Wings of the Walker: The Complete Walker Series

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Wings of the Walker: The Complete Walker Series Page 64

by Coralee June


  Slowly, ever so slowly, the light in Huxley's eyes returned as he realized that I was indeed okay. I assumed that he imagined the worst. "I've been pacing the floors all night," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm glad you're okay, but I have to admit that seeing you in Maverick’s shirt has me intrigued."

  A healthy blush covered my cheeks as I looked down at the floor. Although we established back in Ethros that my relationship with all of them was mutual, it was still embarrassing to say out loud with an audience listening in.

  Huxley scratched the back of his neck then looked at the Walker Companions still standing in the entryway, staring at us. They were watching our exchange with rapt attention, and I felt even more insecure under their scrutiny.

  Huxley wrapped his big hand around my wrist and pulled me upstairs, not giving the others a second glance as we escaped their curious stares. In Dormas, sharing a woman might be typical, but to the rest of the world, it was an unusual arrangement. And although a Companion might understand our dynamic more than others, there was still a judgmental way they viewed my relationship with my guys. I'm sure they thought I was just a glorified version of them, and no matter what I said, they wouldn't believe that there was more to this relationship than what the guys could offer me.

  At the top of the stairs, Kemper, Patrick, and Jacob were waiting. But Huxley didn't give me the chance to see them, he yanked me by, grumbling a "she's fine" before dragging me into his room and shutting the door.

  I wasn't sure what this was, but I didn't argue. "I promise I'm okay," I said once more.

  Huxley wrapped me in a big hug, squeezing me until I coughed. "I know I'm selfish right now. I'm not jealous. Well, I am."

  The door opened and in poured Kemper, Patrick, and Jacob. I should've known that they wouldn’t allow Huxley to hoard me to himself. My shirt had risen some, revealing my long legs and butt to them all.

  "What happened?" Kemper choked out. Huxley let go, and I turned around, adjusting my shirt. He was wearing pajama pants, hung low on his hips, and his light blond hair was wet as if he'd just showered.

  "I saw Cyler and Maverick, then spent the evening with Maverick," I rushed out, hoping they wouldn’t make me explain much further. Cyler once told me that the only way this would work was if we didn't keep secrets from one another. I knew that by diving into the deep end of my physical relationship with Maverick, I would have to be open to letting the others know.

  My eyes flashed to Patrick who was grinning at my disheveled appearance. "Did you and Maverick have a nice little reunion?" he teased. Huxley looked up at the ceiling then glared at his twin. Patrick strolled towards me, and once we were toe to toe, he gripped the collar of Maverick’s shirt and pulled me towards him, launching a kiss upon my lips with a groan.

  I melted. I was nothing but loose limbs and racing heartbeats. Patrick was delicious. I savored every touch until he pulled away abruptly. My mouth dropped open in surprise as I stared at Patrick. He bit his bottom lip and leaned in close for one additional peck upon my lips. "Look so good," he said. "I hope he treasured you."

  It was unlike Patrick to be so intense. But I liked that side of him. I looked behind him at Jacob, Kemper, and a broody Huxley. "I'm now more determined than ever." My voice wasn't shaky. There was nothing tentative about my thoughts and my desires to save Cyler and Maverick. Seeing them once again fueled my need to bring them home.

  Kemper looked like he was itching to ask me questions, so I wasn't surprised when he said, "Did Maverick say anything about what Cavil has him doing? I know he's looking for the cure still. Did he say how close he was?"

  I blushed, unsure of how to tell Kemper that there wasn't much talking that happened between Maverick and me. Our reunion was purely physical. We connected on an emotional level long before we were separated.

  "By her expression, I’m guessing they didn’t do much talking," a monotone mindspeak said for Jacob. He gave me an impish smile before the voice then said, "That lucky bastard! I get this nasty scar and lose my ability to speak; he gets the girl and the glory."

  Jacob didn't even try to get the mindspeak out of his ear. I was laughing at his thoughts but also felt bad. I squeezed Patrick's hands and walked up to Jacob, feeling brazen. "Don't you know?" I asked. I trailed my nail down Jacob's forearm and watched as goosebumps pebbled up on his skin. "You all get the girl." Standing as tall as I could, I placed a chaste kiss on Jacob's lips, but when I tried to pull away, he cupped my cheek and kept me firmly against him.

