“I'm going to do this whether you want me to or not. We have to make plans for things to expand. I don't know if we should do that here or elsewhere, but we're never going to know unless we go and view the sites. I'm a grown man. If Icahn hadn't done this to us, I'd have been in the Air Force, as you know.”
“Well, you would have tried.” Patrick shook his head, and I winced at what he said. That was rough.
“You know what? I'm not a loser because I wasn't born to be Chad. I'm going. I'm a grown man. If you want to lock me up to keep me here, then you can go right ahead.”
Patrick darted to his feet. “It was bad enough when Deacon was with you. At least I knew you'd have help. How are we going to know what happens to you?”
Micah looked down at his feet then back up at Patrick. “I guess you'll have to trust me to come back. I suppose if I don't, you can go ahead and assume I'm dead.” He turned on his heel and stormed toward the tent entrance, stopping abruptly before he came to me. “I'm finishing your ink before I leave. Be ready.”
My ink? Oh, the tattoo on my back. I'd almost forgotten. “You okay?” I touched his arm.
He shook his head. “No. But someday I will be. I'm determined, end of story.”
“Where are you going?”
He smirked. “Nowhere where you can come. You're here now, brother. And that's as it should be. I've got my own shit to work out. I haven't found my person yet, and I might not ever. The walls of these tents… they squeeze me in. I can't explain it.”
“I understand. And you don't have to explain. Not to me, not to anyone. Be careful.”
He nodded. “Not done with me yet, Deacon. I'm finishing that ink. Good luck with my Dad. Whatever he wants to say to you must be serious if he dragged Tiffani out to be here.”
That's what I worried about, too. I walked past him. I was really going to miss the fuck out of Micah and that wasn't something I would have believed even a year ago. I'd talk to him later. For now, I had to figure out what his father wanted from me.
Patrick pointed at the door. “From the moment he came into the world, that boy had to do things his own way.”
Tiffani sighed. “And what bothers you about that? That he's more like you than his mother? You may have ended up becoming upstanding but that's not how you started, right? Didn't you tell Keith about being saved by the Armed Forces yourself before the FBI? Or am I making that up?”
I only followed part of that. Still, I felt compelled to stick up for Micah. “You get he's amazing, right? He got us help at Geronimo. He saved my ass a bunch of times. He cares about people who maybe aren't in a good place to be cared about. Give him a break.”
Patrick steepled his hands, and the muscle ticked in his jaw. “See?” He spoke to Tiffani. “We're right. I'd never be able to kick him out of a room.”
“I'm on board.” She nodded.
They were obviously talking about me, but I didn't have a clue about what. I was over this conversation already.
“Want to fill me in, or did you call me in here to speak in code?”
Patrick sat back in his seat. “Oh, I see we've gotten your back up. Tone it down. You're not under attack and neither is Micah, believe it or not. Someday you'll be a parent trying to keep your kids alive. He terrified me in before time, too. Doesn't matter now. Basic thing here, Deacon, is that Tiffani and I want you to take over Keith's job teaching the Warriors and his seat on the council, too.”
I couldn't have been more stunned if Patrick had grown wings and flown out of the room. My heart pounded in my ears. I took a deep breath then another one.
“Deacon?” Tiffani's tone was calming. “You're not going to puke are you?”
I laughed, covering my eyes with my hand for a second. “No, I'm good in that regard. I'm stunned. I'm not sure at all why you think this would be a good idea.”
Patrick smiled at me, a strange sight. He didn't do it often. “Look what you did in Geronimo. You taught people who had been living under the thumb of the Werewolves for generations to fight back. They were not given Icahn's special formula that lets us sense the beasts. They didn't die and in under two weeks became pretty good fighters. Then you turned around, in a way no one has ever done, and burned an Alpha Werewolf to death. Not pretty but effective both in the killing and for morale. They're calling you the Alpha Killer out there.”
