The Black Knights

by Matilda Reyes

“Yes,” said Nicholas and the other people with him.

  “Vernon took out a syringe. Get in there,” said Mercer. “He injected the first person. Go!”

  Jordan and I rushed through the door and were confronted with two armed men. Fury rose through me. I didn’t bother with my abilities and clubbed my man in the head with the butt of my gun with enough force to crush his skull. He crumpled, dead before he hit the ground. I stalked forward and into the main room as Vernon plunged the needle into the neck of a struggling Nicholas.

  “No!” I screamed.

  Nicholas blinked twice and frowned. “Jas? What are you doing here? How’d you find me?”

  Vernon grabbed Nicholas by the face. “Is that her? The Jasper?”

  He nodded and slumped into the arms of a thug behind him.

  Chaos erupted. We were right. Everyone in that room was armed and ready to battle to the death. Good. So were we. I pulled out my handgun and aimed at the nearest person, a brawny man with a stiletto in a tight grip. I aimed and shot him in the head.

  I dropped to the floor. The hawkish woman who’d snapped at Nicholas earlier had tackled me from behind, knocking me off balance and slamming me against the cheap linoleum panels. She shouted and hacked at me with a knife of her own.

  Hell no. I was not getting stabbed again. Not so soon, at least. I wriggled onto my back and kicked her chest. She flinched and tried to dive on top of me. As she flew downward, I kicked up again. My foot drove into her chin, snapping her head back, stunning her. She should have gone down. She shouldn’t have been able to function. But she got up, mouth bloody and jaw crooked, and swung her arm in an arc down at me. I scrabbled for another gun, the one at the small of my back. My hands shook as I pulled the trigger. The first bullet tore through her right shoulder. She kept on coming. The next shot went through her neck, and the one after that hit her in the center of her forehead. She collapsed.

  I clawed my way to my feet and screamed, “Nicholas!”

  The man that had caught him from hitting the floor was dragging him across the warehouse. Nicholas wasn’t unconscious and was trying to pull free, but whatever was in that syringe was making him lethargic.

  “I’m fine, Jas. It’s okay,” he shouted, his voice steady. “Watch your back!”

  Amidst gunfire and the thudding of bodies all around, I pushed through the crowd toward Nicholas. Every step was a struggle. The number of cult members felt like it had multiplied. And they would not go down. Shot, stabbed, nothing worked until their brain stopped working.

  “Aim for the head,” someone yelled.

  A petite blonde screamed as she threw herself at my legs. She gnashed her teeth and bit me. She. Bit. Me. And it hurt like hell. She didn’t break the thick fabric of my pants although she knocked me down to one knee. Wobbling, I smacked her head, gun still in my hand. I couldn’t shoot her while she was attached to my leg without hurting myself.

  “Nicholas! Nick! I’m coming. Hold on!” I hollered as I beat zombie girl around the face. I pistol-whipped her like it was my job. She groaned, and her head fell back. Using both hands, I pushed her off and shot her in the face.

  Nicholas had regained energy and was putting up an actual fight. He broke the hold on his shoulder and crawled to a nearby pillar. I watched him force himself into a standing position and take a wobbling fighting stance. What wasn’t clear was who he was trying to fight: us or the cult.

  I held my gun up and shot at anyone who looked my way, inching closer and closer to him. Almost there. I could see his chest heaving as he fought off whatever was in his system. His healing abilities must have counteracted the drug, giving him a chance.

  Across from me, Nolo, Brett’s friend, lifted a gun and pointed the barrel at Nicholas. I screamed. Nicholas turned toward me, panic written on his face.

  “Run!”

  He slumped against the wall as if too exhausted to move. Time slowed down as Nolo pulled the trigger. I swore I could see the bullet traveling across the room, heading towards Nick’s chest.

  Out of nowhere, a large mass jumped in front of Nicholas and pushed him to the ground.

  Jordan.

  Jordan had taken a bullet for Nicholas. My ability to control myself disappeared and I lit up like a frigging sparkler. I dropped my gun, and my hands shot out bursts of energy at anything nearby. I almost didn’t hear the screams of agony as skin burned and hair melted. I plowed through them all on my way to Jordan and Nicholas, energy sizzling out of me with no thought on my part.

