by H. D. Gordon
My brow furrowed. Jackson was supposed to be watching Alexa? How had I not detected this when I'd Searched him? I cringed. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. Jackson must have something in his mind that had blocked me out of this very important information, but & how? The two continued their secret conversation.
Don't lie to me, boy, snapped Thomas. I've seen the two of you together. I knew it was a mistake to send a boy to watch the Warrior. You seem to have fallen under her spell. William is going to be so disappointed when he hears of this.
Don't call me boy , growled Jackson. And it was no mistake. I've watched her. I've been watching her for the last year. And I've told you everything I know.
So where is the Warrior?
I don't know.
Thomas was quiet for a moment. My heartbeat was pounding in my ears. Perhaps I should pay a visit to that sister of hers. Maybe she would be more forthcoming.
No, Jackson said quickly. She doesn't know anything either. She's not important. Alexa didn't tell anyone why she was leaving or even that she was leaving.
You sound defensive, wolf, replied Thomas, and I could tell that an ugly smirk sat on his face. Could it be that you have fallen for both girls?
Don't be ridiculous, Thomas. It was no mistake to send me. My father knows that he can trust me. Maybe I should tell him that you're questioning his judgment. How do you think he would like that?
Threats do not become you, boy. I'm here to make sure that you still know whose side you're on, said Thomas.
Me? I'm not the one who tried to murder the Queen. Oh, you thought I didn't know that that explosion was your work? A little anxious to ascend to the throne, are we Thomas? Does my father know about your indiscretions here?
Camillia is weak. She hasn't the stomach for what is coming. If the Warrior hadn't pulled her out of the way, I would have been doing her a favor, he snapped. Thomas lowered his voice to a taunting whisper, And William is not your father. You're a pet he found in the woods and decided to take mercy upon.
Jackson voice took on a disturbing wolf-like growl. A favor. Queen Camillia is a favorite of my father s, he made sure to annunciate the word, Always has been, and you know it. And either way you cut it, he calls me his son, and treats me as such, while you on the other hand don't really mean shit to him. You're letting your jealousy cloud your judgment.
And you're letting your infatuation with the Warrior cloud yours, Thomas snapped. I know which side I'll be standing on when the war comes. I believe you are starting to question where your allegiance lies. And the war is going to come sooner than we thought. The Lamias are demanding more blood for the exchange, and if they don't get it, our dealings with them will be off. This means we need more donors. People are suspicious already. Things won't continue as they are. We can't risk having traitors among us, wolves in sheep's clothing. Not now.
I've told you everything I know, Jackson said, between what I was sure was clenched teeth.
Let's hope you have, replied Thomas.
Silence fell. I peeked out around the tree to see both of them standing. Thomas stalked back in the direction he'd come. Jackson stood there for a moment, staring after him. After a shake of his head, he began walking down the path toward his dorm. I waited a moment, then began making my way back to my own, no longer caring if anyone saw me in my disheveled state.
When I made it up to my dorm, I went straight into my bathroom and stripped myself of my dirty clothes. Stepping into the shower stall, I sat down on the floor once again and hugged my knees to my chest. My body began to shake uncontrollably.
I knew why the King needed the blood. I don't know how it had taken me so long to figure out. The King was exchanging the blood, and I knew in my gut what he was exchanging it for. Lamia blood. I also figured that King William was probably a Searcher, and that he was ingesting Lamia blood to increase his powers. Who knew what he was capable of if I was right, which I was pretty sure I was.
Worse, and perhaps more importantly, Jackson was a traitor. He was the King's adopted son, and he had figured out a way to keep even the best of Searchers from some of the secrets of his mind.
God, where the heck was my sister?
Alexa
It started to rain again. The thunder clouds seemed to roll in from out of nowhere, sudden and angry. This was actually lucky. Step one was to take out the generator. With the rain, the guards might think that it was struck by lightning. After that was done, we'd have ten minutes to make it to the surveillance room before the backup generator kicked in, give or take a minute or two.
The plan was simple. First, we go to the spot that Manny told us about. He said it would be on the eastern side of the island where Dangeon sat, which luckily, was on the same side as the other small island where we'd docked the boat. Apparently, there was a downward slope, at the end of which only one guard was positioned. The slope was used to drag dead prisoners bodies down, so that they could be deposited into the ocean. And, more importantly, the edge of it, where the waves met rock, was one of the few blind spots of the cameras. We decided that we would take out the guard that waited there, and then Kayden would don his uniform. I'd protested this, but he'd made the point that I wouldn't be big enough to pass as one of the guards, and I couldn't argue with that. We'd have to move quickly, so that the guard wouldn't have time to radio his buddies, and then Kayden would make his way inside to the camera room, after taking out the generator box that Manny had promised would be about twenty feet above the back door. He would have to use the gun that the guard who manned this door carried, and it was a good thing that the thunder was clapping like gunshots, because we hadn't considered how the actual gunshot might be heard.