They were? I didn't want a nickname. They gave false impressions of bravado that I didn't have. “I didn't know that. Can we stop it?”
“I don't want to stop it.” Patrick stood. “I want it to grow. I want them to think of you like they do my daughter-in-law in the way she kept surviving and got Icahn killed. I want that, Deacon. It's good for us to have people like you around. Not to mention, you're a great teacher. Clearly. Say yes.”
Tiffani hadn't risen, but when she smiled, she caught my attention. “Not to mention, it took balls to come and see me like you did. That had to be hell, and you did it anyway. You don't shy away from the scary. Keith would want you to have this job. I know it. I can feel it in my heart. I teach them when they're young, you teach them when they're older. You sit on this council and tell Patrick to shove it sometimes.”
The aforementioned man sat down. “It has been pointed out to me by my son who just left that I am stuck in protection mode and not in helping the world develop into some place where people like you can have a life. We need new blood. We need you. It was always going to be the next generation that saved us.”
Tiffani started speaking again as soon as he stopped. “You wouldn't be fighting every night. Two nights a week, you're off. You'd be teaching in the evenings then going out with the newbies. That's not Keith's schedule, but it should have been. The new generation won't have our ability to sense monsters. You've already dealt with that. You were born to do this.”
They didn't have to sell me anymore. “You don't have to keep explaining. I… ah. I need to talk to Lydia. I promised to consider her in all decisions. Big ones, anyway.”
Patrick nodded. “Let us know in an hour.”
“All right.” This was such a bizarre turn of events. Were they out of their minds?
Eighteen
I was on the way toward my tent when I felt Werewolves. I stopped moving, letting the power of the signal move through me. A madman gave me the ability to tell when there were monsters near. His reasons remained a mystery to me. But then again, the hows and whys of Isaac Icahn made little sense to me. Maybe he'd been afraid that someday his creations would turn on him and he would need us to save him.
Or maybe it was all a sick twisted game.
In any case, they were here. I was tired—physically and emotionally. It didn't matter. It would always be my job to take care of things when the monsters came. I felt for my machete on my back, glad to find it there. I never went without it. Still, someday I might be sloppy. Anything could happen.
I turned and moved toward where the monster signal felt the strongest. Chad had once called us human monster detectors. Whatever that meant.
I hurried up. The pained feeling was more severe the closer I got to the bar. I sighed. Again? Maybe the Werewolves wanted a drink.
Chad ran up next to me. “I was out to see if I could procure another blanket for Rachel.”
“What happened to her old blanket?”
“She gets really cold at night.”
Didn't we all? I'd have tried to find a blanket for Lydia, too. It was called loving someone, and since I'd stumbled head first into that experience, I finally understood it. I had to put her needs before mine like I had to breathe.
We both stumbled to a stop. I wished the moon wasn't so bright in the early night sky. I wished I couldn't see as clearly as I did. My Warrior powers made night vision easier on me. I'd have preferred to be blind.
My family and everyone else who had been in the now shredded bar were in front of us, surrounded by Werewolves. Five of them. I made myself think. Checking the surrounding, I didn't see any Alpha watching. They mi
ght not have replaced him yet. This was probably five pissed off members of the pack I'd made Alpha-less. They either knew they had my family or they were just lucky. Not that it mattered. If the people inside had been strangers, I'd have still wanted to save them.
I turned to Chad. “I know this is asinine, sending you off right this second but two people aren't going to get this done. We need help. I'll distract them.”
He looked to argue then turned to run. I took a deep breath. Five Werewolves. Untrained civilians and me. It sounded like the start of a great song. If only I had a guitar and some alcohol and knew how to play.
I stepped forward. “Hey, Furry Guys. I think you don't want to bother these people. What you really want is me.”
They all turned to face me and one-by-one, growled loudly. “That's right. It's me.”
“Deacon,” my mother cried out. I ignored her. They weren't equipped for this. I had to get the Wolves away from them.
