Salvation: Saving Setora Book Seven

by Dark, Raven

  “Setora, please don’t leave…” He shook as if someone were jolting him with electricity. “I can’t… please, just help me…”

  My heart exploded. My mouth hung open on silent, shaking sobs, my body shaking as badly as his. Tears splashed my cheeks, burning them. Tears for him, because I knew what this cost him, because I knew how much he was hurting.

  Because, at long last, he was giving the darkest, the deepest part of himself he had never, ever let anyone see. He was opening up and letting himself take the risk, letting himself be vulnerable in front of me. Letting me in.

  I dropped to my knees in front of him and grabbed his face, and perhaps I pulled him to me, or maybe he pulled me to him, but the next instant, we were clinging to each other for dear life, desperate for the comfort we’d needed for so long.

  “Sheriff…” I held him tighter, smoothing his hair. “Will you let me help you?”

  “Yes,” he rasped in my ear.

  I nodded and rocked him. “I’m not giving up on you, my Master. I’m not. But no more of this. You have to let me in. You have to trust me. Do everything I say. No arguments.”

  He gave a guttural, broken laugh, as if shocked that I’d be so bold with him. “Now you sound like the Liberator.”

  “I’m serious, Sheriff. No more of this dumping all over everyone and being a jackass. If you want help, you have to let us give it.”

  He gave a huge, shaky sigh and tried to bury himself into my neck. Then he nodded slowly.

  “Do you trust me?” I asked softly, tangling my hands into his long hair.

  “Yes. With my life.”

  “Then I’ll be here. It’s going to be long road, you know.” I stroked his back.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “But we’ll go down it together, okay?”

  “That’s going to be hard when I can’t see,” he teased lamely.

  I kissed his cheek. “Then I will be your eyes.”

  He held me tight and his breath hot on my neck. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. You’ll really stay?”

  “I’ll stay,” I told him.

  With a groan, he grabbed my hips and pushed me onto my back to the floor. “Setora, I need you. Please.” His voice was raw and rumbled through me like a storm. He tore at my skirt and made quick work of undoing his pants.

  In seconds, he entered me, hot and hard. Our moans filled the hut like music as old as time. Violently, I pulled at him, unable to get close enough. Likewise, his fingers threaded mine above my head, pressing our hands into the floor so tightly it made my sex clench all the more.

  We were trying to consume the other, with our bodies, our mouths, our souls. And when we finally found our release, it felt like the universe was righted again, that in our joining we made something more than just love, we made a future.

  Where this road ahead of us led or what tomorrow might bring, I couldn’t see any better than he could, but I did know one thing. I felt it in my bones, in my blood. As long as we walked that road and faced that tomorrow together, we would make it.

  For now, that was enough.

  Chapter 22

  Brothers to the End

  A tall, frosted stein of ale dropped in front of me. Zale, the owner of the village’s only saloon The Bell Toll, knew me well. But today, I didn’t want beer or ale. I pushed the cold stein to the side.

  “Well, this is new,” the owner said, his bushy white eyebrows lifting in surprise. “What you wantin’ instead?”

  “The best wine you have, Zale. Been too long since I’ve tasted the grapes of the south.” I leaned forward on my elbows, the lacquered bar top smooth against my skin. It was still early, the lunch crowd wouldn’t be arriving for another hour at most, so the saloon was quiet.

  Ever since the night I told my Brothers I was leaving the club, I’d kept myself busy, doing my best to stay far away from the Dark Legion members, only checking in for orders. For the most part, Hawk let me be. As long as I was accounted for each day, he’d said, I was free to make my own time during the day. And that’s exactly what I did. I was rarely seen from sunup to sundown.

  At night, I kept Princess close to me, losing myself inside her hot body. Lately, I couldn’t get enough of her. Neither one of us spoke about me leaving leaving the Dark Legion after that fucker Julian was found and killed, and I never brought up taking her with me when I left. Instead, as the sun slept, we lived in our own world where no one but us mattered.

  Zale placed a goblet of wine in front of me, and I swirled it around before taking a sip, savoring the dry tartness. It wasn’t the worst wine I’d ever had, but sure as hell wasn’t enough to write home about.

