Alpha’s Revenge

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Alpha’s Revenge Page 10

by N. J. Walters


  “And he didn’t kill you. Weakness. I told Piedmont that Alpha Ten was weak.” The General cocked an ear toward the door, but there was only silence. “I expect my security teams to quickly retake the inner city. A ragtag bunch of under-trained men are no match for my skilled fighters.”

  Charity smiled. “Those men and women were trained by the best. They were trained by an Alpha.” She shifted closer, waving her free hand in the air to distract him from her other one. “The best of the best. More machine than man. A cold, calculating killer with no feeling. Isn’t that what you always said?”

  She saw the General’s hand swinging toward her face. Satisfaction filled her. He was the one who was predictable. It would never occur to him that she would raise a hand to kill him.

  Time slowed. As his hand came toward her, she ducked and moved in low and fast. Swinging her arm forward, she brought the blade of the knife up and buried it deep in the General’s belly.

  He jerked back and she stumbled away as blood trickled from the fresh wound. He stared at the knife and back at her. Charity swallowed hard. He was barely bleeding. He wasn’t falling to the ground. How could he still be standing?

  “You should have followed through with an upward motion, gutting me while you had the chance.” Her father raised his gun and aimed it at her head. “And I should have killed you at birth as I did your mother. I wanted a son and all she produced was another weak female.”

  Charity was past fear. Past feeling surprise at the depths of her father’s depravity. She’d always wondered if he’d killed her mother. Now she knew. She knew it was no good to remind him that, as the male, it was his sperm that decided the sex of the baby. She straightened her shoulders, waiting for the bullet that would end her life. She wouldn’t grovel. Wouldn’t beg. Even though he’d never know what happened, she wanted Adrian to be proud of her.

  “General, are you okay?” Two uniformed men rushed into the room, guns drawn and ready.

  “I’m fine, you idiots. Keep a watch while I finish this.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of them said. They stationed themselves just outside the door, watching both ways for invading forces.

  Her father’s finger tightened on the trigger. This was it. Her muscles bunched and she prepared to attack. If she was going down, she was going down fighting. She wouldn’t make it easy for him to kill her.

  Two shots rang out, quickly followed by two more. She expected to feel a bullet tearing through her flesh, but there was no pain. One of the security police fell, the other one backed into the room. “Two men, coming fast.”

  Was one of them Adrian? Charity was half afraid it was. She couldn’t let her father destroy him.

  A loud roar echoed off the thick concrete walls. Charity’s gaze flew to the doorway. The General’s attention wavered and he turned away from her for a split second as he glanced toward the door. Charity leapt forward, knocking his arm upward to deflect his aim. More gunfire ripped through the air. She heard a man cry out in pain.

  Her father swore and punched her. She managed to jerk away at the last second, but his fist still grazed her chin, knocking her back. Adrian was suddenly silhouetted in the doorway, his face a mask of fury, of promised death.

  “I’ll make sure you’re dead this time,” her father avowed, turning his gun on Adrian.

  “No!” Charity screamed, jumping in front of the General at the last second. His gun fired and she was flung backward as fire bit through her arm. She slammed into the wall and fell to the floor, landing with a heavy thud. She heard another gunshot close by. She blinked to clear her vision, needing to know that Adrian was safe, that everything she’d been through hadn’t been in vain.

  Adrian was locked in combat with the General. Both large hands were wrapped around the General’s wrist. He squeezed tight and twisted. The gun fell from the General’s hand, clattering to the floor.

  Her vision was getting hazy, but she blinked to clear it. She had to help Adrian. Her left side was on fire, so she dug her right hand into the floor and tried to drag herself forward.

  Before she could pull herself an inch, Adrian was behind her father, hard-muscled forearm around his neck, twisting it sharply. A loud crack rent the air and all life faded from her father’s eyes. The monster was dead. Adrian tossed the body to the floor and stepped over it as though it were nothing.

