For the Good of All

by Nicky Charles

  A hostage. For a moment he waivered. How could he think of Christina that way? How could he stay aloof and make the logical decisions needed, the decisions that were in the best interest of everyone?

  The witch is ours. We gave her our blood. His wolf paced nervously wondering what to do. Yet the drug lord cannot be allowed to live. Too many have suffered because of him.

  Dante had been right; for the good of all wasn’t always pretty.

  “Let her go.” A stupid thing to say but keeping the man talking would perhaps buy some time.

  Mendoza laughed. “Why would I do that? You’ll kill me as soon as I do. Your kind doesn’t let anyone go free.”

  “My kind?”

  “Reyes sent you, didn’t he? I fell for your trap the other day but not this time.” Mendoza glanced at Esteban and Sister Bernita. “You two, move over there, in front of me. You’ll be my shield as well as this one.”

  They slowly complied. Sister Bernita appeared pale, her hands clasped either in prayer or fear. Esteban looked as cool and aristocratic as ever, only a narrowing of his eyes showing he was thinking, plotting, biding his time.

  Stone growled. Even with two people in front of Mendoza, he could probably aim between them and kill the bastard, but Christina... Mendoza could reflexively pull the trigger when he was hit with a bullet.

  “Who is she to you?” Mendoza asked. “A girlfriend? A sister? Do you really want to be responsible for her death?”

  A lead weight settled in Stone’s stomach. Letting Mendoza go free was unacceptable yet if he didn’t, Christina would die.

  An image flashed in his mind. Back in the desert, the others being punished, tortured while he’d stood helplessly by. The feeling of defeat, failure...

  “Don’t let them break you...” Adisa’s voice played in his head.

  He blinked and took a deep breath. There had to be a way. Narrowing his eyes, he studied the situation from every angle. Could he rattle the man? Cause Mendoza to lose concentration or reveal a weakness?

  “Why are you running, Mendoza? Why not stay and fight Reyes?”

  “A strategic retreat means you live to fight another day.

  “By hiding behind a woman?”

  “Hiding? Or using an opportunity?” Mendoza began to move towards the gate, taking Christina with him, urging Sister and Esteban to move as well.

  Esteban seemed to be moving slower, creating a slightly larger window between himself and Sister Bernita. It wasn’t much but Stone readied his weapon, took a steadying breath. If he could hit Mendoza’s gun hand, the force of the strike would propel the hand upward. Should Mendoza manage to squeeze the trigger, the shot would, with any luck, fire into the air, rather than striking Christina.

  “Did you notice what I’ve done for you, Lycan?”

  Esteban’s murmured words reached him, so faint his sensitive Lycan hearing almost missed them.

  “Aim carefully and kill the bastard. With any luck, you’ll miss the witch.”

  With any luck. His wolf frowned at the choice of words. The cat has provided us with an opportunity and we will use it, but if we miss…

  Stone swallowed, tried to clear his mind, to forget the woman he loved was inches from where he was aiming. If she moved at the wrong moment, he might accidentally kill her. A bead of sweat dripped down his face. His fingers flexed on his rifle. The perfect angle, the right moment…

  “I love you, Christina. Always remember I love you.” He murmured the words and took aim.

  Tina felt the cold metal of Mendoza’s gun pressed to her skin, felt the heat of his arm wrapped around her, his body pressed to her back. His heart was pounding, his breathing was fast. She narrowed her eyes and tried to conquer her fear; he wasn’t as cool as he was acting. In front of her, Esteban and Sister stood stiffly, a human shield. Between their shoulders she could see Stone. His jaw was set, his face mirrored his name. No emotion showed. But she knew his internal struggle, could almost feel it inside her heart. He couldn’t let Mendoza go.

  She had to do something. Stone had already eliminated Mendoza’s guards, their bodies now scattered about the compound, but he shouldn’t have to be solely responsible for saving the day. Dammit, she was a witch. Ineffectual, but a witch nonetheless. There had to be something she could do.

