by Bella Knight
Celia laughed. “Si, I know. You looking for work?”
“Yes, but we come as a set. We’re better together, more focused.”
“It’s not distracting working with your corazon?”
Rota smiled slowly. “It is distracting working with yours?” Celia laughed. “Business is business.”
“Es verdad,” said Celia. “Can you take orders?”
“From a woman, no problem,” said Rota. “Women have sense. Not guided by their dicks.”
“Fuck,” said Celia. “You’re perfect. How many kills you got?”
“Only ten,” said Rota. “I’m better at cleanup. Wraith can kill five at once. I’ve seen her do it.”
Celia raised her eyebrows. “Impressive. And what do you use to clean up?”
“The desert can take a lot of bodies. Some bleach, gotta clean out those traps. Drano works for that. Disposable gloves. Then, go. Or, even better, make it look like one person shot another one, or some random gang thing. That works a lot.” Rota took another swig of the soda.
“Fuck,” said Celia. “You guys know your stuff.”
“We get paid, we do the job right. Quick, clean, efficient.”
“I can see that,” said Celia. “How much?”
“We got a daily rate and a job rate,” said Rota. “Daily rate means we ride with you, do what you want us to do. Job rate means we go where we’re pointed. Includes significant cleanup.”
“Daily, for five days. That include wet work and cleanup?”
“Absolutely,” said Rota. “A thousand a day, each.”
“Done,” said Celia. “Go tell your woman.”
“Cash first,” said Rota. “Then, we ride.”
Celia counted out the money. Rota nodded and gave Wraith a signal. Wraith nodded, a cruel smile coming across her lips.
“Your woman is a little scary,” said David, coming over with a box of wrapped chocolates for his woman.
“She is the best there is,” said Rota, proudly. “You lead, we follow.”
“Si,” said Celia. “No point wasting our time. Our next stop is Wagoner. We have a contact there with loose lips.”
“Not for long,” said Rota. “Wait ‘till you see my woman dance.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” said Celia.
They took off toward Wagoner. It was a quiet ghost town, buildings falling down. There were a few ranches. They came to a falling-down building with a red roof. David stayed on his bike, looking off into the desert. Celia got off her bike, and so did Rota. A man came out, whippet-thin, ears sticking out.
“Celia!” he said, smiling hugely. “What can I do for you?”
“Die,” said Celia. She shot him before Rota had time to react, in the gut. “Pendejo,” she said.
Rota pulled out her gun. “Shall I?”
Wraith slipped off her bike and shot Celia in her crazy head. Rota shot David as he pulled out his own gun. She then ran to Celia and realized the assassin was dead, eyes staring into nothingness, blood pooling under her head. She stepped toward the man Celia had shot, who was holding his guts and mewling. Wraith reached into her saddlebag, then threw Rota the first aid kit, and called it in. Wraith then ran to David. The bike had toppled with him as he fell; he was pinned, eyes rolling, weapon on the ground by his hand. She’d gotten him in the throat.
David out of the corner of his eye. “Beetches,” he said.
“Seriously?” said Wraith. “You’ve been riding around with a serial killer.” He breathed his last and was still. “Waste of a perfectly good Harley,” said Wraith.
“A little help here,” said Rota. They packed the wound, and literally tied him to Rota.
They sped toward the closest hospital in Prescott Valley. They met the ambulance on the way. Wraith flagged them down, then blocked them with her bike.
“What the fuck, lady?” said the driver, hopping down.
“I’m the one that called,” she said. “Your patient is tied to Rota’s back.”
A tiny woman came out of the other side of the bus. She quickly had a gurney out, and she helped untie and transfer the patient. They moved their bikes to the side of the road. The ambulance sped off.
“That’s not coming out,” complained Rota, looking at her jacket. “Can we keep the Indian?”
“Nope,” said Wraith. “But I will keep an eye out for the auction, and get it for you if you want it.”
“My girlfriend would love it,” said Rota.
“I’ll talk to my superiors,” said Wraith. “They may sell it to me directly. Then, you can have it. You had my back.”
Rota snorted. “Of course. I do. You’re a Valkyrie now, a sister. We have each other’s backs, now and forever.”