  Charity closed her eyes and sighed. Adrian was safe. Nothing else mattered. She felt his hand on her face for a brief second before he touched her arm. She cried out as pain consumed her and the world went black.

  Adrian had seen many wounds in his lifetime. Hell, he had one of his own from where the General had gotten off another quick shot before Adrian had been able to stop him. He’d seen men die in the most horrific ways and he’d killed more than his share. But never had anything affected him like seeing Charity shot.

  Because of the sharp angle from the doorway, Adrian hadn’t been able to get a good shot off. He’d known the General was going to shoot him, was prepared to handle the pain. He knew he wouldn’t die, couldn’t die. Not until Charity was safe. Instead, she’d jumped in front of the General at the last second, taking the bullet meant for him.

  He hadn’t believed in her, hadn’t trusted her when the chips were down. Hadn’t been able to admit he loved her. Instead, he’d believed the lies the General had spouted. And what did she do in return? Take a bullet for him and save his life.

  Her eyes were closed, her body limp. She’d lost consciousness. Which was just as well. He didn’t want her in pain, nor was he ready to face her. Her words still echoed in his brain. The best of the best. More machine than man. Cold, calculating killer with no feeling. That’s what she’d said to her father. That was the side he’d shown her and that’s what she believed him to be. In spite of that, she’d risked her life for him, for all of them. The Resistance owed this woman a debt of gratitude that could never be repaid. Without her, they would have failed.

  Her face was dirty, her cheek bruised. Beneath that, she was very pale. He expected that when he stripped off her clothing, he’d find her body bruised from head to toe. The earlier blasts, coupled with what she’d been through since, had left their mark. Her hair was matted and tangled, her clothing filthy.

  “How is she?” Tienan stepped past the bodies on the floor and knelt beside him.

  Adrian tore the sleeve of her shirt all the way to her shoulder to reveal the wound. It wasn’t bad, but it would take some time for her to recover. His fingers were covered in her blood. Tears pricked his eyes but he blinked them back. There was no time for self-recrimination. He had to see to Charity.

  “It’s a flesh wound.” Ripping the sleeve into several small pieces, he wrapped it around Charity’s arm. “I need to get her to Mercy.” He knew Doc Smith, had known him for years, but he wanted Mercy to tend to Charity. He didn’t think he could stand the thought of another man touching her, even if it was to heal her. Possessiveness was riding him hard. He fought down the emotion as he finished his makeshift bandage.

  Tienan nodded, not even bothering to try to convince Adrian to do anything different. The man had a woman of his own and understood.

  Logan appeared in the doorway, looking disgusted. “Piedmont was down there. I smelled him but I couldn’t find him.” None of them would ever forget the unique scent of their creator and primary tormentor.

  “We’ll get him,” Adrian promised as he slid his arms beneath Charity and lifted her. His main goal now was to get his woman medical attention. “I need to get her to Mercy first.”

  Logan stared at the woman Adrian had cradled in his arms and nodded. “Follow me.”

  The three men left as quickly and quietly as they arrived. Logan led and Tienan brought up the rear, both ready to guard the woman Adrian carried.

  Deep in the bowels of the building, the body of the General lay dead and f
orgotten.

  Chapter Eight

  The wind blew through Adrian’s hair as he stood on the steps outside of security headquarters and looked out over the crowd gathering. He wanted to be with Charity, but Mercy assured him she would keep a watch. There were things that needed Adrian’s attention. Never had he wanted to shirk his duty as much as he did now.

  Tienan came up beside him. “Logan’s already left with the first supply of goods. He’ll be back tonight. Tomorrow at the latest. He’s letting people know they can come to the Gate for assistance. We have troops on both entrances who will monitor comings and goings.”

  “Good.” Adrian knew it was important to control the entrances. There were those on the outside who would love nothing more than to pillage and destroy. He wasn’t about to allow that to happen.

