by L. S. O'Dea
She nodded. She could refuse, but she wouldn’t do that to him or to Laddie.
CHAPTER 11: TRINITY
THE SEWER TUNNELS GREW darker and danker the closer Trinity and Hugh got to town. They were near the area where Ray, the House Servant who ran this section of the city, should’ve left the supplies. Trinity trusted him—he was a childhood friend of her father’s—but he’d warned them that there were always those who wanted to usurp him.
Hugh walked close behind her his hand over his nose to block the odor. “I can’t see...”
She turned toward him, her finger to her lips, indicating silence.
“A thing,” he continued, obviously not able to see her in the dark. “How much...”
She touched his mouth with her fingertip. He froze, lips partially open. She grasped his hand and he entwined his fingers with hers. She pulled free and grabbed the cuff of his shirt. She wasn’t his mate. There was no reason to hold hands in the dark. She led him to the side of the tunnel and let go of his shirt, stepping away. “Wait here.”
“Where are you going?” His voice was low as he edged toward her in the darkness.
“I’ll be back in a minute. I promise.” She wouldn’t want to be left alone, unable to see in the dark, especially with his past.
“I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re not. It could be dangerous.”
“Then, I’m definitely going with you.”
She mentally counted to ten. Males could be so protective. “You’ll make it more dangerous.”
“I’m not completely worthless.” There was a hint of indignation in his tone.
“Yeah, you are. At least down here.” He was useless everywhere, but males were easier to command if you allowed them a little pride.
“That may be, but I’m not letting you go alone.”
“Letting me? You can’t stop me.” She leaned in close. “You can’t see anything. Your hearing stinks and you’re not quiet. How do you think you can help me?” So much for saving his pride.
“I’ll do whatever I have to in order to protect you.” He leaned closer, until their noses almost touched. “No matter what.”
“Good. Then wait here.” She patted his cheek and darted down the passageway. He couldn’t follow her if he couldn’t see her.
Having traveled to Ray’s many times, she knew the layout of this part of the sewer system almost as well as the forest. She’d approach from the back. It’d take longer but no one should expect it. She slipped down a couple of side tunnels and then stopped. This was the end of the sewer pipe. If there was going to be an ambush it’d be here. She listened to the night. Small rodents scurried, going about their business. They weren’t frightened, at least not more than normal.
She darted out of the tunnel and into the street, running down an alley and stopping behind a garbage dumpster. There was a cardboard box leaning against the building. She pushed it aside and peered into the small opening in the concrete. The package was there and nothing else. She opened it, searching everything to ensure that there wasn’t a tracking device hidden inside. She tucked the parcel under her arm and headed back toward the sewer. This was the first thing that had gone according to plan. She’d have to give Ray a big hug when she saw him.
She raced through the sewer, wanting to get back to Hugh as quickly as possible. Being left alone in the dark couldn’t be fun. She stopped at the opening to the large tunnel where she’d left him. He was stumbling along with his hand against the wall, following the path she’d taken. Stubborn fool. Luckily, he hadn’t gotten too far or she would’ve had to hunt him down because there was no way he’d have been able to follow her trail, not with his vision and sense of smell.
She moved in his direction. It was several minutes before he heard her approach. His eyes widened and his breathing became more hurried. He stopped, tipping his head to try and catch any sound. The smell of fear wafted toward her. He didn’t know it was her. She should call out, but a little scare would be good for him. The tunnels could be dangerous. He should’ve listened to her and stayed where she’d left him. He staggered backward and hit the wall, almost falling.
“Hugh, it’s me.” She moved forward, touching his shoulder. He needed to learn a lesson, but she didn’t want him hurting himself. They still had to make it through the city and they’d draw less attention if he wasn’t limping. The areas they were traveling through saw injury as an invitation.
“Don’t ever do that again.” He shoved her hand away from him.
“What? Leave you? Or watch you stumble around in the dark, stinking of fear?” He had no right to give her any type of orders.
