Sedition

by Raven Dark

  “There’s nothing we can do!” he snapped, yanking me along with him. “The shit in those flashbangs will lay you out if you inhale too much of it. Sheriff!”

  The General strode out of the black cloud, that chain whip in his steel grip, a cloth over the lower half of his face.

  “They got Emmy,” Pretty Boy said before he could ask.

  I collapsed to the ground coughing, my eyes watering. Pretty Boy crouched down, his palm rubbed my back, his other arm steadying me.

  “I heard.” Sheriff dispatched a Dreg who rode past, catching him with his chain and yanking him from his bike. The General’s movements looked sluggish, but he managed to get the Dreg to the ground.

  Hawk brought down two more Dregs behind the General, cutting off the head of one, then the other with two strokes of his blade. Only Hawk looked unaffected by the flashbang’s poison. Or perhaps not. When the last man went down, he swayed dangerously and coughed.

  Beside him, Sheriff grabbed the Dreg he’d taken down, his arm around his neck from behind. The Dreg struggled, cursing and flailing. Sheriff snapped his neck with a single jerk and a grunt. He let the Dreg drop heavily at his feet.

  “You all right, General?” Hawk shouted over the din.

  Without answering, and without the slightest change in his cold expression, Sheriff collapsed to the ground, flat on his back, and was still.

  “Master!” I struggled to my feet, but my head swam, sending me back to my knees. I heard Pretty Boy say something I couldn’t make out. Nausea clutched at me, and I emptied my stomach. I tried to stand again, but the world spun before my eyes.

  I collapsed into someone’s arms, and the world went black.

  Chapter 11

  Sheriff’s Orders

  Consciousness slowly pulled me up from the darkness an unidentifiable time later. Light played on the other side of my closed eyelids, and muffled voices reached my ears. Some ineffable urge compelled me to keep my eyes closed, as if an unseen force were trying to keep me in a too long and unpleasant dream.

  Fear, fear of a dream whose images I couldn’t see, tried to pull me back under, while the voices around me came slowly into focus, like men speaking from the end of a long tunnel and coming closer. I latched onto those voices like a lifeline, allowing them to pull me back into the real world, away from wherever I had been while I slept.

  Wherever I had been, it was a place I didn’t want to be. Inhabited by someone I didn’t want to see.

  Someone frightening.

  Someone dangerous.

  I willed myself not to be pulled back under.

  “She’s coming around. Setora? Setora, come back to us.”

  Doc’s voice, close beside me.

  “Come on, Kitten. Open your eyes.”

  Hawk. Warmth settled in my belly. A sense of safety wrapped around me like a heated blanket on a deathly cold night.

  I blinked my eyes open. Light stabbed at them, and I squeezed them shut with a wince. “Bright…” I whispered.

  “Less light, Doc. It’s hurting her.” A hand closed around mine, rough, calloused, strong, protective. I knew it was Hawk. His hands had been all over me so many times, I’d have known the feel of them anywhere.

  “I’ll put out one of the candles.” Doc’s voice again.

  Behind my eyes, the light dimmed. I blinked slowly, and my eyes adjusted to the faint glow of the candle in Doc’s hand. He stood on one side of me, Hawk sitting on the other. He was leaning over, his fingers running through my hair.

  “There you are, Kitten.”

  The relief in his voice made me smile. His face looked drawn and too pale, and I didn’t think it was out of worry for me.

  “Are you all right, Master?” I took his warm palm in mine.

  “I’m good.” He sat up, giving my hand a light squeeze.

  Was he? With Hawk, it was hard to tell. He looked sturdy and alert, but he might have just been using some advanced Yantu technique to shut himself off.

  “How are you feeling?” Doc asked before I could press my master. Doc set the candle down and seated himself on my bed.

  My bed. I looked down at myself.

  I lay, not on a bed, but on a sleeping bag, the top pulled over, making me almost too warm. Something soft that felt like leather cushioned my head. The tarp of a black tent formed the walls of a single room, a lantern hanging from the top of it. Most of the tent was filled with crates and boxes, a few books.