“We did it,” said Wraith, “with the shield, not on it.” She reached into her saddlebags for a bottle of water. Rota took out her own, and they drank. She slipped her credentials out of her hidden compartment as a sheriff’s deputy vehicle sped toward them.
“Be a while ‘till we get our guns back,” she said. “Sorry about that.”
“Get me the bike, and the leather and the gun will be a distant memory.”
Wraith snorted. “One is worth considerably more than the others.”
Rota smiled wickedly. “What’s money between sisters?”
It took way too long to go over what happened. The deputy, a short black-haired good ‘ol boy, didn’t comprehend why Wraith didn’t arrest Celia and David at the gas station.
“Great idea,” snorted Wraith. “A woman who likes to kill people with guns at a gas station. If she missed the clerk or the little girl in the back, she could have winged a gas tank. Then, boom.”
“What little girl?” asked Deputy Terrance.
“Pull the tapes,” said Rota. “She was two aisles over. She and her mom were skinny, wore old-fashioned dresses.”
Wraith sent several coded texts while she and Rota were questioned several times. Deputy Terrance’s boss, a huge black man named Sheriff Donner. He took one look at Wraith’s badge, quickly ran through her story, and sent them on their way, sadly minus their guns. They could hear his big, booming voice as they got on their bikes.
“Deputy Terrance,” he said, “next time you see DEA on a badge, get their story and send them on their way. Their own people will investigate them.” Wraith had to smile.
They swung by the DEA office in Phoenix. “Good work,” said Special Agent in charge, Gregorio Fornas. “Wish you could have dragged one of them alive, but it does save us from having to prosecute her. We’re still finding all her kill sites. That Indian was recognizable; eventually, we would have gotten to her if you hadn’t been protecting your witnesses.”
“Need a favor,” said Wraith. “When her Indian goes up for auction, I’d like a crack at it first. I had help, and I’d like to pay that help back.”
“I can put in a word,” said Fornas. “Quite willing, in fact.”
She put Rota in a conference room to text her sisters on her phone, and let Fornas do a quick check on her story while she did the paperwork. Fornas ordered food for them, and they consumed pulled pork sandwiches and chips and sodas. Fornas left Rota to mess with her phone while Wraith finished the last of the paperwork.
Wraith called Ivy. “Got David and Celia. We’re still looking into the lawyer. We have to nip the source of the orders, then you can stand down.”
“Thank you,” said Ivy, “we’ll keep a guard for now until we move our patients.”
“How are they?” asked Wraith.
“Fucked up,” said Ivy. “Ace’s shoulder is a mess, and Lily is heartbroken over both her brother and the baby.”
“All this pain because some people don’t care how they make their money, or how many lives they damage and destroy,” said Wraith. “Good for my job security, terrible for the rest of the world.”
“Thanks for taking out another Talamantes,” said Ivy. “Did we get all of them?”
“No,” said Wraith. “There are some more basta
rds, supposedly not having anything to do with the cartel.”
Ivy snorted. “Doubt that.”
“Me too,” said Wraith. “Anyway, once we crack the lawyer and smash him like a grape, you can take a breath and recover from this nonsense.”
“Smash him like a grape,” said Ivy. “Sounds great.”
“We have a nefarious plan,” said Wraith.
“Excellent,” said Ivy, “if we can help implement it, let me know.”
“I’ll let you know, but I think we’re good.”
“Thank you,” said Ivy.
“We closed a lot of cases,” said Wraith. “Except for the body count, and that’s because the crazy bitch started shooting at an individual in front of me.”
“Who was he?” asked Ivy.
“Drug mule,” said Wraith. “The sheriff just texted me that there were hidden panels in a rusted-out car in the covered parking. They tested positive for drug residue. He’s expected to live; we’ll get names from him when he wakes up.”
“Fuck,” said Ivy. “In the most remote places in Arizona.”
“The tentacles of the beast,” said Wraith. “Keeps me employed, but I’d rather feel like we’re making some progress. Cut off one tentacle, get twelve.”
“You took out a serial killer today,” said Ivy. “Count that as a win.”