  “Nick, are you okay?”

  “He saved me,” he said. “I’m fine.”

  Jordan, however, lay on the floor, staring up with blank eyes. The bullet had sliced his neck, and he was bleeding out fast.

  “No, no, oh no,” I babbled as I put pressure on the wound. “Jordy, no. Talk to me.”

  “Promised to take care of you,” he mumbled. “Not gonna die. Can’t.”

  Then he passed out.

  “Nick, help me. Please,” I begged.

  Nicholas stared at his hands in horror. “I can’t. It’s not working. I can’t feel my abilities.”

  “No,” I moaned. “Jordy, please don’t do this. Please, I’m begging you.”

  Around us, the barrage of weapon fire had slowed, the room quieting as our team eliminated those damn near unstoppable freaks. Footsteps surrounded us as Jordan’s blood leaked through my hands.

  The world spun. My hands shook, and sweat poured down my forehead. Nicholas grabbed me as I tilted to one side. He sounded far away as if speaking through thick glass.

  “Jasper, I have to go. I have to leave with them if I’m going to sell this. I’ll be in touch soon. Don’t come after me.”

  “But Jordan—”

  “He’ll be fine. I have to go.” He kissed my forehead and tore out of the warehouse after the fleeing cult members.

  “He dies, I die,” I said. “I’m sorry.” I sighed and fell into darkness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  AIR FILLED MY LUNGS with the force of a leaf blower. I gagged and coughed as my lungs expanded to near-explosion levels, swatting at the source of the pain.

  “I need you to relax. I was performing CPR,” said a distant voice. “Glad to see you among the living.”

  I forced my eyelids open and observed Jones standing over me. He rechecked my vitals, making approving noises as he worked. I tried to sit up, but his strong hands kept me in place.

  “Not yet. We want to take you to the hospital. You stopped breathing for no discernible reason.”

  “Can’t go to the hospital. Where is everyone? Nicholas? Jordy?”

  “I don’t know about a Nicholas, but we had to take Jordan to the emergency room. He was losing too much blood, and he was also unconscious. There was nothing I could do for him here.”

  “I need to see him. Where is everyone?”

  “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked. “All I saw was Nicholas running away from you both. You were covered in Jordan’s blood, and he was already out.”

  I stared at my hands, stained red with drying, sticky blood and wanted to vomit. Jordan was alive; I knew that much because I was still alive. Beyond that, it was anyone’s guess. And Nicholas, I didn’t know what to think about him. He claimed that he couldn’t heal Jordan and took off with the cult as if the most important thing was the mission. Maybe I was biased because the mission had flown out of my mind the minute two men I cared for deeply were threatened.

  If Nicholas was thinking, he could have claimed to want to protect his ex-girlfriend in the middle of the madness, nothing more. If he wasn’t… I shuddered to think what would happen to him. There were too many questions. What had been in that syringe? Where were they going? What were they planning to do with Nicholas and the other newcomers?

  “Boss,” said Voss in that quiet, firm voice. “We need to get out of here.”

  “Do we know what happened to Nicholas? What about everyone else?”

  “We haven’t able to find Nicholas
. Carter was injured, just a dislocated shoulder.”

  “What about the warehouse?”

  “We have cleaners handling the situation. They should be finished any time now. Jordan had given me their number just in case.”

  “We have to find Nicholas. There must have been traces.”

  “Just some tire marks in the parking lot. The best-case scenario is that they captured him and took him with them.”

  “Do we still have Brett?”

  “He’s in bad shape.”

  “That’s nothing compared to how he’ll be when I’m done with him,” I growled. “First things first. Let’s get to Jordan and make sure he will be okay. Then we’re going after Nicholas.”

  “How?”

  “Brett. We’ll go to every place he’s ever been with the cult. I’ll knock down every gods damn door. I’ll tear Carlo’s condo apart. I’ll stalk his gym. There is nothing I won’t do to get him back. I don’t know how he thinks this will play out now. He’s in so much danger.”

