by Lola StVil
“Don’t drink it. It’s cold and it’s awful,” he says, still wincing.
I pull my hand away, laughing at the disgusted look on his face. Rye stands up and takes my hand. He leads me up the stairs. When we reach the top, I pull my hand free. Rye frowns and I laugh softly.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I say quietly.
“Oh. Right, yeah of course,” he says, blushing slightly.
I smile to myself at his sudden discomfort and then I slip into the bathroom. I brush my teeth and wash my face and then I use the toilet. I make my way to my bedroom and push the door open. A figure stands outlined against the window, its back to me, and my hand instinctively reaches for my sword. It’s halfway out when the figure turns and I see it’s Rye.
“Easy there, Sailor,” he cautions me.
I push my sword back away.
“Sorry,” I say. “I just saw someone standing there. I didn’t realize it was you. Is something wrong?”
“No. Why would anything be wrong?” he says.
“Just the way you were looking out there,” I say.
“I was just thinking.” He smiles.
I shake my head. He’s lying.
“What’s really going on?” I ask, pushing the bedroom door shut.
“You want the truth? Fine. It felt wrong getting into your bed without you here,” he says.
I smile. Now he’s telling the truth and it makes me feel warm inside again. For someone who describes themselves as a killing machine, he definitely has a softer side when it comes to me. A side that is quite… what’s the word?… noble. My dad would say he was courting me.
“I have no problem with you being in my bed anytime you want to be there,” I say with a flirty smile.
Rye makes a low moaning sound in the back of his throat. His eyes meet mine for a moment and I see fiery passion burning there, but he catches himself and looks away. He clears his throat and turns away from me, taking his T-shirt off. I smile to myself as I take my own T-shirt off.
I pull the spear out of my pocket and put it underneath my pillow and then I push my sword beneath the mattress. I take my dagger from my boot and put it on my bedside cabinet. I smile to myself again as I think of the arsenal of weapons gathered around me, the deadliest of all being Rye. I think about how my life has changed so much since coming to Whisper. In New York, a place that was supposedly dangerous, I would have had a glass of water and a book beside me. Now in Whisper, a place that’s supposedly safe, I have weapons everywhere. I’m finally living the adventure instead of just reading about it.
I pull my boots off and then I stand up, kick my jeans off, and get into bed. I push the comforter back and pat the bed beside me. Rye smiles almost shyly and then he gets in beside me.
We lie on our sides facing each other, and I am acutely aware of the fact we’re both only in our underwear. I can feel the heat coming off Rye’s body and I swallow hard, tying to swallow down my need for him. I told him I wanted to fight for us, and I do, but I have to know my dad will be safe before I can fully give in to the way I feel about Rye.
He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and strokes my face. He smiles at me and the smile makes my heart ache. I want him so badly.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers.
I feel myself blush slightly, sure he’s teasing me, but I can see his face, the way he looks at me with shining eyes. He is dead serious. Knowing he feels the same about me as I do about him makes resisting him so much harder, and before I can stop myself, I feel myself shuffling closer to him.
I can feel his skin against mine and I move my head closer to his. He moans again as our lips brush against each other. The second my lips brush across his, it’s like we’ve been unleashed. Our kiss deepens instantly, a desperate, panting kiss full of need. Rye wraps his arm around me and pulls my closer to him, pressing my body against his.
I kiss him like I’ve never kissed anyone before, running my hand up and down his back, wanting to feel every inch of him. I bring my hand around to his shoulder and push him onto his back. I follow him, not breaking our kiss for even a second, and I straddle him. I can feel him pressed against me and I know he’s as ready for this as I am.
He reaches up and wraps his arms around me as I kiss him hungrily, pushing my tongue into his mouth. My body is on fire, the good kind of fire, the kind that tells me this is right, that we are meant to be together.
I finally break the kiss, straightening up and grinning down at Rye. I start to reach around my back to unhook my bra. Rye’s eyes never leave mine. He runs his fingertips lightly over my tattoo. As my hands touch my bra, my vision changes and for a second, I’m not looking down on Rye. I’m looking at my father’s body, lying on the ground, his neck at an angle a neck shouldn’t ever be at. I hear two words booming out of the clouds.
“Your fault.”
“Dad,” I whisper.
“Not quite what I was expecting, but I can roll with it.” Rye laughs, pulling me out of my head.
What the hell am I doing? I’m risking my dad’s life for a bit of fun with Rye. I jump away from him like he’s burning me. I can feel my eyes widening, tears filling them. My breathing is ragged and not because I am turned on. I can’t believe what I almost just did.
Rye pushes himself into a sitting position and frowns at me in concern.
“Sailor? What happened? Is everything okay?” he demands.
I shake my head frantically, pushing myself further away from Rye. He backs off a bit, his hands raised.
“It’s okay,” he says. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“That’s the thing though. I do want to. I want to so badly I let myself forget what I was risking,” I say. I can hear the tremor in my own voice. “I risked my dad’s life.”
This time, Rye doesn’t jump away from me and there’s nowhere else for me to go when he closes the gap between us. I don’t have to worry this time though. He understands. He doesn’t try anything. He just wraps me in his arms and kisses the top of my head.
