All the King's Men (The Turning Series Book 1)

by Krys Janae

  Her entire body was alight with the Gale when she finally looked up at her victim, her dark eyes glowing with intense light. She inhaled deep and let out a piercing scream at the top of her lungs as it roared through her. The extension of white wings made of light protruded from the otherworldly being that stood above her shoulders. An intense heat filled her entire body and the power coursed through her. The cry was so loud and shrill that it shattered the window that Franco had been forced into, and a million fragments of shimmering glass crystals exploded outward, flying in every direction. The blast sent him backward into the lounge of the abandoned building, until his back hit the bar countertop about midway through. The impact struck him in the middle of his spine, folding him against the natural motion of his body and he crumpled into a broken heap onto the floor.

  Danika dipped down to her knee as her ears adjusted from the ringing. She wanted to collapse after allowing the Gale to enter its full form, but once she could stand, she stepped into the room. Her knees buckled with each step. She struggled to catch her breath, and her vision was clouded by dirt, dust and debris as she limped toward the pile of bones and blood that remained of the Rook.

  Appearing paralyzed from the waist down, Franco used what strength remained in his arms to shove himself over onto his back to face Danika. The sight of his face was gruesome. Somehow, Franco was unfazed that one of his eyes had burst during the devastation of the Gale, and the raw flesh of his socket was already starting to repair itself from the damage. The remaining eye was tinted a red hue, noticeably duller than the brilliant red before. His fang-like teeth were covered in blood that had come up from his throat, yet he smiled.

  “Something funny?” Danika growled as she leaned against the counter, her other hand placed over the torn flesh on her leg.

  His smile never left his busted face. “Guess I didn’t think you had it in you, sweetheart.”

  “And I doubt you’ll ever walk again.” She quipped, but the confidence in that statement was fleeting as she knew that his ability to mend could possibly extend to his nerves, which meant it was just a matter of time before he could get up again.

  “Don’t need to. I served my purpose.” Again, he laughed, leading into a fit of coughs thick with a blend of blood and phlegm. “You know this isn’t over, right?”

  “Danika, walk away. Red is en route with evac. Do you read me? Over.” Frost said into her ear. “Danika, do you copy?”

  She heard the command request and Franco’s comment loud and clear, but she chose not to answer either of them, opting for silence. She would wait quietly, bring her body down, to recharge.

  “Oh what, that’s it? You just going to leave me for the cleanup crew?” Franco smiled, the blood still dripping from his teeth spilled out over his lips. “I mean, you could just kill me. Oh, but wait, you haven’t killed anyone…not even at Monroe, right?”

  She wanted to keep it together, show him that his words weren’t bothering her, but she didn’t appreciate being read, especially not now, by one of her potential victims…a ruthless killer who had harmed not only her friend but her family as well. Franco was no Dmitri, even with his instinct and accurate shooting; Franco was not a telepath. “Do me a favor and shut the fuck up.”

  “But where’s the fun in that, eh? You know I read your file, too. W-what good would I be… n-not knowing my o-own target?” Franco’s chilling words were beginning to falter but remained laced with arrogance. Was there a limit to his regeneration abilities? “Major Carlisle’s special little strike team, the worst-kept-secret in Augusta.”

  Christ…

  While terms were laid out for military and police forces in black and white, parameters for the Alliance were somewhere in the gray. The registry had basic information on anyone who was Powered from the area, but how did he know about Monroe? It was not public knowledge. A small voice in her head told her to turn around and walk away. It would probably be best too, to breathe the air that wasn’t clouded with fine dust of glass shards and splinters. As much as Danika wanted to see the rest of his disfigured face smeared at the bottom of her boots, she restrained herself. “Just sit tight, Frankie.”

  “Carter, though? Oh-ho no…h-he didn’t suffer. G-good kid, too. Shame.”

  Danika was a couple of steps away when she stopped. She hung her head low and sighed. The mention of Carter was a guaranteed method to being added to her shit-list, and since Franco did already try to kill her once, he rapidly bounded to the top. Why won’t they just let the dead fucking rest? She clicked her tongue and yanked the comm unit out of her ear, flinging it back to hang over shoulder. Her jaw tensed and her neck popped when she turned around.