  Hernandez came to my side. “We need to get you back to the safe house so you can get rest. Nicholas will have to wait until we can regroup. He can hold his own. Trust him to sell his story and do the job.”

  “I need to get out of here.” I sat up and scowled at the IV attached to my arm. “How the hell did Jones manage this?”

  My favorite medic smiled. “I may have overpacked medical supplies, just in case things went wrong. It’s a good thing I did. Stay and I’ll disconnect you. Hernandez can drive you home.”

  “Uh, no. We’re going to the hospital to see Jordan. He shouldn’t be alone.”

  Hernandez agreed with me. There was nothing wrong with me except that I’d stopped breathing and had a welt on my neck, the same place where Jordan had been shot. No wonder I ached. It only took a little threatening to be unhooked from the monitors and tubing. I lied when I promised to take it easy. Voss handed me ibuprofen for my headache and a bottle of water.

  “Don’t let him rush out of the hospital. He may need surgery and will have to stay put for a while. He won’t like that.”

  I snorted. “If they’re smart, they’ll sedate him before they do anything.”

  When Hernandez pulled up in a gray sedan, Jones helped me off the floor and into the front seat of the vehicle. Voss gave us brief directions to the small hospital in a bad part of town that didn’t ask many questions where Jordan was being treated. I gave him a grateful hug and commanded Hernandez to drive.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The facility where we found Jordan could barely be called a hospital. A clinic would have been more appropriate. And a shady one at that. Whatever. They didn’t look twice at our identification or question us when we claimed that we were Jordan’s girlfriend and uncle, respectively.

  I rushed in and found him half-asleep and scowling. “You idiot,” I breathed as I took his hand and brushed my fingers through his hair. “You could have died.”

  “Told you. I protect you. You would have taken the bullet for him, so I stopped you,” he mumbled. “They gave me drugs. Told them to stop it.”

  “You also had a transfusion and surgery. You almost bled out.”

  “Exaggeration,” he said. “What did I miss?”

  Hernandez filled him in, leaving nothing out. Jordan swore under his breath and clenched his fist.

  “Calm down before they make you stay for days.”

  “I’ve been here the better part of the night. Once the doctor tells me I’m not going to bleed if I move, I’m out of here. We have to find Nicholas. I’m going to kill him.”

  “You took a bullet for him, and he ran away with them,” said Hernandez. “What a jerk. No offense, boss.”

  My lips quirked into a crooked smile. “None taken. I will beat him senseless when we get him back.”

  “Uh-uh,” said Jordan. “Me first. I think I died. Did you?”

  “Not now,” I replied, jerking my head toward Hernandez. “They said I stopped breathing for a few moments. A very handsome young man named Jones gave me CPR. I think he likes me.”

  Jordan opened one eye and growled low in his throat. “Not funny. We need to leave.”

  Hernandez volunteered to find the doctor who’d treated him while we waited.

  “You gave me a heart attack. And that was before I passed out,” I said. We still held hands, and my fingers ran through his hair. “Aside from the obvious, you can’t die on me.”

  He smiled. “Someone likes me,” he sang, feeling the effect of the drugs. “I knew it. ‘S okay. I like you, too. Sometimes I think it’s more than that.”

  Mortified by his confession, I froze. Nicholas was missing, and Jordan was opening up, and I didn’t know what to think. Over the last few years, I’d thought I’d more than liked him too.

  My hands shook as I caressed his cheek. “You’re high out of your mind.”

  He leaned into my hand and nodded. “Happens. Too honest under the influence. Makes me stupid. Forget I said anything.”

  “Said what?”

  Turning, he kissed my palm. “Thank you. Now get me out of here.”

  I dropped my hand as Hernandez walked back in with a portly doctor in a pair of scrubs with too-long bangs hanging in her eyes. She looked too sharp as she took in our interlocked fingers and the dopey expression on Jordan’s face.

  “My name is Dr. Taveras. Your boyfriend needs more fluids and sleep. The stitches sealed up the wound, and it looks like he will heal well, but he shouldn’t move around much for a couple of weeks. I take it you’re not here to stay overnight.”

