Underestimating me. How could she have underestimated me? I shook my head, trying to sort through the cotton-like fog in my head, and stopped when the movement made the vertigo return tenfold. The woman—Tabitha—patted me on the shoulder and guided me to a wall. “Rest here,” she said kindly, and I couldn’t help but feel the wrongness that accompanied that statement.
She went down to the next landing, picking up an egg-shaped silver case that rested on the floor as if it had rolled there, then looked up to where I sagged against the wall. I focused on the egg, trying to remember something—something important about it. Tabitha cleared her throat, and I glanced up at her through half-lowered lids. I was so very tired.
“I’ve decided I’m going to give you a warrior’s death, Violet,” she announced. “It’s the least I can do. You earned it.”
I watched blankly as she handed the egg off to a guard, exchanging it for a smaller black object. A pistol, my mind provided, as Tabitha leveled it at me. “Any last words?” she asked.
My gaze drifted back to the warden holding the silver egg, moving away down the stairs. The niggling itch in my mind burned, and I focused, pouring every last bit of energy into remembering. Trying to remember.
When it hit me, I felt an insane laughter bubbling up in me, bursting from my mouth so hard that I almost doubled over from the force of it. It was a terrible, dark thing, rolling out loudly onto the landing.
I looked up to see Tabitha’s alarmed expression as she took a prudent step back—bringing back a sudden memory of when I had kicked this woman in the face in the queen’s library. It only made me laugh harder, my hand going to my chest and fumbling with the edge of my pocket.
“Why are you laughing?” Tabitha asked, a nervous edge in her voice.
I met her gaze, and her eyes went wide as she surely saw the madness swirling in mine. Very softly, into the silence, I said, “You forgot to take the explosives off.”
A flood of unbelievable pleasure poured through me at the sight of Tabitha’s alarm morphing into panic as she turned, her mouth opening, presumably to order the guard to throw the egg away.
Then I clicked the detonator—the correct one—that I had slipped out of my shirt pocket, and the world went black.
38
Viggo
The stairs were a blur as I climbed them, following my instincts and the sound of voices on the top level. I was nearing the top, frantic to find Violet, when I was caught in a blast that threw me off my feet and knocked my head against the wall.
When I came to I was lying on the stairs, on my side, with my head pointed down and my arm folded under me. Black smoke filled the air, and I could dimly hear the desperate, agonized screams of people in terrible pain.
Dammit. I pulled myself up, ignoring the angry protest of my muscles. It took a phenomenal amount of effort, but somehow I managed to stagger to my feet. Just like any moment in the fighting ring, I reminded myself—but this time, if I failed, it was more than just one fight at stake.
Then I moved forward, putting one foot in front of the other. Debris was strewn across the steps, and the broken bits of concrete and dust crunched under my shoes. As I climbed, bigger obstacles cluttered my path, and I clambered over broken pillars and slipped on slanted tile.
Before me, my eyes took in a scene of carnage, smoking fires and rubble dispersed across the landing. The bannisters up here had been completely ripped away, and a few of the columns had been blown out of position. Some had fallen in massive, broken pieces to the floor, while others clung tenuously to the ceiling, bereft of their lower halves. The stairs seemed to have retained the integrity of a metal structure beneath the cracked tiles, but they wobbled alarmingly at times.
I took in a sharp breath, then regretted it as I realized there were bits of human bodies everywhere, too charred to fully recognize whom they belonged to. I stepped over the blackened husk of a body, searching, my eyes seeing everything except the one person I was looking for—Violet.
There was no sign of her here, and there were a thousand other places she could be. I looked back at the scorched body and then away again, not willing to acknowledge the possibility that it could be her. I redoubled my effort, moving bits of debris where I could and peering behind other massive ones when I couldn’t.
I found her lying behind a toppled column, on her stomach, her left arm reached out, her right folded under her in an awkward manner. Heart in my throat, I gently turned her over, wincing when I saw her condition.
Her face was covered in grime, and bright red blood trickled from her nose and her ears, as well as from a jagged gash running down her face. Chunks of her hair were gone, the charred ends indicating the heat of the blast was responsible. I could see blisters starting to form on her neck and leading down the left side of her chest, disappearing under the charred remains of her shirt. Her right wrist hung at an incredibly improbable angle, and the bandage around the same hand was filthy. Her left hand was coated in blood as well, though it looked like only from a slight cut.
My fingers found their way to her throat, pressing against the blistered flesh there. I tried to calm my breathing enough to feel a pulse beyond the pounding in my own veins, but there was nothing under my fingertips. Not even a weak bump for me to interpret. I moved my fingers and tried again, but Violet remained eerily still, her body unmoving.
No. I moved my hand over her chest, over her heart, and waited for something, anything, that would tell me she was still alive. Warm skin over empty stillness—nothing was beating in her chest. My eyes burned as I stared at her, unable to process the lack of a heartbeat. Despite the grime and blood on her face, she looked as though she could be sleeping, her face perfectly relaxed and still.
