Winter's Warrior: Mark of the Monarch (Winter's Saga #4)

by Karen Luellen

  “Forgive the melodrama, Meg,” Arkdone knelt in front of her strapped down body. “I only want to watch the old Meg disappear. I am honored to be the one to watch your eyes as she dies and the new you comes to life.”

  Meg’s eyes were wide with terror. “What are you talking about? What are you going to do to me?”

  “Why, haven’t you been listening, my dear? I’m about to give you The Perfect Concussion. You’ll have no memories—a beautifully complete blank slate. And you will be mine for the molding.”

  “Oh, God no!” Evan pleaded.

  “Don’t do this!” Cole barked furiously.

  “Meg, no!” Sloan sobbed.

  “Meg, remember. Hold yourself back. Remember who you are, please!” Creed begged.

  “I love you and I always will,” Meg whispered as she clinched her fist around Creed’s promise ring. She locked eyes with each of her family now screaming in fear for her.

  “Now,” Arkdone called to Bjorn.

  The machine let out a loud humming, filling the space and silencing the captives with terror.

  Thump!

  Silence enveloped the room.

  Meg, who had given up on her promise not to cry, stared straight ahead, tears slipping down her now calm face. Her large dark eyes were void of emotion. She would almost look serene if it weren’t for the remnants of her salty tears that merged with the smeared dried blood around her nose, mouth and chin.

  “Now, you’re absolutely beautiful,” Arkdone murmured nearly giddy with joy. “I’ve given you a new beginning and with that, a new name. From now on you will be known as Naya, meaning ‘renewal and fresh’.”

  Meg continued to stare ahead, locked in a distant stare through Arkdone.

  “Meg, please look at me,” Evan pleaded. His face was red with rage and terror. “MEG! I’m your brother! LOOK AT ME!”

  “Oh, dear God. What did you do to her?” Cole looked to have awakened to a real nightmare.

  “Please, come back to me,” Creed quietly begged the dark-eyed beauty. “I can’t do this without you.” Tears slipped hot and sore from his stinging eyes as he watched the girl whose entire identity had just been stolen from her.

  “She’s gone. Meg is gone.” Sloan moaned miserably.

  Ignoring the uproar behind him, Arkdone was busy unstrapping the girl from the wheelchair and carefully removing the helmet. Meg sat perfectly still the entire time.

  “You are complete strangers to her now, so go on and keep screaming. She cares nothing for you. She’s mine now.”

  With that, Creed pulled with everything he had at the iron shackles holding him down. Though they groaned at his efforts, they held tight. “Feel free to exert yourself, Mr. Young. Those shackles were designed to withstand the pull of an adult male elephant. However strong you think you are, you’re still just a metahuman.” Arkdone shrugged as though he were offering pity to a pathetic creature.

  Evan’s eyes would not leave his sister. The honey gold in them dimmed with each passing moment that his sister wouldn’t even acknowledge him.

  Sloan hung her head in defeat, tears splatting silently on her grimy jeans.

  “We will get her back, Arkdone,” Cole blurted. “She might not be able to hear us, but you can. Know this: We will hunt you down and rip you apart with our bare hands. You will pay for what you’ve done to Meg. Do you hear me?” Cole was screaming, his huge biceps pulling tightly on the straps securing him to his wheelchair.

  Ignoring the metahuman screaming across the room, Arkdone held out his hand to Meg as though she were royalty. “Naya, please stand and accompany me. It looks as though we have some more cleaning up to do and there is someone I’d like to introduce you to waiting in the parlor room.”

  Without a word, Meg took Arkdone’s hand and stood gracefully. Her dark eyes stayed staring at a point far away, and she still had not spoken a word.

  “Dr. Bjorn,” Arkdone thought to turn and speak to his new underling. “Evan Winter is next, if you would.”

  Evan didn’t care what happened to him. All he worried about was his big sister holding the hand of the man who had erased her memories.

  Cole and Creed fought against their restraints, screaming profanities at Arkdone’s back as he walked with Meg slowly from the room. It did them no good.