  Home. The Grotto. A place I had no idea if I’d ever see again when all this shit was done. Where I would go, I hadn’t a fucking clue. But I had to leave. No way was I staying with the club. With everything turned on its fucking axis, the Dark Legion was a skeleton crew, in more ways than one. The walking dead. All the failures, the losses, and endings. Well, I was done with it.

  I drank down the last of the wine, craving the taste of real vintage like the wine from Lord Falnar’s cellar. My stomach clenched when I remembered he was long dead and buried. I hadn’t thought of the poor bastard since leaving Delta. Shit, now that was a fucking clusterfuck. Losing Crash. Seeing Damien. Mattais.

  Maybe that’s where I’d go once this shit ended. Make my way up to Delta. Falnar’s son Lord Bain seemed a decent man; surely, he’d have something for me.

  Throwing down a few coins for Zale, I headed out onto the main street that led me toward the huts. I didn’t need to check in with Troy today. The project I’d been working on was finished—all I had to do was pick it up. Besides, the craftsman was already irritated enough from having to see my face every day, demanding he follow all my instructions down to the last specification. With all the coin I was giving him, the fucker should’ve been bowing down to me. I’d probably given him the most money the ass had ever seen in his life.

  “Hey, Pretty Boy. Come here, man. You gotta see this!” Bear called after me as I neared his hut. His hair was sticking up in all directions like a hedgehog’s, as if he’d been pulling at it.

  “What is it?” I jogged over to him, and when he pointed down the path past Hawk’s hut, my jaw dropped.

  There at the end of the path was Sheriff, sitting in a chair with a barber’s cape around him. And standing behind him was Setora. In her hand was a pair of scissors and what I assumed was a comb. I couldn’t make it out this far away, but Maker’s Tits, was she cutting Sheriff’s hair?

  Absently, I walked a few steps to the side and sat my ass down on Bear’s porch with a heavy thud. “Holy. Shit.”

  “My thoughts exactly, man.” Bear’s tone was full of awe.

  I swallowed, my eyes on the verge of watering. I wanted to move closer, to make sure this was really happening, but I couldn’t fucking move. All I could do was stare as Setora, her face determined as she sheared off the long, wild locks of the ex-general’s black hair. It fell to the ground, collecting in a pile next to a small table that held a pitcher and various items I couldn’t quite make out from here.

  “What the fuck are you two doing?” Steel asked, coming out of his hut.

  I turned my gaze away from Setora and Sheriff and looked at my best friend, or the man who the man who used to be. Right now, none of that mattered.

  “Look, Steel.” I turned my attention back to Sheriff with a nod in that direction and waited for Steel’s response.

  “What? Wait. Is that…is…Maker’s Balls.”

  I felt the give in the wood under my ass as Steel plopped down beside me. In silence, we sat there transfixed at the miracle that was taking place. Sheriff. Outside. Letting Setora near him. Letting Setora cut his hair.

  Just then, Hawk and Doc past us by, both in deep conversation, their eyes on their feet, not knowing what was being played out in front of them. Not until…

  “Fuck. Me.” Doc stopped on a gasp and grabbed Hawk’s arm, stoppi
ng the General in mid-step. “Hawk, Sheriff’s outside.”

  I watched my Yantu Brother with a grin on my face. I rarely saw him shocked. He was always infuriatingly one step ahead of situations, never allowing something to take him off guard. Always foreseeing every turn, every scenario, every move. Not this time, and fuck did it not make me want to laugh.

  “How did this happen?” Doc asked, now noticing our presence on Bear’s porch.

  “Savak came by.”

  I recognized Grim’s deep voice behind me somewhere. I didn’t turn around, though, my eyes still riveted on Setora and Sheriff.

  “I was guarding Sheriff’s hut while she cleaned,” Grim explained. “Something happened, but Setora said everything was fine. Next thing I know, I hear yelling, then the sound of fucking, and I after that, I knew better than to listen in. Not too long after that, Sheriff called me inside and told me to bring him a chair and his grooming kit.”

  None of us said a thing for a good few minutes, processing Grim’s words.

