by Tiya Rayne
“We won’t have a problem getting Hawk into the city, but all of our homes are being watched. We have to be able to sneak him in and stay the fuck out of sight until we have a plan,” Priest points out.
He’s right. They will be expecting us to bring Hawk back to one of our places. We need neutral ground.
“We know a place,” Many says in his deep voice.
Chapter 49
D.O.E
Seth
* * *
Four hours later, I’m sitting on a round purple pillow in a room who can’t make up its mind what color it wants to be. Many is sitting on the one and only bright green couch beside Brooklyn. Zel is on a blue pillow similar to mine and Hawk sits at Brooklyn’s feet on a gold square pillow with tassels. Priest is in a funky fuchsia S shaped chair that sits so low to the ground, he might as well be on the floor.
Four large German Shepherds sit at the entrances of the room like quiet sentinels. One black, green eyed cat watches me from his perch on top of the coffee table, and two pigeons flap inside of a cage.
“Does anyone else feel like they took some fucking acid before coming in here?” Priest says, looking around the room.
“Here you go guys. I brought you some eucalyptus tea,” Ari says, placing a tray down on her coffee table.
Many quickly snags one of the small teacups and starts to drink. Brooklyn picks one up and takes a sip before quickly spitting it back into the cup. Ari takes a seat between Brooklyn and Many.
“Oh, you know what this reminds me of? Season two of Stranger Things. When they bring Max in with the kids and Steve has to help them fight off the demodog.”
“Twin, you need to tell us this plan real soon,” Priest says, rubbing at the space between his brows.
“Wait,” Zel stops us. “Doesn’t Lucien have a prerecorded video with the plan he’s going to skype in?”
“Brother Twin records his plans whenever he will not be around,” Many says, explaining how things usually go to Ari.
“That’s so cool. Does Seth play them?”
“Not always. Sometimes, Brother Twin records them and then sets timers for them to be sent to us.”
“But how does he know when to send them—”
“Will you two shut the fuck up,” Priest shouts, causing Many and Ari to drop their heads. Priest tugs at his tie regaining his composure.
“There will be no recorded messages this time, Zel. Lucien is joining us,” Priest states proudly.
As always, my brother is here being the brains behind the plan. I’m here to get shit done and bring Lia back to us. While my brother is keeping a cool head, I’m trying not to fuck shit up.
“Good to have you both here,” Hawk says, patting my leg.
“It feels good to be here,” Lucien says in the back of my mind.
“We do this shit together,” I tell him. “Here we go,” I say out loud. “Shep said he would send the address to me an hour before the drop, but that won’t work.”
“Gives him too much control,” Zel says. “Not to mention, we won’t be able to get Hawk the blueprints in time.”
“Exactly,” I say. “Which is why Lucien tore that Facetime video apart piece by piece.”
The entire trip to Kansas and back, he’d been buried in that video. He studied everything he could, even the pleading look on Lia’s face when she appeared on her screen. All those lessons and games Luc played with Rose trained him perfectly for this. It amazes me she has been dead over six months and still she’s saving our asses.
“Seven minutes into the video a boat horn blows. Lucien had to fade all the other sound out, but if you listen carefully the dinging of a drawbridge follows and then another boat horn. Still, he would have had to search every drawbridge in the state and find the exact time a boat went under it.
“So, he slowly brought back in sounds one at a time, layering them to hear them clearly and the sound of a train came in close to the horns. That lead him to track down all the drawbridges in the state where trains cross paths. After narrowing it down to a few, he matched train and boat times to the one in the video. It took a while, but he found it.”
“So where is it?” Hawk asks.
“After studying the surrounding areas, he was able to pin it down to an old, abandoned apartment building. He sent you all the layouts in your emails. Hawk, I have your braille printout in my bag. I’ll get it for you in a sec.”
He nods.
“Don’t worry about the guns,” Priest adds. “I can supply enough to cover this little adventure. You got a time frame on this?”
“He gave us seventy-two hours. We move in eight. We need the element of surprise.”
“Hold up,” Brooklyn says, putting her hand up. “You mean to tell me, you never planned on handing Hawk over?”
“Why the fuck would I do that? He’s my brother.” I look to her, disgusted she even thought that.
“Then why the hell are we here?”
“You weren’t invited,” Priest points out. I cut in before Brooklyn can retort.
“He’s here because I can’t do this without him. We need them all to get her back.” It’s the truth. I only wish Beast could’ve been here to join us.
Hawk nods and so do the others. “Besides, we always need to plan for the worst, and I’ll need to be here,” Hawk says.
“Let’s pray that doesn’t happen.”
I would never risk giving up Hawk for Lia. I’d die for both of them before I ever sacrificed either of them.
“What about his manpower?” Zel cuts in. “You said he told you he has back up.”
“Oh, I have that covered,” Ari says waving us off. “I invited my sisters.”
The entire room is silent for a moment, even Many seems to be confused.
“Your sisters?” Brooklyn asks, looking to me for confirmation. I shrug, Ari is Lucien’s friend, but he never mentioned anything to me about her having sisters.
