“You’re awake?” asked Derrick.
“Yes, genius, now let the medic go and thank him for his services,” she muttered in response.
“Fine,” Derrick mumbled. Lexia heard the click and scuff of the door opening and closing.
Sitting up, Lexia looked at the three people staring at her. “I’m quite certain I said no medics, Marcus.”
“Couldn’t just let you bleed to death,” Marcus answered with a sly smile.
Marcus was right, yet she’d declined a medic because she’d known it would end with lives being threatened. When it came to her safety, Derrick acted nothing but irrational. “And honestly, Derrick, were you really going to kill the poor man?”
“If it kept you safe, yes.” Derrick crossed his arms in front of his chest, clearly ready to argue his point.
Lexia laid back, deciding she didn’t have the energy to argue. It was so much easier when I had Doc on tap. Just thinking of him brought many painful memories to the surface of her mind. Eyes closed, Lexia sucked in a shaky breath and blew it out, forcing the feelings with it.
“Are you all right? Does the wound hurt?” Belinda asked. Lexia heard the soft pad of her feet. Opening her eyes, she looked into the soft gold of Belinda’s.
“No, the wound doesn’t hurt.”
Belinda frowned, clearly confused why Lexia had tears in her eyes. “What’s the matter then?” she asked.
“I can’t stay,” Lexia answered softly, already feeling herself slip away as the weight of her emotions crushed her.
“You’ve not got much of a choice, Lex, at least for now. You’ve the opportunity now to find out things no one else knows. You may find the key to shutting this whole operation down.” Derrick stepped closer, his eyes containing the emotion he normally hid.
They think they have you back, Lexia. Fools.
Go away, Maura.
Why? You want me really. After all, I am your defense against the emotions you cannot contain.
“No, Derrick, you misunderstand. I can’t stay here.” She placed a finger on her head. “It hurts too much. I can’t live with the things I’ve done, the people I’ve lost. I can’t stay here.” Lexia closed her eyes.
“Lexia!” Derrick growled. She could hear the anger and the fear in his tone.
Slipping back into the depths of her mind where she felt no pain, no loss, no guilt, Maura took control, both willing and pleased.
Maura opened her eyes, revealing the cold, gold depths. “It’s just little old me now, Derrick, and oh, aren’t we going to have fun playing with my mother.” Her twisted smile was wrong and so much like the woman’s she called Mother.
“Maura,” Derrick hissed, his hands clenching.
“Not pleased to see me?” Maura asked, her voice sickly sweet. “I thought you needed me to play with Mother?”
“This isn’t a game, Maura. Lives are at stake.” Derrick looked torn between whether to hit her or shake her.
Maura stood from the bed and strolled leisurely around her room weaving between Derrick, Marcus and Belinda. She took far too much pleasure in winding them up. “Life is a game, Derrick, but I’ll behave,” she paused, her next words only for Derrick, “for now.”
Staring at the three of them, Maura suddenly wondered why she kept them around, the answer just as baffling as the question…Because they’re friends.
I don’t need friends.
Everyone needs friends, Maura.
“Go away then. I need to heal,” Maura said, waving her hands at them. “Shoo.”
Chapter 8
Maura marched through the compound with a feeling swirling through her veins that she’d never felt before.
Dread.
Her fingers flexed, cracking with each bend. Rigid with tension, it wasn’t a feeling she liked.
For three days, she’d managed to avoid them: Derrick, Belinda and Marcus. Her mother was still in the medical center; well, that was what she’d heard from the whispers always circling through the compound. So far, she’d done as Derrick had asked. She’d not picked a single fight. She’d followed every rule.
Why she was playing along, why she even cared what happened to them, Maura couldn’t comprehend. You are poisoning my mind with your silly emotions, Lexia.
Is it really that hard for you to admit you care a little for them?
I don’t care about anything, Lexia. To care is to die. Your emotions are your weakness, Lexia. I would have thought the fact you are hiding within your own mind would have been evidence enough.