  “Huh.” Doc nodded slowly, then looked down at me and Steel. “Brothers, I think Sheriff is back.”

  “About fucking time, man.” I grinned wider.

  “Amen, Brother,” Steel said, gripping me on the nape. Seemed like he, too, had forgotten the deep rift between us.

  My smile dropped as we watched Hawk make his way down the path. “What the fuck’s he doing?”

  Doc shrugged. “I don’t—”

  “Stay away, Master. We’re busy right now,” Setora called without looking up from her work. Her hands were full of fluffy soap lather.

  Behind me, Bear coughed. Doc and Steel let out a laugh, and my smile went back in place, so wide my cheeks hurt. Hawk walked slowly backwards, his hands up, coming to stand by Doc.

  “Well, alright then. I guess she’s in charge,” Hawk said, shoving his hands in his pockets, a slow grin pulling at his mouth.

  “Guess so.” I laughed.

  * * *

  Several hours later, I was sitting in Sheriff’s hut. Hawk stood by the back window of the living room, his hands in his pockets, face unreadable. Steel was sitting across from me, a few feet away from Sheriff.

  My eyes traced over the ex-general. Sheriff’s hair was shortly cropped against his scalp, just like he normally wore it. The scruffy wolf-like beard on his face was gone, leaving him gaunt and almost unrecognizable. The most alarming thing about him now was his sharp cheek bones that almost cast shadows against his sunken cheeks. Other than that, he looked better, which wasn’t saying much. He had a long way to go before he looked like the old general I was used to seeing.

  “I asked you three here so that I could apologize.” Sheriff’s deep voice was softened by an emotion I couldn’t put my finger on. In the twenty-five years since I’ve known Sheriff, I’d never seen him express guilt or shame, so maybe that was at play here.

  Fuck, this was going to be one of those conversations. I looked around at the others and could have sworn they were thinking the same thing. We all remained silent, though, letting Sheriff—the real Sheriff—have his say. He deserved it, after all, from all the shit he’d been through since leaving Hell’s Burning.

  “I’ve been a shit of the worst order.” He shook his head, his sightless eyes closing briefly. “Setora’s told me everything. I know I can’t undo the shit I’ve said or did,” he paused, swallowing, “but I’m going to accept my fate like a fucking man and be better.”

  I let out a deep breath, my head down. Aside from having Sheriff see again, this was more than I could have asked for. Sheriff, rising from the dead of his own making. Rising up and facing shit, trying to live again. As long as he tried, that’s all I’d ask.

  Maker, fucking finally, something was going right for once.

  “I will never be able to see again. I am… accepting that a little bit each day. I’m in no way fucking happy about it, sure as hell won’t get used to it, not for a long-ass time. But I’m going to try. For this club. For the Four. For Setora.” He leaned forward, elbows on knees like I’ve seen him do a thousand times. “And for me.”

  I looked over at Hawk. His arms were crossed, facing the window at whatever the fuck was out there. What he was thinking, I’d pay to know. I was man enough to admit I cared about the fucker. I’d always love my Brother. Shit was complicated. That was life. But we had a long road ahead of us if we were going to pull this club back out of the shitter.

  “Thank the fucking Maker, Sheriff.” Steel sat up in his chair. “You had us scared, man. We almost lost you, not to Damien or Julian’s ass, but yourself. You promise you ain’t gonna go back down into some hole again? You’re going try this training Savak and Master Leif’s offering?”

  “Yeah. I’m going do it. Whatever they can do, I’m taking the help.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help you?” Hawk asked, speaking for the first time. Always pragmatic, that one.

  “Yes, actually. There is. You’re going to keep leading the Dark Legion. Keep doing what you’re doing. And Pretty Boy, you’re staying put. The Dark Legion needs you. You belong here, with us. With Setora.”

  He put out a hand to stop me from interrupting, probably thinking I was going to chime in, but I wasn’t. Instead, I just sat back and listened as he continued.

  “I know what happened about Steel and the Dragon’s Bane. Both of your hearts were in the right place, so I can’t be too mad, but your heads, on the other hand… as usual, both of you are trouble.” He laughed, the first real laugh I’ve heard from him since Mayhem’s. The sound froze me in place like a spell was cast. Sheriff really was back.

