A Dance of War

by Ellie R. Hunter

  “Ms. Camarco?” a voice calls out.

  A woman’s voice.

  Light shines over Mila and myself, but we still can’t make out who’s coming toward us. Raising my hand over my eyes, I try to shield the bright intrusion, but it doesn’t help with getting even a small look at the two figures.

  “Who’s there?” Mila calls back.

  “It’s Gabriella.”

  A torch is rolled toward us, and Mila scoops it up, shining it over the woman. I don’t believe what I’m seeing.

  “What are you doing down here?” she asks the pair.

  “They will rise together, hand in hand, and wash the blood and violence away,” the woman Gabriella says, and a short-haired, pixie looking woman steps up beside her. “You look like you could do with some more hands.”

  A sob escapes Mila, and when she wipes her eyes, Gabriella steps closer.

  “No time for tears, Ms. Camarco. We’ve got peace to fight for.”

  “How? How did you know to come here?”

  “Father Luke sent word, told us where to come.”

  I’m going to kiss that fucking man. Time and time again, he pulls through for us.

  “It’s about time we make this damn prophecy come true,” Gabriella vows.

  “Yes,” Mila says, nodding. “It damn well is.”

  III

  Hand In Hand

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Jamila

  The women from the refuge stand before me, and no longer do I see fear and anxiety shining in their eyes, but courage and determination. I must thank Father Luke. Though how he knew to send word to them, I’m not sure.

  A disgruntled noise distracts me, and I turn to find Raphael pushing himself up the wall, red-faced, and clearly in pain.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Gabriella asks, narrowing her eyes at Raphael.

  “He was shot.”

  Going over to him, sweat pebbles his forehead, and it’s the weakest I’ve ever seen him. Even when I shot him in the arm, he stood there like I had missed.

  “You still with us?” I ask him, keeping my voice low.

  “You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

  He’s halfway up, and I wrap his arm around my shoulders to offer him support. “Gabriella, help me with him. We need to get out of here.”

  “We’ve got you covered,” Lila informs me. With Gabriella taking Raphael’s other side, it’s not long before we get to the end of the tunnel where the daylight hurts my eyes.

  “Our car is over by the bushes.”

  I nod to Gabriella as Lila leads the way. Raphael becomes heavier the farther we walk, and I’m thankful when we reach the car. He exhales long and hard once he’s settled on the back seat. Rounding the car, I slide in beside him as Gabriella and Lila jump into the front where Lila turns to us from the passenger seat.

  “There’s a blanket by your feet, you might want to cover yourselves. When we drove out here, the town was swarming with people.”

  I grab the chequered blanket and shake it before pulling it over us and holding it tight, ready to hide under it if we need to.

  “I never thought there’d be a day where you looked after me.”

  Focusing on Raphael, his eyes are no longer so bright. “Don’t be going soft on me, Raphe. I don’t want to die as much as you don’t.”

  His laugh is strained as he winces from the pain. “Is it that hard for you to relax around me and admit you’re worried for me?”

  Snorting, I say, “Stop being so dramatic. There’s nothing for me to worry about. You’re going to be fine.”

  “I’m bleeding here,” he reminds me.

  “I don’t remember you being so melodramatic. I shot you before and you survived.”

  “I don’t remember you being so cold,” he declares, full of humour.

  Being around him like this, it’s hard to remember we’re with other people until Lila instructs us to get down and out of sight.

  I pull the blanket over us, and in the dimness, it’s clear to see him staring at me. “We’ll get your house back, Mila.”

  The estate is the last thing I’m thinking about, but I appreciate his intention.

  “Just concentrate on getting back on two feet. We need to get the city back. My house can wait.”

  “As usual, you always put everyone before yourself.”

  The car comes to a sharp stop and I jolt forward, Raphael’s hand shooting out to hold my arm, holding me in place.

  “We’re here,” Gabriella sings, opening their doors.

  Ripping the blanket off, the door on Raphael’s side opens with Gabriella leaning in to help him out. Sliding out after him, we take our positions as Lila waits by the back door of the women’s refuge, holding it open for us.

  Leading him into one of the bathrooms, I curse that the engagement didn’t last long enough for Alexander to pay out for the renovations like he promised the women he would. I mean, I’ll cover the costs, no matter the price, but it would have been nice for the city to pay.

  “Sit him under the light so I can see better,” Lila orders, reaching for a medical bag from the top shelf.

  “Do you trust her?” Raphael asks me, keeping his voice low.

  “I do. Now, be a good patient and try not to cry. We wouldn’t want anyone to see you’re human.”

  As Lila works on his thigh, she doesn’t seem concerned with how bad it is, so I’m hoping that’s a good sign. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, I look out at already darkening sky. Night is coming.

  “Are you a nurse?” he questions.

  “Not on paper, but after spending so many years tending to injuries, some caused by your men, but mostly injuries inflicted by men thinking it’s okay to take their anger out on us women, the very people they claim to love, you pick up talents when needed.”

  Raphael may have claimed to want me dead, but I now know that to be a lie. I’ve never known him to go after a woman. His father thought nothing of having my mother killed, but Raphael was different than him.

