The Warrior - Initiation Driven Subversive Redemption Justice

by Rebecca Royce

  On his knees, with his hands tied behind him, was Keith, his face swollen. One of his eyes could barely open as he stared forward.

  “No. No. No.” I stood up, dropping Chad’s hand. They couldn’t have Keith. That meant they’d gotten our people. They’d found them.

  “Please tell them what I asked you to say, Mr. Endover.” Icahn smiled when he spoke. I wanted to punch him in the face until I broke his nose, until I shattered his skull. I wanted his blood on my hands. How dare they harm Keith?

  My former teacher remained silent, his one open eye rising to stare at the camera. He blinked rapidly and my heart broke. This had to be destroying him. Icahn would pay for this, probably at Keith’s own hands.

  “Say what I told you to say or the child goes outside and meets the Vampire.”

  Chad darted to his feet. “He’s threatening his kid? The man is a monster.”

  We all knew this but Icahn found new and interesting ways to remind us about it all the time.

  Keith swallowed. “He’s found us here. They came in like a swarm of bees. We never stood a chance. Not really.” A bead of sweat traveled down Keith’s forehead until it hit the ground. “You need to turn yourselves in to him here at Redemption. Right now, everyone is alive but they are not likely to remain okay for very long. He will kill one of our citizens each hour, starting tomorrow at nine a.m., until every last Warrior is here under his command or all the hostages are dead.”

  Chad ran from the room. As he called over his shoulder to me, his voice sounded strained. “I have to get to Dad. Find out what we’re going to do.”

  “Go.”

  My heart rate picked up. Keith had delivered his message and yet Icahn still smiled at the camera like a man who had just won a golf game.

  He stepped forward. “Very good, Mr. Endover. And now, to show I mean what I say and the days of me treating all of you with kid gloves are over, I’m going to prove I’m a man of my word.”

  With one swift movement, he grabbed Keith by the back of the head, exposing his neck. The other hand held an object. It took me a second to identify what I looked at but then I realized. It was some kind of knife.

  Life seemed to slow down while I watched what happened next. My vision tunneled and I might as well have been in the room with them. Icahn raised the knife. Suddenly I could see every detail of it: how long and sharp the blade appeared, the black-as-coal handle. The way Icahn’s hands never shook.

  He ripped through Keith’s skin like it was nothing to do so, slitting his throat so completely the man I had looked up to every second since I’d opened my eyes in this new world died without uttering a sound.

  Blood poured from his neck and, much as it shamed me, I had to look away. Tears fell from my eyes. Shouts and screams filled the air outside my rooms. My knees gave out and I sank to the floor.

  No. I shook my head. That hadn’t just happened. It couldn’t have. Not possible.

  Yet, I’d never been a girl for denial. That was a gift I hadn’t been given. I looked up at the screen. Icahn uttered some more words but I didn’t care what they were. He’d just taken Keith from me, from Keith’s wife and child, from all of us who loved and counted on him. I’d never be able to tell him his letter had touched me and pissed me off at the same time, much less tease him for writing such a thing. The letter had really been what he’d said it was, a good-bye, but not a temporary one.

  Instead, it was the kind that meant forever.

  I stared at the screen. Soon, Icahn would be done with his bloody display and I wanted to memorize every movement he made so I could play it over and over in my head when I watched him die.

  I fisted my hands like I could do the job right then and there. My gaze shifted and I stared instead at Deacon. His mouth hung open while he looked down at Keith. In that split second, I knew he hadn’t been told ahead of time what was to happen. Darren, either. His usually jovial expression had fallen and, in its place, genuine horror remained.

  The screen went black.

  Keith is dead.

  Keith is dead.

  Keith is dead.

  I started to scream. I’m not sure how long I did before Chad burst through the door. “Rachel.”

  His arms wrapped around me and I tried to push him away. The last thing I wanted right now was to be touched. Still, he wouldn’t let go. I struggled and he held on until finally I ceased.

