by L. S. O'Dea
He smiled as he poured himself another shot and tossed it back. The break in and theft would be enough to cause Conguise to blow a fuse, let alone finding out that his daughter was involved in the switch that caused him to lose Trinity. No, there was no way that he would miss seeing this.
“You just want to throw it in their faces that you beat them,” said Tim.
“So, what if I do?” His brother knew him well.
“You don’t even know for sure that you’ve won. You don’t have Trinity. What if this Guard”—Tim pointed at Jackson—“is lying to you?”
“I’m not. I swear.” Jackson glanced nervously at Hugh.
The Guard could be lying, but why would he? Benedictine was a harsh master. There were not many who served him loyally when presented with another option.
“This whole thing could be a trap,” said Tim. “You let in his Guards voluntarily. They outnumber us.”
“He has a point,” said Buddy, eyeing Jackson with suspicion.
“Wait a minute.” Jackson backed up a step. “I came to you.”
“Exactly,” said Buddy and Tim at the same time. They turned and glared at each other.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth? Jethro had his surgery. Benedictine is throwing a party. None of that smacks of the disappointment of a stolen Producer,” Hugh said.
“I can’t prove it,” said Jackson. “All I can do is stress how much I despise Benedictine and would kill him...”
“Except for what?” he asked.
Jackson’s jaw clenched but he remained silent.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Had he been tricked? Had Jackson been sent to him so that he would not devise his own way to steal the Producer? He would kill Jackson with his own hands if he lost her.
“Go to the party. You’ll see. Conguise should be angry and Benedictine should be squirming,” said Jackson stubbornly.
“He wants you to go to the party,” growled Buddy.
“I didn’t even know he was going until I arrived,” said Jackson.
“That’s true, unless...” Hugh tapped his lips with his finger. Benedictine had delivered the invitation. “Hmm. Change of plans.”
“Thank Araldo,” said Tim. “You’re finally thinking clearly.”
“Oh, I’m still going but so is he.” He pointed at Jackson.
“What? I can’t go. Benedictine will kill me.”
“I’ll kill you now if you don’t go,” he said calmly. “Lock up your Guards. Buddy, go with him. Put them in the room where we held Tim.” He hated doing this but Tim was right. He shouldn’t trust Jackson. Trinity was not here.
“You promised to give them shelter,” argued Jackson.
“I’m not sending them to my cabin to kill my Guards if this is a betrayal. You can do as you’re told or die now.” Jackson’s Guards outnumbered them. It wouldn’t be easy to kill them all if Jackson warned them but he wanted to see what Jackson would do.
“Promise me that they’ll be safe. I brought them here. They had nothing to do with any of this.”
Jackson was genuinely concerned for his Guards. It was a good trait. “If you have not misled me, they’re safe,” said Hugh.
“I’ve been honest with you. Trinity is with the Tracker and Handler,” said Jackson, taking a step toward Hugh.
Buddy inched forward. Jackson stopped, glancing at the other Guard.
“Then you have nothing to worry about.” All he could do was wait.
“If my Guards don’t agree to be locked up, are they free to leave?”
So, they could set up an ambush? He shook his head.
“I...I can’t agree to this,” said Jackson.
“That’s not a good answer.” He started to pace.
“You have me. If something goes wrong, take it out on me. Not them,” pleaded Jackson.
He stopped pacing. “Why are you so sure something is going to go wrong?”
“I’m not! You are!”
Guards did not raise their voices to him. He glared at Jackson. Buddy would kill the other Guard right now if he nodded, but he had to give Jackson credit for protecting his Guards. That kind of loyalty could not be taught. “Fine. If something goes wrong, you die but your Guards go free.”
“Hugh...” said Buddy.
He held up his hand, stopping Buddy from commenting further. “When we come back.”
Jackson frowned but nodded. “I’ll talk to them.”
