by L A Kennedy
* * * *
Captain Salas Warner, Captain for Team One of the Netherworld Taskforce—the monster squadron—leaned over the long wooden table at the compound. Maps lined the table from one end to the next. When he spoke, everyone listened. He didn’t waste words. He didn’t use small talk, and he demanded attention. If he thought someone had something better to do than paying attention to him, he’d knock them on their ass as a reminder of what was more important. This was life and death. He didn’t have time for bullshit on his taskforce. He’d boot anyone who didn’t take it as seriously as the father who’d died to protect his family or the mother who’d fought off a Hellyon to save her children.
This was all or nothing. No member of Warner’s team wanted to be the idiot who made the wrong choice. The task force, once seen as a joke, was now the place to be. To be kicked off Warner’s team would land them at some desk job or punching out parking violations on Blood Alley, either of which would make a person eat their gun.
“We’re cleaning house tonight, boys,” Warner spoke, giving Des a wink. She was never insulted to be considered one of the boys. “A citywide curfew is in effect. Tonight there will be no tryhal. We are judge, jury and executioner. No one gets a hall pass. We have been given the green light for a complete cleansing of the poison running in our streets. We are taking out any trace of the Rancor Order. No one stops until the threat of the very fucking sun sends you into the shadows. But in those fuckin’ shadows, you fight. You fight until we have scoured the filth from our homes. You fight until you fucking die. I will accept nothing less. Those who give up, do not come back. That failure will earn you a bullet with me standing over you, ripping the dog tags from your neck. You will not have earned the honor of those tags.”
Warner marked the maps with the information that Des had dragged out of Garm. Little dots decorated them. These were where the Order stored either chemical or Proletaryans. They would hit every hideout and cache of weapons, drugs and men. They were taking them down, hitting them with everything they had. Everyone connected to the Rancor Order would be taken down, fast and hard.
“Keep tight. I want to go home and hug my wife and children. And I want to be able to look my wife in the eyes and tell her that our children have a fighting chance,” Warner spoke, eyeballing each man and woman in the room. “I want to see each and every one of you back here at dawn. Team, drop your letters on the table and muster.”
Each of Warner’s men stepped forward, placing a letter to their loved ones on the table. If one of them didn’t make it back, their letter would be delivered to the address on the front. No one wanted to have to deliver it, but Warner wouldn’t hit the streets without each letter accounted for. He was a hard ass, but Zylan and everyone else in the room respected the hell out of him.
“This isn’t for complete strangers. You’re doing this for your family. You fight to get your asses back for them,” Warner said, pointing to the table. “Move out.”
“Hooah!” the room sounded off in unison. Warner’s words had been heard, understood and acknowledged.
Zylan turned to the sound of Neri and Ester talking. Neri was dressed in full gear and carrying medical supplies. Seeing her dressed for war made him hard, yet it scared the shit out of him.
“Let’s not do this again, Zy. I’m coming, and that’s final,” Neri said, shaking her head, not bothering to wait for his objection.
When she’d found out about the skirmish, she’d started packing supplies. Zylan had tried to reason with her then dropped to his knees and begged her. When that had failed, he’d panicked. He’d gone through a cycle of grief, right down to the anger and final acceptance.
Zylan nodded and swallowed the bile trying to crawl its way out of his mouth in the form of a gut-wrenching scream. He pulled Neri to the side of the room, touching her face, only now realizing the torture Cael went through every time Des went out on a hunt.
“I love you. Please, dear Orygin, be careful out there,” Zylan whispered, his fingertips shaking against her cheek. “I’ll die without you. I won’t make it, Neri, unless I have you.”
Neri lifted to her tiptoes, kissing his nose. “I love you. We will meet up here at dawn. Don’t be late.”
He smiled, nibbled on her bottom lip then said, “I’m never late.”
Bane cleared his throat, grabbing their attention. “Sorry, guys, but, Neri, we have to go. My people are waiting.”
