Salvation: Saving Setora Book Seven

by Dark, Raven

  “Will it hurt you?” I asked softly.

  After seeing the damage I’d done when Julian had taken over, I wasn’t eager to see what I might do to her if he managed to take over me during these exercises, or if Ali’san somehow managed to make me tap into him.

  “It might. But it’s a risk I am willing to take in order to stop him. I will not take you through an exercise you are not ready for. You have the power to control what happens, Setora. Trust me. Trust yourself.”

  I sighed. We had to find Julian. Before he did any more damage. This was the only way to move forward.

  “Close your eyes, Liberator.”

  I did.

  “We will begin with the same meditation you have been doing with me, and with Hawk. The Don Shi. Let your muscles relax. Breathe evenly, in and out. Let your mind become aware of where every part of your body is. Feel your breath.”

  Letting her soothing voice wash over me, I did as she said, letting my muscles relax. Controlling my breathing, letting it flow through every part of my body until there was only the two of us. Only my breathing and her voice and the sense of peace that had long since become second nature to me after weeks of doing this with Hawk.

  “Relax even more. Breathe slowly. There is only peace. Feel your heartbeat becoming calmer, beating in time with the universe.”

  My heart rate slowed, a rhythmic, peaceful beat in my ears. I did feel connected to the world around me, as if my heart was beating slowly in time with the world itself.

  “Good. Stay inside the Don Shi. We will begin with a simple exercise. I will fill my mind with an image of a single item, and you will tell me what it is. When you open your eyes, if you are correct, you will see that item before me.”

  I jolted at the implications. “You want me to read your thoughts?” My voice shook.

  “Yes. Shut down your doubts and fears, Setora. My mind is no stronger than yours. Believe that you can do this, and you will.”

  I sighed. She made it sound so simple, like waving a magic wand and making something appear. I knew I had these kinds of abilities, but I had never, ever consciously tried to use them. And not on a Violet as powerful as her.

  Ali’san must have felt my hesitation, because she said, “Clear your mind. Focus on mine. Can you feel my mind inside yours?”

  I shook my head. “No. There’s nothing.”

  “Reach out, Setora. Feel your thoughts reach out to me. Imagine that my thoughts are there, in your mind.”

  I pressed my lips together, shutting down the urge to tell her that what she asked seemed impossible. Turning my mind inward, I imagined my thoughts as a hand reaching out toward her mind.

  Again, there was nothing.

  At first.

  Then, a light flickered in the blackness that was my thoughts, and I saw her sitting just as she was in reality, in front of me on her mat, dressed in her red warrior’s garb with her violet braid over her shoulder. I saw her peaceful, tranquil features. They filled my mind, and then I felt my thoughts going beyond them.

  A single image flashed through my mind, for an instant clear as day. Except the image was so fleeting that, before my thoughts could register it, it was gone, and the black void returned.

  “Maker! I had it!” I opened my eyes, excitement filling me.

  “Keep your eyes closed.”

  I snapped them shut before I caught more than a glimpse of her face. “I almost had it. I saw it in my mind for a second, and then it was gone!”

  For the first time, I’d controlled my own power. Not Julian, and not out of some powerful instinct to save someone or because someone was in trouble.

  “What did you see?” Ali’san asked.

  “I don’t know. The image didn’t last long enough.”

  “Try again.”

  I went through the same calming ritual again, shutting out the world until there was only the two of us, until my heart beat in time with the world around me.

  Once more, I let my mind reach out toward her. Saw beyond the physical of her being and into her thoughts. Ali’san sat there before me in the middle of the black void. Once again, she was holding something, but the image was gone before it fully formed in my mind’s eye.

  I let out a frustrated sound. “It disappeared again. I couldn’t quite see it.”

  “Try again.”

  I tried again. It went on like this for what felt like an hour but was probably only several minutes. The image always appeared and then vanished before I could see what it was.

  On what must have been the tenth try, a headache had begun to form behind my eyes, but I pushed past it and visualized her thoughts.