“Still finding bodies,” said Wraith. “Apparently, there’s a lot of cisterns out there.”
“She wasn’t worth the price of the bullet,” said Ivy.
“One crazy bitch,” agreed Wraith. “Gotta go, have a Valkyrie to escort home.”
“Have a good ride,” said Ivy, “see you when we get back to Vegas.”
“Sonic on me,” said Wraith, and she closed the call. She stood, stretched, and went to find herself a Valkyrie to take home.
They met with the other two in Boulder City. Wraith locked up her helmet and took a slow walk to Saber, her hips going from side to side.
“Damn, woman,” said Saber. “Missed you.” They kissed, leaning up against the bike.
Rota strode to Skuld, and they clasped wrists, then held each other’s necks, and touched foreheads. “Success?” asked Skuld.
“I shot one,” Rota said.
“First kill,” said Skuld.
“In battle,” said Rota. “And, I shot him in the neck.”
“You’ll practice,” said Skuld. “Have Wraith teach you, actually. She’s a dead shot.”
Rota nodded. “I will learn.”
“Next time,” said Skuld, poking her in the skull, then the sternum, “Head shot or chest. But, you did well.”
“Of course, I did,” said Rota. “I’m a Valkyrie.” Their kiss, when it came, lasted so long that Wraith and Saber took a walk along the beach, hands in each other’s back pockets.
On their walk, Wraith and Saber stopped to kiss, walked some more, then kissed again. Skuld and Rota eventually caught up with them. They pitched tents well away from one another, made a fire, and ate grilled fish and potato salad and s’mores by the light of the moon. Wraith and Saber told stories about busts and life on the road. Skuld talked about being both a metal band member —drums and guitar, occasionally bass, and a coder and mixer for a studio. Adding teaching defense classes to police and the general public. Rota was a climbing trail guide, helping people learn to climb, from easy to impossible rock faces.
“Damn!” said Wraith. “You make me look like a lightweight.”
“You’re a crack shot,” said Skuld. “Teach Rota.”
“Anytime I’m not neck deep in alligators,” said Wraith.
Saber snorted. “We’re almost always neck deep in alligators.”
“The little ones are kinda cute,” said Rota. “Nasty boy David’s alligator boots really pissed me off. So, I shot him.”
“That’ll teach them, alligator-boot-wearing guys,” said Skuld.
“Yeah,” said Wraith. “Such a waste. Now he’s dead. Some alligator died for nothing. Those boots will probably get donated to the Salvation Army.”
“Well,” said Saber. “Now some homeless guy’s gonna be wearing thousand-dollar boots.”
Skuld sang and Rota joined in, the Pink song about being fucking perfect. Wraith started Fight Song by Rachael Patten, Confident by Demi Lavato, and they went into Meredith Brooks,’ Bitch. They ended with Beyonce’s Grown Woman.
“My God,” said Saber. “I feel so emasculated.”
“We gotta stop,” said Wraith. “Need to keep his parts, because they’re my toys for later.”
Skuld grinned. “On that note, we’d better go to bed.”
Rota stood, took Skuld’s hand, and helped her stand. They walked back to the tent, long strides eating up the ground.
They zipped the sleeping bags together, made pillows out of rolled clothes. They came together, unzipping leather with fast, confident hands. Their black and silver T-shirts were emblazoned with a woman on a horse, breastplate polished, sword held high. They took them off, and carefully rolled them up. Rota’s bra was black lace, lined with pink, and Skuld’s was all black. They stroked, licked, put fingers in each other’s mouths. Rota unhooked Skuld’s bra, then held the spill of breasts in her hands. Skuld’s breasts were round, with dark, erect nipples. Rota pinched them in her fingers, made them rise. She bent forward, and sucked each nipple, making Skuld gasp.
Skuld pulled down Rota’s underwear and thrust her fingers deep inside. Rota gasped and moaned, and bucked into the fingers, driving them deeper inside her. Skuld broke open the front snap of her bra with one hand, grasping Rota’s small breasts, then began ruthlessly kissing and sucking them. Rota arched her back, screaming. She came, gasping, sweat breaking out in between her breasts, with wetness flowing over Skuld’s fingers. Skuld made her come again, and again, screaming and gasping. Finally, Skuld took out wet wipes, wiped her fingers, wiped Rota’s wetness, and kissed her deep and slow.