Neri and Ester would be escorted by a small pack of Therians for protection. Bane was in charge of Neri’s team. He would be in full shift. Zylan trusted Bane to have his back any time, but this was different. This was more than his life. This was everything. Neri wouldn’t heal like Zylan would. She couldn’t take a bullet and shake it off. She was like the finest piece of china teetering on a ledge during an earthquake.
Zylan gave Bane another hard look. “Bane, please…”
Bane clapped Zylan on the shoulder, giving it an understanding squeeze. Bane stepped in front of Zylan and went down on one knee. “I am a wolf who does not stray from its path. With the very last breath in my body, I will see she does not stray from hers. I will protect her with the lives of my people, unto my death. She shall be my moon. I will follow her to the edges of the earth.”
Bane’s words calmed Zylan. He knew Bane would die before leaving Neri without protection. Zylan wished he could be the one to watch over her, but also knew he would be the one to get her killed. His concentration would be lost. He would fight in fear. She would pay for it. It was the same reason Cael and Des were hugging in the other corner. They would not fight together either. Zylan gave Neri one last kiss then watched her run from the room, Bane at her six.
“Let your faith be bigger than your fear,” Sid said, as he moved up to Zylan’s side. “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”
“Corinthians. I honestly didn’t think you had ever read the Bible, much less could quote it,” Zylan said, jabbing Sid in the ribs and laughing.
Sid smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “First time I’ve actually quoted scripture, but I thought you needed it. I’m not saying she’s not coming home. What I’m saying is that she doesn’t have to be here for you to love her. You will always have that love. No one can take that away from your soul. Your soul never forgets.”
Sid stepped away, leaving Zylan wondering what had made the Watchyr get so sappy. Zylan let it go, focusing on his thoughts of his Fyrvor. Zylan would see her again, either way—in this life or the next. He would pray to the Orygin that he could hold Neri’s living body in his arms again. If they were fated to be together, they would be. They would both fight tooth and nail to make it home on time. It was all they could do. Zylan would use that love every step of the way tonight. He filled his heart with hope and faith then pushed forward. He would need it each time he kicked down a door.
* * * *
Neri crawled through the rubble, Bane crawling behind her in full shift. Her hands were bloodied. Some of it belonged to her and some from the dead and dying. She remembered stories from her haraboji, her grandfather. He’d fought in the Korean War and had suffered greatly. He had said the true measure of a man was not in how great he could kill, but in how brave he could be in the face of death. Bravery had nothing to do with your fear.
More than that, it took courage to crawl through bodies to get to your people. It took courage to drag your own bloodied body to those who were too brave to scream out for help. Their silent bravery kept her alive. Neri would honor them by pushing forward, taking on her own injuries.
Bane bit at her boot, stopping her forward movement. She didn’t make a sound. He wouldn’t have stopped her without reason.
To her right, what was left of a brick wall hid her location. She could hear the shuffling in the debris. Straining her ears, she could hear whispers. They were heading in the direction of where she knew a man was trapped under rubble.
She looked back to Bane and held
up two fingers. Bane nodded his head awkwardly. He could hear them better than she could. He could hear each individual’s heart beating. She slowly let go of her medic bag. Her gun had been in her hand since the very first explosion. They had lost two Therians, an hour ago. It was just her and Bane. Closing her eyes, she calmed her body. Years of meditation would be of use now. She grounded herself.
She opened her ears to every noise, right down to the settling dust. She breathed in the air, smelling blood, wolf and rotting. She felt the ground under her—the rocks and glass, bits of wet flesh and the coolness of old blood. She focused on the two men moving toward her downed man.
Bane pulled on her boot again, trying to give her a look. He didn’t want her to do this. She knew it. She gave him a look back. She was doing it with or without him. Bane let go of her boot. He’d be in this fight if she was.