  This time, when I saw her in my mind, the image of Ali’san and what she was holding leaped out at me. It flashed across my mind, sharp and vivid.

  Her sword was laying across her hands.

  I jolted again, thrilled. “I see it!” I grinned. “I can see it!” I’d somehow managed to control my own power enough to see what she was holding with only my mind. Hope sprang up in me.

  “What am I holding, Setora?”

  “Your sword. It’s your sword.”

  “Open your eyes.”

  I obeyed, but when I saw her, she wasn’t holding her sword. The blade was still in its scabbard, leaning against a wall where she had set it when she’d come into the hut. Ali’san had taken one of Bear’s boots that had been sitting on the floor near her and set it in front of her, one hand resting on the top of it.

  “A boot?” My shoulders dropped, the happy bubble of hope that we might stand a chance against Julian popping like a burst balloon. “I don’t understand.”

  Ali’san set the boot aside calmly. She didn’t look at all discouraged.

  “I don’t understand this. I saw you holding your sword.”

  “This exercise is not easy, Liberator. I would have been surprised if you had gotten it on the first try.”

  “But why did I see the sword?”

  “Your mind simply projected what you thought I was most likely to be holding. You’ve seen me hold my sword out to you before, and your mind conjured up that image.”

  I flopped onto my back. “Some savior I’ll make. I can’t even see one simple image in your head. Julian’s going to shred my mind to ribbons the first time I try to find him.”

  “You can’t give up that easily, Setora.” Her voice had a steely determination in it now. “Sit up.”

  I did but shook my head. “The image looked so real.”

  “The mind is a tricky thing, a complex and inherently weak organ that must be trained like muscle. It requires great focus that is only developed with that training. You must learn to shut down your conscious mind. Put aside your preconceived notions of me, of what you’re trying to see, and see only what is there. Don’t fill in the blank with what you think you should see. Don’t take the easy path, and don’t guess. See me, with your mind as a tool.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to shut down the gnawing fear of failure that made easy work of my insides. The fear that if I failed, if my mind was too weak, lives would be lost. That if I failed, my Four, those I cared about and so many more, would die.

  Once more, I let Ali’san guide me into the Don Shi until there was only the two of us. My breathing became slow and even. My heart beat in time with the world’s energy.

  As the tranquility of nothingness surrounded me, voices drifted in, distant at first, then growing louder. Pretty Boy shouted something, angry. I thought I heard Hawk’s growled voice in response. I couldn’t make out what either said, but anger dripped from every syllable.

  The last time I’d heard the two of them sound that ticked off, they’d come to blows. Steel had been sick, and Pretty Boy had almost killed Hawk…

  My eyes snapped open. “Ali’san, wait…”

  She had stood up and gone to the window. “What is all that racket your men are making?”

  I pushed to my feet and joined her at the window while Pretty Boy and Hawk continued to argue indi
stinctively. The voices were coming from the direction of Sheriff’s hut.

  About thirty feet down the path, I saw Hawk stalk away from Pretty Boy.

  “We’re not doing this now, Pretty Boy. Back off.”

  Pretty Boy stomped after him. “The hell we’re not, Hawk. You’re not walking away this time.”

  “Watch me,” Hawk snapped.

  “No way. You need your little Yantu ass whipped.”

  Yantu ass? Wow. How many of the Yantu and their guests had heard that?

  I slapped the windowsill with my palms. “Not again.” I hurried for the door to Bear’s hut with Ali’san hard on my heels.

  In the back of my mind, the thought flickered that I should let this fight ride itself out. It wasn’t my place to interfere. Except there were added layers to this situation that hadn’t existed last time.

  For one thing, Sheriff’s blindness and his insistence on shutting out the rest of his club was causing enough issues among the men, fraying already worn nerves. And for another, not only was violence strictly forbidden here in the village, punishable with a banishing, but the Yantu already saw us as barbaric pirate savages prone to violence. A fight would prove all their preconceived notions about an MC.