  Rage boiled inside her as she considered what would happen if Mendoza escaped. More people treated like disposable objects, more trafficking of children. More death and fear. More innocent lives lost. The more she thought of the pig who held her in a death grip, and what he would do if allowed to go free, the more enraged she became. A fire seemed to ignite in her soul, a heat that spread outward consuming every inch of her. Her heart began to pound harder, her vision blurred. A humming filled her mind, her body seemed to vibrate to the frequency of the tuning fork in her head until the very ground beneath her trembled.

  Sister Bernita stumbled into Esteban.

  Mendoza loosened his grip. “Earthquake!”

  The entire compound began to shake. Leaves dropped from the trees, the gate creaked and swung back and forth. The cow bellowed, the chickens squawked and flapped in panic.

  The wind picked up, whirling dust into the air, buffeting the buildings, whipping her hair into her eyes. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed.

  Christina fell to her knees. Pressure built inside her head, as chaos erupted around her. Cries of fear, the cracking of wood, a loud crash. Screams. The pain grew unbearable, she gasped, clutching her temples, struggled to breathe, sure she was going to die and then...

  Silence.

  The pain was gone. The trembling inside her had stopped. She collapsed on the ground, panting, nauseous. Her face was pressed to the dirt, pebbles digging into her cheek but she felt too tired to move.

  “Christina!” Stone’s voice. Stone’s hands. He turned her over, helped her sit up. “Christina? Are you all right?”

  She opened her eyes, saw him staring at her, love and concern etched on his features. “Yeah. I think so.”

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “I am?” She touched her head, looked down at her body, confused, searching for a wound. If Mendoza had shot her, it didn’t feel like the last time.

  “No. A nosebleed.”

  “Oh.” She inelegantly wiped her nose on the back of her hand, a streak of blood showing. “I don’t remember hitting it on anything.”

  Stone tilted her face upward. “Your eyes are purple, too. Hardly any brown showing at all.”

  “Wow. Red nose, purple eyes. I haven’t tried that colour combination before.” She tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob. “What happened?”

  “Most will say an earthquake, but,” Stone looked her straight in the eye, “I think it was you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. I was watching and you started to tremble then it sort of spread outward from you.” He shook his head. “That was some hex you just pulled off.”

  “A hex?” Suddenly she remembered a vision she’d had days ago and how odd she’d felt afterwards. The hands grabbing at the children, Sister Bernita trying to save them…

  A glance around showed Sister was currently hurrying towards the schoolhouse where most of the children were. Esteban was standing, arms folded, by Sister Denise’s body and Mendoza... She gasped and buried her face in Stone’s chest. Somehow a piece of wood from the fence had stabbed the man through the chest pinning him to the ground. The drug lord was most definitely dead.

  “I didn’t do that, did I?”

  Stone rubbed his hand over her back. “I can’t say for sure. Maybe you did or maybe there really was an earthquake. All that I care about is that you’re okay and Mendoza is dead.”

  She nodded against his chest. Yeah, that’s all that really mattered. Swallowing down the sick feeling that had been rising in her throat, she looked up at Stone. “And what about you? Are you okay?”

  He gave a crooked smile. “Just another day’s work for a Guardian. I’m fine.”

&n
bsp; She reached up and cupped his face. Small scratches covered him, little rivers of dried blood mixed with dirt and sweat marred his cheeks. She stroked her thumb over the lines of strain that bracketed his mouth. Her man of stone might not admit it, but she could see the evidence of what he’d been through. “I’m glad.” She rose to her knees and kissed him. For a moment, he hesitated and then kissed her back, gently, tenderly, his fingers combing her hair back as he angled her head.

  A dry cough sounded near them. “I would tell you to take it inside but there are pressing matters to deal with.”

  Stone pulled back and looked up to see Esteban watching, a look of bored disapproval on his autocratic face. The supercilious cat was right, damn him.

  He kissed Christina one more time and then rose to his feet to walk towards where Dee’s body lay. Blood soaked her clothing and the ground around her. His little sister. At least he hadn’t been the one to kill her. If it had come to that, he would have done his duty but it was easier this way.