When it hit me, I screamed, my fury bellowing out across the landing. “Violet!” I shouted, shaking her limp form, unwilling to accept the truth. Her head lolled back and forth with a sickening resemblance to a rag doll, and I felt tears burning behind my eyes as I held her still form.
Not again, not again, not again, I thought as I clutched her to me, rocking her back and forth. The old, deep guilt got ahold of me, one that twisted in my gut as Miriam’s face flashed in my mind. I crushed Violet’s limp form to my chest, my head bowed, breathing in tight spasms, as if I could somehow pass my life force on to her. If I could, I would. I would do anything to stop this feeling, this aching hollowness growing larger again, swallowing Violet into the void that said my life had always been destined for this… that there was nothing, nothing I could do to save them. To save her.
In my mind, I knew I had to accept this. Accept this, and move on. But my heart railed against this fact, violently.
I listened to it. Years ago, I hadn’t, but this time… I had to. It wasn’t an impulse. It was an obsession. It didn’t matter what logic told me—I couldn’t give up on her.
My eyes snapped open, and I gently laid Violet down again. I tipped her head back, squeezing two fingers against her throat to clear her airway. Pressing my hands together over her chest, I began pushing against it, the life-saving training I’d had as a warden filling my head. The rhythm was natural—a series of quick compressions, and then I reached down, pinching her nose and blowing air from my lungs into hers.
“You have to live, baby,” I growled to her under my breath as I pumped and then blew again. “I can’t go on without you.” Blow. “I won’t.” Another breath. “I can’t.” Breathe.
And so I went on, begging her to come back to me, hoping to find her still somehow clinging to life. I reasoned with her, reminding her that we still had so much to do together. When that didn’t work, I shouted, hoping my anger would spark something in her.
I was frantic, desperate, on the verge of truly giving up—when Violet made a tiny cough, sucked in a deep breath of air, and then started coughing in earnest. Hope bolted through me like electricity. I helped her roll to her side, gently rubbing her back as she choked down lungful after lungful of air—as she continued to breathe, c
ontinued to live.
She hacked a few more times and then turned over on her back, her eyelids fluttering. Her eyes focused on me for a moment, and I saw that one of her pupils was blown, while blood surrounded the gray cornea of the other. She looked at me blankly for a second, and I realized she must be having problems focusing.
“Viggo?” she asked, her voice husky and barely audible, more of a croak.
I resisted the urge to stroke her face, her neck, her body—I wasn’t sure how extensive her injuries were—but it was hard. I wanted so badly to feel her living body against mine. As gently as I could, I reached out and took her left hand, squeezing slightly on two fingers that weren’t injured. “Yes. It’s me.”
She smiled then, her gaze dazed and unfocused, and I felt her grimy hands weakly trying to grip my fingers. “Knew you’d come,” she wheezed.
“You invited me,” I replied.
“I didn’t…” she whispered, her smile fading. “That… Tabitha… She—”
“Don’t know, don’t care—we gotta get you out of here.” I carefully slipped my arms under her, taking care not to jostle her too much. But I winced when she took in a deep, painful breath, her pale skin growing whiter, almost ashen. “I’m sorry,” I whispered as I gathered her up as gently as I could.
“S’okay,” she replied. Her eyes drifted closed for a moment, and I took the opportunity to stand up. I had started walking, picking my way cautiously down the stairs, when her eyes snapped back open and she shifted slightly in my arms. “Wait,” she breathed. “Can’t forget.”
“Forget what, Violet? We have to get out of here.” I kept my voice gentle, but I didn’t want to wait—I only wanted her safe.
“Button,” she whispered, her eyelids fluttering again. She licked her lips and swallowed. Her hand shifted feebly on her stomach, and I looked at where it was working toward one of the buttons. My frown intensified as I examined it, not understanding. Her gaze focused, and her look was fierce. “Camera. Plan.” Her enunciation was clear and concise, and I could see the intense amount of energy she must be expending to get it out.
I didn’t have time to think about what she was saying now. I just nodded at her, and she went slack again, some of the tension leaving her. We kept on down the stairs. Everything could be all right for now, but who knew who else was coming to investigate the damage…
“Viggo?” Violet’s voice came softly again. I looked at her to see that she was looking at me expectantly.
“You should rest,” I chided her gently, and she smiled at me.
“Marry me?”
I froze and gazed down at her. Staring directly at me, her eyes had become focused and sharp again. I couldn’t speak for a moment; amidst all the chaos around us, that had been what she was thinking about?
“Baby,” I choked, looking into her eyes and hoping she could see all the warmth her question had brought me, “I’m not going anywhere. You already said yes. You’ve got to rest now. We’ll talk about it more later, I promise.”
“Now,” Violet murmured, staring straight back up at me. “It’s important. Didn’t… want to wait…”
“Okay,” I said soothingly, unable to stop myself from smiling. Violet blinked slowly and gave a satisfied smile; then she exhaled a slow breath, her eyes rolling back into her head before she went completely limp in my arms.