  "God, she feels so good," the mindspeak said. The monotone voice should have jarred me out of the sensation of our kiss, but it nearly spurred me forward. I wanted to know what he thought. "If she doesn't stop kissing me, I'm going to have a very embarrassing situation."

  I laughed and took a step back, taking a moment to stare at Jacob’s chest as it heaved. Licking my lips, I forced myself to calm down and remember once more that there was something important we’d learned tonight.

  “I do have some bad news,” I said with a shaky exhale. “I saw Cavil.” Each of my guys tensed and stared at me with frowns. “He didn’t recognize me,” I quickly added, “but I’m expected there the rest of the week. Cavil isn’t staying through the end of the month; he’s leaving in three days. I guess the party will be the night before he leaves.”

  Kemper let out a curse and said, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to let Louis know.”

  “So we only have three days?” Patrick said. I nodded with a frown.

  “Fuck,” Huxley growled out. And as if on cue, he then said, “I don’t like this.”

  I immediately felt the room grow heavy with concern for what was to come. Tomorrow, we’d have to figure out what we were doing, but tonight? Tonight, I needed peace and comfort. "Stay with me?" I asked.

  "Of course," Kemper said while reentering the room with a half smile. I could sense that he too was worried about the new timeline.

  "I want to be held. I want all of you here. I know that as we continue to learn how to navigate our relationships that it's unreasonable for us to have sleepovers every night. But I'm in a new place, and I'm finally starting to feel like myself again. I just…"

  "I'm more than happy to hold you, little Walker. But if one of these assholes tries to spoon me, we're gonna have an issue," Huxley said.

  Jacob must've forgotten that he had his mindspeak in because he then thought, "I'm going to spoon Huxley just to fuck with him."

  We all laughed and settled into the tiny bed. Patrick and Huxley opted to sleep on the floor and sofa. We said our good nights, Jacob made sure to kiss me thoroughly, and we fell asleep. As I lay there listening to the steady noise of their breathing, I took inventory of myself. I felt...different.

  I'd always thought that losing my virginity would awaken me as a woman. But instead, it merely bridged me back to the girl I was before everything went to hell in Ethros. I felt hope for the first time in months. I felt joy. I felt a little less like Shade, the Companion, and a lot more like Ash, the fearless Dormas woman, hopelessly in love with six men.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When I woke up the next morning, I wasn't expecting to see Kemper's blue eyes staring back at me. I had such a restful sleep that it felt like I was in Dormas again. It wasn't until I felt Jacob's hand on my hip that I remembered where we were. And although I'd give anything to be back at the Black home, I had to admit that this was a pleasant way to wake up.

  "Were you watching me?" I asked Kemper in a teasing tone. His face flushed, and I liked that I had that effect on him. Kemper was such a contradiction. He’d blush one moment then whisper sweet, dirty, little secrets that had me panting the next.

  "I can't help myself,” he said.

  Not caring about my morning breath or how I looked, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his in a brief yet intoxicating kiss. "I like knowing that you can't help but look at me, Kemp,” I said in a low, husky tone while settling deeper under the covers. I wasn’t ready to start the day. I
would have been happy to stay here for a month, reconnecting with my men and finding myself in their arms. I moved some, surprised and pleased by the ache within me.

  “I have a surprise for you later,” Kemper whispered over my skin, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “What is it?”

  Instead of answering, Kemper kissed me softly again, making sure to stroke his tongue against mine. “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

  “Tease,” I whispered.

  I put the eye-color changing drops back in my eyes and got ready for the day, adjusting the dummy fetter on my wrist before slipping into one of the other dresses Jules picked out for me. It was white, a common theme I found the Companions wore. This one was shorter than I preferred, but I swallowed back my insecurities. It was crazy to think about how I went from the compulsive modesty Linda Stonewell forced upon me when I lived in her home to this. The dress hit mid thigh, and the strappy fabric showed off my slender frame. My stomach was bare, the material covering my hips and chest.