“I’ve never heard Ari talk about anything but her animals,” Lucien says.
“Yes,” Ari answers before taking another sip of her tea.
“Will we be able to actually see these sisters or do they only exist on that fucked up plain you seem to reside on?” Priest says.
“Oh, trust me, we exist.”
We all turn to the doorway where three women are standing. The one in front has dark brown skin, the color of coffee with no cream and haunting gray eyes. Her features are graceful and feline like, but her posture is strong.
The woman to her left is tall, maybe six foot even, with red undertones in her pecan brown skin. Her long jet-black hair hangs to her slim waist. The woman on her right is lighter than both the others.
Hell, she’s lighter than me. Her skin is milky white and her blondish red hair is in a thick afro. Her eyes are a dark brown. Albinism is what they call it.
“Who the hell are you?” Priest asks.
“We are Daughters of Egypt,” the one in the front answers as if that’s supposed to simplify things.
“And that means what?” I ask.
The one in front, who I think must be the leader, huffs and rolls her eyes. “We are a secret organization of trained assassins who predate you Neanderthals by an entire two hundred years.” She turns to Priest with a smug smile. “Surely you didn’t think the Church was the founding fathers of assassin organizations, did you?” The women with her laugh.
“We thought the Church was the only one,” Many says, turning to Priest.
“Please, y’all ain’t never had an original thought in your entire bipedal lives. The idea was stolen from our lands, among other things.” She looks pointedly at the men in the room.
Priest stands, dusts off his pants and fixes his tie. “We appreciate this little girl power thing, but we don’t need your help.”
“Good, because we’re not here to help you. We’re here for our sister and the recently appointed Goddess Mother.”
I’m more confused than I’ve ever been. Who the hell are these people and what Goddess Mot
her?
“They’re confused,” Ari says. “Don’t worry, it happens to me a lot. Kyra, can you break it down a little slower.”
The gray eyed beauty gives another eye roll. She walks over and squeezes down between Ari and Many, forcing my brother to stand. “We are Daughters of Egypt. An all-female assassin group—”
“We got that part,” I say, cutting off her words with her condescending tone.
She rolls her eyes at my intrusion but continues on. “Our membership is passed down through generation from mothers to daughters. Sylvia Brooks, like her mother and her mother’s mother is part of our group.”
“Wait, Lia’s grandmother is an assassin?”
“Good job, Lucien.” Ari claps proudly like I’m a toddler who just learned to walk. I don’t even worry about correcting her, she’s only going to call me Lucien again anyway. She refuses to acknowledge I exist.
“Not just an assassin, she was recently appointed to the highest position held in our organization,” Kyra reiterates. “And one of your dumbass Disciples tried to kill her.”
“Is Grams okay?” I ask the question the same time Lucien does in my head.
“Yes,” Kyra says, holding her hand up. “She’s recovering. And you better be glad too. The DOE are not the type of enemies the Church wants.”
I sigh in relief, not because of her threat to the Church, but because Grams survived. That woman means the world to Malia and I don’t think she would ever be the same if she lost her Grandmother in that way.
“If she was once an assassin, how was she able to have grand kids?” Zel asks.
Kyra glares at him and cross her arms over her chest. “Unlike your fucked-up brotherhood, our sisters have a right to retire and start families if they like.”
Damn, they are definitely better than us in that sense.
“So, if this grandma is a member of your group,” Hawk starts. “Was Lucien’s girlfriend a member?”
“No,” I answer for them.
I would have known. There is something in us, something we can’t hide when you’ve seen the type of things we have. I picked it up a little from Grams, but I wasn’t too sure.
I picked it up from Emory too. I think that’s why we connected so fast. I assumed she experienced some bad things in foster care.
“He’s right,” Kyra says. “Malia isn’t a member. Her mother was, until she met Malia’s father, who happened to be a member of the Church.”
“Hold up. What?” I say.
“Yeah, Malia isn’t the first victim of the Church.”
“Victim?” Priest questions this time.
Kyra shakes her head. “Did Malia tell you the circumstances surrounding her mother’s death?” She directs her question toward me.
“She was in a car accident.”
“You don’t lose your head in a car accident,” Ari sings.
“Or have a bullet wound,” Kyra adds. “They kept that off of the official police report. Marissa knew the Church was coming for them, which is why she left her newborn baby with her mother. They mutilated her body before putting a bullet in Sleeper.”
“Her father was Sleeper?” Priest asks, sounding like his interest is piqued.
“Yes. You knew him?”
Priest nods his head. “He was a Deacon when I was brought in.”
“Sylvia never wanted Malia to go through the things she and her daughter endured. She wanted her to live a normal life, so she semi-retired. Taking odd and end jobs whenever she could.
“When she got appointed to Goddess Mother earlier this year, she knew she had about a year to square up her business here before she disappears into the organization. I think she realized then she was about to leave Malia and Emory unprotected. So she came to us, asking us to keep an eye on them in case anything happened to her.”
“Why would Sylvia let Lia take Emory in if she knew she was a member of the Church?”
She had to know the Church would come looking for her. They never let an agent go, doesn’t matter how young.