He moved until he was only inches away from her. “Go off into a dangerous situation by yourself.”
“I was safer alone.” Males were so...so difficult, overbearing and bossy.
“No, you weren’t. You could’ve been attacked by a group or someone could’ve snuck up on you or—”
“I’m done with this conversation.” She pulled two cloaks out of the package and shoved one against his chest, knocking him back a step. “Put this on.”
He glared at her but did as she said.
“The hood too.” She pulled her cloak on and as soon as he covered his head, she shifted position to view him from every angle. It hung down to his knees and past his hands. “Walk to the wall and back.”
“Why? Are you hoping I’ll stumble about like before?”
“Do you have to argue about everything? Just do it.” She was so tired of traveling with him. She should make him hang out with Gaar and Mirra. He’d learn not to ask stupid questions.
“Asking why is not arguing.” He didn’t move.
“I need to see if anything gives you away as an Almighty. Many here wouldn’t hurt you, High Hugh Truent, but others only see an Almighty.”
“Don’t call me that.” He walked to the wall.
“Why?”
“Now, you’re arguing with me.” He headed toward her.
“Stop being a jerk.” She studied his movements and shook her head. “I can still see your skin. It’s too white.” She dug in the package and took out a belt with a knife and sheath.
“Why am I argumentative when I ask you a question but you aren’t when you ask me the same question?”
“Because I’m curious and you were being stubborn.” She handed him the weapon and belt.
“I was not being stubborn.” He started to strap it around his waist.
“Yes, you were. Under the cloak. You’re going to have to keep your hands and arms covered as much as possible. The sides of the cloak don’t meet so you can attack without worrying about the cloth getting in the way.” She unsheathed her knife from under her garment as a demonstration. “Plus, no one will know that you’re armed.” She put her weapon away.
“We need to call a truce and since I doubt that you’ll start, I’ll be the bigger person.” He glanced at her, a smile playing about his mouth as he latched his belt.
“I could be the bigger person.” Even when trying to be nice, he was a jerk.
“I look forward to seeing that one day.” He gave up the fight and grinned. “But I doubt that it’ll be soon.” He put his finger on her mouth. “Don’t argue. Let me finish my apology.”
She shifted away from his touch. “This I can’t wait to hear.”
“Then stop interrupting me.” His smiled widened even more. “I admit that I was being a little stubborn earlier, but so were you when you refused to let me go with you.”
“You should work on your apologies. They stink.” She pulled a small tin out of the package. “Leaving you behind was for your safety and mine and so is this.” She tried to keep from smiling, but couldn’t quite pull it off. He was going to hate this.
“What is that?” He lowered his head toward the container, trying to make out the contents.
She dipped her fingers inside and scooped up a glob of the thick, tacky, black substance.
“Holy Araldo, that st
inks.” He straightened, turning his face away.
Sometimes, life was good. “Yes, it does and we need to use it to cover your arms, hands and face.” She tried to keep the glee from her voice but failed.
“You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re kidding.”
She shook her head and rubbed the black tar-like substance along his cheek.
“Disgusting.” He wrinkled his nose, but didn’t move. “It smells like shit.” He dipped his hand in the tin and began covering his arm with the stuff.
“Well...” She bit her lip.
“No. Come on. Really?” He stopped rubbing the stain on his skin and stared at his hands, a look of horror on his face.
“You could call it fertilizer.”
“So, it is shit!” He flung the substance off his hand.
“A special blend created to cover your skin and your smell.” She smeared a bit on the bridge of his nose, smiling wide.
“You don’t have to enjoy this so much.” He sounded like a petulant boy, but he scooped out more and smeared it on his other arm. “I feel so special. I get my own blend of shit.”
“I didn’t say it was created just for you. Others use it too.”
He shot her a disgusted look, but there was humor lurking in his eyes. “You really know how to wound a guy. I’d hoped to market this one day. Make my fortune again.”
