by Amelia Jade
“I’m going to get out of the vehicle now,” he said calmly. “I can’t just let them kill us. They have Maddy, and I need to help her. Whatever Flint may have said, she’s an innocent in all this, and he just sent her into a trap. That’s not right, and I think you two know it.”
Trusting his gut, he unlocked his door and slowly pulled the handle, keeping himself hyper-alert in case they decided to attack him anyway. But they didn’t, and he exited the car smoothly, his presence bringing the Extremis Agents to a halt. Oddly, he didn’t see the big brute among them. Could he have possibly killed him with those few blows back in the van? Connor didn’t think so, but perhaps that was why he wasn’t present.
“You can leave now,” he said aloud. “If you do, I won’t come after you. Not today at least.”
The pair in front of him exchanged looks, while he heard the pair behind him laugh out loud at his threat. They had him outnumbered; they knew it wasn’t a fair fight.
“You can’t be serious, silly man,” said the bigger of the two in front in a big, booming voice, thick with an accent. “We are four. You are one.”
Connor smiled. “So get a few more, and it’ll be a fair fight.”
The Agents looked at each other in confusion, thrown off by his casual arrogance.
“You talk like you’re going to win,” one of the men behind him said.
“That’s because I know something you don’t,” he replied.
“Oh?”
He smiled, baring his teeth at them in a wordless challenge. “I know you’re going to lose. People like you will always lose.”
One of them snorted loudly. “Why is that?”
“Because people like me will always be there to stand up to you. If you kill me, someone else will rise up to take my spot.” He growled angrily. “And you had better believe I’m taking at least two of you bastards with me.”
“You will still die,” one of them said with a laugh.
“Yeah, but I’m gonna start by taking you with me,” he replied, staring directly at the man who had spoken.
The Extremis Agent noticeably swallowed, glancing over at his partner.
Connor rolled his eyes. “Are we going to do this, or what?” he snapped, becoming impatient.
The other men tensed, spreading out into a shallow semicircle around his side of the vehicle.
Something clicked.
Connor looked around, trying to find the sound. His eyes settled finally on the rear door to the truck as it opened. Andre climbed out. He could see Milos doing the same thing on the far side.
“Made a decision, did you?” he asked them warily.
Andre nodded.
“And?” Connor prompted.
“This is my town,” Andre said, his voice angry. “I’m sick and tired of these assholes coming in here and ruining the place.” He turned on his heel and charged at the nearest Agent.
Connor snarled in agreement, moving at the same time. He heard Milos do the same.
The fight was on.
The Agent he faced went for his knife, but Connor was there too quickly. He slammed a palm into the man’s elbow as he reached for the sheath on his waist. The move jarred the Agent’s hand away from the pommel of the knife, and twisted him away from Connor.
The Sentinel training in him guided his blows. He used the force of his blow to spin him around, delivering a flat-bladed chop of his hand to the side of the Agent’s neck. Something collapsed, but the Agent only staggered, not going down. The move took Connor past him and into line with the next Agent, who did have his knife out.
Connor reached behind him, fingers wrapping around the knife of the Agent he had momentarily incapacitated. He yanked, pulling it free just in time to swing it into the path of the attacker’s jab. Metal clanged on metal and he deflected the blow.
Connor darted inside the man’s extended arm, delivering an elbow to the Agent’s nose. Bone cracked and blood immediately began to gush down his face. The man cried out in pain, but he didn’t drop the knife.
Behind him, he heard the first Agent curse, a sign that he was about ready to reenter the fray. Connor chopped down on the Agent’s knife hand, numbing the grip and sending the blade spinning to the ground. He kicked it away, and in the same motion opened a wound from the man’s stomach to sternum. The Agent screamed and fell to the ground.
A weight hit Connor mid-thigh as the first Agent tackled him, sending him to the ground, his own knife skittering across the pavement and under the truck. A fist smacked the back of his head, sending his face down into the pavement. He cried out as skin was ripped from his face and stars blossomed across his vision from the impact.
Another blow into his side broke a rib, sending waves of agony through his entire core. Connor managed to get his hands under him and rolled, but his attacker came with him, snaking his hands under Connor’s chin and locking in his grip. Eyes bulging from the lack of air, he watched with his back to the ground as the Agent with the broken nose stomped over to him, leaving a trail of falling blood across the parking lot that had become their battleground. The wound on his chest bled even more profusely, his shirt and pants soaked. Connor could see his skin already going white. The wound was quite likely a mortal one, as it would not heal. He had seen the green non-healing paste on the knife blade before cutting the man.
Something glittered in the lights at the corner of his rapidly dimming vision as the Agent raised a booted foot, intending to bring it down on his face.
A knife! The first one that had been thrown from the man’s hands. In their rolling fight, they had come right next to it. Connor stopped fighting the grip on his neck, reaching out to snag the knife. He flipped the blade up and drove it firmly through the sole of the Agents boot as he stomped on him.
The Agent howled, spinning around, blood droplets flying from his stomach as he fell to the ground. The move almost ripped the knife from Connor’s hands, but he held on by sheer force.