According to Manny, only the guards on the docks, towers, and at this back door carried guns; having the guards inside the prison carry guns would be too risky with the types of prisoners the place held. The part that worried me was that Kayden would certainly encounter several guards along the way, and hopefully he would be able to pass by them without calling attention to himself, and they would be too distracted by the power outage to be paying much attention to each other. Manny had told us that there were always a minimum of three hundred guards protecting the prison, and the staff wasn't a talkative bunch, so Kayden stood a chance at passing through if he got a hold of a uniform, but I couldn't help but worry. No matter what Manny said, I knew this plan was a dice-roll with bad odds. Kayden knew this too. If he could get there, Kayden was going to take out the guards in the camera room, then use the walkie-talkie and tell me that it was safe to move in. If we got that far, all we'd have to do was find my Mother and get out. Easy, right? Yeah, right. I would have to come in then, and get past dozens of guards, somehow taking them out before they had a chance to radio others. Kayden would radio me to where my Mother was being held after he got that information from the surveillance room. I would free her, and fight our way back out, then meet Kayden at the docks. Yeah, easy like Sunday fucking morning.
We hadn't discussed whether or not we were going to kill the guards we came across or just incapacitate them. I think we both understood that we would do whatever was necessary. At the moment, we were treading water only ten feet from where the guard was supposed to be at the edge of the slope. But, there was no guard.
Where is he? I whispered, spitting salt water out of my mouth. I didn't like sitting in the water like this. As stupid as it may have been, I kept worrying about sharks.
Just wait, Kayden whispered.
We waited, and I learned how exhausting treading water can be, and the way the sea was bobbing me was starting to make me nauseated. I guessed this stupid island didn't believe in a shoreline, because this close I should have been able to stand in the water. Kayden would have to haul himself out quickly. I hoped there would at least be a ledge when we got closer. But, fifteen minutes went by before we were rewarded for our patience, and I swear it felt like thirty.
Kayden had been right, the guy was huge, and it took me
a moment before I realized that all the prison's guards must be the King's personal Warriors. I thought back to the last time I'd seen them; that day that seemed like so long ago right now, when I'd been forced to fight Kayden. Seeing this guard walking stiffly down the dead-drag slope, with his hulking shoulders, massive arms, towering height, and features shadowed by the dark night & intimidated me, much as I hate to admit it.
The bigger they are &.
The harder they hit, I finished.
So don't get hit. Lesson number one, girl.
The warrior guard stopped about five feet from the water's edge, scanning the scene in silent observation. I held my breath, even though there was no way he could see us out in the dark water. I needed to concentrate, and inner dialogue was not productive. Ahead of me, the warrior pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his teeth. He began patting down his clothing for what I assumed was a lighter. I looked to my right at Kayden. He wasn't there.
I looked all around me, panicking at his sudden disappearance, not knowing what I should do. My first instinct was to call out Kayden's name, but luckily, my monster stopped that impulse in its tracks.
Don't you dare! Just wait.
I looked back to where the guard was standing, digging in his back pocket now for his lighter. He found what he was looking for, and struck the blaze. That's when Kayden all but exploded out of the water. I guess there was a ledge.
He moved fast, but the element of surprise was Kayden's key here. He flew up onto the shore and wrapped his arms around the warrior's knees, throwing his body forward in a football tackle. The guard never saw it coming. His legs were swept out from under him, and his body came crashing down with incredible force. The back of his skull hit the rock with a teeth-clenching thud. Kayden was already on his feet.
His head whipped toward me, and he gestured me forward. I swam to the island, learning that the ledge was just a medium-sized jutting rock, about three feet below the water. I stepped onto it, and Kayden grabbed me under the arms and hauled me out of the water. Uh, thanks, I whispered.
I stood watching up the slope while Kayden stripped the guard of his uniform and put it on. He worked quickly, but the seconds seemed like hours to me. If someone came down the slope and saw us, this mission would end before it had even begun.
Finally, Kayden tapped my shoulder. He was ready to go in, the guard's gun clutched firmly in his hand. I nodded my head and gritted my teeth, wondering if this was the last time I would see him. I drank in his features, willing his image to be burned into my memory. He offered a half smile, as if he could read my thoughts, then turned, and began making his way up the slope. I slipped back into the water, stepping over the unconscious guard, noticing that a little blood was leaking from the back of his head and his mouth hung open. I rested my knees against the ledge and hunkered down so that only my head was above the water. The state of the guard gave me no pause.
If someone came down here to check on him, it was up to me to make sure they didn't get word out. I would also have to deal with him if he came to, though I doubted he would. After a few anxious minutes, I tried to relax a little. My walkie-talkie was clutched tight in my hand where I held it up by my face. I had the sound turned down, but a small red light would flash on the front of it if Kayden radioed me. I had only to wait.
Kayden
I crept my way up the slope. The backdoor to the prison had a camera positioned right above it, so I'd need to shoot out the generator box without being seen by the camera. I clutched the guard's handgun in my right hand. Above me, lightening streaked out across the night sky and thunder cried out. It was time.
I peeked around the corner of the wall that ran parallel to the slope I was standing on. The high stone wall of the prison sat there, with a small landing, a single steel door, and the camera positioned above it. I looked up, there was the generator box.