  “I’m sorry.” He kissed me all over my face. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I didn’t think he’d kill Keith. I didn’t think.”

  I nodded. “Chad. This isn’t your fault. You can’t take it on. He would have died if you’d been here with me or hadn’t.”

  When I pulled back this time, he let me. I wiped at my eyes. “What’s the plan?”

  “It’s chaos out there. Dad is trying to get everyone cooled down to make one. Your mom is on her way over here.”

  “Right.” My mind turned back to the scene I’d just witnessed. Keith is dead. I had to push the thought away. At least, for now. Or I’d never be able to get through the night. Still, I could see the blood. And Deacon and Darren’s faces.

  I looked up at Chad. “I think he’s made a terrible, terrible tactical error.”

  “What do you mean?”

  My instinct was to run. To turn from the room and go to Redemption alone. I could face Icahn. I could get done what had to be done. But I’d promised not to. I had people here, smart, capable, tough people who could only make things better if I could get them on my side.

  I wasn’t sixteen years old anymore, with a father who was considered a traitor. I’d become Rachel Clancy, eighteen, a woman and a full-fledged Warrior. They were going to listen to me because I wasn’t going to give them any choice.

  “He’ll take your mother next. Or Tia. Something to slam at your father.”

  Chad’s eyes hooded. He nodded. “I know.”

  “We have to be over there before then. I need your dad. Now.”

  ***

  We’d planned into the early morning light. It would take an hour to get to Redemption if we walked fast so, at six a.m., Patrick sent us all home with instructions to take an hour nap and get back to him by seven-thirty.

  I didn’t expect to sleep but when I lay down next to Chad, with Keith’s last expression haunting me, oblivion did overtake me.

  But it wasn’t blackness from life I got. No, instead I dreamed.

  I stood on a cliff. Behind me, beautiful snow-capped trees blew gently in the wind. I should be cold, as I wore only a black evening gown. But it was a dream so I didn’t feel the frigid air.

  “Hey, pixie-girl.”

  I hadn’t heard Jason’s voice in six months. I’d never expected to hear it again—like Keith’s—yet he sounded exactly as I remembered him.

  Dressed in the tuxedo he’d worn to the prom. His shirt was untucked. His hair had long since stopped appearing neat. He reached forward and handed me a rose.

  “You look gorgeous.”

  I remembered my gown. I’d worn it to Jason’s dance. I had looked good that night. Spaghetti straps, long, and backless.

  “Thanks. I always liked this look on you. Not quite put together but still gorgeous.”

  “Really?” He grinned. “I didn’t know. I’d have worn it all the time.”

  “Right.” I walked to the edge and looked down at the valley below. At best I was talking to my ex-boyfriend in a dream. At worst, I’d somehow conjured a ghost. Either way, I didn’t feel scared.

  “What would happen if I jumped down there?”

  “It’s not your time to know yet.”

  “But it’s coming.” I said aloud to Jason what I wouldn’t let myself utter in real life. The one thing about my dead Werewolf boyfriend was he didn’t argue. If something sucked, he let me say it and didn’t try to tell me all would be well.

  “Those answers are above my pay grade.”

  “Right.” I turned to stare at him. “So why tonight? I haven’t seen, dreamed, or envisio
ned you in six months. Why tonight? Keith’s death bring you out of the woodwork to come visit me?”

  “This is your dream, babe.” He sat down, his legs dangling over the edge, and I moved next to him. “Why did you need me tonight?”

  “Keith is dead.” The snow drifted down on our heads. “We’re going to war. They listened to me, and I think my plan might work. A lot of variables, but maybe.”

  “You’re really smart. Your ideas are as likely to be good as anyone’s.”

  “Thanks.”

  This was the Jason I had loved. The quiet moments, the way he made me feel safe. None of it had been real. I’d not been safe in the world—I knew that now—and I’d not been safe with him. But even so, I’d liked how this felt.

  “You’re welcome. So why me, then? Sounds like you have it all under control.”