  The guys met me downstairs, and I was about to sit at the lavish table laid out for us when a siren blasted through the home, jolting us. Madam B speed-walked through the kitchen doors to the dining room, looking at each of us with a fearful expression. “Quickly, get your things. Men, wear your hoods,” she ordered. Still waking up from our late night, the Companions stumbled down the stairs, adjusting their white robes and putting on slippers.

  “What’s happening?” I asked, too scared to move. Had we been found out? I tried to remember every detail from last night. Did Cavil somehow recognize me?

  “The sirens mean there’s a meeting in the courtyard. All healthy Zone inhabitants must attend.”

  I looked to my guys. Shit. I wanted to slap myself for not thinking about their appearance in the Zone. If Cavil saw them, he would suspect something was up. One by one, Louis handed them hooded jackets, and we filtered out of Madam B’s brothel.

  The sirens grew louder, and it wasn't until a hand at my back pushed me into the street, that I realized I was standing still. I felt so unprepared. The air smelled of smoke and sewage. I swallowed, a lump of emotion swelling in my throat.

  “Split up. Meet back at the home after the meeting,” Madam B hissed before slipping into her perfected expression of indifference, matching the other Walkers shuffling towards the Zone beside me.

  Jacob settled in line and grabbed my hand. I felt safe having him near, but my heart beat fast when I saw Kemper give me a weak smile before disappearing with Kaye. Huxley wore a scowl as he begrudgingly followed Blythe, and Patrick strolled past with a giggling Jade and Lowe on his arms. He paused to kiss me on the cheek and whisper, “See you soon, Sweets. Can’t wait to kiss those lips.”

  Damn Patrick, always making me smile when I wanted to punch something. Even though I wasn’t close with the Companions, I was comforted that the guys were with them. Should anything happen, the girls would be able to direct the guys on the proper protocol, and I knew my men would protect them.

  Jacob kept his mindspeak in his pocket, which was probably a good thing. Unfiltered access to Jacob’s thoughts about Cavil and the empire would undoubtedly get us killed. We strolled as the crowd thickened around us. Heart pounding with adrenaline, I tried to keep my breathing even. We followed the flow of people crammed in the narrow streets of the Zone. Barefoot children stumbled past us, but they lacked the usual playfulness of kids their age. Their shoulders slumped as they moved, and cheerful smiles didn't touch their lips.

  "What’s going on?" I asked out loud before silently cursing myself for being so insensitive. Jacob squeezed my hand once more as if telling me it was okay. My skin itched, I wanted to flee. After last night's run-in with Cavil, I hadn't expected to see him again so soon.

  When we turned the corner, I gasped when I saw a stage set up in what I assumed was the courtyard. It was surrounded by hoards of Walkers staring up at it. I wrapped my arms around my middle as an assault of flashbacks hit me like a punch to the gut. I forced myself not to hunch over as the physical symptoms of my anxiety wrecked my stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick.

  The stage felt foreboding in the distance. It reminded me too much of my time in Ethros. "Be...B-Be strong," Jacob gritted out through clenched teeth. His voice stuttered, but it still held the steel of a man determined. I reached out to grab his hand once more and leaned into his arm, wrapping around him like a vine and clinging to his bravery and resilience.

  "The stage, Jacob," I whimpered, eyes wide as I nodded in the direction of the large platform. There, on a wooden bench, with stiff postures, sat Maverick and Cyler. "Why are they here?" Dread pooled in my stomach. I scanned the stage further. Studying the platform, I frowned when I saw the hooded official at the end, cradling an electric ax in his arms.

  An execution.

  "Jacob," I began. I tried to keep my voice from sounding as shrill and panicked as I felt, but the effort was wasted. I couldn't help the all-consuming terror. "We have to get them out of here. The executioner's here." Jacob turned me to look at him, cupping my cheeks as we stood in the crowd. Walker men and women passed by us in a mindless, obedient haze as I collected myself.

  I squeezed my eyes shut as he stared at me more, keeping me in his hands as I breathed in and out. "Hey, get going," a guard nearby yelled. I took an extra second to exhale and nodded.

