by Amy Braun
I yelped and staggered to the side. Nothing in my face felt broken, but the pain was trying to convince me otherwise.
My hand went to my hip to find the hilt of a knife while my eyes found the man who hit me.
Fletcher reached to the back of his belt and took out a long blade with a crude, rusty tip. Not as sharp or lethal as mine, but still just as dangerous and deadly as mine.
His dark eyes flashed to Nash and Sawyer. He took a step toward them. Sawyer lifted his gun to fire at him. I tightened my grip on the knife and edged closer to Fletcher.
A sharp, rasping scream stopped us all. Our heads swiveled to the staircase on the right. The same one I used to come down and begin the rescue.
The Hellions were coming in from the roof.
I lunged at Fletcher. He saw me moving from the corner of his eye and swung out of the way.
“Go!” I screamed at Sawyer and Nash.
Fletcher glanced at the two young men, his eyes widening. He lunged for them, but I darted in his way and blocked the strike, forearm against forearm. Fletcher’s eyes latched onto mine and he snarled. I swept our arms away and stabbed at his stomach. He sidestepped the attack and let my momentum carry me. His knee hammered into my stomach and robbed me of breath. I gasped and stumbled up, seeing the knife arching for me again. I sliced my blade against his. Metal shrieked against metal. Fletcher swung another punch into my jaw.
Since he always sat on the sidelines, content with being the small, quiet man that oversaw his children’s actions, it was hard for me to remember that Fletcher was a trained soldier. He was the one who trained me to fight. I figured that the Sky Guard techniques he taught me would fade from his memory, because he simply didn’t use them enough.
This was what I got for assuming. Again.
I stepped back and held up a knife and a curled fist. I knew this was the end. If Fletcher didn’t kill me, Tyler might. If neither of them did, the Hellions would. There was no way I could escape this. I wasn’t exactly happy with that, though I wasn’t leaving much behind.
Nothing but lost chances and regrets.
“You wicked little bitch,” Fletcher growled. “You brought them to me. They belonged to me!”
I grinned. At least I wasn’t the only one making failed assumptions.
“I said I would bring them to you,” I reminded. “I never said I wouldn’t try to take them back.”
Fletcher roared and charged me. Gone was the man who picked me up off the streets and claimed to care for me. No more displeased sighs and half-hearted slaps. Fletcher wasn’t going to let me walk away. Not this time.
I missed the swing of his knife. Got the punch of his fist. Dodged the kick to my head. Earned a slice to my ribs. Every attack was a reflection of the man himself. Carefully constructed distractions to draw me close before breaking out his true nature.
But I was a trained liar. The one thing we did best was learn from our enemies. And learn fast.
Fletcher aimed a slashing strike at my neck. One that would kill me if it landed.
I leaned back as far as I could, then caught his arm. I used his own momentum against him, pulling his arm with me as I swerved around his body. Keeping it away from me as I ended up with my back to his. Leaving him defenseless as I stabbed the knife into his ribs.
Fletcher gasped at the pain. I yanked the knife out and twisted away so I could back up.
I got two steps before a wrecking ball force slammed into me. I lost my knife when I hit the floor with an unforgiving smack. The landing didn’t hurt nearly as much as Tyler’s right hook.
I honestly thought he punched a hole through my head. Blackness consumed my vision. When I opened my eyes again, everything was a blur. But I could still feel Tyler’s hands tightening around my throat.
I dug my fingers into his wrists, my nails digging deep enough to make him bleed. He didn’t seem to feel it. He crushed my neck in his hands. Pressure and pain swelled in my head. My lungs strained in my chest, burning and begging for air. My fingers flailed around the floor, desperately searching for the knife. Where was it––
Tyler’s thumbs pressed down on my trachea. The bone pushed back into my throat. A little more pressure, and he would break my neck. I panicked and gave up on the knife. I swung my fist into his jaw. He grunted and took the hit. I jabbed him in the face as fast as I could, bloodying his nose with every hit.
He kept my neck in place with one hand, then shot the other one into my face. It didn’t take him more than one hit to break my nose.
Tyler’s hands circled my neck again, and he squeezed harder than ever before.
“Don’t kill her yet,” a cold, ragged voice commanded from behind Tyler’s back.
My ex-brother turned his head just enough to see Fletcher standing behind him. My ex-father was pale with sweat beading on his forehead. A single hand was pressed to his bleeding side. The other held his knife.
The one he was going to kill me with.