Maura paused in her tracks. The noise drifting through the training room’s doors glued her feet to the spot. It sounded as if every person in the compound had been crammed into the space. Why had she been instructed to come here? What was waiting for her?
Lexia stirred within her as the dread intensified. What does she have planned? Both Maura and Lexia mused.
Enough! I am Maura. I do not care what Mother has planned! Her fingers clenched and unclenched, each one of her knuckles cracking. She shook out her arms, allowing the tension to drain from her limbs.
I am Maura. I feel nothing.
Maura’s plan had been to push the doors open with such a force that they slammed against the walls, drawing everyone’s attention to her arrival, but the second she caught a glimpse inside the room, her fingers clawed the edge of the doors, slowing their journey.
Only the few nearest to the doors noticed her walk in. A quick deadly stare forced them all to look away. Maura smiled to herself. See, I still instill fear in them. She spoke to herself more than Lexia; she needed the reminder. She needed to remember who she was.
Maura made her way silently through the crowd, her eyes on her mother who stood on the makeshift stage which had been erected near the far wall. Lucy looked bored. Derrick stood by her side, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, his expression one of indifference, though Maura could see through his mask.
What is this? Maura wondered.
An execution. Isn’t it obvious, Maura?
Well, yes…but why do I need to be here?
Lexia never had a chance to answer her.
“Maura dear, how nice of you to join us.” Lucy clapped her hands, bringing the crowd to silence.
This will be fun!
Quiet, Lexia, unless you’d like our mother to notice and kill your friends?
Fine.
Time to put on my game face.
“Mother, I’m sorry I wasn’t aware there was something planned for this morning,” Maura replied, stepping up onto the stage, glancing briefly at Derrick as she passed.
“No need to apologize. Just something I planned last minute. Now you’re here, we can start.”
There was a muffled shout from the far corner of the stage. Maura looked at the person tied up, recognizing him as an elite but not recalling his name.
“So what have you planned?” Maura asked, standing next to her mother. The urge to clench her hands was hard to ignore; talking to her mother with respect, even harder.
Lucy smiled sweetly at her, and then turned to the crowd, looking cruel and twisted. She took a step forward addressing the crowd. “Why, Mathew’s punishment of course. How silly of him to believe he could overthrow my crown.” She laughed, surveying the crowd.
Maura stared, not sure what Mathew had done. She’d killed Wade for stabbing her with the poison laced blade and then Belemy when he tried to turn the hunters against her. Either Mathew had been involved in planning Wade and Belemy’s plans or Lucy wanted to punish someone in public. Mathew just happened to be the person she picked. Maura had a feeling it was the latter.
“And of course we need to discuss your punishment, Maura,” Lucy directed at her.
“Punishment?” Maura ground out. Who the hell does she think she is?
Maura, please, stay calm, Lexia begged Maura from within.
“Why, yes, dear, you did attack me. That cannot go unpunished.”
Maura’s fists clenched, the sharp edge of her n
ails biting into her skin. She ground her teeth together as she faced her mother. “You provoked me!” she hissed, the grip on her control slipping.
“Yes, well things did get a little out of control. Do not look so worried, sweetie. It’s not like I’m sentencing you to death like Mathew.”
Mathew shouted, his face terrified, voice garbled by the gag in his mouth.
“What do you plan on doing to her then?” Derrick interrupted.
Maura watched her mother’s face harden, her nostrils flared before she smoothed her mask back into place. Twisting on the spot, she answered, “Oh, Derrick, I forgot you were here.” Lips pressing together, head tilting as if in sympathy, she continued, “I’m afraid you are in need of punishment too.” She turned to face the crowd, her boots echoing with each slow, deliberate step she took. “Hunters fighting amongst themselves, attacking the humans we share this compound with. Disgraceful! It was as if you’d all turned into the very animals I’d like to eradicate from this earth.”
Every hunter in the training center stared unblinking at Lucy, eyes wide. The fear in the room was a potent thing. Maura wanted nothing more than to march out and tell her mother what she thought, yet her legs wouldn’t move. Her eyes kept focusing on Marcus and Belinda, standing together in the crowd.