  Behind me, I heard the soft whine of Ali’san’s sword being sheathed. She’s put the weapon on. I didn’t blame her. Two incredibly ticked off bikers about to pound it out in the middle of the street would have had me reaching for a weapon too, if they weren’t my masters and I was a warrior.

  I stepped out of the hut, hoping that the fight I could see coming wouldn’t happen. Words would be slung, insults, but then the two of them would stomp off, deciding to unleash their frustrations another way.

  No such luck.

  Hawk and Pretty Boy were less than twenty feet away from the hut when Pretty Boy grabbed Hawk’s shoulder and spun him around. They were close enough that I could see Hawk holding something in his hand, but he slipped it into his cut before I could see what it was.

  “How could you do that to him?” Pretty Boy shouted. “How could you take advantage of him like that?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Pretty Boy, don’t twist this into something it’s not. I never wanted this. Never.”

  “Enough talk.” Pretty Boy slammed his fist right into Hawk’s face—or he tried.

  Hawk grabbed his fist in his hand in mid-swing and flung it aside. “Go back to your tavern, Pretty Boy,” Hawk growled tiredly. “Have another drink.”

  My mouth dropped. Hawk, the master of peace and stoicism, usually didn’t bother with sarcasm. I caught sight of his expression; it almost looked mean.

  Maker.

  Worse, several dozen people had come out of their huts to gawk at the two of them. In the words of Cherry, shit.

  While Pretty Boy tried to hit Hawk again, I started toward the path at a half run. I didn’t get far.

  Oran was suddenly in front of me, his big hand out, stopping me. “Setora, no. Go back inside. Stay out of this.”

  I looked past him at my two masters.

  “You had no choice?”” Pretty Boy’s voice was acid. “Yeah, right. He’s blind, not dead. Give it back to him, and this doesn’t need to go any further.” Pretty Boy crossed his arms.

  Hawk turned away from him and marched on. “You know I can’t. You saw what he did. He would have kept going, violating every MC law until I took it.”

  Pretty Boy got in his face. He reached for whatever it was inside Hawk’s cut, and Hawk pushed him away.

  “Get out of my way,” Hawk ordered slowly.

  “Not a chance in hell.” Pretty Boy swung at Hawk’s jaw. Hawk weaved out of the way. Next thing I knew, the two of them were rolling in the dirt, Pretty Boy trying to land blow after blow.

  “You think you could ever be Sheriff, Hawk? You think you could be what this club needs? You and your Yantu ideals. Are you even one of us, Hawk? Are you?” He tried to punch Hawk in the chest.

  Hawk rolled backward and swung his legs up, kicking him off.

  I grabbed Oran by his cut, not even thinking about it. “Oran, they’re going to kill each other! They’ll get us thrown out of here—”

  Oran started to guide Ali’san and me back toward the hut, but he didn’t have to.

  “Setora, go back inside.” Doc. When had he gotten here? He was standing in front of Oran now, his hand on my shoulder, his other one held out toward Ali’san.

  I deflated, unable to help feeling calmer with him there, less as if the world was about to crumble around me.

  “Both of you, inside. Trust me,” he added. “It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”

  “People are staring, Doc, we—”

  “I know, Setora. I got this.” His voice was reassuring. His eyes flicked toward the people watching from a nearby hut, a couple of farmers, both men, who were watching me with intense looks. “Go.”

  Pretty Boy and Hawk were still rolling around on the ground, growling and yelling at each other. I wanted to split them up, do or say anything I had to in order to heal the rift I saw tearing through this club, through the Legion that had somehow become my family, but Doc was right, I couldn’t. I turned and nodded toward the hut, guiding Ali’san toward the door. She looked on the verge of drawing her sword, but something in my face, or maybe in Doc’s, must have been enough for her, because she turned and walked back inside with me, grumbling something about men always using their fists to solve everything.

  By the time I’d reached the door and turned around to look back, Doc had made his way toward the two of them.

  “Both of you, stop this!” he roared.