The two Guards left the room. There were raised voices from the Guards in the back and then stomping up the stairs. They were not happy but a group of Guards raised by Benedictine should be used to taking orders. If Jackson were telling the truth, he’d make it up to them.
Jackson, Buddy and Reese came back into the room.
“Done,” said Buddy.
“Tim, you and Reese stay here.”
“If I go into that house Benedictine will kill me,” repeated Jackson.
He studied the Guard’s battered face. “Reese, you know where I keep the gun?”
She nodded.
“What about—” said Buddy.
He shot him a look that clearly stated to shut up. “Get it. Use it if you have to. The Guards are locked up. Don’t let them out for any reason. They’re not to be trusted. Understand?”
“Yes,” she said, nervously.
“She’s not ready for this,” said Buddy.
He looked into Reese’s scared, brown eyes and smiled. “She’ll have to be. If they escape, run. Don’t be a hero. Let them go. Okay?”
She nodded again.
“Tim, you’re coming with us. I want you and Jackson to stay outside in the woods. I trust you can handle him if he tries anything.”
“Gladly.” Tim glared at Jackson.
“You know, I set your daughter free,” said Jackson.
“Prove it,” snapped Tim.
Jackson’s shoulders sagged.
“Let’s go to the party,” Hugh said jovially. This was either going to be the time of his life or a disaster. “I’ll meet you outside.”
Tim, Buddy and Jackson left.
He turned to Reese. “Laddie is in the back with Scar. Go and wake him. Jackson has no idea about those two. If this is a trap, we have the upper hand.”
Reese smiled and nodded.
As he stepped outside, there was a cry of pain from inside the house.
“What the hell was that?” yelled Jackson.
Hugh raced back inside. The others right behind him. Reese was already running down the hallway toward the back room where Laddie and Scar rested. The Guards upstairs were shouting and pounding on the door.
He ran into Reese almost knocking her down as she stood in the open doorway. Tim, Jackson and Buddy skidded to a halt behind him. Laddie sat on the floor, leaning against the tub, holding the reddish, clawed hand of Scar. They’d filled the tub and placed her in it when they’d arrived back at the house. The water gave her some comfort. He was pretty sure that her bones were crushing her and the water took off some of the weight.
Scar was submerged in the tub, eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling which was faded yellow with a few chips of paint missing. Not much of a final picture. Laddie sobbed.
“What the hell is that thing?” asked Jackson, his face wrinkling in disgust.
Laddie burst from his sorrow like a volcano, shoving all the others out of the way to get at Jackson. Only Tim had the reflexes to move faster and he jumped to the side, giving the old Guard better access to Jackson.
Jackson took the first hit from Laddie’s brick like body and flew to the side, rolling and landing on his feet. He launched himself back at the older Guard, moving in quickly for a punch and then dancing away. Buddy jumped in the middle, trying to hold back Laddie but Laddie’s hurt fueled his strength and he dragged Buddy across the floor.
“Stop it, Laddie,” Hugh yelled.
Laddie didn’t hear or didn’t listen. He and Jackson hit again and this time they both fell to the floor, taking Buddy wit
h them. It was a snarling, rolling mess of arms and legs with thuds accentuating the blows.
“Sorry, Scar,” he muttered as he grabbed the bucket that they’d used to fill the bath and dipped it into the tub. He threw the water on the rolling Guards. That stopped them.
“Shit, that wasn’t from the tub, was it?” Jackson shook his head, sending water droplets flying.
Laddie was barely wet but Buddy was drenched since he’d been on top of the pile of Guards. Laddie snarled at Jackson and Jackson snarled back.
“Stop it, both of you.” He stepped in the middle and then turned toward Jackson. “Jackson, that thing was Scar, a loyal Guard, and a good friend of Laddie’s.” He nodded at Laddie. “That is Laddie.”
“I gathered,” said Jackson. “And I’m sorry.”
Laddie grunted.
He turned toward Laddie. “Laddie, this is Jackson.”