There was a table outside for when the weather was more pleasant. I climbed onto it. The Wolves had started to play with the people here. I fucking hated that.
“Listen up, my name is Deacon Evans. If you haven't already met me then I am a Warrior, and I am here to help you. Also, I killed their Alpha, and they're all a little sore about it. Too bad he was such a weakling. He might still be here right now, right fellows?”
The Werewolves turned, almost as one, and charged me. I swung my machete, taking off the head of the first one. Sacrificial Wolf, the others wouldn't be so easy to take care of. I stepped back, nearly falling off the table.
My mother screamed again. I really hoped she wasn't about to become maternal and try to help. This required she stay back.
“Okay.” I'd never tried to have a real conversation with anyone while I did this. Snide remarks maybe, but not giving directions. “I need you to run. Turn and go now. You're a distraction.”
I sliced, missed, and back-flipped off the table.
“Got it, Deacon.” Chad was back and next to him was his wife. Rachel laughed before she spun, taking off the head of another.
She was back in position. “I was bored. Better to have something to do. Otherwise I was going to spend the evening mending socks.”
Micah ran up from the woods. Maybe he'd been on patrol. “I thought I felt monsters over here. Who was on patrol?”
“We'll figure that out later.” I pointed to positions like they were on the clock. One. Six. Eight. They'd know what I wanted. We'd done this many times. They moved fast. I grabbed a bottle. Someone had been drinking something that smelled foul. I didn't mind an occasional binge, as I'd done earlier, but this stuff was bad. It would do.
I opened the top and threw it into the face of one Werewolf while I dodged out of the way. It howled. If I hated the smell, they hated it more. And damned if it didn't probably also burn the hell out of its eyes. My crew pounced.
I fell back against a chair. The Wolves were dead. I put my hands on my knees.
“Deacon?” My wife appeared, surrounded by three Warriors I didn't know that well. Someone had gotten her or she heard and they protected her? It mattered. I would find out who had left their post—either they were dead or clueless—and I'd find out why Lydia knew I'd been fighting and why she thought to come. I always wanted her company but not in fighting circumstances if she was going to step back from being a Warrior.
Either she participated, or she didn't. Half-in and we'd all be in trouble.
My mother rushed me, throwing her arms around me. I was so startled, I didn't move. Okay, a hug from my mom was… fine. She smelled like the alcohol I'd thrown at the Wolf.
When she finally let go, I squeezed her arm before I turned to my wife. “Patrick thinks I should take Keith's position. What do you think?”
I spoke loud enough she and everyone there could hear me. If anyone thought it was a bad thing, they should speak up.
“I think you'd be good at that. You taught all of Geronimo. I can't think of anyone better.”
No one said anything to the contrary.
I nodded, prepared to get out of the bar area. My bed was calling. Tonight was going to have to be a night off.
In the distance, bathed in moonlight, was a figure. Or… no… I squinted. What I saw wasn’t real. I was remembering a time when this had happened. Like when Brynna was around, the past had gotten mixed up in the present. Keith wasn't real, and I didn't believe in ghosts. Maybe he was a figment. In any case, for several seconds, I stared into the eyes of a man who would never live again. The cloning days were over. He wore his signature fighting outfit, black pants and a black sweatshirt. He nodded. Once. Then twice. Before he faded away.
He was only in my head. I knew that. But even if it was only my own psyche deciding I could do this, I believed him.
I walked forward, throwing my arms around Lydia. She embraced me. I was going to be a teacher.
Lydia wouldn't let me screw it up. That I could count on. The wind picked up. If I was going to take the night off, I had to get to it.
There never was real rest for a Warrior. Not when the moon was out.
For me, I believed in happiness. For the first time in my life. And it was all because of my wife… who had once tried to fight off a Werewolf with a stick.
She could have done it, if she'd had fire.
I sat on my knees and let Micah finish with his ink. He was leaving in hours. He wanted it done first. “What has Lydia told you about the eagle?”