  Hawk blocked Pretty Boy’s punch and threw one of his own, catching Pretty Boy in the jaw. The blow glanced aside, otherwise Pretty Boy would have been eating through a straw for weeks.

  Doc got between them and shoved them both apart hard. “Enough, I said!” he thundered. “I don’t know what this is all about, but this is not the time or the place.”

  “I’ll tell you what it’s about,” Pretty Boy shouted. “Hawk seems to have forgotten Sheriff isn’t dead and he’s still in charge.”

  Pretty Boy tried to go for Hawk again, but Doc pushed him back, blocking him with his body. Until he no longer had to, because Steel had stomped out from somewhere and gone up behind Pretty Boy, grabbing him around the shoulders from behind. He held Pretty Boy easily, pinning him against him in a hold around the neck.

  “I told you, this is what he wanted—” Hawk started.

  “You didn’t have to listen to him. You know he’s hurting—”

  “I said that’s enough!” Doc bellowed. “I don’t want to hear it. I have enough to deal with having Sheriff with his head up his ass without you two ending up in my infirmary with shattered limbs because of your pissing contest. This is neither the time, nor the place.”

  Oran led Ali’san and me into the hut and I shook myself. I hadn’t even realized I was still standing there watching them.

  “Both of you get back to your huts. I’ll be in to patch you up later. Go. Now.”

  Oran shut the door, but not before I saw Hawk bend down as if to pick up something. Beyond the closed door, boots scuffed and stomped across dirt, Pretty Boy and Hawk tromping off, by the sound of it in separate directions.

  “It’s under control,” Doc called out in a falsely pleasant tone, obviously speaking to the lingering villagers. “Nothing to see here, people. Go back to your business.”

  I heard him walking toward this hut and muttering something about having to play babysitter.

  I didn’t know what the fight was about either, but I didn’t need to know the finer points to see the larger issue here. Small cracks that had been deepening for weeks had become fractures that spread across the iron-clad bonds that held the MC together. Fractures that, with the slightest hint of force, would cause the Legion to shatter.

  Everything in me screamed to go to my men, to find some way to heal the ever-growing rift between them that had now torn itself even
wider, but what could I do that wouldn’t make things worse? What could I do that wouldn’t make them feel like I was taking sides?

  Maker, I missed Cherry. She would have known what to do.

  Feeling as if I were losing something that had become a part of me over these past few months, I closed my eyes and leaned on the door, resting my forehead on it.

  Ali’san said something, her stunned voice penetrating my spinning thoughts. I turned to her. “What?”

  “Are they always this…brutish?” She was sitting on her mat, legs crossed. Her sword leaned against the wall near her once more.

  “No.” I pushed my hand through my hair. “They’re not. Not with each other.”

  “But it’s happened before?”

  For some reason, her face was pale. Why? She wasn’t afraid of my men. What had she seen when they’d been fighting?

  I dropped my shoulders. “Once. When Steel was sick. They’re just hurting. Fighting is how they settle matters. They’ll be fine.”

  Except, would they? If Sheriff didn’t get his sight back…

  That must have been what had set Pretty Boy off. He was just worried about Sheriff, just as he had been with Steel. Only, there was more to it this time. I could feel it in my bones. And I had a weird feeling Ali’san could see it too. She could see it the way she saw me and Sheriff coming to the temple before we’d ever arrived.

  I shivered.

  There was a knock on the door. I swallowed, wondering if it was the village magistrate come to tell us to leave. Ordering us out of the village before me or Sheriff could ever hope to get whatever help we needed.

  The Yantu wouldn’t help Sheriff, but I couldn’t help holding out the hope that we could somehow change their minds. We couldn’t if we were banned from here.

  Oran opened the door, and Doc stepped in. Relief flooded me.

  “Doc. Are Pretty Boy and Hawk okay?” I asked.

  “Oh, they’re fine, Setora.” He squeezed my shoulder. “A few bruises and cuts between them, but no one broke anything, fortunately.”

  “Where’s Steel?”

  “Giving Pretty Boy a hell of an earful, believe it or not.”