  Books. A black tent. This was Sheriff’s tent.

  Memories slashed at my thoughts. A cloud of gas and men coughing. Someone being shot with a bolt. Men dead, but who? A hauntingly beautiful garden, with someone trying to talk me into staying there. Sheriff collapsing in front of me.

  Had Sheriff’s collapse been real? It couldn’t have been.

  My mind spun. I tried to make sense of what was real and what wasn’t. Then…

  Emmy’s voice, screaming in terror rang in my ears, and a man with a bright blue mohawk loomed in my mind. He was laughing, and then he was riding away with Emmy…

  I jerked upright, moving to throw the sleeping bag off. “Emmy, they took Emmy, didn’t they, Master?”

  “Setora.” Doc gently pushed my shoulders back down. “Relax. Let’s take care of you first.”

  “Me? Why aren’t you going after Emmy? Why are—?” Again, I’d tried to sit up, ignoring the wave of dizziness that hit me. Doc’s hands tightened on my shoulders, keeping me flat.

  Either he was incredibly strong, or I was still weak. I had a feeling it was both.

  “You aren’t going anywhere yet.” Hawk stood up and crossed his arms. I had the impression he was barring me from the entrance to the tent.

  “Master.”

  “If you try to leave, things will become unpleasant for you.”

  Was he threatening me? He wore a crooked hint of a smile that didn’t match his words. At my questioning look, he nodded down at me.

  I glanced down. Except for the sleeping bag covering me, I was nude. I checked under the covering. Not a stitch. I cocked my head at him, feeling a bolt of annoyance. “I’m naked.”

  Doc grinned, but then cleared his throat and became serious. “The acrinite gas. It affected you worse than everyone else. I wanted to minimize your exposure to it as much as possible, so I had your men take your clothes until they could be washed.”

  I pushed aside worry over my own health and looked at both men. “Are the others okay? Where are they?”

  Outside the tent, I could hear men talking in the distance, some calling to each other, accompanied with the odd clang and thud.

  “The others are mending. They’ll be fine in a few hours. We weren’t sure about you, though.”

  “Why? Wait, how long was I out?”

  “You were in and out for the first few hours. You seemed to improve shortly after, but you were still out of it, so we let you sleep for… I guess it’s been about six hours since you passed out.”

  “Six hours?” I moved to get up again, until Hawk tensed, his eyes full of warning. I sighed and laid back down. “Those Dregs have Emmy with a six-hour head start. Master, we have to go after her.”

  “We will,” Hawk promised, “but first, answer Doc’s questions. We need to know you’re all right.”

  Another sigh. I focused on Doc.

  He checked my pulse, then shined a bio-light in my eyes. I winced and tore my face away from the blaze.

  “Your eyes are still sensitive to light, I see. It must be the acrinite. Can you see all right? Any blurry vision, dizziness, eye soreness?”

  “No. I can see fine. I’m a little dizzy, but I’m okay.”

  “Good. Six hours ago, you couldn’t see much at all.” He gave me two small tablets and a mug of water to take them with. “Those should eliminate what’s left of the dizziness. Take them again in four hours if it comes back.”

  “Is that normal? Problems with sight, I mean?” I gulped the pills down, the water soothing my parched throat.

 
; “Yes. The active agent in the flashbangs those Dregs used—acrin—causes severe vertigo for up to half a day, but sometimes temporary blindness, nose bleeds, headaches, nausea. Do you have a headache or nausea?”

  I shook my head. “Sheriff. I saw him go down. Is he okay?”

  It bothered me that I was so worried about him. After what had happened between us… But I couldn’t shut off the anxiety that dominated my thoughts.

  “He’ll be fine. I’d have to knock that man out to keep him down for a minute,” Doc said. “He’s out there barking orders and running himself ragged as usual. Been doing that almost since you passed out, even though he could barely stand any better than anyone else for the first few hours.”

  “Figures.”

  “You were the only one who was out for as long as you were.”

  He took my blood-pressure and listened to my heart while he talked.