“Nothing.” Why was he talking when I was working on not flinching from the pain? “It's an eagle.”
“You haven't tried to look?”
I took a deep breath. “If you have a point, get to it.”
“It's not just an eagle, it's an eagle with a broken wing. With the way I shaped the good wing, it's clear it's stretched in flight. It's an eagle with a broken wing that can still fly.”
Emotion swept through me, and I forced myself not to react outwardly. Was that how they all saw me? As an eagle that was slightly broken but could still fly. Lydia must have seen it—Micah's designs were always good—and she'd not told me. Maybe she'd wanted Micah to. Or she'd thought I wouldn't react well.
I swallowed, and in the way I communicated with Micah, most of the time, I replied. “Gee, Micah, thanks for the feels, man. That's all kind of deep.”
He groaned before he was quiet. “Anytime, man.”
Lydia came into the tent. “Finishing?”
“Last thing I have to do before I go.”
She sat down next to me. “We'll miss you.”
“I'll be back. Someday.”
We all had our journeys. I looked at Lydia, enjoying the way she brought peace to every room she was in. I'd had my journey, and it brought me Lydia then back home. If it was time for Micah's, then I wished him well.
“You know if you ever need me, I'll be there.”
He snorted. “I should think so. Especially after I saved your ass.” There was that.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard wolves howl. I didn’t know if they were the animals or the shifters. I supposed we’d find out. We'd all have to live to fight another day.
There would be a future. I was sure of that now. Day by day, it would unfold. Even a year ago, I couldn’t have imagined I’d be sitting here now… inked by my best friend, ready to teach new recruits to be Warriors, and looking at my wife.
For the first time ever, I was hopeful.
Ten years later...
* * *
I sat reading papers. Reports were coming in from the Genesis outposts much more frequently since Micah's system for passing information had been fully adopted. I liked what I saw. My trainees were fitting in and getting the job done fighting back the monsters. It had been risky—forcing the newbies to live elsewhere for two years to fight under Warriors in those locations. They were still learning in their first two years. Only, they'd never get better if they didn't get big battles.
Those were where the large fights happene
d. Besides, I checked on them four times a year. Micah would let me know if there was a problem.
“Like what you see?” I looked up at Margot. She'd come for the council meeting. She was the third seat on the Warrior council, elected earlier that year. It still shocked me, considering how badly her husband had been received a decade ago, that she'd gotten elected. Of course, I'd been the one to put her up for it, even though I hadn't believed she'd win. Margot had long since earned my trust.
I nodded. “Mostly, for a change.”
She sat down. “Good.”
“Are we set?” Chad burst through the door. He was always almost late. His three children kept him busy. The new baby was proving to be more than a handful. Three girls… as opposed to my three boys. Michael who was five, and the twins, Bruce and Fisher who were two. Lydia never ceased to amaze me with how she took care of everything and ran the very young children's care center.
“Yes,” Margot answered. “You can let the Warriors in.”
Like I'd conjured her by thinking of her, my wife poked her head in. “Hey, just wanted to say that you guys are going to want to address the elephant in the room. Are you taking new Warriors into the first year position at present or not? They're going to riot. It's all I hear about all day.”
I held out my hand, and she came over, leaning over to kiss me. I never got enough of her. I never would. Not ever. She and I were forever and ever.
“Stop making goo-goo eyes at your wife. She makes a valid point.” Chad rubbed his eyes. Yeah, he wasn't sleeping. “Micah wants more Warriors.”
I sighed. “I'm not making unqualified Warriors to fill his ranks. He's going to have to deal. His wife will have to talk sense to him.”
If anyone could… it would be Brynna. I’d known these people so long now it was hard to imagine that ten years earlier we didn’t know what was about to happen. That when Margot’s husband arrived everything would change forever. That Micah’s falling in love would shift the world.
Deacon (Warrior World Book 1) Page 21