  “Quite a crowd gathering.” Tienan glanced at the rapidly filling area. A general announcement had been issued that the Resistance was going to address them.

  While Adrian knew not everyone would show, he’d figured the majority would. “People want to know what’s going to happen.”

  It had been a full day since the Resistance had overrun the city and taken control. Most ordinary citizens had stayed in their homes. They had no fighting skills or weapons. The Ruling Council was to blame for that, and it had led to their downfall.

  There’d been a few areas where the fighting had lasted longer, but the remaining security forces had eventually lost heart and quickly surrendered. They’d been rounded up and taken into holding for questioning. Some of the younger, newer recruits had already been released and sent home. It would take a little longer to deal with the seasoned veterans. A few, he knew, had cut and run, making their way outside the Gate. They might be a problem, or they might just slip away and live out their lives. Either way, he’d handle it.

  “I’ll let you do the talking.” Tienan slapped him on the shoulder and disappeared. Adrian wasn’t surprised. Tienan wasn’t much of a talker.

  Derrick strode up, clipboard in hand. Adrian would be lost without his second-in-command. Derrick was a detail man. “Sir.” He nodded at Adrian. “We’ve got a basic inventory of goods available. I’ve got people assigned to every business and service, trying to get an accurate assessment.”

  “Good.” Adrian stepped forward and the murmur of the crowd subsided. Another indication of just how beaten down the people were. No one called out any questions. They just stood there and waited for him to speak.

  “My name is Adrian.” A low rumbling. Seemed as though some of the people had heard of him. “The Ruling Council is no more and the General is dead.” A gasp and then a hush fell over the people assembled. Someone started to cry. He didn’t think it was because they were mourning the General, but because they were relieved he was gone.

  “We’re not here to hurt you,” he continued. “But no longer will the people inside the Gate live with plenty while those outside starve. We’ll be working on extending the Gate. In the meantime, goods will flow to those outside that need it.”

  The rumbling got louder and people began to whisper amongst themselves. Adrian let it continue for several seconds before raising his hand for silence. “Go to work. There will be members of the Resistance there to meet you. Explain to them what you do and how you do it. We’re here to learn.”

  He paused and ran his gaze over the crowd. “Any attempt to sabotage us will be met with swift reprisals.” Adrian let that sink in before continuing. “If you work with us, your lives will continue on. We’re not here to take from you, but we do want our fair share.” He indicated Derrick. “If you have any problems with any member of the Resistance, see Derrick.”

  With that, Adrian turned his head and left. He’d had enough. It was time to get back to Charity. He wanted her to wake enough to talk with him, even as he dreaded their coming confrontation.

  He had no idea how she would react to him after everything that had happened. He shoved those thoughts aside. All that mattered was Charity getting well.

  * * *

  Charity was warm and cozy. She shifted and moaned as pain shot through her arm and shoulder. A low male voice murmured something to her. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but the sound of the voice reassured her and she snuggled nearer to the source of warmth surrounding her.

  A large muscled forearm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to a firm, hard chest. Sighing, Charity let herself drift back into the nothingness where she didn’t hurt and didn’t have to think.

  The next time she surfaced, she knew she was alone. She took a moment to examine her surroundings. Warm blankets were bundled around her and she was lying on a mattress. She also didn’t hurt quite as much as she had, which was a definite plus. The pain was down to a dull roar. She forced her eyes open and blinked to help herself focus.

  She didn’t recognize the room at all. It was fairly large and opulent. Heavy curtains hung at the window, blocking out most of the light. There were two chests of drawers made of the same dark wood as the frame of the bed. Two high-back chairs sat in front of a fireplace, which was empty. She wished there was a fire crackling in the hearth. In spite of the blankets, she was cold.

  The door opened and she swiveled her head around. Big mistake. Her head started to pound in an unrelenting rhythm before finally settling back to a dull pain. A short woman with incredibly pale, blond hair strode in. It took her fuzzy brain a moment to recognize her. “Mercy.” Her tongue felt fuzzy and her mouth was dry, making it hard to speak.