She chuckled, wiping her hand on his cloak. Sometimes he was okay.
He finished his hands and arms and started on his face, grimacing again. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?” His tone was playful. “I’m not sure what I did to make you hate me, but I’m sorry.” He smeared his hands down his throat. “I truly, truly am.” He smiled at her. “All done. How do I look?”
“Your face is still too pale.”
He groaned and reached for the tin. She stopped him from getting more.
“I’ll do it. You can’t see your face and you’re missing too many spots.” She dipped her hand into the container again and worked the stain into his cheeks, his skin warm and a little rough. Her fingers trailed to his forehead, bringing darkness as they roamed. She got some more stain and worked it down his throat, his pulse beat increased under her touch and his breath tickled the top of her head. “There. All done.” Her words were a whisper in the dark as her eyes met his—brilliant blue in his dark face. She could still smell him, even under the fertilizer, warm male. Her face flushed and she took a step back, slipping the tin into her pocket. “We should go.”
“They’ll smell me a mile away,” he said as they started walking.
“Trust me, you’ll fit in perfectly.”
“Great. I can hardly wait to meet everyone.”
“They’re just as excited to meet you.”
“I’m sure.” His eyes narrowed in amusement and there were small laugh lines at the corners.
He was even attractive covered in shit. She really did hate him.
They traveled through the city taking back alleyways. The night was calm. She’d expected a bit more activity, but hopefully, this meant that the Almightys didn’t suspect that Hugh would head into the city which had been their plan.
She stopped at a door and tapped on it with one long claw. A window two feet above their heads slid upward a crack, a bolt was unlatched and the door opened.
CHAPTER 12: HUGH
HUGH HAD NEVER SEEN a House Servant that large. Was this another mix between Servant and Producer? He glanced at Trinity. She was an exquisite blend of the two classes with her mother’s height and her father’s bone structure, but this male was a monster. He was tall and muscular, almost brutish with harsh, heavy features. The Servant studied them for a moment and then stepped aside.
Hugh exhaled slowly, relieved that there wasn’t going to be a confrontation with the brute. He ignored the disgusted look Trinity threw at him before heading into the building. She probably thought she’d win if she’d had to fight that beast. She needed to realize that she wasn’t invincible before she got hurt. He’d talk to Tim about her as soon as they were alone, along with other topics, like the fact that they weren’t related.
They turned a corner and entered a large room. They were in an old factory that must have shut down years ago by the broken windows, dirt and dust. Boxes were stacked almost to the ceiling, creating a makeshift hallway. As they neared the end of the passageway, something moved behind one of the stacks of boxes. It was about three feet tall, but in the dim light he couldn’t discern anything else. It shifted and a pair of light green eyes glowed in the darkness.
“There’s someone up there.” He put his hand on the knife.
Trinity grabbed his arm, keeping him from unsheathing the weapon. “Keep moving.” She dropped her hold and continued forward.
He glanced back, but the creature was gone. It was probably a young Servant. Hopefully, Conguise’s creations were restricted to the forest and hadn’t started roaming the city.
They exited the box-hallway and entered a large, cavernous room. House Servants glided in all directions. He’d never seen so many in one place. He’d heard that they preferred solitude. Obviously, another lie perpetuated by the Almightys.
“Don’t stare. They’ll take offense."
He dropped his head.
“Don’t avoid eye contact either,” she whispered harshly.
“What in the name of Araldo do you want me to do?”
All around them, the House Servants stared, unblinking in their direction as they continued moving across the room. Whispers and quiet growls slipped out from the shadows.
“Act normal,” she said.
Normal. Right. “This is normal for me when I’m in the midst of a gathering of House Servants.”
He gasped as her elbow jabbed into his gut. “Ouch. Stop doing that.” He was getting really tired of her hitting and poking him.
“Then behave.” She spun around to face him. “You’re not safe here.”
“Then let me thank you for bringing me here.” He stepped closer to her. He couldn’t seem to stop himself. “This is the worst rescue ever.”