Fletcher took a slow step forward. Every motion and every breath must have been torture, but Fletcher wouldn’t let that get in the way of his revenge. If he wanted something, he took it. No matter what the cost. If killing me meant he died as well, he wouldn’t care. He’d probably die smiling.
Tell me you got away, Nash, I prayed. Tell me this will be worth it.
Fletcher collapsed onto his knees beside me. Tyler gave him a concerned look, but refused to let me go.
Where the hell is my knife?
I could hardly move my head, but I made the effort. It wasn’t on my right side. I turned my head again. Was it on the left––
I froze. They were in the hallway, silhouettes blacker than the shadows they were lurking in. Four sets of red eyes gleamed in the dark like fresh blood drops, all of them fixated on us.
Fletcher and Tyler were no longer threats. They were obstacles trapping me from a truly horrific death. And I couldn’t move them.
I beat at Tyler’s arms and kicked frantically, but he wouldn’t budge. I glanced at the Hellions stalking closer. My vision was fogging at the edges, yet those red eyes were clear as rubies.
A shadow dropped in front of me. Cold steel pressed against my cheek. The rusted blade turned my face to meet Fletcher’s.
He could see that I looked terrified, but it wasn’t because of him. It was because I couldn’t see the Hellions.
“I didn’t want it to come to this, Gemma,” he said, pressing the knife to the corner of my lips, “but you and your smart mouth brought it on yourself.”
Tyler gripped the hair on the top of my scalp and pushed my head back, completely immobilizing me. I was trapped, breathless, and now I was shaking. I’d never been so helpless.
But the cut from the knife never came. In its place was a hot, sticky splash of blood. Tyler let go of my neck and scrambled back. I rolled away and coughed, my lungs almost bursting from the swell of fresh air in them.
I pushed onto my stomach at the same moment the Hellion ripped open Fletcher’s neck.
Blood sprayed wildly, peppering the floor and my face. A second Hellion darted into the gymnasium, probably smelling Boyd’s blood and wanting to bite into it before the others did. The third pounced on Tyler, knocking him back and sinking its fangs and claws into him. My ex-brother didn’t have time to scream before the Hellion savagely tore apart his neck. Thick red blood fountained up and stained its face. Its claws shredded Tyler’s clothes, raked through his flesh, tossed blood and chunks of flesh through the air.
I crawled along the floor and grabbed my knife. A screeching hiss came from behind me. I swung the knife back, not caring where it hit the Hellion, as long as it did––
The tip of the blade slammed home into its eye. It seemed to be my lucky charm.
Except this wasn’t a killing strike.
The Hellion reared its head back and screamed. I grimaced and clapped my hands on either side of my head, trying to drown out the sharp, grating noise. The fighter in me wanted to take the knife and finis
h off the Hellion, but there were too many of them. Right now they were gorging on their individual meals, but the feast wouldn’t last. Hellions were always hungry, and if I didn’t get out of here while I could still walk, I would be next.
So I got to my feet and broke into a dead run.
I nearly knocked the front door from the hinges as I barreled through it into the heavy rain. I couldn’t see five feet in front of my face. I didn’t know if it would be enough to hide me from the Hellion’s gaze. Their sight may not be as great under water, but they could still see better than the average, sore, terrified human.
Not to mention how much faster they were.
I didn’t stand a chance.
Fire exploded along my back when the claws slashed down my shoulders. I screamed until I tripped, landing face first in the mud. The wind was knocked from my lungs. I dug my fingers into the drenched soil to drag myself forward––
The Hellion sprang on me.
The monster crashed onto my back. I pushed against the Hellion, but it was no use. The monster’s claws plunged into my back. I screamed again, the cry half muffled by the soaked mud sliding into my mouth. The Hellion rasped and pushed harder, snapping down to sink its teeth in my neck, spitting saliva on the base of my throat––
I jumped at the sound of a gunshot. The Hellion squealed and twisted away. Its claws ripped fresh wounds in my back. I screamed again, but the sound was hoarse and scratchy. The Hellion was screaming again, charging its way to my savior. Whoever it was, because it couldn’t be the person I was thinking of. But I was going to help them anyway.
My hand flashed out, weakly grabbing the Hellion’s ankle. The trick was pretty pathetic, but it worked. The Hellion tripped and landed on its face. Snarling, the monster turned and crashed its boot into my face.
I heard another loud crack, someone shouting my name, and then there was nothing.
Chapter 10
The first thing I realized when I regained consciousness was that I was dry. Warm. Wrapped in fresh clothes and a big blanket.
