Strain of Vengeance
Bixby series book 3
Michelle Bryan
Copyright © 2018 by Michelle Bryan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design by Maria Spada
Edited by Rebecca Jaycox: [email protected]
Contents
Also by Michelle Bryan
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Michelle Bryan
The New Bloods Trilogy
Awaken
Ascension
Annihilation
The Waystation - a New Bloods novella
The Bixby Series
Grand Escape (Strain of Resistance Prequel)
Strain of Resistance
Strain of Defiance
Strain of Vengeance
The Legacy of Light series
A War For Magic
A War For Truth
A War For Love
To Bixby’s fans who love her when she isn’t the easiest person to love. Thank you.
Chapter One
The wind howls through the empty buildings and up the alleyway, gnawing at me with its frigid touch. It bites through my jacket, numbing my bones. My fingers are icicles, frozen stiff as I try moving them to get the blood flowing. But I don't care about that. The wind is nothing compared to the deep, bitter cold inside of me.
Zipping my coat to my chin to keep the icy wind off my neck, I peer down the alley to my right. Looks empty enough, but with only the pale moon above as a guide, I can’t be sure. York street lay beyond the alley. Our destination. The night will bring out the freaks, and the dark will soon be crawling with feral dogs and leeches. We should be inside before that happens. With everything we’ve been through lately, none of us are in prime fighting condition.
“Clear,” Mike calls from the other side of the alley, and I’m glad he makes the call. I don’t trust my own instincts.
“Jesus. It’s colder than a polar bear’s asshole tonight.”
My irritated glare pins Gordo as he falls in step beside me. I know what he’s trying to do—lighten the mood. There’s a pall of mourning hanging over our heads, a veil of sorrow, but this is not the time for his silliness. Not when so many of our people are at the mercy of the ravagers that attacked the Grand. Not when more of them will die with every moment it takes us to find them. But I don’t yell at him to leave me alone, not like I want to. I keep my irritation bottled inside and keep walking. One foot in front of the other. On and on. Trying desperately not to think of what may be happening to those I love. Trying not to hate myself so much for letting this whole fiasco happen and failing miserably. Blaming myself for my wrong choice in leaving that piece of shit cannibal alive.
Why didn’t I finish the job? Liv and Coop and all the others, dead because of my decision. My moment of weakness. My father always told me I was weak. Useless. I didn’t want to believe him. Mom begged me not to listen to him but looks like he was right all along. My only consolation? At least the bastard wasn’t around anymore for me to have to suffer through the condescending I told you so’s.
My annoyance is lost on Gordo as a hand falls on my shoulder. “I said it’s colder than a polar bear’s—"
“I heard what you said,” I snap.
He draws back like I tried to bite his fingers off.
“Geez, sorry for trying to cheer you up.”
“Cheer me up? Really?” My anger and grief take control of my mouth. “Like a stupid joke about a polar bear’s ass is going to help me forget the shit show we just left behind? Fuck off and leave me alone.”
The shock and hurt on his face only add to my self-hatred, and my sigh is heavy with guilt as he walks away from me. He throws a tiny, “sorry,” over his shoulder. I run a freezing glove over the back of my neck and bite my lip. He so did not deserve that. I ignore Dom’s muttered “bitch” as he passes by and the smug grin on his face. Not like he cares in the least about Gordo’s feelings.
He’s just happy I’ve proved his point about me once again, just like I always do. I fall back, glad for the gloom of the alley hiding the gaze of everyone who passes me, knowing full well they heard my comment to Gordon and judged it completely unnecessary. I bend down to avoid their disapproval, pretending to tie my boot as Luke and Robyn pass by. I don’t want to see the censure in his expression. I’ve seen enough of that already these past few weeks.
A set of boots as dirty as my own stop directly in front of me, and I glance up into smoky gray eyes.
“You need help?” Sam asks.
“With what? Tying my boot? Thanks, but I think I got this,” I growl.
“No, with getting your foot out of your mouth.” He tilts his head Gordo’s way. “You know better than to attack the group’s mascot. That was real low and uncalled for. It’s a good thing I know you don’t really mean it.”
He sticks a hand in my face, and I huff as I take his offer, and he pulls me upright.
“Tell me something I don’t know. I regretted it the moment it left my mouth. I don’t even know why I said it. If there’s anyone in this group that doesn’t deserve my nasty side, it’s the kid.”
We walk slow through the lane and hang back, in no hurry to catch up to the others. I know I can let my guard down with Sam and not be judged.
“Hey, we’re all feeling the same grief and pressure right now. We all lost people we loved. Gordo’s way to deal with it is to crack jokes. You, on the other hand, chose to reveal your inner bitch. Not that your inner bitch is any better than your outer bitch, but I understand that about you, even if the others don’t. You’re going to have to apologize to the kid. He’ll just tear himself up over it otherwise until you do.”