She shook her head, but a smile hovered around her lips. “Still no monsters.” She turned around and headed toward a door on the other side of the room.
He followed and leaned in to whisper near her ear. “Not so sure about that. Did you see the thing at the door?”
She jabbed him in the gut again, but not hard. “That’s The Victor and you’d better not let him hear you say that.”
“Definitely don’t want that.” He glanced back. The Victor wasn’t their most pressing problem. All the House Servants followed them as they passed, closing the path behind them. His hand itched to pull his knife. If this were a trap, they were dead. The Servants wouldn’t bother with a trial, only the execution.
“Stop being afraid,” she whispered.
The truth of that stung. “I’m not—”
“I can smell your fear.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “And so can everyone else.”
He followed her gaze. There were hundreds of them, all glaring, unblinking at him. He took a deep breath. The House Servants glided closer which wasn’t helping him to calm down.
She stopped in front of a door and rapped twice, her ears shifting forward. She must’ve heard something for she turned the handle and slipped inside. He stumbled after her, almost stepping on her feet.
“Watch where you’re walking.” She jabbed her elbow into his stomach again.
“Stop that.” He grabbed her arm. “I mean it.”
“I will when you figure out how to walk...and act.” Her large, golden eyes didn’t blink as she reached around him and closed the door.
She had the loveliest eyes he’d ever seen, but she was such a bitch. “I know how to do both, but obviously not to your high standards. That could be why you’re still single.” He paused, his eyes scanning over her. On the island when she’d been helping Cack to stand, he hadn’t been able to look away. Her clothes had been wet and had clung t
o her, outlining her exquisite curves. He’d been surprised that he hadn’t drooled, but she needed her ego deflated a bit. “Then again, perhaps it isn’t your exacting standards that have kept you from finding a mate.”
Her mouth opened on a gasp and he almost felt bad, almost. He glanced over her head and his heart skipped a beat.
“You’re a Grunt’s ass,” she hissed.
He shrugged, barely hearing her, his attention on the room. It was full of females. Young, attractive, female House Servants. They leaned against the walls, reclined on couches and some pressed up around a group of about ten males at a table in the center of the room. His gaze roamed over the females, appreciating the raw beauty. Several stared back, their eyes caressing his body. He smiled at a long, lean, dark-haired female.
“Stop it,” she said.
“What?” He hadn’t done anything but smile.
“Ray won’t like it.” She pointed at the table.
The males had put down their cards and were watching them. Tim and Jackson were among the group.
A slender, male House Servant with gray hair grinned at them. “Trinity my love, are you done berating our esteemed guest?” His final words dripped with sarcasm, making it clear that Hugh was neither esteemed nor a guest. He sauntered toward them, moving with the graceful stride of a Servant in his prime.
“Ray, it’s good to see you.” Trinity smiled, stepping forward into the Servant’s embrace and giving him a quick hug. “Thanks for the cloaks and the stain.” She lowered her voice a little. “I especially enjoyed the stain.”
Somehow, Hugh had forgotten that he was covered in shit. He wiped at his cheeks as his eyes scanned the amused faces of the female House Servants. They hadn’t been smiling at him; they’d been laughing.
“I don’t know how it’s possible, but you grow lovelier every time I see you.” Ray’s hand rested on Trinity’s waist.
Hugh sent Tim a concerned look, but he was busy chatting with another Servant at the table. This Ray character was flirting with Trinity and Ray wasn’t some young, harmless Guard like Curtis. Ray’s hair may be gray but he wasn’t old. He was a charming, very experienced male and one who dabbled in prostitution by the looks of this place. There was no way he was going to let Trinity be used and added to Ray’s bevy of females. He stepped forward ready to knock Ray’s hand off Trinity’s waist when someone grabbed his arm. He spun around, pulling the knife out of the sheath. Jackson yanked him into a quick embrace, shoving Hugh’s hand back toward his side.