She lifted her hand and motioned three fingers. He nodded his large and furry head. One finger, two fingers… She closed her eyes and lifted the third finger. In one solid movement, she stood and fired her gun twice, hitting both. Bane was over the wall and on them, bones snapping, screams muffled under the pressure of his jaws. One final snap and they were both down, gone from this life of evil cruelty.
Neri grabbed her bag and ran. Her ears were still in tune for sounds she should worry about. She stepped over bodies and on top of them. She wanted to show respect for the dead, but she was out in the open, and she couldn’t avoid stepping on a few fallen, here and there.
Her breathing coming hard and fast, she didn’t remember holding it. She focused on the task at hand. The man on the ground was a civilian. She’d thought he was one of Warner’s, but it was just a man, clinging to his metal lunch box. His wedding ring glinted in the moonlight that was now shining down inside the broken building.
“I didn’t scream,” he whispered. “I knew you would come. I saw you.”
Neri lifted her finger to her lips. She needed him to keep quiet. She didn’t know who else was out there, or who might be listening for little whispers. She scanned his body, and her breath caught in her throat. The rubble that had trapped him was also the only thing keeping him alive. The edge of the cement beam that had come down on top of him was lying on top of his chest, and it was what kept him from bleeding out.
Bane growled, the noise vibrating deep into her bones. Neri didn’t have time to react. The trapped man’s lunch box clanged against the rubble, as Bane pushed her down onto her side. The gunfire echoed in her ears, bouncing off the broken walls and metal.
She could hear bones snapping and flesh tearing. Turning over, she saw the trapped man bleeding out from a shot to the chest. She scrambled in the broken bricks, cutting her knees and hands. Pulling herself to his chest, she pressed on the new wound.
He pulled his ring from his finger and pried Neri’s hands from his chest. “Mable, her name is Mable Wright.”
“Hold on, please,” Neri whispered, her eyes filling with tears, but he was gone.
She grabbed the ring and pushed it into her vest, cursing under her breath. Bane pulled at her with his teeth. It was time to move on. She knew she had to, but she was angry—so bloody angry.
“He was just going home from work,” Neri whispered. “Going home to his wife. He was a civilian. He had nothing to do with this—nothing.”
Bane growled again and pulled at her, whining. She knew she had to get up. She knew she had go to. She was forced to leave this man who’d just saved her life behind, like something less than a precious soul. He was more than garbage, more than useless, but she left him. She picked up her bag and followed Bane down Blood Alley. She followed him to the next wounded man—and the next.
Neri had her gun out and ready. She didn’t wait. She fired for the man who wouldn’t make it home to Mable. There was no mercy left inside her. She recited the Hippocratic Oath, the first version she had learned, the classical version her mother had framed on her office wall, a gift from her father. Her mother had lived by that oath every day of her life. And when her father had passed, her mother recited that oath. It reminded her of her mate.
“I swear by Apollo Physician and Asclepius and Hygieia and Panaceia and all the gods and goddesses, making them my witnesses, that I will fulfill according to my ability and judgment this oath and this covenant,” she repeated. Neri moved from body to body, doing what she could and taking a moment of silence when she was too late.
She found Ester hiding out. Her Therians were long gone. They pushed on, reciting the oath together. Hearing Ester’s voice had calmed Neri, keeping her focused.
“Do you think we breached the oath? I mean, I just stabbed a guy in the throat with a knife I pulled out of his vic,” Ester asked, grinning.
“I don’t think that applies. I’m sure there’s a loophole or two. I shot a guy in the eye. I’d thought he was a good guy. I patched him up, he pulled a gun and I shot him. I mean, I spent ten minutes on that fucker, only to kill him. Waste of my damn time,” Neri replied, finally laughing. She knew it was the stress taking over, but she did find it funny.