“It’s okay, Sailor. It was a moment of weakness, and with everything that’s going on right now, even the gods will have to see that.”
“Are you sure?” I demand.
“Certain,” he says soothingly. “I swore to you I wouldn’t let the gods hurt your dad. And that hasn’t changed. Now come on. Lie down. Let’s get some sleep.”
I scoot down the bed and lie down again. Rye wraps me in his arms and I let myself relax. I know anything could happen with my dad, with the Horseman. But lying here in Rye’s arms, I have never felt as safe as I do now.
I open my mouth to tell him, but I see that he’s already asleep. I snuggle closer and close my eyes, but my mind is whirling again, and it’s a long time before sleep finally takes me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: MISTAKEN IDENTITY
Fire. Fire everywhere. Smoke dancing across the night.
The smoke starts to clear and I see where I am. I am on the edge of a battlefield. Two large armies face off against each other amongst the fires, one army dressed in red, the other dressed in grey.
Gunshots ring out all around me, punctuated by the agonizing screams of dying men. The air smells of gunpowder, blood, and death. I can hear shouting, cursing, and more shooting, more screaming.
I stand watching the scene before me as though I am in a trance. The armies waste no time. Their shots slice through each other like their lives are worth less than nothing as they both try and fail to get the other side to surrender so they can advance.
I see a man walking around in a daze, his left arm gone from the elbow down. He lifts the bloody stump and looks at it, the shock on his face almost comical to see. It’s as though he didn’t realize half of his arm was gone until he saw the blood, the stump.
Another man stumbles around blindly, unable to see for the blood pouring down his face. I have to look away when I see the shiny white of his
skull, visible where the top of his head has been blown off.
I see a man on his knees, about to collapse onto what is left of his face. His lower face is gone, his jaw blown clean off, half of his nose missing. I can see the pain and the fear in his eyes. He is very much aware of what happened to him, and he knows what’s coming. I look away quickly and almost wish I hadn’t when my eyes land on a man stumbling across the battlefield screaming for a medic. His hands are pressed to his stomach and I can see why. The top of his uniform has been blown to tatters, and he’s trying to hold his intestines in. They keep spilling out around his hands, and each time, he grabs them and pushes them back in.
I avert my eyes again and I meet the eyes of a man. No, a boy. Certainly he’s no older than I am. I can see the fear etched on his face. I can see the emptiness behind his eyes as his mouth moves. At first I think he’s reciting a prayer or something, but then I see he’s just saying three words over and over again.
“Mommy. Help me.”
Somehow, the young guy’s empty eyes pull me from the trance and I look around properly for the first time, looking for whoever is in charge here. I spot a man in a different uniform and I figure it must be him. I start to walk towards him, my feet moving almost of their own accord. I reach the man, the battle raging all around me, bullets whizzing past my face. I feel no fear.
“You have to stop this. Call them off,” I scream at the man. He looks through me as though I’m not there and I tug on his sleeve. “Stop them. This isn’t your fight and it certainly isn’t theirs. It’s mine.”
Still he continues looking straight through me as though I’m not there, and I realize with a start that to him, I’m not there. I’m just an observer. Someone watching the scene but unable to do anything to prevent it.
“Send in the next wave,” the man shouts, turning away from me and looking over his shoulder.
I follow his gaze and see a wave of fresh soldiers running from every direction to join the melee. They don’t look fresh for long. Within seconds half of them are mown down by gunfire and the other half look battle weary already.
I begin to run through the battlefield, tugging on sleeves, shouting, trying to get someone, anyone, to hear me. No one does. I can feel tears of futility prickling behind my eyes. All of this is my fault. I didn’t act quickly enough and War has been unleashed on the world now.
I spot a familiar figure and I feel a burst of relief run through me when I see that it’s Sunday. It means this is just a dream. I can still stop it from becoming reality. I can still beat War.
I run to Sunday, calling his name. For a moment, he doesn’t turn around and I feel a deep-seated panic start to spread through me when I think he can’t hear me either. I scream his name again and this time he does turn around and relief floods me. I can see the horror I feel on Sunday’s face.
“Sailor. Help me,” he says.
I frown. I don’t know how to help him. It’s him that needs to help me. He needs to get me out of this dream so I can end this thing once and for all. As I reach his side, his face changes. The panic and fear are gone. He looks at me calmly and I wonder if I imagined the rest. I don’t have time to dwell on any of that now.
“This means War is fully awake and has found me, doesn’t it?” I say.
Sunday nods solemnly.
“It does. War has begun his end game and he will come for you tonight.”
“Then I need to wake up,” I say. “Help me wake up.”
I jump awake with a gasp, the dream still so fresh in my mind that for a moment, I can still smell the blood and the gunpowder. I lie in the darkness staring at the ceiling for a second, trying to calm my breathing down. I become aware of eyes on me and I sit up quickly.
A figure stands in the doorway to my room, watching me. This is it. Sunday was right. War has come for me, and we will end this tonight. I will end this tonight. I reach out without taking my eyes off the figure and shake Rye, but he doesn’t wake up. He doesn’t even mutter or move at all, and if it wasn’t for the fact I can hear him breathing, I would have thought he was dead.