  Meg never turned around.

  She didn’t exchange any knowing look.

  She didn’t utter one word.

  She was gone before she left the room.

  Meg was no more.

  Chapter 61 The Suicide Mission

  Farrow pulled to the side of the road, hiding the navy SUV from view behind a thicket. An old wrought-iron fence wrapped like sharpened spears around the entire thirty-acre compound where a gothic building stood stretched wide across the expanse. In the center of the building stood a tall, statuesque section acting as what was obviously the hub.

  Farrow was in the back taking out her sniper rifle with its scope to get a better look. She handed a second rifle with scope to Alik who was standing, staring at the menacing structure. They moved to lie low to the ground in front of the SUV and opened their weapons’ tripods to get a steady look at what they were up against.

  “I can see Williams himself stepping out of a limousine. He only has Dr. Chaunders and two guards with him.”

  “Where are the other metas?”

  “They’re hiding in the groves behind the compound; at least, that’s where I think they are. Things get fuzzy looking back in time through a scope.”

  “Well, it looks as if we have two options: We can either go in immediately and hope we can get to everyone before Williams send in his troops, or we wait until the troops are sent in and try to get them out during the chaos.”

  “Neither of those plans sounds awesome,” Farrow whispered honestly, “But I vote for the first. If we get in and the troops aren’t there yet, then great. We have fewer bad guys we have to kill to get to the family. If the troops come in while we’re there, we then have the chaos advantage. Either way, they’re not just going to open the door for us and welcome us in.” Farrow was shaking her head slowly, thinking about their odds.

  “Why not?”

  “Why not what?”

  “Why not just walk through the front doors?”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Maybe, but that’s beside the point. I’m sick of these freaks coming into my life and trying to kill everyone I love. I have had enough and I’m mad enough to hulk out on their asses and rip my family from their clutches.” Alik was already headed to the rear of the SUV.

  “You’re serious.” Farrow watched his movements and saw his body starting to engorge.

  “Oh hell yes, I’m serious,” he growled. Alik moved with the skill of an Army Ranger, loading all the weapons they’d brought with them.

  Farrow tried to keep up with his movements by donning her holster and started choosing her weapons, checking them for ammo and slipping them into their positions around her slim hips and at her sides.

  Alik’s hands flew bird’s-wings fast, strapping holsters to himself, checking and securing each weapon in its place, adding clips to his pockets and finally standing, huffing with excitement completely decked out in weapons and standing at the ready. Farrow was ten steps behind him, but caught up quickly.

  They were standing at the base of a fifteen-foot iron fence, looking up.

  Without a word, Farrow leaped five feet straight up and monkey-climbed to the top, swung her legs over and landed gracefully in a crouched position on the other side.

  Simultaneously, Alik was backing up to give him momentum. His body had grown considerably as evidenced by his snug clothing. He took off running toward the fence and leaped at the perfect point where he would catapult himself all the way to the topmost iron tip. With the grace of a black panther, he slipped his legs over the sharp points and flew down to the earth in the most beautiful catlike motion. Even more shocking was his two hundred twenty-five pound body made of pure musc
le landed from the fifteen-foot fall with barely a sound.

  Together, they crouched and ran as close to the tree-lined driveway as possible to stay hidden in the shadows of its thick foliage.

  Cicadas buzzed in the steamy, midday sun as they ran. Dark wispy grass gave way to their thick boots. Thick, gray clouds trudged with heavy feet across the sky, offering darkened coverage periodically. The scent of rain tickled Alik’s sensitive nose. Soon, there could be a downpour, but he wasn’t worried about that now. He was thinking in much more miniature chunks of time. What was going to happen in the next two minutes?

  They arrived at the front doors too soon for Farrow’s liking. She sensed something was already going on behind those doors and they could be walking into a volatile situation.

  She forced herself to take a slow deep breath as she scanned the area for surveillance cameras. She spotted one pointing right at them.

  Shit.