  He’s still the boy I loved, only now he’s all man, his edge much harder than it used to be. Perhaps we were never destined to be together back then, but now, when we both have grown and know who we are ourselves, individually. Maybe that’s what will make us stronger together?

  Lila finishes up with his leg and passes him a bottle of painkillers. “Take two every four hours and you’ll be fine.”

  Gabriella throws a pair of sweatpants at him, which he catches with one hand.

  “These will have to do. The women around here will be going to bed shortly, but they’re not going to want you parading around in your underwear. We brought you here because of Jamila, but our residents come first. The women here are wary of men, so you make one move that scares them, you’re out.”

  He nods. “I understand.”

  He won’t put the women here in harm’s way, I can vouch that much for him. Gabriella turns to me and opens the door.

  “Can we talk?”

  Heaving myself up to my feet, I follow her out into the hall. We walk toward the canteen where every table is full of women, talking quietly amongst themselves.

  I smell the faint, lingering scent of his cologne before he limps to my side, standing closer to me than usual.

  “They’re all wanting to fight. Everyone who can will stand behind you.”

  Before I can open my mouth, Raphael speaks. “We’re going to need guns.”

  A snort hits our ears from behind, and Lila walks around us, piercing the air with a whistle.

  “Did you hear that, ladies? The man thinks we’re unprepared.”

  Movement across the canteen renders Raphael speechless, as from under tables and chairs, the women pull out various types of weapons.

  I can’t help but smile. I’ve known many of these women for a long time, and while I can’t say I knew they held their own arsenal of weapons, I knew they were fighters, fighting for their own protection, to live a life free from violence.


  Lila spins on her heel and stares directly at the only man in the place.

  “This isn’t our first fight, but it sure will be our last. Give us your word the blood will stop raining in Vita once this is over with, and you have our word we’ll help you in any way we can.”

  “You don’t have to. We have men coming in to help us.”

  Her laugh is laced with doubt and sarcasm. “Men haven’t won this fight in two hundred years. This city doesn’t belong to men, and men won’t see us coming. They’re too busy assuming we’re nothing more than vessels to bear their children and clean their homes. We’re well past believing men will be our saviour—we’re our own saviour.”

  She walks off, and Gabriella scoops up a toddler hanging on her leg. Lowering his voice, Raphe says, “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t patronize them. These women live in fear every day. Keeping a gun and rising to fight when they feel like they don’t have any other choice shouldn’t impress you.” I turn to Gabriella. “I need a phone.”

  We’re safe for now, but Trey and Cristian should be back soon, and they’ll need to know what to expect when they return to the city.

  She digs out her cell from her pocket and passes it over. Trey’s number is the only one I can remember off the top of my head, so I punch it in.

  It rings out four times before he answers, and I turn my back on the women.

  “It’s Mila. Please tell me you’re making progress.”

  “We’ve managed to round up eighty men. Cristian has sorted the guns, which will be arriving in the city before midnight.”

  “We need more than eighty men.”

  “And we’ll find them. A lot are approaching us, as word spreads fast in Dermelan. How are you getting on?”

  I fill him in on what happened when we arrived at the estate and inhale deeply.

  “We should come back now,” he insists.

  “No, stay where you are, and get us the soldiers. We’re at the women’s refuge, so we’re safe for now.”

  Hanging up, I hand the phone back and cross my arms over my chest. It’s getting cold.

  “Now, we wait. Men are coming, and so is a shipment of guns.”

  “In that case, you should eat. I can have some leftovers from dinner warmed up for you.” Lila curls her lip in Raphael’s direction. “You too, I suppose.”

  “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

  As we make our way to a table on the far side of the canteen, most women shuffle around for a bed. The place is deserted within minutes, and the silence is golden. Lila places two plates of lasagne before us with cutlery and disappears.

  “So this is where you come every Wednesday?” he asks, sliding his food around his plate.

  “Yes.”

  “This is more like you.”

  “You speak like I’m two different people.”

  He shovels in a mouthful of lasagne and cocks his brow, silently telling me that’s exactly what he thinks of me.

  “We were bound to change whether we stayed together or not.”

  “I guess I didn’t count on you changing so much,” he retorts.

  “Have I really changed that much?”

  Shaking his head, he swallows his food before saying, “Change isn’t always a bad thing.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Raphael

  Mila is talking with Gabriella and Lila, as well as a couple of other women I’ve yet to meet. Women pass by me, and it’s clear they’re wary of me being here. My presence is unsettling them, and the longer I sit here, the more I see their strength in coming forward to fight with us. I should have known better from knowing Mila’s strength and not assumed they need protecting.

  My gaze flits back toward Mila and she yawns, trying to hide it behind her hand. She’s tired, and she needs sleep, but I know better than to try and tell her to find a bed. Yet I’m still me, so I call her over. Excusing herself, she makes her way over and sits beside me.

  “You need to rest. If you want, you can find somewhere to sleep, and I’ll wake you when Cristian and Trey return.”

  “How’s your leg?” she asks instead.