Why do I even care if they suffer because of me? This is foolish.
Lucy interrupted Maura’s thoughts. “So back to the subject of punishment. Mathew’s sentence is death. Derrick will take twenty lashings for attacking his own, and Maura will receive thirty for attacking me. Do not let the past few days lead you to believe my leadership is slipping. Anyone else found stepping out of line will receive one warning before receiving the death penalty.” Lucy clapped, making the crowd jump. Her voice turned back to her sickly sweet tone. “Shall we proceed? Mathew can go first.”
Maura stood frozen while someone brought Mathew forward, slinging him down on his knees and handing a sword to her mother. She couldn’t even focus on the fact Mathew was being executed; her brain still processing the thirty lashings she was to receive – for something she’d quite like to do again. Her every cell screamed to do something, to leave, to protest, but there was more than just Maura inside. Lexia shared the same body. She might have been pushed back, she might have been hiding behind the mask that was Maura, but she was still there and she still cared.
I am not taking thirty lashings for your friends! I’m leaving.
Maura took a few steps toward the edge of the stage. Lucy’s voice stopped Maura in her tracks. “Why, Maura, you’re not leaving, are you? I was going to give you the honor of beheading Mathew.”
“The pleasure should be yours, Mother. After all, he tried to take over your compound.”
“I insist,” Lucy ground out, holding out the sword. Its smooth, deadly blade glinted in the harsh light.
“Maura,” Derrick hissed quietly, his eyes begging.
“Very well.” Maura turned and faced Mathew.
His face was white with fear, one eye half closed with bruises. Beads of sweat slowly trickled down his face and collected in the rag tied tightly around his mouth. With each step Maura took, more emotion awoke within her. Steps faltering, Maura struggled to keep Lexia back.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this. No more blood. No more blood…
You’re not doing this. I am!
No more blood.
Maura clasped the sword, moving beside Mathew as Lucy stepped away.
Maura’s knees trembled. Lexia! Maura fought against the emotions she didn’t understand, eyes closing in concentration. But it was too late. Her eyes opened, revealing the clear crystal blue of Lexia. Mathew’s eyes grew impossibly wide; he fought against his restraints, his muffled words becoming more and more frantic.
Lexia glanced up as she raised the sword. Her eyes skimmed briefly to Derrick. For the briefest of moments, she saw emotion flare in his eyes before he regained control. I don’t want to do this. Lexia levelled the sword with his head. So many emotions churned within her fractured psyche. I have no choice. She thought of her friends, of the people in this very room who would die if Lucy found out how truly broken she was.
“W-t, wa-t, Lex-a, sh-he, et, ou, u-up.” Lexia paused as Mathew spoke his garbled message.
“What?” she whispered, stepping closer.
“Move it along, Maura!” Lucy snapped.
“L-uc-y, et, y-ou, u-up,” he repeated.
“She set me up? She planned for me to be stabbed? Did she give Wade the poison?” Lexia asked in the lowest of whispers.
Mathew nodded, his eyes briefly filling with hope.
It took a few seconds for Lexia to realize this knowledge changed nothing. She still had to kill him; her friends still came first. Gripping the sword tighter, Lexia breathed deeply, the air blew out of her leaving behind a cool resolve. “I’m sorry.”
Mathew didn’t even have time to gasp. Lexia swung the sword up into the air. It shone in the light as it fell, slicing through flesh and bone. Lexia closed her eyes as the head thudded onto the floor. Her hands trembled as the depth of emotions grew too much to bear. She begged for Maura to come back, to help her control the things she wasn’t ready to face.
Lucy’s claps echoed off the concrete walls. Lexia flinched. She stared at Derrick, silently asking him if her eyes were gold.
A slight indication of his head. No.
Shit, shit, shit…
She clenched her hands trying to stop the shaking. Her body a vessel of emotion, Lexia had no control; she was too far gone.
“On to the lashings then!” Lucy said with glee.