“If no one minds, could someone explain what happened to that—”
“Scar,” growled Laddie.
“Scar,” corrected Jackson. “What happened to her?”
The Guards upstairs continued to pound on the door. “Buddy, you have to change, so please stop by the room and tell the Guards that everything is fine. Jackson will go with you.” Would Jackson obey without his question answered?
Jackson nodded and turned to follow Buddy out the door.
He’d obeyed. That was a good sign. “Conguise,” he said. “Conguise did this to her.”
Jackson stopped and looked at Scar. “I don’t understand.”
“Experiments,” said Laddie. “That is our retirement.”
“Shit,” said Jackson, all color draining from his face as he left the room.
“So much for having the upper hand.” Hugh looked at Reese.
She shrugged.
“Laddie, I do have to go but we’ll bury Scar as soon as we get back. I’ll need to get some blood samples first, but after that...”
“I’d like to bury her by water. She never liked to get wet, but always loved to sit by it.” Laddie started crying again,
“Laddie,”—he patted him on the shoulder—“I hate to ask you at a time like this, but I’m not one hundred percent sure that we can trust Jackson and his Guards. There are nine of them upstairs locked in a room. I’m leaving Reese here, but Tim, Buddy, Jackson and I have to go out for a while.”
“I’ll help Reese keep the Guards secured,” said Laddie.
“Thanks,” he said.
“No, thank you,” said Laddie. “At least Scar had hope and freedom at the end. She wasn’t caged and scared.”
“I wish I could have done more.”
Laddie smiled sadly and stared down at his friend. “Promise me Conguise will pay for this.”
“He’ll pay.” He stared at the wreck of a creature that had once been a loyal Guard. “I’ll make sure of it.”
CHAPTER 46
“I HATE BEING LATE,” said Hugh as they arrived at Benedictine’s house. “Especially, this much.” He brushed a fleck of dust from his jacket.
“Stop fussing,” said Buddy. “The party started less than an hour ago.”
They’d stopped and dropped off Tim and Jackson about a half mile back. The two would make their way to Benedictine’s through the woods then wait outside. If everything went well, the two groups would meet at the Lake of Sins after the party.
He and Buddy stepped out of the carriage.
“I don’t see many Guards,” he smirked. “Do you think Benedictine had to borrow the few that are here?”
“Cocky bastard.” Buddy shot him a look and shook his head.
He grinned and sauntered up to the door. It was immediately opened by a middle aged House Servant.
“High Hugh Truent and Guard,” he said to the Servant, rolling his eyes at Buddy when the House Servant checked the list. He hated the formality that the Almightys insisted upon.
“Guards are back there.” The House Servant stepped aside and pointed down a hallway toward the back porch.
“I guess this is where we part ways,” he said, grinning.
“Control yourself,” warned Buddy.
“But that wouldn’t be any fun.” He walked toward the living room. “I’ll holler if I need you.”
A passing female House Servant offered him a glass of champagne.
“Whiskey, please,” he said, refusing the drink.
She nodded and went to the bar.
The house was of modest size but well appointed. Benedictine’s wife must have a taste for decorating. It definitely wasn’t done by Benedictine. There were about twenty or so Almightys mingling around. Kim was talking to a few young people. Viola should be around here somewhere.
The House Servant brought him the whiskey and he took a small sip. Better keep his head clear just in case things didn’t go as planned.
Benedictine walked up behind him and slapped him on the back. “Hugh, so glad you could make it. I wasn’t sure...you know with how things worked out. But glad you made it nonetheless.”
He forced a smile. What did Benedictine mean by that? Maybe, nothing. The other Almighty had already been drinking quite a lot that evening.
Benedictine grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing Servant and handed one to him even though he already had the whiskey.
“Here try the champagne. It’s excellent. To my son’s health.” Benedictine tapped the glasses together and then tossed back the liquid.