  “It’s interesting, medically speaking. From most things, you heal faster than anyone else. There was a cut on your arm when we brought you in here. It’s completely gone now, not so much as a scar.” He pointed to a spot on my left arm, below the shoulder.

  I lifted my arm, inspecting it. Of course. I remembered the spike on that chain the Dreg with the mohawk had used to get to Diamond, how it grazed my arm. But there was no cut there now. The skin was smooth and unmarked.

  Not even a scar. A shiver raced up my spine and goose bumps popped up on my arms. It was just another reminder of my freakishness.

  “There’s something else I need to show you,” Doc went on when I looked up at him. “While you were unconscious, I took a sample of your blood.”

  I swallowed. Did I want to know?

  Hawk must have seen the worry on my face, because he returned to his seat on a crate beside me and leaned close, his hand in mine once more.

  I nodded to Doc. He pulled out a vial from the inside of his cut.

  My brows climbed. The liquid in the vial didn’t look like blood at all. It glowed so brightly it seemed to add light to the room, the brightest I’d ever seen it.

  “Maker.” Something close to panic tightened my chest.

  “Is it brighter than the last time you showed us her blood, Doc?” Hawk looked at the vial.

  “It is, and I think I know why. I took several samples while you were out, Setora, and I noticed something strange. The more your condition improved, the less luminescent, and the less blue your blood became. I think the change it undergoes has something to do with your healing powers. I took a vial shortly before you came to, and it hardly changed at all, even after I waited more than fifteen minutes.”

  “How is that possible?” I asked.

  “There must be something in your blood that activates healing properties when you’re injured or sick. The more you need to heal, the more healing agent it produces. What we need to find out is if other Violets experience the same thing.”

  Hawk took the vial from Doc slowly. He frowned, one dark brow raising. For Hawk, that was as good as a dropping jaw. “Interesting.”

  Interesting?

  Yet Hawk’s lack of reaction somehow soothed me. I expected him to back away, to become distant, looking slantways at his strange slave, but he just rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb, looking as concerned and protective as ever. Love for him swelled until my heart threatened to burst.

  “Listen, Setora.” Doc put his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll find you answers. We will.”

  Not trusting myself to speak, I just nodded.

  “Oh, there is one other thing.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “When I examined you after you were brought in, your eyes were purple again. Did you forget to replace the eye drops?”

  My heart sped up. Had the Dregs seen them like that?

  “No. I put them in before I turned in with Steel. He saw me do it.”

  “Hmm. How did…oh shit.” He put his palm to his forehead.

  “What is it?”

  “It must be a reaction to the acrin. It’s the only explanation.”

  I closed my eyes. More reminders.

  “You’ll need to apply more drops. I hope the acrin won’t neutralize the effects again this long after exposure, but just in case, I want you wearing those sunglasses at all times.”

  “Yes, sir. Am I okay then?”

  “Your blood pressure is normal, and so is everything else,” Doc said. “You should be fine in a few more hours, like everyone else, but no one will be fit to travel anytime soon. Everyone’s going to have to take it easy for now, and that includes you. Hawk, keep an eye on her.”

  “Done.” Hawk rested his palm on my forehead. “Just lay still a little while longer. I’ll get you something to eat, but you’re not lifting a finger just yet.”

  He and Doc left the tent, and I closed my eyes, forcing my body to remain still.

  Maker, please, please keep Emmy safe.

  It was a half hour before Hawk or Doc would allow me to leave Sheriff’s tent. After some dry bread with light broth, my morning tea with iris root, and putting in my eyedrops, Hawk found a set of clothes for me, a leather skirt and a cut-off top. I put them on with a pair of Diamond’s boots, which were a little tight, but would do for now. Then I followed Hawk outside.

  The over-bright sun burned like a ball of fire that scorched the sand flats. Wincing, I slipped my sunglasses on, the dark lenses muting the glare.

  I glanced around the camp.

  Everywhere I looked, men worked to clean up the aftermath of the battle, but the signs of a massacre still lingered.

  My eyes widened. No wonder no one had gone after Emmy.