“Yeah, I know,” I mutter halfheartedly.
“And you’re going to have to let this bitterness go, else you’re going to piss off more of the group. We need to focus on the mission right now. I know we’re all suffering from exhaustion and shock, but if we’re going to find our people, we need to be a team.” He glances over at me in concern. “And you don’t look so good lately.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” I mutter.
He ignores my sarcasm. “Have you slept at all these past few days?”
“Been sleeping like a baby. These huge bags under my eyes?” I point to my face with a purple finger. “These are just for storing my extra underwear.”
“Bix,” he sighs, and I toss him an apologetic look.
“Sorry. Bitchy McBitch refuses to give up today.” I don’t mention the fact that the few hours Luke allotted us for rest since we left the Grand were spent awake and stewing in my guilt and grief. I’m sure Sam already knows that. “I’m just so frustrated. Eight days now and there’s been no sign of them. There must be some sort of fucking trail telling us which way they went, right? I mean, a hundred plus ravagers and the same n
umber of prisoners moving through the city must leave some trail behind. But so far, we’ve found nothing. No deserted campground or remnants of a firepit or bones—” I change my word, “debris of any kind. Nothing. It doesn’t make a lick of sense. They didn’t just disappear into thin air. They must be holed up somewhere. We need to find them and soon.”
His hand falls onto the small of my back, and I take comfort from the gesture. “We’ll find them, trust me. I know how you feel.”
“No, actually, Sam, you don’t know how I feel,” I whisper, so the others don’t overhear. “This is all my fault. Those ravagers never would have gone looking for the Grand if I had killed that crazy bastard of a leader from the get-go. But I was weak, and I let him live. I pretty much gave him an open invitation to our home. Coop, Liv, Kingsley, they’re all dead because of me. And the people they didn’t kill are in so much danger—” I can’t finish the sentence, my fear of admission stripping my breath away. I gulp in air, still fighting back tears. “I did this. All of it.”
“Christ, Bix, is that what you think?” Sam’s hand moves to my shoulder, spinning me to face him. “You think all this happened because of you? Are you nuts? All this happened because of that crazy ravager, not you. You loved Coop and Liv more than any of us. They were your family. You would never have done anything to harm them. Is that why you’ve been acting so damned weird?”
My laugh escapes as a snort, and I wipe my frozen nose with the back of my hand. “Acting weird? That’s rich coming from you.”
“But true. I’ve been wondering where the old, snarky, foul-mouthed Bixby went. You’ve been like a ghost this past week. You’ve lost your fight, like you’ve already given up.” He stares me straight in the eye. “Don’t you dare give up. We’re going to find them. All of them, alive and well. You hear me?”
“But what if we’re too late?” My fear turns the question into a squeak. “What if it’s too late for Amy?”
I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to stop the tears from falling. Sam’s hand leaves my shoulder, and he laces his fingers through mine.
“She’s still alive, Bix. I know it. I can feel it. She’s alive and waiting for us to find her. And we will. I promise you that.” He points his chin towards the front of the group and Luke. “Moose over there may not be my favorite person in the world, but if anyone can help us find our people, it’ll be him. He’s a pretty smart guy for being such an asshole.”
A sound escapes me, part laugh, part sob. “Yeah, he is.” I agree as I stare after Luke’s broad silhouette in the moonlight and wipe the corner of my eyes. “He’s a good man.”
An uncomfortable silence follows my remark. I guess singing Luke’s praises is not exactly the thing Sam wants to hear right now. I clear my throat to cover my unease as we start walking again.
“How are you, Sam?” I ask, breaking the strained silence. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy wallowing in my self-pity I haven’t given thought to anyone else. How are you feeling? Any… changes?”
His soft snort echoes in the alley. “If that’s your way of asking if I’m morphing into one of those creatures, then the answer is no. I feel fine, physically. No different at all. I haven’t even heard them in my head in a while. I guess that’s a good thing?”
“I guess so. But that still doesn’t get you off the hook, you know that right? Once we find everyone and this whole thing is over, you are still getting tests done. We need to know what’s happening to you.”
I keep my voice low. I don’t want the others overhearing. Besides Luke and me, no one else has seemed to question Sam’s possible infection. Nothing that we’ve heard out loud, anyways. Another flash of irritation erupts in my gut. This whole Sam thing should have been in Cooper’s hands right now. He would have known what to do. But Coop was gone because of my stupid decision, and I was left holding the pieces of this fiasco. My rightful punishment, I guess.
“I said I would, didn’t I?” Sam’s words are tight, as if he’s trying to hide his own irritation, and I throw him a sideways glance. Is he lying to me?
I don’t get to ask. Shuffling and yelling from up front are soon followed by that hated gurgling floating on the wind. They found leeches. I pull my knives and rush after them, almost glad to have something to take my anger out on.