  “We’ve been through this already, man. We know we fucked up, okay?” Steel butted in. “We took our punishment, and we’ve moved on. Besides, I’m done with causing trouble. I want to do right by the club now. I’m cleaning my shit up. We can’t afford anymore…shenanikins or whatever the fuck word Hawk uses. Not with Setora in danger.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard. She told me, Steel.” Sheriff cleared his throat. “And I admire that you’re straightening up, proud too. Just make sure when you’re ‘cleaning your shit up’ you don’t lose sight of more important things, all right?”

  Steel nodded, a look of confusion crossing his face before he smiled. “Yeah, man. Damn, it’s good to hear you talking in your right mind again, you old bastard.”

  It was good, but the tension in the air was thick with too many things left unsaid. Things even Sheriff’s resurrection couldn’t heal.

  “Pretty Boy, you’re awfully quiet. Or is he gone?” Sheriff asked, turning his head toward where Hawk stood.

  “No, I’m still here, Sheriff. I’m listening.”

  Head now turned to me, Sheriff frowned. “You’re still going to leave, aren’t you?”

  My hands gripped my knees, keeping me in my chair. The desire to stand up and pace was too great. “I am. As soon as that Violet fuck is six-feet under.”

  Sheriff nodded. “And nothing can change your mind?”

  “Nope, don’t think so.”

  “Any idea where you’re going go? Any plans?” Hawk asked softly.

  “Thinking about Delta. See if Falnar’s son has anything for me.”

  Hawk pulled away from the windowsill. “Sounds like a good plan, I think.”

  “And Setora said you asked her to go.” Sheriff’s voice wavered a bit.

  I swallowed. The thought of living without my Princess tore at me. But I loved her enough to want her to choose what she wanted to do with her life. Whether it was spent at my side or not. “I did.”

  Sheriff sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. “And not a one of you tried to talk Pretty Boy out of this, did you?”

  Hawk and Steel stayed silent.

  “And what about the bond we made, Brothers?” Sheriff asked, sounding weary for the first time today, like the three of us had exhausted him. Hell, we probably did.

  The bond.

  My mind immediately conjured up four boys kneeling in the bushe
s of Mount Dire in the dead of night, our only light the moon shining down on us. I could still see the blood on Hawk and Sheriff’s faces, black and wet. The whites of Steel’s eyes as they widened in fear of getting caught. The shake of my hands from the adrenaline of having killed a man for the first time.

  Yeah, the bond.

  “Don’t,” I whispered.

  “Don’t what, Pretty Boy? Don’t remind you?” Sheriff asked, his voice gaining strength. “Don’t talk about what it was that made us the Four? Don’t bring up the time when three of us took on our brother’s enemy and destroyed him?”

  “No, fucking dammit! Don’t make me want to feel,” I shouted, standing up. I clenched my fists tightly. “Don’t bring up the night we killed Hawk’s fucking asshole father now. Why should I have to be the one to fix this? Hawk fucking thinks he’s better than me, pretty much wants me out, and Steel thinks being in the same room as me will infect him, force him to… fuck, I don’t know, go out and become cannibals or some shit. So why aren’t you asking them, Sheriff? It’s not always. My. Fucking. Fault!”

  My words echoed through out the room, hurting my ears with its lack of sound in the silent room. I pulled out the leather band in my hair and tossed it to the floor, clenching my hair roughly against my scalp. I wanted to scream. I wanted to…

  “He’s right. It’s not. It’s mine.” Hawk’s whispered words stabbed me from across the room.

  “Nah, PB. It’s mine. I don’t know what happened, I…” Steel added.

  “Just shut up. Shut. Up. Please,” I begged. With my eyes tightly closed, I felt like I was falling into some vortex of hell.

  “We’re Brothers. Forever,” Sheriff said softly, “no matter what. We made a promise to each other back then. No matter who hurts, no matter who our enemies are, no matter what battle we have to face, we’re Brothers to the end. You get me?” Sheriff asked, his voice raw with emotion.

  Before I knew it, I was being pulled into a tight embrace by Hawk.