  “There goes the element of surprise,” she whispered behind her hand to Alik and nodded toward the camera.

  “Yeah, I saw that, too. But no one’s come out so I guess that means…”

  “…we’re going in,” Farrow finished.

  “Ready?” Alik whispered. He pulled out two semiautomatic Micro Uzis.

  “Absolutely,” Farrow followed suit, whipping out her own set of Uzis.

  “I’ll aim right.” Alik’s eyes never stopped scanning the area.

  “I’ll aim left.” Farrow risked one more glance at the metahuman at her side before turning the soldier on inside her head.

  “If everything goes to shit, meet back at the SUV with whomever you could get out. And remember not to let them get closer than seven feet from one another. Got it?”

  “Copy that,” Farrow felt a wave of calm wash over her. This is what she was an expert at—battle.

  They ran up the steps to the front door and stood on either side. Alik motioned to the doorknob and reached out to try to knob. It didn’t budge.

  Farrow noticed a line of sweat dripping down his temple. His adrenaline was at maximum. He walked directly up to the door, leaned back and kicked down the entire door and the frame with it.

  Alik took in the scene in half a glance. The foyer was massive with two staircases curving up on either side of the expansive space. Positioned around the room were some twenty-five gunmen. Each of them was pointing their weapons directly at Alik and Farrow.

  “Hello Alik Winter. And this must be Farrow Schone. Dr. Williams is not too pleased with you,” the voice over what sounded like an old speaker system chided.

  Alik counted no fewer than four surveillance cameras around the room. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who the voice belonged to or how he was seeing everything that was happening remotely.

  “Arkdone. I’ve come for my family.” Alik’s voice boomed off the cement walls all around.

  “Of course, you have. But as you can see, I’m not willing to hand them over. May I introduce you to my Monarch Slaves? These men and women have a very special skill set. They are all killers. Unlike you, Alik, they have no qualms about taking a life. Here allow us to demonstrate.

  “Sweep the room!” Arkdone ordered cryptically.

  From behind his back, Alik pulled out a screening gas grenade, yanked the clip and threw it into the middle of the Monarchs. Smoke billowed into the room from both ends of the canister. Several of those closest to it dropped their weapons and ran from the scalding heat it gave off while another five were struck with coughing fits thanks to the grenade’s hydrochloric acid. The effect was just what Alik was looking for. It provided cover for him but not for the Monarchs; not with Alik’s eidetic memory having perfectly mapped and memorized the locations of the attackers around the room.

  Blind bullets flew from the Monarch’s weapons. Farrow dove for cover behind one of the massive potted plants on either side of what used to be the front door.

  Alik felt his body surge with adrenaline coursing through his veins at a terminal velocity. He gripped both Uzis and walked directly into the line of fire, arms outstretched as though willing himself to be crucified for his act of violence. Unlike the ‘expert’ Monarchs, Alik was perfectly trained and precise in his aim. His eyes were staring straight ahead, but his memory of the room and the position of each person in it was perfect.

  Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop!

  His weapons were alive and breathing bullets in his deft hands. Ninety rounds each was plenty for the initial twenty Monarchs, but more kept spilling into the room. Doors on either side of the foyer opened wide and in streamed more guns. From the upper floor, more guns came running down, guns alight.

  Alik didn’t stop.

  From behind him, his profoundly heightened senses knew Farrow to be shooting strategically. She was acting as his sniper, picking off the most dangerous of the Monarchs as they fired or ran toward him.

  The gunfire was a deafening thunder, but he didn’t need his sense of hearing. His perfect muscle memories knew exactly how many bullets he had left. A surge of attackers came in from the left. Alik dropped his Micro Uzis as the last of one hundred eighty rounds popped furiously from his hands. His hot, tingling hands grabbed a clip to reload when his weapon was kicked out of his hand and flew spinning across the marble floor.

  He looked up to see the coal black, dead eyes of a man who stood as tall as him; standing in a martial arts ready stance.