  No one would stop her…Even at Erik’s top speed, he wasn’t going to make it here on time to prevent the inevitable.

  The power flowed through her arm and rested in her palm. The white glow came in small bursts, struggling to hold up in her weakened state. Danika noticed her veins turning black from her fingertips all the way up her forearm, so instead she pulled the gun she recognized as her own from the wreckage nearby. She checked it, made sure it was still loaded, safety off, and turned to aim at him. “What do you know about Carter?”

  Franco laughed, a morbid titter, the weapon was aimed for his forehead. It was as if he’d been waiting for her to ask for that all this time. “Military bred, military bled. Trained not to leave ours behind, but guess what your hubby decided to do when I was left under fire?”

  Danika’s eyes widened. Carter rarely talked about his days in service. She shook her head. “He wouldn’t—”

  “He did. Like it or not, he did. Your precious husband had blood on his hands. Plenty of it. Including mine.” His voice seemed a lot more confident now and less strained, which meant he was healing up quicker than she thought. “Our whole squad, you know, they all thought I died… but they were so fucking wrong. Shame about Monroe though. I hear fire is a terrible way to go.”

  Danika growled, and she wanted to scream, let every last ounce of the Gale into the open, but she’d already used most of it up. Her bones ached. Her nose bled. In a fit of rage, she lay her arm flat on the bar counter and threw everything left standing onto the floor. “You…You sabotaged us?”

  “I wouldn’t say sabotaged. It was a well-thought out plan, if you ask me. Place goes up in flames, Golden Boy takes the fall, and everyone’s left none the wiser. No one would suspect a ghost.” He grinned proudly.

  “Fucking asshole! You killed him?! You—” She bit down on her lip so hard that it nearly pierced through. “Is that why you signed onto King’s payroll? Huh? To come pick a fight with me, someone you hardly even know?”

  Franco wheezed out another chuckle, his lungs still in repair from being crushed under the pressure. “Oh no, I’ve always been on payroll, baby. Perks of being considered a prince.”

  “What…” More dread and confusion struck her with the impact of being hit by a bus. So much information was being hurled at her, even more than before, more than she could handle.

  A prince?

  “The fuck are you talking about?” Her finger was dangling dangerously on the trigger and he tried to move his head out of the way of her aim.

  “You start to wonder why your boyfriend and I got the same stuff, right?” He coughed, hacking up more and more blood clots with each pass. “Senses… Sight. Hearing. Healing. Come on Danika, I know you’re a smart girl.”

  Nauseating. All of this. Everything.

  A flash of Charlie’s face came to mind, the kind one she met, then she watched as it became the face of the traitor from recent time. She slowly shook her head; Danika knew and understood what he was saying all along, but her brain was in denial. “No… no…”

  “All of your little friends asking why I didn’t tag him instead? Why I didn’t shoot my own brother in the chest. And why would I do that, when I could get the lovely Mrs. Carter, just handed to me by my long-lost little bro.”

  Half-brothers…

  “No!
Stop giving me your goddamn lies!”

  Franco’s red eyes were settled on her. “Someone had to pay for what Carter’s did to me…”

  “He did! You said it yourself, you tagged us at Monroe and now he’s dead, you fucking asshole. What more do you want?”

  “I want you to suffer. An eye for an eye.”

  Danika’s lip twitched. Even with her imbalanced temperament, and urge to smash things or pound on someone’s face—she knew that saying quite well and didn’t agree with it since it implied that revenge would just stack until there was no one left…and the whole world would be blind, or whatever. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just kill your cliché-loving ass right now?”

  “Come on, bella. Face it. You’re gonna walk away from here and let me live. You’re not gonna wanna face Charlie and tell him you killed his big bro, are you?” His breathing was heavier and ragged, trying to cope with the pain of the Gale claiming his eye and breaking his bones, but he was still gunning for a fight as he healed before her eyes. “All that was just foreplay.”