  My face warmed. “He wants to leave.”

  “I can’t make him stay although my professional opinion is that he needs to be moved to a larger hospital and stay in intensive care.”

  “I agree, but there’s no arguing with him,” I said.

  Dr. Taveras sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Are you going to tell me what happened so I can better advise you?”

  Jordan coughed and winced. “Nothing happened. Freak accident. I’m fine.”

  “Right,” she drawled. “If I can’t convince you to stay, follow my directions to the letter. Change the dressings twice a day. Keep it clean and dry. If there’s any discharge that looks like pus and smells, get him to a doctor. If he bleeds more than a few drops, get him to the hospital. Can you manage that?”

  Hernandez squeezed Jordan’s foot. “We’ll take care of him.”

  “Mr.… what are you calling yourself?”

  “McMurray,” said Jordan. “Jamie McMurray.”

  “Whatever. Do you understand the instructions?” At his nod, Dr. Taveras unhooked the IV from his arm, bandaged him up, and helped him sit. He breathed through his nose several times.

  “Room is spinning.”

  “You need to stay,” said the doctor.

  “Sorry, Doc,” said Hernandez. “Our boy wants to see his bed, and he’s a beast when he doesn’t get his way.”

  Jordan snorted. “I’m fine now. Just sat up too fast. Uncle Pete, help me get dressed?”

  I turned away as they worked together to wedge on his jeans and get his sweater over his head. The doctor eyed me as she gathered a handful of medical supplies and put them in a plastic bag.

  “This should be enough to get you through a week of changing the bandages. I’ve included antibiotics and pain medication. Come back here if he has any trouble.”

  I took the bag and murmured my thanks. Jordan got to his feet. Hernandez and I each put an arm around our shoulders to help him steady himself. Once we got him into the backseat of the car, he groaned.

  “We need to go back to the warehouse for clues.”

  “The team is already handling it,” said Hernandez. “They’re searching the bodies, the room, and the cars around the area. Mercer is reviewing the video for anything useful.”

  “Why would Nicholas run?” I wondered. “He was with us. He was safe.”

  “Did he say or do anything unusual?”

  “He fought to get
to me but didn’t take anyone out.”

  “Let’s get back to the house and regroup,” said Hernandez. “We can all get a few hours’ sleep and figure out what we know.”

  “He may not have that long,” I whispered.

  Jordan squeezed my shoulder from behind. “Nicholas is a lot of things. Hardheaded, arrogant, impetuous, and an asshole, just to name a few. But he’s not stupid. He has a plan. It might be dumb and dangerous, but he has something in mind. We just have to figure out what he’s doing.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  BETWEEN THE HANDFUL OF pills Voss had in his stash, the supplies from Dr. Taveras, and the medic kit Jones always had nearby, we were in a better position to take care of Jordan’s neck than we’d been when I’d gotten stabbed. If he had stayed still, we would have been golden. As soon as the drugs wore off enough for him to be coherent, he swatted away anyone who dared ask him how he felt, even when he listed to the side and dozed off in the middle of a planning meeting.

  “I’m fine,” he snapped for the third time in fifteen minutes, this time to no one in particular and in response to absolutely nothing. He pointed at the map again. “As soon as it gets dark, we hit every single one of those locations.”

  “They’re not taking him to a bar,” said Graves.

  “Did we kill everyone in the warehouse?” he demanded.

  “No,” said Carter. “A lot got out. Only the super soldiers remained after the chaos broke out. I’d venture a good twenty people escaped.”

  “Exactly,” said Jordan. “We will find every last one of them and get answers. I don’t care how long it takes or what we have to do. We’re getting him back.”

  “That’s my line,” I said. “Regardless, Jordan’s right. Once I get rest, we will find out what else Brett has been hiding from us. Then I’m done with him. Do what you will. I don’t care anymore.”

  Mikael laid another map on top with half a dozen red circles drawn on it. “I have contacted Vespers in the area. These mark spots where they feel that they may have been followed or watched. It may not lead to anything.”

  “Any lead is a good lead,” I said. “Tie up Brett, and everyone get sleep.”