  Before I’d passed out, over the course of the fight, I’d seen the condition of the camp. It had looked like a war zone. Dead Dregs had lain everywhere, the desert sand stained red with blood. Now I saw only two bodies, one lying near the edge of the camp, another a few feet away. For some reason, Steel was kneeling in front of one, stripping the cut off the corpse. Before, bike carcasses had lain strewn about, but now they were disassembled, organized pieces on the desert floor. T-Man moved about, dismantling a motorbike a few feet outside Sheriff’s tent. Diamond was taking down the remains of a burned-out tent with Pretty Boy’s help, tossing what couldn’t be salvaged into a fire. Crash sat on a small boulder by the camp’s fire while Doc unwrapped a blood-stained dressing on his leg.

  “Maker’s Light,” I whispered, feeling a sudden surge of anger. “Where did the Dregs come from? How did they get close enough to attack us?”

  Hawk’s warm palm massaged my nape. “That cliff over there.” He pointed in the direction of a cliff in the distance, four-hundred feet from the western side of the camp. “Pretty Boy and T-Man just looked over the area around this place. They found a tunnel in that cliff. I didn’t see it when I did my scout of the area before we set up. I must be slipping.” His quiet voice had a rough edge.

  “This wasn’t your fault.” I rubbed his arm, the guilt in him tugging at my heart.

  “Tell that to Pup and Latch.” He shook his head. “Anyway, there was another tunnel over there, where I was stationed.” This time he pointed at the overhanging cliff we’d used to ward the camp from the night wind.

  My eyes widened. “Did they shoot at you?”

  “Yes. Saketh’s bolt just missed going through my skull.”

  I looked him over and noticed a tiny cut on his ear. I went up on tip toe and kissed his ear gently.

  He gave me one of those delightful half-smiles I was getting used to. “It’s better now.”

  My face flushed. “Wait. Who’s Saketh?”

  “The leader of those Dregs. The one with the blue mohawk brighter than the blood in that vial.”

  “How do you know…?”

  “One of the men was talking to him during the fight. He said his name.”

  My fingernails dug into my palms. He’d taken Emmy away, his men had killed Latch and Pup, and he’d nearly killed Hawk. I’d never been a violent person, but right then I w
anted to break a few of his bones.

  “Thank the Maker you’re okay.”

  He squeezed my hand, saying nothing, his face dour.

  I pulled the dark sunglasses down on my nose and looked over the camp again, really seeing it for the first time since the attack.

  Some of the men looked worse than others. Steel wiped blood from his nose while he stripped the shirt off the dead Dreg at his feet, T-Man seemed to move about his work as if the bike parts were heavier than usual, Diamond cleared her throat repeatedly, and Pretty Boy kept shaking his head as if to clear a fog.

  As bad as the group looked now, based on Doc’s assessment earlier, I knew they’d been a whole lot worse. He’d been right, no one was fit to travel.

  Where was Sheriff? I glanced about but didn’t see him. Worry for him nibbled at me and I pushed it down. I couldn’t afford to care for him. Not after…

  “I should be helping Diamond pack up. Walk me over there, Master?”

  “Sure.” He hooked his arm in mine, slowing me down after a few steps. “Take it easy, Kitten. I don’t want you passing out on me again.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it when he gave me a stern look.

  He set a ridiculously slow pace across the camp toward Diamond.

  Halfway there, I glanced around to see what Steel was doing. He was still stripping the Dregs, having taken the cut off the second body, but now he was removing the rest of their clothes. Then I glanced at T-Man, who was taking the engine block off the bike he was dismantling.

  “Master, what are Steel and T-Man doing?”

  “If the Dregs come back after we’ve gone, we don’t want them being able to use those bikes. We’re salvaging what we can, taking what we have room for with us for spare parts.”

  “Ah. Right. Pirates. Why is Steel taking the Dregs’s clothes?”

  “When we reach Delta, one of the first things we’ll have to report is what went on here. Salvage is one of the many areas the Dark Legion keeps an eye on. This is proof of the attack on us.”

  “I see.” I’d have to remind myself to ask more about this Delta summit. With everything else going on, now wasn’t the time.