  This was it. It was her judgment call. After hunting down the King, they found his Rook, his castle guard. If she gave him mercy, he would just be fetched and healed to use against them all over again. Worse, he would continue in King’s crusade to cleanse the world from the Powered kind, from his own kind.

  “I hope it was good for you, killer.”

  Franco laughed, a slow build up from a small grin and chuckle to a cackle that was unnerving and ominous at the same time. The blood dripped from his mouth like a slow-running faucet, clots coughed up in chunks with each breath like crushed gelatin on his chest.

  Danika disengaged the hammer to the pistol and twisted to reveal her other arm, radiant with what energy that she had left to summon the Gale. She pointed at him, forefinger out and thumb up to shape her hand like a gun. “Bang.” The Gale took hold of his neck once more with tight accuracy as jerked it to the side. The sound of the crack was a sickening pop and crackle that would haunt her for a while, for a lifetime perhaps, but that didn’t matter. Not now. All that mattered to her was that he was dead and that hunger for vengeance had been satisfied. If he managed to mend, force himself back together from the inside out, she would kill him, again and again if necessary.

  Franco’s good eye was still open, his mouth agape. Even with his ability, his body couldn’t repair the extensive damage that had been done today. There he lay, limp and lifeless. Danika wanted to be proud of this, for completing the mission, for taking down an enemy; but she felt emptier than before. She could hardly look at him. Her body was weak, strength and essence depleted.

  The hatred that had festered within her for weeks, was satisfied by one second. One choice.

  She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Until now, she had the reputation of using non-lethal force to take down her opponents, but she’d been pushed too far. This was too close to the chest as she learned that Franco was closer to her than she even knew, thanks to her late husband and now Charlie. This meant she now had another kill on her hands; one death, one pitiful Powered life, because she’d been dragged to the edge and kicked overboard.

  It was done for now, the final boss had been won, a small battle in the war to come. Danika sighed. She closed her eyes, letting her neck fall backward. She wanted to topple over right there, but she stirred up a breeze and waited for the crisp air to sooth her, kiss and sting the cuts and bruises on her body, there was nothing.

  No breeze, no gust, just dead air. The Gale had been spent.

  “…Da…are y…there?” Frost finally came through from the earpiece that was on her shoulder, but there was still some static. She pushed it back into her ear, trying to make out the words through her haze.

  “Danika! Morgan! Morgan? Why isn’t he answering?” Olivia called over the comm, clearer now. She must have been getting closer to them, by the sound of her running on the other end.

  “I need…I need evac. Olivia. Red…I need…” She couldn’t concentrate, nearly blinded by her tears. Danika dragged her feet as she returned to the open arena. She wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline of the kill wearing off causing the nausea, or the actual kill itself; they seemed interchangeable at this point.

  The sound of the copter whirring above seemed so far away, even though it hovered right overhead. Everything around her started to fade into a blur, the mumbled murmur over the communication device lulled her into a trance. Falling to her knees between Koa and Morgan, Danika reached out to each of them to seek out signs of life, only to smear her hands in their blood.

  Catch and Release

  She slept most of the way back to HQ. Erik left her alone at her request, to regain her faculties and find her legs again. After a few minutes, Danika disembarked. She’d found the blue door with the black frame that had been placed against the wall of the roof entrance to the high-rise, and once inside, she flew across the halls and into the Ward. It was all a blur of machines and loud metal equipment clanging as Aldo and Red began their work in tandem, to tend to the wounded men.

  Her heartrate picked up, a spike of fear running through her as she watched from a distance. Danika had seen terrifying instances and faced difficult situations in her day, but this one had her petrified.

  “Dani, you holdin’ up alright?” Doc looked over his shoulder briefly to address her.

  Once she could find that she could move again, Danika nodded. She looked down at her right leg, which was covered in old, dried blood. The wound still stung but did not take priority over the damage done to Koa and Morgan. “I’ll be fine.”

  Red appeared to her in a blink, and quickly applied a wrap to her thigh. “Just in case your healing doesn’t catch up before we get to you.”