  “No idea.” The wind blew at me again. I’d been with Jason on a night like this one. We’d gone together through the woods, making our way to his pack, escaping the Vampires. His father had….

  I stared at him. “It’s not you I need.”

  Jason’s smile was sad. “I know, pixie-girl. But thanks for the visit anyway.”

  ***

  I sat up in the bed. Next to me, Chad shifted, his eyes opening. “Is it time already?”

  I looked at the clock. “No. We’ve only slept half an hour.”

  “Go back to sleep. You need the full hour.”

  “Can’t.” I got out of bed. “There’s an element to this we forgot. Something very important.”

  Chad rubbed at his eyes. Normally, I loved it when he did. I wanted to crawl back into bed and snuggle for a while until he woke up. Right now, however, I needed him alert and with me in the moment.

  “Andon Kenwood.”

  This made him sit up straight. “Wolf-boy’s father?”

  Jason and Chad had never been friends. They’d both desired me. So had Deacon but, somehow, Chad had gotten past it with him and they’d since managed to be civil. Maybe because he’d known I never had those feelings for Deacon. Not for very long, anyway.

  Sometime, I’d ask him.

  “Yes.”

  “What does he have to do with any of this? Are you delirious?”

  “He’s been Icahn’s captive for six months. He does not want to be there. They are forcing him to work on formulas, or something. I don’t know or care about the science. He’ll help us.”

  “He’s just as likely to tear your throat out. His son died saving you.” Chad stood up before gathering his weapons together.

  “Yes. He might.” There was a distinct possibility Andon might take off my head. “First, however, I’m going to convince him he wants Icahn dead.”

  “You’d have to get to him.”

  “I know. And that’s where you’re going to come in.”

  Chad stopped moving and stared at me. “You’re serious about this? We have a whole plan set up—you designed it, and it’s ready to go—and you want to change everything.”

  I took him in my arms. “No. I want to do this and the original plan, at the same time.”

  “Should I be grateful you’re not running off to do this alone?”

  “No.” I kissed him, drawing in his scent. It might be the last time I got to. “I’m not leaving anymore. You’re my family. I stay with you.”

  “I want you to really be mine.”

  “Honey, I’m as much yours as I could ever be.” If he didn’t remember, something had gone wrong with his head.

  “I want it legal.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. “When we get back, I’ll marry you.”

  Chad fell silent. The eruption of glee I expected didn’t happen. “You really think we’re all going to die.”

  He knew me so well.

  Chapter Five

  “We’re here, Icahn.” Patrick called out, using the megaphone to make himself heard. “But we’re not coming in all at once. You’re going to release one hostage for every one of us. One at a time.”

  Icahn answered, using the loudspeaker on the outside of Redemption. “That is not the deal.”

  “Well, this is the only way anything happens. If you truly intend to let them go, you should have no problem with this.”

  Horrible events shouldn’t take place on such beautiful days. The sun shone; there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Shouldn’t it be cold and rainy?

  Patrick turned to me. “You’re sure you can do it? Get in and out.”

  “I’m absolutely certain.”

  “Good.” He picked up the megaphone again. “So what’s it going to be, Icahn?”

  “We will agree to this because I am fair-minded and reasonable.”

  I rolled my eyes. Patrick pointed at Micah. “You are going to make a huge scene. The biggest of your life.”

  “I can manage it.”

  Chad pulled me up against him. “Don’t die.”

  “You, too.”

  He shook his head, amusement unwarranted for this situation beaming from his brown eyes. “Been there. Done that.”

  I pinched him. “Not the time.”

  “I’m not sorry.”

  I sighed, kissing him. “I know.”

  Patrick’s voice boomed out again. “Send out the hostage.”

  Nothing happened for a few moments and then Glen and Tia’s little boy staggered outside. He was two. I gasped. Icahn was sending the toddler outside by himself?

  In typical fashion for a terrified child, he turned around, stopped moving, and broke down in hysterical tears. I jumped forward and my mother grabbed my arm. “Micah’s got it. If you’re doing this insanity, do it.”