My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly lowered myself down onto one knee and checked her pulse again, relieved to feel her heart still beating faintly under my fingers. She had just succumbed to unconsciousness, but if I didn’t get her to a doctor soon, she could very well die. She had a concussion, and who knew what else. I got back to my feet and managed to propel myself forward, trying to shake my dazed state and stay strong for Violet.
I had almost reached the second-story landing when Owen appeared, making his way from the stairs below, rifle in his hands. He took a look at Violet, then at me, and his eyes bulged with concern.
He took a step forward and I pulled her tighter to me, an irrational surge of protective instinct guiding me. Biting his lip, he lowered the gun and gave me a confused, imploring look. “Is she… Is she okay?”
I shook my head, shifting her slightly in my arms. “We need a doctor,” I said, hating how hoarsely my voice came out.
He nodded, his head bobbing jerkily up and down. “Right. Car’s downstairs, and the coast is still clear. Let’s go.”
I followed him down the stairs and through the halls to where we had left Ashabee’s battered little car. Owen pulled open the passenger door for me and I carefully folded myself in, cradling Violet the entire time, arranging her limbs gently until she was situated on my lap with her head on my shoulder. Owen carefully closed the door and then came around to the driver’s side, opening it up.
“Let’s hope the doctor we got for Henrik is still there when we get back,” he said tensely, as he adjusted the rearview mirror and checked the area around us.
I shook my head. “No—need one closer. Too far.”
Owen nodded tightly and turned the engine over. It sputtered a few times, but caught, and within moments he was reversing from the hall down the stairs, taking it as slowly as possible so as not to jostle Violet’s unconscious form too much.
I didn’t notice our surroundings—my attention was completely and utterly on Violet as we made our way out of the smoking and gutted remains of King Maxen’s palace, leaving it behind in the dwindling sunlight. There might have been chaos in the courtyard, but I let Owen’s driving handle it, looking down at the lovely, soot-stained face beneath me as if it were the last time I would get to.
“Please don’t die,” I whispered against her hair.
Violet gave no response, except the one thing that gave me hope: she kept breathing.
Ready for the next part of Violet and Viggo’s story?
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed The Gender War.
As I usually mention, if you did enjoy it, I would be grateful if you could leave a short review on Amazon (even if it’s just a sentence or two, you’ll make an author very happy). :)
I’m also excited to announce that the next book in the series: Book 5, THE GENDER FALL releases March 31st, 2017 .
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I’ll meet you back in Matrus and Patrus on March 31st 2017…
Love,
Bella x
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Also by Bella Forrest
THE GENDER GAME
The Gender Game (Book 1)
The Gender Secret (Book 2)
The Gender Lie (Book 3)
The Gender War (Book 4)
The Gender Fall (Book 5)
A SHADE OF VAMPIRE SERIES
Series 1: Derek & Sofia’s story
A Shade of Vampire (Book 1)
A Shade of Blood (Book 2)
A Castle of Sand (Book 3)
A Shadow of Light (Book 4)
A Blaze of Sun (Book 5)
A Gate of Night (Book 6)
A Break of Day (Book 7)
Series 2: Rose & Caleb’s story
A Shade of Novak (Book 8)
A Bond of Blood (Book 9)
A Spell of Time (Book 10)
A Chase of Prey (Book 11)
A Shade of Doubt (Book 12)
A Turn of
Tides (Book 13)
A Dawn of Strength (Book 14)
A Fall of Secrets (Book 15)
An End of Night (Book 16)
Series 3: The Shade continues with a new hero…
A Wind of Change (Book 17)
A Trail of Echoes (Book 18)
A Soldier of Shadows (Book 19)
A Hero of Realms (Book 20)
A Vial of Life (Book 21)
A Fork of Paths (Book 22)
A Flight of Souls (Book 23)
A Bridge of Stars (Book 24)
Series 4: A Clan of Novaks
A Clan of Novaks (Book 25)
A World of New (Book 26)
A Web of Lies (Book 27)
A Touch of Truth (Book 28)
An Hour of Need (Book 29)
A Game of Risk (Book 30)
A Twist of Fates (Book 31)
A Day of Glory (Book 32)
Series 5: A Dawn of Guardians
A Dawn of Guardians (Book 33)
A Sword of Chance (Book 34)
A Race of Trials (Book 35)
A King of Shadow (Book 36)
An Empire of Stones (Book 37)
A Power of Old (Book 38)
A Rip of Realms (Book 39)
A Throne of Fire (Book 40)
A SHADE OF DRAGON TRILOGY
A Shade of Dragon 1
A Shade of Dragon 2
A Shade of Dragon 3
A SHADE OF KIEV TRILOGY
A Shade of Kiev 1
A Shade of Kiev 2
A Shade of Kiev 3
BEAUTIFUL MONSTER DUOLOGY
Beautiful Monster 1
Beautiful Monster 2
The Gender Game 4: The Gender War Page 31