Then, it was Rota’s turn, pulling off Skuld’s thong, driving her fingers into her, again and again. She bent her fingers, found the spot inside, and made Skuld groan. She pulled back on Skuld’s hair, kissed her throat, making the silver feather dangling from her ear dance. Skuld came, driving herself into Rota’s fingers. Their bodies were perfect, silhouettes of silver in the moonlight. She came again, again. Then, she took her fingers out and cleaned them both up with a wet wipe. They held each other, sitting up, legs wrapped around each other, fingers wrapped in each other’s hair, their kisses deep and slow. They went deep then, deep inside, stopping to clasp each other’s necks, touch foreheads, and stare into each other’s eyes. They slid into the sleeping bag, still holding on, entwining once more. They slid into sleep, still grasping one another in the dark.
In the morning, Saber and Wraith were still kissing. Saber ran his fingers up and down her leg. Wraith bit his lip, stroked the back of his neck, dug her claws into his tight biceps. He groaned and stroked her from her neck to her buttocks. She moaned and kissed him deeply.
He fiddled with the ends of her hair, smiling. “Love the new color. Candy lady.”
“What kind of candy?” she asked, smiling back.
“Cinnamon,” he said. “You are one spicy lady.”
“Shut up,” she said, running her claws down from his neck to his groin.
He groaned, kissed her. “I’m not sure I can do it again,” he whispered in her ear.
“Shut up,” she said again, moving her fingers to just under his balls. He groaned again, and found himself (despite his exhaustion), beginning to rise again.
She used claws, lips, and teeth; grinding his emotions into a keen razor edge, based on more than a little fear as she got very close to the family jewels with her teeth. She slid on a condom, slid herself onto him. They moved slowly, his fingers in her hair, her teeth on his neck. He came in one long gasp, ready to do whatever she needed to make her come, but she was there, too, on the edge. Magnificently, she came, gasping and wriggling into his neck, her teeth doing one last nibble. They held onto eac
h other, gasping, and she slid off of him, reaching blindly for the few wet wipes left. She wiped them both down, and they fell as if they were timber, onto the sleeping bag.
“Woman,” he said, “you’re trying to kill me.”
“Absolutely,” she said. “You’ve found my secret. Sex kills, you know.”
He laughed into her neck. “You won’t get anything, you know. No life insurance to speak of. We’re not married yet.”
She stilled under his hands. She grasped the back of his head. “If you marry me, understand that this is a freedom. You can walk away at any time. Just know, if you go, I’m going to walk away, too. If you stay, you’ll have my love, my life, my all. I will breathe breaths with you. I will walk the same path, as much as I can, but never in your same steps, and never behind you. We’re equals, or we are nothing. Choose. Choose wisely. I have one of the strongest hearts. If you break it, I will survive. But, if you do, you lose the best woman you have ever had, or will have, now and forever.”
He looked into her eyes, willing himself not to make a mistake due to exhaustion. “I will love and cherish you, and wait for you if you go, and keep the light on for you. I will never walk ahead of you, always beside you. I will be here for you, every day, now and forever.” She smiled, and his heart stopped with her beauty. “Let’s get married,” he said.
“Yes,” she said.
“Love you,” he said.
“Always,” she said.
By the time they made it out of the tent, the Valkyries had already stowed their tent.
“Good morning,” said Rota. Wraith stepped forward, and they did the Valkyrie neck embrace.
They touched foreheads. “You can ride with me anytime,” said Wraith.
“Teach me,” said Rota.
“I will,” said Wraith. “Sisters always.”
“Always,” said Rota.
Skuld came up. She clasped Wraith’s arm. “I’ll ride with you anytime,” she said.
“And I with you.”
She turned to Wraith. “Sister,” she said.
“Always,” said Wraith. They did the head clasp and forehead touch. “We came back with our shields,” said Wraith.
“Not on them,” said Skuld.
“I ride later,” said Wraith, letting her go. “I have a second.”