I burst from the alley and straight into an advancing horde. I whirl at the phlegmy gurgling on my right and plunge my knife deep into the chin of what was once an elderly man as the vermin protruding from his mouth aims for my neck. Without thinking, my other knife dives straight for his heart, and I hit my target dead on. Yanking my knives back, I step over him as he falls at my feet, already heading for my next target. Again and again, I strike with deadly accuracy. My mind goes blank as instinct kicks in. There’s no thought to the leeches retaining humanity. No concern they feel pain. I’m consumed by the need to hurt and destroy. I felt if I didn’t vent my frustration and anger, I’d be swallowed whole by it.
I’m so blinded by my need for revenge, my senses so dulled from lack of sleep, Gordo’s “Bix, behind you!” is my only warning of danger. I pivot as the leech lunges at me. I leap out of its reach, but it collides with me mid jump and sends us both crashing into the side of a building. The back of my head connects with the crumbling brick, and starbursts explode in front of my eyes as pain radiates down my neck. The knife flies out of my right hand, clattering down the sidewalk. The creature hovering over me swims in and out of focus, and a scream tears from my throat as the leech bursts from its mouth in an explosion of black gore. Wetness splatters my face. With all the deadly intent of a viper, it aims for my neck. The sharp teeth tear into my coat collar—the only thing standing between it and my jugular. In desperation I slash at it with the remaining knife, but my vision is still blurry, and I barely nick the damn thing. My body jerks forward as the coat collar rips away, and I swear the thing spits the fabric out in contempt as it turns to finish what it started.
I stare into the thing’s muddy eyes as the big head blocks my vision, all traces of fight gone. My body is weak and I accept my fate, willing the creature to end it quickly.
Do it.
The leech is yanked back and falls head over heels as bullets obliterate it into a pile of bloody mush. I close my eyes, the roaring gunfire only intensifying the pain in my head. Just when I think it’s over, the shots start up again until I finally yell at my rescuer, “Enough, already. I think it’s dead.”
Lovely silence falls moments before gentle hands cup my face, lifting my chin to inspect my neck. A familiar scent tickles my nose, and I know who my rescuer is without opening my eyes.
“I’m okay, Luke. The collar foiled its dinner plans.”
“Christ, Bix. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” His voice is strained with concern.
“You and me both,” I mutter. “Are they all toasted?”
“They are, but the gunshots and blood will attract more. We need to get out of the street. Can you stand?”
I nod. Big mistake. Pain shoots through my skull, and I bite my lip as Luke pulls me upright. I sway a little, and he puts an arm around me to steady me. It takes all my resolve not to melt into his embrace where I feel safe. I so want to feel safe.
“Are you bleeding?” he asks as he runs his fingers over my head.
The gentleness in his tone rips at my heart. It’s been so long since I’ve heard that from him. I blame the tears springing to my eyes on his probing my wound, and I step out of his arms, sniffing and wiping at my nose before I lose it completely.
“It’s just a bump,” I say as the other’s come running and calling my name.
“You okay, Bix?” Sam reaches for me and pulls me into his arms with none of Luke’s hesitation, as if needing to reassure himself I’m still in one piece. I step back, giving him a nod of reassurance to ease his worry, even as my eyes flit to Luke. His earlier concern is already replaced by the usual mask of indifference I’m used to seeing lately. It rips another shred off my already tattered heart.<
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“Jesus, you nearly let one take you out,” Dom mutters, and I flip him the bird in response.
“Losing your touch, old woman.”
The last comment comes from Gordo, but the grin he flashes me is filled with relief, and I know he’s already forgiven me for my earlier disrespect. Guilt gnaws at me. I don’t deserve his forgiveness or his worry. Without another word, I step toward him and pull him into my arms.
“I’m sorry,” I say in his ear.
He quickly overcomes his surprise, hugging me back just as hard. “I know that.”
As I push off him, I punch him lightly in the shoulder. “Well then if you’re so smart, get off me and make yourself useful by finding my knife.”
“Holy Toledo,” Badger says in amazement, holding a hand to his chest in mock shock. “Did I just hear that right? Bix, you sure you’re okay? I’ve never seen you say you’re sorry to anyone. You must have hit your head real hard.”
I’m grateful for his distraction.
“Bite me, dickwad.”
He laughs. “There. That’s the Bix we know and love. Good to know you’re still yourself.”
“She’s fine,” Robyn interrupts impatiently, and I award her with my best scowl, but she’s not even looking my way. “We have other things to worry about than her hard head.”
I bite back my angry retort as I follow her gaze. She’s right. Highlighted at the end of the street by the bloated full moon is another shuffling horde of leeches. Much bigger than the one we just took down. They aren’t aware of us yet, but it won’t take them long to get our scent.
Strain of Vengeance (Bixby Series Book 3) Page 1