He couldn’t refuse that toast. He took a small sip. The champagne was pretty good which was surprising since Benedictine wasn’t known for his generosity and the champagne was flowing freely around the party.
“Have you seen my boy?” Benedictine looked around the room.
“Not yet, but I just arrived.” That was odd. Being the star of the night, he would have expected the lad to be present. Maybe, Jethro was overly tired from his surgery. He swallowed the rest of the champagne. Or perhaps the boy was hiding in the back and growing claws and a shell like Scar. No telling what Conguise had injected into him.
“A fine, strapping lad,” said Benedictine a bit too loudly. “The girls have noticed him. That’s for sure.” Benedictine nudged him. “Ah, the teen years. Those were the days.”
The glory days of horniness with no outlet. Yeah, those were the days. He set the empty champagne flute on the tray of a passing Servant and took a sip of his whiskey. Benedictine replaced his own glass with a full one.
“I think your wife is trying to get your attention.” He nodded to where Martha was standing. She was in a group talking but he was tired of the company and since Benedictine was drunk he wouldn’t notice the fib.
“What? Oh right. Must go to the little lady.” Benedictine patted him on the back again. “Glad you could make it. Good thing you arrived before dinner. The professor used his own recipes. He’s something of a chef,” he said, walking toward his wife.
He tried to smile but was pretty sure that it turned out more like a grimace. Dinner was going to be a challenge. He no longer wanted to eat the meat that would be served. Knowing that it was a close relative genetically turned his stomach. If it was his niece, he would throw up. There was no sign that Benedictine knew anything about the switch. Of course, Benedictine may be ignorant of it but Conguise should have figured it out by now.
He strolled around the room, sipping his whiskey and looking for the professor. He chatted with Almightys here and there. They were mostly Benedictine’s co-workers and others in his business. The young adults were likewise the children of these people. There were a few of Kim’s friends from school but he didn’t see anyone Jethro’s age who wasn’t there with parents.
“Pssst, over here,” said a voice from a dark room.
A hand reached out of a side door and waved at him. It appeared that he wasn’t done with the cloak and dagger stuff. He glanced around. No one was watching.
“It’s me, Jethro. Benedictine’s son,” said the boy as he stuck his head out of the room.
This was interesting. He stepped inside and Jethro shut the door behind him and turned on the lights. They were in a bathroom.
“I need to talk to you,” said Jethro.
“Really?” he asked. “There was nowhere better to meet than this? How is this going to look if we’re seen leaving here together?”
“I didn’t think of that.” Jethro looked sheepish and shrugged.
“Well, you should if you ever want a girlfriend. Hiding in bathrooms with older men is not going to make you a prize for the girls. Some of the guys, maybe.” He peeked out the door.
“I didn’t think of that either,” said Jethro, blushing.
Had he ever been that young? “I’m leaving. The coast is clear.” He obviously needed to get some sleep. It was the only explanation he had for using that phrase.
Jethro grabbed his arm. He stared at Jethro’s hand until the boy let go.
“I’ll meet you somewhere else, but not here,” he said.
“Okay. I guess we can talk outside. Go down the hallway by the kitchen. Take the second door on the left.”
“Fine. In ten minutes.” He stepped out of the bathroom and made his way back toward the party.
Kim walked over to him. Her black slacks and tight green sweater accentuated her curvy frame. The males should be flocking around her. Actually, now that he thought about it, she shot down anyone who showed an interest in her. Why?
“Hugh,” she said.
“Kim,” he answered in greeting, smiling.
“Have you seen Viola?” she asked, worried.
“No.” He would find out shortly if Jackson had told him the truth. He was rooting for the Guard.
She grabbed his arm and led him away from the others. “Have you spoken with Jackson?” she whispered.
“Yes.” He waited, giving her no hint at what he’d been told.
She glanced around. “So, you know about Viola switching places with...you know who.”
“Jackson said something about that.” So, there had been a switch. That was good.