A haze of red engulfed her.
Lexia looked at Derrick, but in her mind, she saw every face she loved and lost; her father, her best friend, her mate, her pack.
Rage flowed through her veins like molten lava, setting fire to the power inside of her and giving her the glow of her golden eyes.
Derrick smiled, his shoulders relaxing.
“Who’s first?” Lucy asked with a laugh.
Lexia turned to face the mother she hated more than anything in this world. Her expression blank, she took a step forward.
“Maura then?” Lucy asked, gesturing toward the wall on the right.
Lexia looked up at the shackles Lucy had put onto the walls. As she stepped toward them, she didn’t think of the pain of the lashings, but if she’d be able to keep her eyes golden.
“Wait!” Derrick called; he rushed toward Lexia, his hand gripping her arm. “I’ll take her punishment.”
“What? No,” Lexia gasped, pulling herself free.
“Ooh, this is interesting!” Lucy gasped, the smile on her face like a giddy teenager’s. “Why would you do that?”
“We cannot afford for Maura to be vulnerable when she was so recently attacked,” Derrick stated calmly.
“No, Derrick, you’d have to have fifty lashings. It will take you days to heal!”
Hushed whispers filled the air as Derrick and Lexia argued. Derrick grasped her arms, lowering his head so they were eye to eye. “Far better for me to be out for days than you.”
“I heal quicker than you,” she argued quietly.
His eyes narrowed, lips thinning as he spoke. “Tell me this, can you keep your eyes golden?”
Lexia took too long to respond. He had her. She had no idea and if Lucy saw, Derrick, Belinda and Marcus were dead.
Striding to the shackles, he showed no emotion as he left her standing on the stage in silence.
“Brilliant!” Lucy cooed. “We have a volunteer.” She faced the crowd, her smile suddenly slipping. “You! Shackle him!” she barked, pointing at the nearest hunter.
Lexia stood frozen on the stage, staring at Derrick being shackled. Her fingers curled into her palms, the bite of her nails drawing blood. Every part of her longed to do something; stop this crazy stunt.
Easy, Lexia, remember you are supposed to be following her.
Go away, Maura! Lexia growled into her min
d. For the first time in a long time, she wished she could be in sole control of her body.
Her pulse boomed through her skull, the whoosh of blood muting every other noise in the room. She didn’t realize Lucy was talking to her until she felt every pair of eyes in the room on her.
“Maura?” Lucy snapped, the set of her mouth and redness of her skin an indication she’d been waiting for an answer for a while.
“Sorry, Mother, what did you say?” Lexia asked.
“I said, you will be carrying out his punishment.” The smile on Lucy’s face told Lexia all she needed to know, her expression showed every bit of horror she felt.
I can’t do this!
Allow me.
Lexia breathed deeply, and with the rush of air that left her lungs, Lexia left her mind. She retreated within the deepest depths, allowing Maura to face what she could not.
“Certainly, Mother,” Maura answered.
She took the whip, and for the barest of moments, she didn’t want to do this to her friend. The thought left as quickly as it came, but for one fleeting moment, Maura felt something.
Derrick passed out after the thirty strikes of the whip, his back a blooded mess, drops scattered around him with each flick of the whip. When Maura was finished, she walked out of the room, not caring what her mother thought. Her steps were quick and light as she made her way through corridors, each blending into the next.
Maura had a violent almost uncontrollable urge to kill, but not kill just anyone. She wanted, needed to kill her mother. Maura didn’t like to be manipulated. She didn’t like anyone getting the best of her. Her fist shot out connecting with the wall as she let out an enraged scream.
“Why did I even do as she asked? Why do I care what happens to them? I am Maura. I feel nothing!” Her words echoed around the empty corridor.
Smudges of blood coated her knuckles, the only evidence of her outburst, the skin having already healed.
“This is your fault, Lexia. You are tainting my mind, making me care about things I shouldn’t,” she hissed.
Holocaust (The Deadwood Hunter Series Book 3) Page 5