Kyra’s features soften. “Because she was a kid who needed a home.”
I think we all understand that. Most of us were kids needing a home once. Even Hawk who was recruited from his mother’s home, needed a place to feel like he belonged.
We thought it was the Church, but it wasn’t. It was the brotherhood, our brotherhood. Me, Zel, Hawk, Many, Beast, and Priest. That’s the family we needed, and now our family is expanding as I look over to Brooklyn and Ari. All we need is Lia and Emory.
“Hold the fuck up,” Priest says, pinching the bridge of his nose. We all look over to him. “I’m still trying to comprehend the fact you’re telling me she’s an assassin too.” He points to Ari, clearing up something I think we all kind of want to know.
Kyra looks to Ari with a smile. “She’s one of our best.”
“And now with my sister’s help, we’re going to get Lucien his girl back.”
“And our daughter,” I add.
Chapter 50
Fuck Your Name
Malia
* * *
They left us alone. My arms are tied behind my back and Emory is still hog tied beside me.
They say my daughter is a trained assassin. They told me she is dangerous like a wild animal and I should fear her. The one called Shep said Lucien is the same way.
He’s told me the things Lucien has done as his Seth persona. Everything he told me was supposed to turn me away from both of them, but it doesn’t. I don’t care what they are trained to do.
I know when my daughter hugs me, I feel her love for me. When she looks at me and smiles with her one little dimple, I know she is where she is supposed to be.
It doesn’t matter to me who she is to these people or what she is capable of. To me, she is my daughter and I love every part of her with everything I have and that will never change. As I sit on this cold floor realizing this about Emory, it finally clicks for me in regard to Lucien.
Seth’s words that day in the car run through my mind.
‘Love and finding your forever is about realizing and accepting the other person’s shit. One simple question, can you live with their flaws, that’s it? That’s the secret to forever. It’s not about finding the perfect love. It’s about finding an imperfect person and making love perfect.’
Lucien is imperfect, but I don’t care who he thinks he is, to me he is my future. I know I’m supposed to be with him. I don’t care about his personalities, just like I don’t care about Emory’s past. He is my perfect imperfection.
Maybe that makes me crazy. All I know is when he is Lucien, he is loving, gentle, kind, and respectful. When he is Seth, he is reckless, protective, and honest. And I can honestly and proudly admit I love them both.
Emory stirs. She’s been in and out since they brought her in here and gave her a shot. I scoot on my butt over to her.
“Em, baby, you okay?”
“Mama,” she whispers in a low voice and I want to cry from hearing her say it again.
“I’m right here. Are you hurt?” She tries to roll over to find me. She gets to her opposite side and when her gaze finds my face, tears well up in her eyes.
“Sshh.” I try to soothe her and hate that I can’t touch her.
“Your face.”
“I’m all right.” I imagine if my face looks like it feels, it probably looks pretty bad. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
She shakes her head no. “I’m sorry about Grams.”
I have to catch my breath as I fight down the tears over my slain grandma. She wouldn’t want my tears.
“It’s not your fault.”
“They’re here for me,” she says sadly. “They wouldn’t have hurt her if I never left.”
“If you wouldn’t have left, I never would have gotten the chance to be your mother.”
This gets a smile from her. Right then, the door to the small apartment we’re being held in opens. We’re on the top floor of the eight-story abandoned building.
It’s freezing in here because the one window in what I imagine used to be the living room is broken.
The man named Shep walks in with two large guards behind him. One of them is the one he called Wolf. He’s the one who shot my grandma. I hate him the most.
“Hello, girls,” Shep says. “My sources say Twins and Priest both boarded a plane a few hours ago heading to Miami, most likely going to get Hawk.
“In two more days, you can take the demon here and your whack job boyfriend and disappear. Well, that is until the Church puts out a notice for him and in that case, you might see me again.” He laughs and the two men with him join in.
“Can you at least untie her arms, she’s cold?”
“Are you fucking kidding? That kid took down twelve Deacons at the facility with nothing but her bare hands in order to escape. Her little ass is going to have to be cold.”
A bird flutters into the room, flapping its wings. It’s not strange to see a bird. I’ve seen a few pigeons fly through since we’ve been here. However, this one starts dive bombing at our heads.
The three men at the door use their hands to fight off the pigeon while Emory and I have nothing to defend ourselves with. I cry out when the bird seems to pull out a strand of my hair before flying back out the window.
What the hell was that?
“Fucking birds,” Shep snarls, wiping blood from a claw mark under his eye. He then turns back to us. “As I was saying, you guys will be out of my hair in a few days and I’ll be a very rich man.”
I’m starting to think this guy likes hearing himself talk. He hasn’t stopped since he brought us here. Suddenly, the bird comes back, this time with a friend.
They perch on the window sill. Shep continues to talk, but I drown him out because something catches my eye. These aren’t regular pigeons. If I’m not mistaken, one pigeon has an H painted on his chest and the other has a P.
A sharp whistle pierces the air and both pigeons shoot up from their spots and dive bomb the three men. The guys fight and swing their arms right as craziness ensues downstairs. Barking and gunshots are all I hear.