The figure in the doorway takes a step toward me and I jump up from the bed, not even thinking of the fact I’m in my bra and panties and nothing else. The figure takes another step towards me.
“Relax, Sailor, it’s just me. I heard screaming and wanted to make sure you were alright,” Jinx says.
He steps forward again, standing in the stripe of moonlight that comes in through the window. He doesn’t look crazy or deranged. He just looks like himself, but I know he’s here to end me. I reach for my dagger as he steps closer yet again.
“Sailor? You’re really worrying me now. Are you okay?” he asks.
I don’t answer. I just roar and run at Jinx with my dagger clutched above my head in my fist. I have a better chance of taking him with my dagger than anything else. It’s still my weapon of choice. I can inflict the fatal wound with this and then grab the spear and do what needs to be done to really finish this.
At the last second, just before I bring my blade down, Jinx jumps to one side and avoids being stabbed.
“Sailor, what the fuck are you doing? Have you gone mad or something?” he demands.
I turn back to face him again. He stands a couple of feet away from me watching me as closely as I’m watching him.
“You can drop the act now, Jinx. Or should I say War,” I say.
“War? You think I’m War?” Jinx says.
I have to admit he’s good. He sounds so surprised to hear it that he almost gives me pause. But my dream showed me War is fully awake now. And Sunday said he would come for me tonight. And here he is.
“I know you are,” I say. “So why don’t you at least have the balls to admit it.”
I run at Jinx again, but again he manages to get out of my way.
“What are you waiting for?” I say, taunting him. “Bring it on. Come fucking get me. Or are you too afraid of what will happen if you do? Because trust me, I’m not going down without a fight.”
“Look,” Jinx says, holding his hands up, “I don’t know what’s going on here. Whether you’re still dreaming or whether you’ve gone completely batshit crazy, but I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Oh, I know you’re not. Because I’m going to kill you before you can,” I say.
Jinx shakes his head, still looking totally confused. I’m not going to let him fool me. I run at him again and again he manages to avoid me. He knocks into a shelf and a few ornaments fall to the ground with a crashing sound.
Why isn’t Rye waking up? Why aren’t any of the team coming to investigate the noise? The truth hits me quickly.
“You drugged the hot chocolate, didn’t you? You wanted to make this easy. Kill me in my sleep like the coward you are. Well the joke is on you because I didn’t drink it.”
“I don’t want to kill you. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jinx says. “Please, Sailor. Whatever spell you’re under, it’s me, Jinx. I’m on your side. Fight it, Sailor. Fight whatever is happening to you. I know you’re strong enough.”
I didn’t figure War to be a man of words, but it seems his tactic is to make me doubt myself, to make me believe I have this all wrong. Well it’s not going to work. I got War’s identity wrong once, and I vowed I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. And I’m not. I’m not going to let him make me doubt myself.
I scream and run at Jinx, slashing out with my dagger. He jumps aside again. My blade catches his arm, but it’s barely more than a scratch. A thin line of blood appears on his skin and it convinces me somehow that I can do this. The Horsemen might be powerful, but they’re stuck inhabiting normal bodies. I can take Jinx. I’ve done it before in training, and this time, there’s a lot more at stake than pride.
“GODDAMNIT, Sailor! Snap out of it,” Jinx shouts.
“And make it easy for you? I don’t fucking think so.”
I step towards Jinx and he takes a
step back. He still hasn’t pulled his own weapon out. He’s baiting me, biding his time. Well this is his last chance, because this ends now. I take another step closer and Jinx takes another step back. I take another step, and I raise the dagger. Jinx backs up another step and his back hits the wall. I grin. I have him now. He’s cornered, and if I strike quickly, he won’t even have time to reach for his weapon.
I launch myself forward and slash down with the dagger. I realize, too late, that I have underestimated Jinx. He doesn’t try to go for his weapon or duck to one side. Instead, he reaches up with one hand and grabs my wrist. He holds it tightly and I kick out, but he holds on.
“I’m sorry, Sailor. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m not going to let you kill me. Once you snap out of this trance or whatever the hell it is, you’ll thank me for this,” he says.
He twists my wrist and I scream as pain engulfs my arm. I kick out again, but Jinx ignores the blows I’m landing on his shins and keeps twisting. My wrist is on the point of breaking and I lose the grip in my fingers. My dagger drops to the ground and Jinx kicks it away. Fuck. Now I’m screwed.
Jinx keeps his hold on my wrist, although he stops twisting it. He reaches out to grab my other wrist and I go wild, clawing at him, punching at him. It’s no use. He gets my other wrist in his grip and then he spins me around and holds me in a tight bear hug, my arms trapped at my sides.
“Tell me how to help you, Sailor. Tell me how to bring you out of this.”
“Let me go,” I shout.
I twist and writhe, but it’s no use. Jinx is stronger than me and with the Horseman inside of him, I have no chance of overpowering him this way. I look around, frantically searching for a way out, but there’s nothing I can do, nothing I can grab even if I could get an arm free.
This is it. I failed. I’m sorry, I think to myself. I’m so sorry I let everyone down.