  “Did you know her?” Christina joined him, her hand resting on his arm.

  Memories of Dee as a little girl flitted through his mind, momentary regret for the loss of the person he’d used to know. But that had been long ago, in a different life. The woman she’d become had been a stranger to him, her sins outweighing childhood memories. “No,” he sighed heavily. “I didn’t know her.” Later, he’d tell Christina the whole story but not now.

  The drug lord lay nearby, a look of horror etched on his dead face. It served him right. Stone only hoped the bastard’s last minutes were as terrifying as those of his victims. He thought of the Duffys and was pleased their deaths had been avenged.

  His wolf rumbled its approval. It’s what he deserved. A shame, though, that he couldn’t have died at our hands. I would’ve enjoyed ripping him apart and scattering his remains for the scavengers to eat. Vengeance is always sweet.

  Stone had to agree with the beast.

  “Mendoza is dead. Good work, little witch.” Esteban nodded at Christina and she shrugged in response.

  “I’ve no idea how I did that,” she admitted.

  Estaban cocked one brow. “Then it is something you need to explore. You would seem to have a wealth of untapped potential.” He turned to Stone. “We should help Sister Bernita dispose of the bodies.”

  Stone agreed and the two men set to work. Soon other staff from the orphanage joined in while Christina and Sister gathered the children inside the dining hall.

  Eventually Christina and Sister Bernita reappeared. The sister insisted on conducting a short prayer service. “After all,” she said, “we don’t know but that at the moment of death they might have repented.”

  Stone had serious doubts about that but didn’t argue. He wanted to get things cleaned up as soon as possible and take Christina back home before another disaster befell them. Unfortunately, his wish wasn’t going to be granted. Before the burials were complete, a convoy of jeeps rattled down the road and pulled into the compound.

  A man stepped out. Tall, lean, dark-haired. His gaze swept over the group and then he approached Sister Bernita.

  “Sister.”

  “Señor Reyes, you are back.”

  “I am reclaiming my territory.”

  She inclined her head neither welcoming nor condemning his statement.

  “I see a number of vehicles outside. Has Mendoza taken to hiding among children?”

  “Not hiding, but he is here.” She gestured towards where his body lay, one of the few that weren’t yet buried.

  Reyes went to inspect the body before giving a nod of approval. “Who killed him?”

  “An unfortunate accident during the earthquake,” Sister explained.

  “Earthquake?” Reyes looked puzzled.

  “A small localized one it seems,” Esteban stepped forward. “What does your return mean?” There was no deference in his voice, no sign he feared the drug lord.

  Sister shot Esteban a warning look. “What he means is, can we expect you will leave us in peace like you did in the past?”

  “I have no quarrel with you or your children, Sister.” Reyes shifted his focus to the nun. “I will not interfere with your business if you do not interfere with mine.”

  “Agreed.” She gave a tight smile. “A deal with the devil is sometimes necessary.”

  Reyes laughed, apparently appreciating her show of spirit. He then turned his focus to Stone and Christina.

  “And you are?”

  “Tourists passing through.” Stone drew Christina protectively to his side.

  “With an assault rifle?” Reyes murmured pointedly looking at the weapon Stone sported.

  “Even tourists need to be cautious during these troubled times.” Stone looked the man in the eye.

  Reyes glanced at Mendoza’s body, the gaping wound in his chest and the row of fresh graves, before turning back to Stone again. “I believe you have done me a favour, whether you know it or not. I will give you one in return so there is no debt between us. A twenty-four hour window to leave the country?”

  “Understood.” Stone nodded.

  “I’ll be on my way. There are still pockets of Mendoza’s men to be routed out.” Reyes climbed back in his jeep. “Pray for my soul, Sister?”

  “Of course, señor.”

  “And you,” Reyes pinned a look on Stone and Christina. “I trust we won’t meet again.”

  Before they could reply he was gone.