  “Thanks.” Danika humbly bowed her head at him, grateful for his assistance, but her sole focus was that they use their time and resources on the other two.

  “I don’t think it’s a good time to hang around here right now, Danika.” Aldo said, not looking up from his patient.

  Erik gave her an uneasy look, as if he were silently agreeing with Doc.

  Danika didn’t want to leave, but at the same time, she couldn’t bear to watch. She wondered if this must be what Morgan felt when she’d been shot, the stress of feeling useless. “Just…take care of him, will you? Please.”

  “We’ll let you know once they’re stable.” Red replied, giving her one pat on the shoulder before zipping across the room to grab more gauze and meds.

  After one last glance at her uncle, Danika exited the Ward and found her way to central command. The part of the team left standing were congregated there.

  “Liv?” She called out, searching for the red-head through her blurred sight.

  “Dani.” Olivia breathed out. “Thank God.”

  They embraced, and Danika felt a great relief as she held her. She was finally back on familiar turf and she was safely reunited with her friend.

  “Are they—?” Olivia peeked behind her, trying to catch a glimpse of their comrades.

  “Alive,” Danika offered a grievous nod. “Erik rushed them to Doc. They’re in the Ward now, but I don’t have any details. I didn’t want to be in the way, so I just checked in on them. I didn’t want to be in the way and Erik’s assisting since Koa’s down for the count.”

  “Shit.” Olivia whispered as she chewed at her thumbnail. She was scared, Danika could tell that much, but she was trying to maintain the strength for the team. Morgan’s shoes were ones no one would ever quite fill, but if they were going to keep this train moving, Olivia had to take control.

  Danika hugged Frost as he stood up, and she let her embrace linger a little longer than normal. He didn’t have much to stay other than a sigh of relief to see her.

  “What about Sloane? Or Charlie? Where is he?” Danika narrowed her eyes. Asking for the traitor had brought the room to complete silence. She wanted to avoid the subject of the man who turned on Koa and Morgan altogether, but it if he was here, she wanted to know.<
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  “Sloane’s gonna be fine, but…” His blue eyes looked saddened at the mere mention of Charlie. Frost surprised even himself with his silence because he generally had a comment for everything. Instead, he turned to Olivia.

  Exasperated, Olivia put her hands on her hips. “The brig. We got him in holding.”

  “Jesus—you’re kidding me, right? You brought him here?” Danika’s eyes were wide, her resentment sudden but well-placed at the news.

  “Where else were we going to take him? This place is locked down.” Olivia was playing defense.

  “Olivia, come on! We have safe-houses around town so secure that Fort Knox wants to ask for renovation advice. Places strong as shit and more than enough to hold him—but you keep him here? This much closer to Morgan and—” The white light wanted out so badly. Danika was furious.

  “Yes!” Olivia silenced her abruptly. “I made the call, Dani, I told them to return him here for further questioning. If he’s working with King’s court, we should know… Don’t you think it suspicious that he fought us after his capture? Come on, Danika, wake up! Morgan’s down! Koa too, and Sloane isn’t here to help. We’re all that’s left to deal with this, and if he has answers, we’re going to get them.”

  Fuck. Danika knew Olivia had a point.

  Charlie had been detained after going up to bat for the other team. Danika couldn’t shake the thought of that mask over his eyes and the blood in his teeth as he greeted her, playful nonchalance that irked her to no end. He had to be aware of what he was doing; he knew he was betraying her, putting lives in danger, and if she and Sloane hadn’t stopped him, he could have killed the three of them.

  Everything about it felt terribly wrong.

  “Dani…” Olivia sighed as she put her hands on her hips. “We need you to go in there and speak with him and—”

  “Are you out of your goddamn mind, lady?” Danika tore away from the face-to-face exchange and threw her hands up, before crossing her arms over her chest. It was plain and simple: Olivia wanted to throw her to the wolf, that devil in sheep’s clothing. “Hell—if, and it’s a ginormous if—I decide to agree to this little ridiculous plan, do I have consent to kill? Because I’m going to kill him.”