  Jacob was constant and firm, pressing me forward and comforting me with little touches and care. We filed into the dense crowd, and my breathing went shallow. I looked around for the others, needing to feel secure that they were safe. My eyes spotted Madam B, who was sitting almost directly in front of the stage. She was brave.

  When the trumpets started, I felt like puking once more. I kept my eyes on Cyler and Maverick, taking in every little detail like it was my last time to see them. The way Cyler's mouth quirked up when he observed something. Maverick's tall posture. Cyler's leg was bouncing up and down, the only sign that he was anxious.

  And, as if they'd trained their whole lives to seek me out in a crowd, their eyes found mine. They bore into my soul with their gazes, and I was comforted by their hard stares. I hated how much stood between us at that moment. I wanted to run to them—to save them. Cavil personified fear, and fear was the only thing standing between me and what I wanted.

  Above the stage, orange flags folded and floated in the wind. It wasn't until the music stopped and the place went eerily silent that I completely lost my nerve. How could I possibly keep my composure through this storm?

  Maverick and Cyler severed their attention from me, and it felt like someone was ripping my heart from my chest. I clutched myself, and Jacob choked out one more word of affirmation. "Br-breathe." I loved him for fighting to be my rock through this.

  When Cavil walked on stage, I half expected the flashbacks to hit me like a crescendo too intense to contain, but instead, it was like a sledgehammer fell on my feelings, cracking through the storm of emotions until all that was left was a cool, calm rage.

  There, on that stage, looking like a smug, dark-eyed prey, was the man I was going to kill. Seeing him didn't send me into the tailspin I'd expected. It just pushed forward the resolve I'd locked deep within five months ago: I would kill him if it were the last thing I did.

  Jacob let out a gasp, and I looked down at our entwined hands, releasing his once I realized that I had such a death grip on him. "Sorry," I whispered with a shaky breath. Guards behind us yelled over the crowd, ordering us all to be silent and listen. Cavil wrinkled his nose, then made a big production of pulling a mask from his pocket and putting it over his mouth with gloved hands. He wore all black, yet not an inch of skin below the neck was showing.

  "Walkers!" his voice boomed over the crowd. Numb dread seemed to fill the courtyard where we stood. It was like watching a disaster but being helpless to stop it. "A leader is someone willing to risk danger to serve a greater purpose. Not once did Lackley ever step foot in the Zone. The most he tra
veled was to the auction post, the most sanitary and guarded outpost here."

  I didn't like where this was going. I wished that I had more insight into the Cavil-Lackley feud. It felt like if I knew more, maybe I could decipher Commodore Cavil's intentions.

  “You know,” Cavil began again once the mild applause died down. “Lackley and I were friends once. I viewed him as a worthy leader. But Lackley hid his dealings behind closed doors. He wanted to appear benevolent, I think. And this is why I believe that Lackley failed all of you.” Jacob’s breath was impossibly shallow, and I locked my eyes on Maverick and Cyler once more. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Cavil just wanted a forum to speak highly of himself.

  “Lackley had his merits, don’t get me wrong. As the population grew, our resources were dwindling. Influenza X saved the human race. Only the worthy survive, you see. We can also thank him for establishing the class system currently in place.”

  How could he think any of this was okay?

  “But I don’t deal my punishments behind closed doors. I lead with an iron fist and a strong stomach. Nothing scares me. Nothing. I am fear. Which is why I am here today, to show you how strong I am, and how I will never fail you as Lackley did in that regard.”

  At his last words, a shuffling began on stage that made me grab my stomach. Around me, the sun beat down on our backs, and the trees in the courtyard’s leaves were falling. A light breeze picked up my hair, and a baby cried in the distance. A lean man with shaking knees scrambled to the podium, and after bowing to Cavil, he took the microphone with a submissive slump. “Today, our gracious leader will execute a traitor,” his low voice growled over the crowd.

  I felt the Walkers around me go stiff with awareness. “The man about to be executed has been employed by Emperor Cavil as a scientist researching the cure. He was cared for. Provided for. This man was a scientist in Cavil’s employment, and his studies flourished under Cavil’s careful guidance and tutelage.” Oh God. Maverick. Cavil was going to kill Maverick, and I was going to have to watch.

 

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