  “Will you be all right?” Stone asked Sister Bernita.

  “Yes. This is nothing new. The drug lords come and go, they battle for the land and the people rebuild their lives over and over. One is usually no better or worse than the others.” Her voice sounded weary. “Reyes might leave the orphanages alone but he will persecute some other group. The devil by any other name is still the devil.”

  “I will watch over her.” Esteban shoved his hands in his pockets.

  Stone didn’t voice the scathing comment he wanted to make. From his perspective the feline only helped when his hand was forced but arguing the point wasn’t worth it. “We’d better get going then.” He took Christina’s hand but she pulled away. “What’s wrong?”

  “We need to get your backpack.”

  “My backpack? There’s nothing that important in—” He paused, a thought coming to mind. “Did you look inside it?”

  Christina grinned. “We can’t forget Clarice. I’ll be right back.” She ran to get his backpack.

  “Clarice?” Esteban arched a brow.

  Sister frowned. “There is no one here by that name.”

  “A private joke.” Stone folded his arms across his chest and glowered.

  When Christina returned, she was still smiling. “We’re all set now.” She stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “Thanks for taking care of her. It means a lot to me.”

  The look on her face had his bad mood melting away and he stroked his finger down her cheek and huskily replied. “She reminded me of you.”

  He hitched the backpack over his shoulders and took her hand once again. “If we use one of Mendoza’s jeeps, we can make it to the coast by nightfall. What do you think of a moonlit boat ride?”

  “If it eventually leads back to Chicago, I’m all for it.” She smiled up at him, anticipation lighting her eyes.

  “May God bless you and grant you a safe journey.” Sister bid them farewell as they climbed into a jeep. “And Mr. Stone, if you hear of a good family who could help our children...?” She left the question hanging.

  “I’ll keep you in mind.” With a wave, he steered the jeep out of the compound onto the path that would lead them home.

  Chapter 23

  Club Mystique had the usual crowd. The tall fellow always ordered a beer, his girlfriend was a daiquiri. Two Mystique specials for the blond couple at the end. Tina turned her attention away from the bar. She wasn’t serving tonight but old habits die hard. Gwyn had been uncharacteristically sympathetic when she’d returned and had giv
en her an extra week off to recuperate from her adventure. Tina wasn’t sure that she really needed a vacation but it meant she had more time to spend with Stone so she hadn’t complained.

  Right now, she and Stone were bringing Reno up to speed on what had happened in Cantala. Stone had declined to fill in an official report.

  His exact words had been ‘I don’t fucking work for them so there’s no way Lycan Link can make me complete their damned paperwork.’

  “Yeah, well I do work for them and they get pissy if the paperwork isn’t filed.” Reno had growled back before he finally managed this compromise. He’d write, all Stone had to do was talk.

  “With Deirdre dead, one link in the organ trafficking chain has been severed.” Reno scanned the notes before him. “And Saul is singing like a bird so that will hopefully eliminate a few more.”

  “And once he’s done ‘singing’ what will happen to him?” Tina asked.

  “He’ll likely go on trial,” Reno speculated. “And he’ll probably argue he was trying to save lives; that the wealthy and powerful have more to offer the world than a lowly peasant.”

  Stone growled. “The idea that some people count less than others makes my blood boil.”

  Tina nudged him with her elbow. “I agree but don’t go all rabid, wolf boy. If Gwyneth gets wind of it, she’ll toss you out on your ear.”

  “Wolf boy?” Reno choked on the beer he’d been drinking and it took a moment before he could speak again. “Anyway, as I was saying, Saul will likely put up some defence but I doubt a judge will buy it.”

  “The evilest of men might very well believe their actions were morally right.” She pointed out. “But at some point there has to be a boundary.” She frowned wondering where that idea had come from. It was true but not something she’d ever thought of before.

  Stone shot her a surprised look. “You took the words out of my mouth.”

  “He’ll probably get life in prison.” Reno took another swig of his drink. “And after the way you crushed his wrist, he’ll never be able to operate again.”