That was as far as the pleasure got before the pain set in.
Every part of my body ached. New bruises covered the old ones. My throat felt tight and ragged. There was an endless pounding in my head that seemed to stem from my battered nose. The cuts in my back throbbed like distant thunder. I groaned and pushed the blanket, wincing as I sat up. I closed my eyes and let my tormented head settle on my shoulders. Once I was sure I wouldn’t pass out, I tenderly moved my right arm to my left shoulder. The fiery pain stretched, but I had to know how bad the wounds were, what I was going to do to repair them…
Soft bandages already covered them. I paused and concentrated on the feelings in my upper back. Did someone stitch the slices up, too?
That was when I blinked, and realized where I was.
The dark walls were familiar now. The crates and boxes stacked in their meticulous fashion. The ruined engine on the far wall, close to the stairs that led to the main deck. Even the kerosene lantern was familiar.
Heavy footsteps pounded down the steps. I tossed off the blanket and looked for my weapons. I couldn’t see them.
The boots landed heavily on the hard floor. I settled into a weak crouch. The state I was in, I wouldn’t be able to fight a drowned kitten, much less a full grown, angry man.
But when Sawyer materialized out of the shadows and swung a kerosene lantern over my face, I saw that he was unarmed. Maybe he wouldn’t hurt me after all.
Unless he decided to do so barehanded. The fury I’d seen in his eyes hadn’t disappeared over night. Or however many nights had passed since I’d been here.
“You should be sleeping,” he grumbled.
“I should be doing a lot of things,” I replied. “Guess we won’t be having our dreams come true.”
Sawyer narrowed his eyes and scowled. “So it’s useless for me to ask why you did what you did?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t eager to start a fight with the man who saved my life. Looking back, I knew it was Sawyer who killed those Hellions and saved my life. If anything, I should be asking the questions.
But I learned the hard way never to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Fletcher manipulated––”
“Don’t blame someone else for your betrayal.”
Now I was the one who glared. “I’m not. I’m trying to explain. Or are you just going to make up your own story then point fingers when it suits you?”
He grimaced, but didn’t give a response. I chose to continue.
“Fletcher manipulated me, but I knew who and what he was. I turned on you because it was the only escape I could see, unless I wanted to spend the rest of my life as a rape-toy for my self-proclaimed brothers and father.”
Sawyer winced.
“He heard about you and… you two. He thought you would be strong enough to join his family, so I was sent to convince you.”
“So it was all an act.”
I looked down. I realized whose clothes I was wearing. I shouldn’t have been surprised. “At first. But I got to know you, care about you, and I was torn. It didn’t stop me from going back to Fletcher, because Morris was right. I’m a coward.”
Sawyer waited a long time to speak. “But you came back.”
I nodded, still looking at the hem of the big, navy blue work shirt I wore. “I couldn’t leave you there, knowing what it would be like. How much suffering you would go through while I walked away.” I lifted my head and glanced around the ship. “That you would work so hard for this and have to give it up.” I shook my head. “I couldn’t do that to you. Not after everything that came before. I just wish I’d come sooner.”
Sawyer fell silent again. I sat there and let him judge me. I had no way of knowing what was going through his mind, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. There were a million things he could think of me, and none of them would be good.
And Nash…
It hurt just to imagine what he might think.
“Fletcher and your brothers are dead. We got away in time, but we saw the Hellions carry the bodies back to the skiffs.”
I shuddered.
“Now that you’re free, what are you going to do?”
I laughed bitterly. “Funny thing. I dreamed about the idea for so long, I never considered what to do with it.”
To my surprise, Sawyer laughed and gently shook his head. “I met a guy recently who went through the same thing.” He started to turn for the stairs. “I’ll come back tomorrow morning and give you your tasks. Hope you’re ready for some rigging lessons.”
Despite my better judgment and my body’s protests, I scrambled to my feet. “You’re letting me stay?”
“Yeah. My ship needs another crew member.” He stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to face me. His tawny eyes looked like black gold under the dim lantern light. “And it is mine, Gemma. In every way.”
I scrunched my face in confusion, wondering what he meant about the Dauntless…
One of them is a renegade member of the Stray Dogs, and the other…iIs supposedly a Kendric.
Fletcher’s words shot through my skull like a bullet. I knew Sawyer was dangerous, but the idea of him being of the same blood as Robertson and Davin Kendric seemed ridiculous at the time.