  Micah ran forward, picking up the baby in his arms. “Hey, buddy, Uncle’s got you. You’re okay.”

  “I don’t see my Warrior.” Icahn’s voice carried over the speaker, annoyance evident in his every word.

  “I’m coming. You send out my nephew without either of his parents and you’re going to have to wait one goddamned minute while I make sure he’s fine.”

  He didn’t turn to look at me but the cursing spoke volumes. He was making his scene. Micah wouldn’t have the slightest idea whether his nephew needed care or not. Much better to pass him on and get with it. Except they were giving me time.

  I took off running. Rounding the corner, I came toward Redemption through the back. They had the whole place under video surveillance, which was why it should have been such a good fit for us to hide our people here.

  Keith is dead.

  I blinked, pushing the thought away. I couldn’t dwell on it now. The best thing I could do for my former teacher would be to not freak out, not lose it, and follow through so I could safely get his friends and family out of Icahn’s hands.

  Make it work, Rachel.

  I knew Keith hadn’t uttered those words, but he might as well have. The back entrance would be too obvious. I intended to come in through the side tunnel. I hoped—and if I happened to be wrong, I’d be dead—no one knew about this way except me. My months of exploring this place, in preparation for blowing it up, would serve me well.

  In fact, I had every confidence I could get inside with no trouble whatsoever. What happened once I’d accomplished my task was an entirely different problem.

  The window well I needed to crawl through was in front of me. I got down on my hands and knees and crept forward until I reached the window. It swung inside when I pushed on it. With a bit of manipulation, especially around my rather large rear area, I managed to get myself inside.

  I knew I hadn’t been overeating but getting through the window proved harder now than it had been six months earlier. It had to be muscle. I’d lost most of my power and definition when I’d lived here. Although staring at my own body had never been my favorite pastime, I’d noted my muscle tone had come back. Maybe my hips were just bigger.

  Focus, Rachel.

  Keith’s voice again. I didn’t know if I liked or hated in my head. I had enough going on. Hearing him constituted a visceral reminde
r of exactly how much pain I could live with if given no other choice.

  But the crazy part of me that created his voice in my consciousness—I really couldn’t deal with the idea that he was somehow communicating with me from the grave—wanted me to focus. So, I would somehow keep my thoughts where they belonged.

  I crawled through the tunnel knowing I would come out in what had been an empty office. Spider webs and dust covered my body. I rubbed at my nose, hoping I didn’t spread the mess everywhere. I wondered if it was possible to wash all the dirt from my body, not just the kind now coating me on the outside. What was I to do about the large collection caked on my soul?

  Where were Keith’s wise words on that subject?

  Keith is dead.

  Yes, I knew that. I was acutely aware.

  ***

  Leaning up against the office door, I forced myself to be still and listen. The first rule of hidden assault had to be silence. If I burst through the door like gangbusters and found myself face-to-face with a hallway full of Icahn’s cronies, I wouldn’t be helping anyone.

  Rachel Clancy, killed by a mass mob because she didn’t shut up and listen.

  If I was going to die, it couldn’t be because I had done something dumb, something avoidable. I closed my eyes. When they were open, the noise of everything I thought about all the time crowded me so completely I couldn’t make sense of anything. With them closed, however, I could hear.

  Nothing. Not even a whisper of a sound in the hall. I opened my lids. The crowd was probably all on the other side of the complex. Icahn would need to restrain our people. Glen would not have gone down easily and, with Keith gone, Tiffani would be a mess. Who knew about Tia? My friend Teddy, a non-Warrior, would have put up a good fight. But the group of people who could fight still had all the children to contend with. Even if Icahn and his goons were scary to grown-ups, that many kids meant someone would be wailing. I’d hear something.

  If a baby got hungry, a baby screamed.

  Since I heard nothing, I could take a chance there was nothing in the hall. The door creaked open. I slid my head through the small space and looked. I could hear my heart in my ears.