  “It’s fine.”

  It’s a lie, and we both know it. It’s aching to shit. “What were you talking about over there?”

  It’s better to ask and seek a distraction from the pain.

  “They want to know if they can trust you.”

  “What did you say?”

  She looks away, and I lean over to turn her face back toward me. “What did you say, Mila?”

  “I told them I trusted you, and they said my word was enough to let you stay and fight for you.”

  She trusts me! It’s music to my fucking ears. Pressing my lips against hers, she stiffens under my touch and tries to pull back.

  “People will look.”

  Not giving her the space she needs to get away from me, I coax, “You trust me.” Sweeping my tongue across her bottom lip, I whisper, “You’re mine now.” Another kiss and she relaxes, returning the need I have for her to be close. “We’ll see about that. We have to survive first.” She presses her lips once more to mine before backing away. I allow it because she doesn’t move far, just a few inches.

  “Stop fighting this. We’re going to survive, Mila. I have too much to lose now. I’ll fucking fight them all knowing it’ll lead you back to me.”

  She doesn’t come back at me with a retort. Instead, she leans her head on my shoulder.

  We sit like this for the next couple of hours, long after everyone but Gabriella and Lila have gone to bed. This isn’t going to be the last time I hold her without feeling she’ll run at any moment. I’ve been chasing this for over ten years and almost believed I’d never find the same thrill her touch gave me. Embracing it now causes the hunger I have for it to grow to proportions that could drop me to my knees.

  My eyes grow heavy, and the second I let them droop, Cristian and Trey are walking across the canteen, causing Mila to put some space between us.

  It’s just before 6 a.m., and they look as tired as I feel. Cristian takes in the sweatpants and cocks his brow. “How’s the leg?”

  “Fine,” I grit out. “What’s the lowdown?”

  Trey stands beside him, judgement evident in his eyes. “We managed to round up enough numbers to make a difference, and the gun shipment arrived at your house last night.”

  “We have numbers too.” They wait for her to elaborate. “The women here, they have their own weapons, and they’re more than willing to help us end this.”

  Cristian snorts. “Women?”

  Damn, I feel for him.

  Mila looks back to him so fast, her neck cracks in two different places. “Yes, women. It’s been a long night, so I suggest you keep your sexism to yourself.”

  He doesn’t argue with her, but falls into a chair across the table from us.

  Not wanting them to start a new feud, I ask him, “What activity was around Mila’s estate when you drove back into the city?”

  “It was quiet, but the drive was lined with expensive cars. Whoever’s taken it over has the power in running this.”

  Trey sits at Mila’s side and places his hand on hers. The tic in my right eye dances a merry fucking jig at the sight of it. But when she withdraws it, he gets the hint to stay the fuck away.

  “We’ll take it back, Mila,” he assures her. “I promise.”

  Sometimes, I wonder if he knows her as well as I’ve assumed he does, given how long and how closely they’ve worked together.

  She stands and looks down at me.

  “We’ll use your house as a base. I don’t want this place being targeted because of us. I’ll speak with Gabriella, and then we’ll leave.”

  I’m thankful they helped us in our hour of need, but I’ll be more comfortable in my own home.

  She’s no more than twenty feet away when I lean across to Trey, making my intentions clear.

  “From now on, no more touching Mila. You’re her employee and that�
��s it.”

  Tensing, he shoots up from his seat. I mirror his actions, but I’m not as fast, thanks to my leg. He stands there, narrowing his eyes into slits while grinding his jaw, but he says nothing.

  “If you’ve got something to say, say it now, because after tonight, shit’s going to change.”

  “I take orders from Jamila, not you.”

  “I’m not giving you an order, I’m outright threatening you. I’m letting you know she’s with me now, and if I see you all touchy feely with her again, I’ll have your hands cut from your wrists and shoved up your ass.”

  He wants to come at me, to throw the first punch. But being the pussy he is, he backs off.

  With a bored sigh, Cristian taunts, “Run along, Trey. Nobody wants to clean up your blood this early in the morning.”

  The prick listens to the good advice, muttering something about waiting in the car, and I sit back down.

  “Now that you’re done pissing on your girl, can you explain to me how a bunch of women are going to save us?”

  I smirk, grateful Mila wasn’t around to hear him. All I need now is to have her back and them locking horns.

  “I suppose time will tell, Cousin.”

  If he truly wants an answer, he can ask himself.

  I watch her every move, struggling to look away from her for even a moment, and relax when she walks back over.

  “Where’s Trey gone?” she asks, flicking her eyes between us.

  “He went to wait in the car. Something about the stench of urine in the air,” Cristian informs her cockily.

  Ignoring him, she holds her hand out toward me. “Let’s go. Gabriella and Lila will wait for further instructions.”

  I could walk without her, but I take her hand, taking any excuse to have her close, and we head out the same way we entered. Trey is already sitting up front, but Mila doesn’t question why.

  The sun is beginning to rise, but the dusk still offers us a level of security as we drive across the city.

  “It worries me as to why it’s so quiet,” Mila murmurs. “It makes me wonder how many of our men have died.”