Bane led the way. Ester would treat them, and Neri would stand guard. She took out anything that Bane growled at. At each location, she prayed she wouldn’t find Zylan. She made Ester call out from the bodies if it was Zylan. Neri needed the reassurance. She was going nuts, thinking she’d stumble on the body of her Fyrvor. She knew that if she’d found him, she might as well die out there beside him. Without him, it wasn’t a life. She’d merely exist in a world that meant nothing.
Finally, with an hour until sunrise, Bane whined. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, Neri didn’t register that it could be a good guy. She grabbed the arm and pulled the body forward as she leaned. She pulled with everything she had, yanking him over and onto the ground in front of her. Still holding his arm, she spun, locking the wrist and pressing a blade into the throat of the man who’d touched her.
Bane sneezed, resembling what Neri thought could be a laugh.
“I’ll take that as a no, you don’t want to walk home with me?” Zylan asked, grinning, holding on to her wrist.
Neri closed her eyes, looked up to the sky and shook with gratitude. Her chest vibrated with silent sobs. “Orygin, thank you.”
Zylan pulled her down to his chest and hugged her bloodied body. He was clearly just as thankful. “Let’s go home, Fyrvor. The fight is over. The wounded are being packed out.”
Walking hand in hand, Neri and Zylan met the rest of the Slayers on Blood Alley. Looking around, tonight Blood Alley had truly earned its name. The good guys had suffered a great many causalities. The Slayers had lost four new recruits. Bane’s people had lost a dozen, trying to protect Ester, Neri and the Slayers. Warner’s men would be grieving eight deaths. Almost fifty civilians, all caught in the middle on their way home from work, had perished. The men and women who weren’t able to afford a night off had paid with their lives, while trying to put food on their tables.
Countless injured were being reported. Every Slayer needed stitches and bandages. Once home, Ester and Neri refused to remain in the compound. They followed Bane into the woods, to honor his people. They’d given their lives for Neri and Ester to make it out alive, and they would honor the fallen Therians and their sacrifice for a war that had only touched their homes when they had been asked for help. They paid tribute then left Therian territory, leaving them to their grief and customs.
Zylan had waited for Neri. She found him leaning against the wall in the den, safe from the sun. They went back to their room. Together they washed the night from each other. Delicately they loved each other. Dried, they wrapped up in bed—safe, alive and stronger than ever.
The darkness had come, and it had fought a good fight, but the Slayers had fought harder, hand in hand with the Netherworld. They’d fought with love and with faith, and they’d fought for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. They fought for goodness, for a future they all prayed for. They fought for hope. Their inner light was bright en
ough to wash the darkness away. In its wake, the darkness had left broken walls, blood-soaked streets and torn families. Strain may have knocked them down, but they’d gotten back up, stronger than before.
“I love you, Fyrvor,” Zylan whispered. With Neri tucked under his arm, he lifted her hand and slid his mother’s ring onto her finger. “Marry me. Do me the honor of being my wife. I promise, I’ll never be late.”
“Yes,” Neri whispered back.
She let herself crack wide open and cry in his arms. She was thankful, genuinely thankful. They’d made it back, together—a blessing so many were not granted on this night.
Once she’d thought she’d be single for all time, with no room for someone in her world. Then she’d found Zylan. She’d found someone who would sit at her feet while she worked for twenty hours straight. He never complained about the hours she put in. He would bring her food and coffee, sharpen her pencils and would re-braid her hair. He would sit happily with her talking about things he didn’t understand, but he would enjoy every word. He would research with her, pulling up information on the computer, and he would read the reports to her.
And when Zylan would return from his hunts and she was asleep at her desk, he would make sure everything was saved and backed up, put everything away exactly where it belonged and carry her to bed.
Zylan had never once pressured her into consummating their relationship or pushed her for anything more than a kiss and his arms around her as she slept. He never questioned it. He never mentioned it. He let her heal, and he was there to talk to when she woke up from nightmares. Zylan had started doing yoga with her, grunting and snapping, then he would tackle her to the floor with a kiss or tickles.