He was almost out of air now. He needed to do something. He couldn’t pry the man’s entire hand loose—his grip was too good. But he could get a finger. Feeling his throat begin to collapse under the hold, he moved rapidly. His free hand worked one of the man’s pinky fingers free.
Connor’s other hand swooped in, and in one strong strike, he severed the finger completely.
The Agent’s grip immediately loosened as he screamed in agony. A rush of breath shot into Connor’s system and he sat up, inhaling huge mouthfuls of air into his greedy lungs. The inhuman wailing of the man under him reminded him of his predicament.
Connor rolled off the man onto his knees, drew his arm back, and shoved the knife up under the Agent’s ribcage and into his heart. The metal snapped, leaving a useless handle in his fingers, and the blade impaled inside the Agent.
He glanced over at the other man, the one with the stab wound through the foot. The Agent’s convulsions lessened, and he was barely moving now. A large pool of dark liquid had begun to surround him.
Feeling stronger as he continued to breathe deeply, Connor stood up and approached. He only needed one look at the slack-jawed, dull-eyed expression to know the man was dead.
A cry sounded from the other side of the truck, reminding Connor that he wasn’t alone. Rushing around, he quickly took stock of the situation. With his aid, Andre and then Milos’s opponents were quickly dispatched. The other shifters hadn’t escaped harm either. Milos had a broken arm, and Andre was holding a knife wound on his upper leg closed. He was going to need some stitches.
“Take the truck, get back to the club,” he told them. “Tell Flint that I fought you two, but then the Agency got ahold of me. Pretend like I’m in their hands. Stall him for as long as you can!” he shouted as he headed straight for one of the Agency vehicles now idling.
“Where are you going?” Milos called.
“To save Maddy!”
Tires squealed under him as he took off.
***
Maddy hadn’t told him where she was g
oing, and neither had Flint. But Maddy had briefly taken out the card with information on it and brandished it about while they spent their last few minutes together. She had forgotten he had better eyesight than a normal human. He hadn’t been able to read much; only two words. Two words he hoped would help him find her.
Fishing Trawler.
It was a big harbor, and as he neared it, he knew it would be long odds. But there had to be someone who would know of any new ships arriving or departing that day in slightly different fashion. Something, anything to help him find the woman he cared for.
There was something about her. Something that spoke to him. She claimed she didn’t feel like she fit in anywhere, but Connor didn’t see it. He saw her strong will and personality, and the way she had seamlessly integrated herself into the Underground in less than forty-eight hours.
Maddy had a place, she just didn’t know it yet. Connor needed to save her so that she could see it for herself.
He darted through the sparse city traffic, making excellent time across the city at that time of evening. It was past rush hour and almost at the point where it turned from late afternoon to evening. He just hoped there was enough time.
Connor arrived at the market district and headed straight for the fish vendors.
“Hey!” he shouted at one man unloading a truck stacked high with crates of fish.
“What?” the man said gruffly.
“Have any new boats come in today?” he asked.
The man eyed him skeptically. “No,” he said at last. “Next one is not expected until tomorrow. Why?”
Connor swore. “I think some bad men have a friend of mine, and are using a fishing boat as cover to take her out of the city.”
Pausing in his efforts to unload the truck, the man looked at him. “If you want bad people, you need to go to the shipyards, not the wharves.”
“What do you mean?” Connor asked suspiciously.
“Coleforn Shipyard. That is all I will say,” the man said, looking around nervously as he got back to work unloading his truck.
Connor didn’t need him to say any more. He knew just where and what Coleforn Shipyard was. It was the Agency base where Ajax and his mate, Arianna, had been trapped and ambushed.
Of course that’s where Flint would send her. Maddy wouldn’t know any better. She would just walk right in.
He snarled. The place was a damned fortress, complete with firing positions sneakily disguised into the buildings on either side of the gate and the walkway that joined the two buildings. If he tried to storm in there, he’d be tranq’d in no time flat.
One of the first things Connor had done upon his arrival to King City had been to survey both of the buildings known to belong to the Agency. He knew exactly where the shipyard in question was. As he neared, he slowed the vehicle.
An idea hit him then.
He was in an Agency vehicle. This was an Agency stronghold. Maybe he could use it to bluff his way inside.
Someone jumped over the fence, landing in the easy kneeling position that told them they were either a shifter, or an Extremis Agent. In this end of town, he knew exactly what it was. Most of the streetlights were out, and his headlights didn’t illuminate enough to let him see. But he slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car, taking off at a run after his quarry.
They would know where Maddy was. They had to.
The Agent was fast, but Connor was faster. His foe was running in fear, long hair bouncing in the wind. He was running for passion. He leapt.
Long hair?!
He tackled the Agent to the ground. As they rolled, a strong elbow to his side caused him to exhale in pain. His foe was fast. She got under him and pushed, sending him flying.
She?
“What the fuck is going on here?” he said aloud at the other figure shrouded in darkness. “Who the hell are you?”
“Connor?!” the other person exclaimed.