  With Farrow behind him, still able to use her Micros to defend him from others, Alik yanked his eight-inch knife from its holster and in one deft movement stepped toward his attacker. The dead-eyed man growled and tried to push Alik back so he could kick or punch, but Alik stayed right in his face. Dead-Eyes stepped back and tried to punch when Alik responded by stepping forward, blocking his punch with his left hand and dragging his razor-sharp hunting knife across his throat in a swift, deep move that had blood gushing from Dead-Eye’s carotid artery.

  Behind him came another attacker. This guy’s technique was brute force. He began by punching the back of Alik’s head.

  Alik jumped into a full round house and made contact with his face. He spun as he flew and landed with a meaty thwack onto the concrete floor.

  Alik glanced at Farrow, who had just run out of bullets herself and together they ran up the stairs, jumping over bodies as they went and being chased by another batch of fresh attackers.

  Fifteen men and women raced out of the rooms on either side of the stairs and ran up the steps right behind Alik and Farrow.

  No words were exchanged between the two, but they knew they were looking for their family. Each door they came to was either opened or kicked down forcefully. In each room, there were people strapped to beds and though it broke Alik’s heart to have to leave them, he had to find his brother and sister and the others.

  Behind them, panting and footsteps were their theme music.

  “You can run, but you can’t hide,” Arkdone’s voice chimed happily.

  That sick bastard is enjoying this. Alik thought with venom.

  They reached the end of the hallway and found another set of stairs heading back down. With the only other option being stand and fight the two dozen Monarchs on their heels, they leaped straight down the staircase, landing gracefully and kept running.

  This area of the building looked like administration offices. Alik yanked a cart in the way of their pursuers. Then he tossed an entire vending machine over to slow them down. Farrow kept running just ahead of Alik, opening doors and shooting the handles of those that were locked with her Glock.

  Scientists and engineers were behind these doors. Some were in the middle of grotesque experiments and others were in the midst of programming a candidate in some depraved way. It was like running though the levels of hell and being forced to witness the most despicable demons at work.

  But behind none of these doors did they find their family. Alik grabbed a glass beaker off the counter of one room and smashed off the top, leaving a thick jagged edge.

  Far
row was in trouble.

  Her Glock had run out of bullets and a bodybuilder-looking guy had knocked her to the ground.

  Alik turned around and kicked the asshole off her. He was so full of righteous fury the huge attacker flew off Farrow and hit the cement wall three feet off the ground, knocking a hole through it. Alik reached down and helped Farrow up so they could keep running together. From his waistband, he yanked one of the hand grenades he’d stashed there for dire emergencies. He glanced behind him only to see the corridor wall to wall with Monarchs.

  “Get ready.”

  Alik showed her what he was holding in his hand. She was running full speed down the hall, her neck bleeding from the knife her attacker had just begun pressing into her throat when Alik stopped him.

  She nodded once and tried the next door.

  It opened easily.

  She yanked it wide and used the doorframe to fling herself into the room and landed flat on her stomach. Behind her Alik pulled the clip and threw the grenade into the Monarch crowd.

  He dove into the room just as the explosion ripped apart some two dozen mind-controlled slaves in the cement hallway behind him.

  With his foot, he kicked the door shut and rolled over to look at Farrow.

  The look on her face stopped him cold.

  She was staring around the room, jaw dropped.

  A cold sweat slipped across his spine like a razor made of ice.

  Dr. Bjorn.

  Alik recognized him from the video.

  He was holding a gun to Evan’s head.

  Chapter 62 Reunion

  “Dr. Williams, what an unexpected surprise.”

  “I am sure it couldn’t have been completely unexpected after our last conversation. I thought it prudent to come have a one-on-one talk with you.” Williams stood in his standard black on black three-pieced suit. His fedora was angled stylishly on his bloody head and in his hand he was rolling his usual heavy metal orbs. Behind him stood two metasoldiers dressed for war. Gideon Niche, the last of the Perficio Rez chose Joshua Marshall as his second for this task. Dr. Chaunders sat in an inconspicuous chair as far from Dr. Williams as possible.