  Mercy smiled at her as she bustled over to the side of the bed. “Good. You’re awake.” Picking up a pitcher on the bedside table, she poured some water into a glass and held it out to Charity. “I bet you could use some of this right about now.”

  Charity could practically smell the cool, refreshing water. She put her hands beneath her body and pushed, gritting her teeth as the pain washed over her. It wasn’t quite as bad as she expected. When she was settled against the pillows, she held out her hand, surprised to see it was trembling.

  Mercy sat on the bed next to her, put the glass in her hand and helped her lift it to her lips. “Take it slow. You’ve been out of it for three days now.”

  Three days. That was a lot of time to lose. She sipped and let the water refresh her parched throat and mouth. “What happened?”

  “It’s been organized chaos.” Mercy sighed and raked a hand through her short hair. Charity really looked at her and noticed the dark circles beneath Mercy’s eyes. “So many dead and wounded,” the other woman continued.

  Her stomach clenched. “Adrian?” She didn’t ask about her father, knew he was dead, which brought no grief, only a sense of relief.

  “He’s fine.” Mercy shook her head. “He was grazed by a bullet when the General shot at him, but he’s already healed. Alphas heal extremely fast.” She watched Charity carefully as she spoke.

  Too weak to keep drinking, Charity relinquished her hold on the glass and closed her eyes. “Good.” She couldn’t bear the thought of Adrian being hurt. She wasn’t quite ready to think about their relationship, or lack thereof. She had a vague memory of him lying next to her in this bed, but decided it had to have been a dream. He’d have been much too busy to worry about her. It was possible, even likely, he still believed she had something to do with the trap he’d walked into.

  “He’s sat with you every spare second he’s had since the inner city fell.”

  Charity’s eyes flew open. Hope rose within her. Maybe it hadn’t been a dream. Maybe he had held her in his arms while she’d slept. A flicker of warmth was kindled deep inside her and her heart began to beat faster.

  She didn’t know what to say to Mercy, so she nodded. “How are things outside?”

  “Right now, the Resistance is in control of the inner city. The general populace is afraid, but starting to come around now that t
he fighting has stopped.

  “Adrian has addressed everyone several times. Tienan and Logan have been busy routing out pockets of dissent. Derrick and Adrian are learning how the city works and how best to keep things operating while getting much needed supplies to the outer city.”

  “Wow.” She had missed a lot the past few days.

  “It’s a big change,” Mercy agreed. “Adrian even has some scientists already put to work on finding ways to enlarge the Gate to encompass a larger area. There’s a long, hard road ahead, but at least those outside the Gate don’t have to worry about being hunted and killed for no reason. Supplies are being shipped out to those who don’t want to settle in the inner city.”

  “Where are we?” Charity knew there were many fine houses in the inner city, but she had no idea where she was.

  The corners of Mercy’s mouth turned up in a smile. “We’re actually in Smithson Piedmont’s home.”

  Charity knew her mouth was open, but couldn’t help herself. They were in the Piedmont mansion.

  “Seems Tienan and Logan spent some time here when they escaped from the lab at the Piedmont Corporation. They know about the tunnels that run both inside and beneath the place. Plus, the kitchen is huge. Nadine has been cooking nonstop since she took up residence here two days ago.”

  So much information was making Charity’s head spin. She hated feeling weak. She wanted to get out of bed and be a part of things. A soft hand touched her forehead, smoothing back a damp lock of hair. Her gaze shot to Mercy.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be up and around in a couple more days. The wound is just a graze but you lost quite a bit of blood.” Her eyes crinkled. “I know it hurts like the devil, but it’s healing. Your body took a battering and is bruised from the explosion and other things.” Neither of them commented on the fact that her father was responsible for most of her injuries, but it was understood.

 

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