“MADDY?!” he shouted in return, stunned. “But…but you’re a—” He couldn’t finish, his jaw hanging wide open. “How is that possible?”
Her brown eyes resolved into detail as she came closer, his eyes letting him see her at last, even in the dim light.
“Hi,” she said with a confidence that she hadn’t outwardly possessed just a few short hours earlier.
“How did you—?” he turned, pointing at where she had jumped over the fence. “And then?” He felt his ribcage where she had delivered a powerful blow. Thankfully it was on the opposite side of the rib that he had broken in the last fight.
Even as he spoke, Connor had a sinking sensation. There was only one way she could have pulled all of that off.
“Did you—”
He was cut off by a loud clang as the gate behind them began to open. Men poured out, putting themselves between the pair and his stolen vehicle.
“Not good,” he muttered. There had to be close to a dozen men. Connor was tired of the bloodshed. He didn’t wish to kill any more. Enough people had already died that night.
But they were threatening Maddy.
Inside, his bear roared to life.
“Stay here,” he said, turning and running directly at the men.
Maddy yelled something after him, but he didn’t hear her. He was focused on the Agents in front of him.
They shouted, reaching for their knives. He thought it odd that none of them had tranq guns, until he realized they had only been expecting Maddy, in her un-enhanced form. They wouldn’t have needed tranq guns for that.
He smiled. This should be easy.
Another group of men emerged from inside.
Connor’s smile wavered, then faltered completely as they kept coming. Over two dozen armed enemy Agents were now arrayed against him. Connor was a shifter, and highly trained. But that was a lot of people, especially when they had knives that could stop him from healing.
He didn’t have a choice though; they were between him and the vehicle he needed to see Maddy to safety.
“Don’t make me kill you!” he shouted, pleading with them as he came to a stop.
The only reply was silence.
Connor bowed his head, hoping that one day he could forgive himself for what he was about to do. Setting his shoulders, he called forth to his bear, and for the first time in a long time, he unleashed the mighty power of his animal in combat against human foes.
A massive brown and blond fur-covered beast ripped from his skin, appearing in the blink of an eye as he slammed into the closest concentration. Massive paws the size of a human head flicked out, crushing bones and ripping flesh with terrible ease. Men screamed and wailed, trying to flee in terror, but he was too much for them.
Others came at him, knives waving and slashing at him. He took several superficial cuts, but even coated with the special paste, they would barely hinder him. Connor was just too fast. He roared, stunning those closest to him momentarily with the sound. It bought him a brief second, but that was all he needed as his jaws closed around a neck, his right paw reaching out, the finger-sized claws on it ripping a leg open to the bone with contemptuous power.
Something sliced deep along his flank.
Connor howled with pain, lashing out with a paw and connecting with something solid. He backed away. There were too many of them. More men moved in, trying to encircle him, to attack him where he couldn’t see. He continued to fight, but he was more cautious now, biding his time as he tried to reduce their numbers faster.
He roared in pain as another knife bit into his hind paw. The giant bear turned, jaws closing sharply on the man’s shoulder. Connor tugged and sent the man flying into a crowd of other Agents. He roared again as his other leg exploded in pain.
Too many!
Then suddenly their focus shifted. A man went flying, his arm bent at an unnatural angle. Another one went down, his face a ruined mess from the fist that connected with it.
Maddy was there, and she threw herself into the fray, trying to distract them long enough for Connor t
o go back on the attack. She was wild and inefficient, her blows savagely strong and improperly placed, but she fought with heart and passion, with a ferocity the Agents couldn’t match.
Connor had his window, and he used it ruthlessly, surging forward to overwhelm the Agents. They suddenly found themselves fleeing for their lives, throwing down their weapons as they went.
“Drive!” he told her, shifting back as the last of the Agents nearby fled back into the shipyard.
“What?”
He stumbled, blood flowing freely from far too many wounds.
“You drive,” he told her, pulling open the door to the passenger side. It was a challenge just to pull himself up and into the cab. None of his wounds were as bad as the gut one he had received the other day, but together they added up. He needed to get them cleaned up as best he could, and at least heal the skin.
The worst of the bunch was on his right thigh.
“Where am I going?” she asked, gunning the engine and putting some distance between them and the shipyard before asking.
“The club,” he told her weakly. “Flint tried to get Andre and Milos to betray me. I sent them back with a lie, to tell Flint that I had beat them up and left them behind while I went on my way to fight the Agency.
Maddy looked in the backseat. “Did you manage to capture one?” she asked.
Despite his pain and weakness, Connor managed to laugh. “You know, once I realized that Flint had put you in danger, I suddenly had other priorities.”
She laughed, the sound warming him to the core, even as a chill from loss of blood settled over him.
They drove on in silence, neither of them needing to speak. Maddy drove with a purpose, maneuvering them through the city as fast as she could, while Connor cleaned his wounds, scraping off any green gunk he could find and then pressing the skin together, forcing it to heal itself.
The circumstances could have been better, but all things aside, Connor found himself enjoying their car ride immensely.
