”

  Burning hot hands touched her and she screamed.

  Sawyer woke up with a start, reaching around for anything. She didn’t know where she was. Disoriented and scared, she fell out of the mat of skins and furs she was laying on and crawled around, trying to stand.

  Her legs shook with exertion, but she succeeded. Her eyes searched frantically around the…

  She slowed.

  The hut was grass, it seemed. Grass and mud compacted into walls, in a tent-like shape.

  A male voice began to say something, and Sawyer snapped her eyes in his direction, reaching to pull a weapon.

  There was nothing she could arm herself with, because she was completely nude. She stepped back, wondering if there was going to be a fight with the tribal man in the doorway. He was dark-skinned, just a few shades darker than her and Quinn. He had red painted over parts of his body. He didn’t seem threatening, since he carried no weapons. Only dressed in a simple loin cloth, he was nearly as nude as she was.

  If he wasn’t a Magi, she wouldn’t have been worried at all.

  But he was.

  And as powerful as Quinn, if she could even begin to guess power at that magnitude. His had the same wild feeling as Quinn’s, but less angrily feral. Just wild, just like the deep jungle, but not angry.

  She continued to look over her possible opponent, who said nothing. Older than her, but she couldn’t be certain. She had a feeling that life expectancy in these parts was low.

  A female voice, in the same foreign language, called out, and he turned. Sawyer ignored the ass that entered her vision. She was thankful he’d been covering the front, but it was all he’d been covering.

  The man left the door, walking away towards the woman’s voice.

  Sawyer took the chance to look around for anything to wear.

  “Here,” a voice whispered into the hut. Heavily accented, but Sawyer recognized it. It had whispered to her that she would live.

  Sawyer looked back at the door and saw a woman this time. She was more dressed than the man. Her hair was much like Sawyer’s - wildly curly, long, and frizzing from the humidity.

  “Clothing. I had your pants cleaned, and I still have plenty of modern clothing that should suit you. And a towel. I will show you where we bathe.” The woman held out the bundle and Sawyer reached forward, taking it slowly.

  She knew what this woman was.

  “You’re a Druid,” Sawyer whispered, wondering if the fight would recontinue. This wasn’t the one that attacked them.

  “Yes. I live with this tribe, and protect them as well. One of them is my husband, my mate.” The Druid sighed sadly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Really?” Sawyer swallowed. She didn’t have any energy. She hadn’t even looked over her injuries.

  “No. I believe in remembering that I’m human, and humans can be educated, so that’s my approach to keeping my territory healthy and safe. You met…” The Druid shook her head, not finishing the sentence. “We’re not all like that.”

  “Not what I’ve heard,” Sawyer retorted, still cautious. “Or experienced.”

  “There’s a reason most Druids are considered peaceful,” the Druid replied. “Because we are.”

  “If we don’t step on your toes,” Sawyer hissed.

  “No, if you don’t destroy our homes and kill our families.”

  Sawyer let that soak in. She couldn’t blame the Druid for that. “Okay.”

  “Would you like to know who healed you?”

  Sawyer dropped the bundle on the cot and touched her shoulder. Scars. She looked down to her leg. There was a small hole where tissue must have died, but nothing more.

  “Yes, and how long was I asleep?”

  “Two days, and the man who came in is who healed you. He doesn’t speak English, but if you know Portuguese, he has some passing ability. He’s been trying to learn for me, just as I know his tribe’s language for him.”

  “I speak Spanish. We should be able to cobble together some communication.” Sawyer had to do it before. The languages were different, but the similarities made it possible to understand some things, get general ideas across. “Husband?” Sawyer guessed, pulling out a bright blue t-shirt. She resisted the urge to wince at the color, but she pulled it on without saying anything. Next, she found her pants. Holes were sewn up, and she slid them on next. The Druid held out one more item. Sawyer took her ring and slid it back on. She was amazed the damn thing had survived the trip so far.

  “Yes. I knew you would understand.” The Druid extended a hand to shake. “Come. My name is Yasmin. Be welcome here.”

  Sawyer took the offered hand and they shook, but the Druid didn’t release her, pulling her out of the hut before she could stop it.

  “Where’s Quinn? The guy. He should have been with me?” Sawyer looked around the tiny village of grass and mud huts in a small clearing of the jungle.

  “Still asleep. He lost a lot of blood, and my husband knows his own when he meets them and wanted you awake before we woke your friend.”


  “His own?” She didn’t like that. She didn’t know what it meant.

  “Children of Druids are always a bit different. More magical than others. There’s no one quite like them and you are with Rogue Wolf. He’s…trouble for Druids, and my husband wants us to be safe,” Yasmin explained. “My husband is the son of the Druid who ran this territory before me. She passed away only a couple of years ago. She had accepted me when my powers manifested and I ran out here as a teenager. He and I grew up together.”

  “Rogue Wolf?” Sawyer frowned, following Yasmin as she led them somewhere.

  “You…you called him Quinn,” Yasmin said, nodding. “The name by which we Druids know him is Rogue Wolf, the name his mother gave him.”

  “How?” Sawyer crossed her arms, stopping. “How…”

  “There isn’t a Druid on the earth who doesn’t know the story of the rogue,” Yasmin whispered. “But I feel like he must tell you his story, since you are his mate. It’s not my place.”

  Sawyer didn’t answer. Mate? She would correct that later. Not like she didn’t wish someone as sexy as Quinn would want her, but that just wasn’t in their cards, she thought. She just followed the Druid in silence to a pool, and Sawyer sucked in a breath at how beautiful the area was. Waterfalls cascaded into the pool, which led to another waterfall on the other side.

  “The water is clean and safe for you to bathe. We have drinking water in the village,” Yasmin told her. “You will get clean and we will talk more before waking up your Quinn.”

  Her Quinn.

  She could agree with that. Not all hers, but part of hers.

  Sawyer stripped back down, placing her towel and her clothing on a rock, following Yasmin into the clear, clean water.

  It was like she’d never been clean before. It was refreshing and the best bath she’d ever had. The world smelled like flowers, and Yasmin sang softly, wading closer to the waterfall.

  “You said children of Druids are also different. Are they Legends?”