I crouched, aimed, and fired. The box exploded with a loud crack. I smiled. It looked like lightening had hit it. A small hum, a buzz I hadn't realized was there before, died out. The red light on the camera above the door went out. I had ten minutes to get to the surveillance room.
I made my way over to the door, and using the key I'd stolen from the guard, turned the lock and pushed my way inside. It was pitch black. A ringing alarm was sounding, and a recorded voice announced: Lockdown Lockdown Lockdown. I picked up my pace.
I only made it around the first corner before running smack into another guard. He shined his flashlight on my face, and my body went tense and ready.
What's going on, warrior? he asked me.
It took me a moment to realize that he thought I was one of his comrades. I cleared my throat. Lightening struck the generator, I said. Power's out.
No shit, he replied. Move to your station. We're on lockdown until the backup kicks on.
No shit, I thought, and nodded stiffly. The guard moved past me. I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, and began moving again. I had to get to that camera room. I was grateful that over the alarm and the sound of my heart beating out of my chest, I had little time to form my own thoughts. I hadn't realized that anything other than Alexa could make me so nervous. I knew where to go, though, and every minute counted.
Moving down the corridor, I picked up into a jog when several other guards came jogging past in opposite directions. Most of them seemed to be moving toward the back door. Alexa was out there. I clenched my teeth. I had to trust that she could handle herself, and focus on the task at hand, but I couldn't help but feel as though there was a fire ablaze in my trousers.
Manny had told me that the camera room was located in the central area of the prison, on the third floor. A staircase should be up ahead and around the next corner. More guards came rushing past, and each time my heart skipped a beat. I was getting close. Just a little bit further.
I passed by multiple cells. None of the prisoners called out to me. I found this odd, because I knew instinctively that most of them were occupied. I rounded the corner. More cells. And, at the end of the corridor was the door that led to the stairway, a guard standing in front of it. I moved toward him.
In an attempt to look natural I swept my flashlight to the side and it illuminated one of the cells I was passing. I wished I hadn t, and I jerked the light ahead of me again immediately after. These cells were indeed occupied, and the one that I'd looked into held a sight that was too awful for words. I knew immediately that these prisoners were being milked of their blood, and from the look of the emaciated man I'd just glimpsed, that was probably the kindest of the tortures that took place here. The plan to meet Alexa at the docks seemed impossible now, and I cursed in my head. If her mother was in the same shape as these prisoners, there was no way Alexa would be able to defend herself against the guards. Not while she was carrying her mother.
When I reached the guard, he shined his flashlight in my face as well, and I had to grit my teeth so as not to growl at him. Where's your station, warrior? he barked, over the blare of the alarms.
My brain stalled. I couldn't seem to think of a good answer. The guard reached down to his belt, for his sword or his radio, I'll never know. I slammed my fist into face. His nose made a distinct crunching sound, and he crumpled to the floor. I looked around. Time was short, but if I just left his body here, and someone stumbled across it, they would know that there had been a breach. I grabbed him under the arms, pushed through the door, and stashed him under the stairwell. That would have to do. I checked my watch. Four minutes left.
Racing up the stairs, I finally reached the third floor. I was glad that I wasn't winded, and for the first time in my life, I understood the mindset of the trainers at the Brocken school. My least favorite exercise when I was in school had been the stair runs. I'd done my best to keep up my stamina after graduating, but the stair runs were one thing I'd thought were overkill. I would be rethinking that belief if I made it out of here.
Another door blocked access to the third floor, and I knew tha
t another guard waited on the other side of it. Taking a deep breath, I flung it open. Another flashlight lit up my face. This time, I didn't let the guy get a word out. There was no time to waste. I snapped his neck in one clean motion. He slumped to the ground. A little excitement welled up in me. The guilt would come later. Two minutes left.
The surveillance room should be right around the next corner, on the right. Shutting off my flashlight, I put my head down and raced forward in the darkness. I skidded to a stop when I thought I'd reached the end of the hallway, flipping the flashlight back on. Two guards stood outside of the room I needed to get into. When they saw me, they rushed forward, the light from their flashlights bouncing off the floors and the walls. I tensed and waited, adopting the fighter's stance that was first nature to me.
It crossed my mind that I could just shoot both of them, but that would certainly send more guards running to see what the commotion was. As far as I knew, all of them were positioned at their stations , and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. Swords were clutched in their hands, and they dropped their flashlights to the floor, spilling light across its cold surface. They moved incredibly fast.
I ducked just before the first one's blade swept through the spot where my torso had been only a heartbeat earlier, sending my fist right into his stomach after his sword passed overhead, and popping up to crash the back of my elbow into the back of his head. The second one swung with his blade, and if my sidestep had been any slower, my head would have been removed from my shoulders. I sent a low roundhouse to the side of his left knee, grabbed the back of his neck, and slammed my knee into his face. The sword fell from his hand. I retrieved it. And, less than seconds later, both guards lay dead at my feet. Running the back of my hand across my wet forehead, I pushed through the door to the surveillance room. The backup generator kicked on.
