Illegal King

by Mason Dakota

  Three of the mobsters raised their guns to kill me. The fourth aimed at Evelyn as she stabbed the fifth. Ignoring my own three gunmen, I lunged forward and threw the second small knife hidden up my sleeve at the fourth gunman.

  Throwing knives doesn’t work the way you see in movies. They don’t sink to the hilt and instantly kill anyone. In fact they are practically ineffective unless you get really lucky or have unbelievable strength. They can blind if you strike the eyes, and they do hurt. Mostly they are best to distract or to halt some kind of attack. Take for instance how my knife struck a mobster’s hand.

  He yelped in pain and lost his aim as he fired. Bullets sprayed the walls and the ceiling. They hit the window, shattering it to create another door sized hole. A strong breeze sucked itself into the room and tossed papers everywhere.

  The other three gunmen fired upon me. I scooped up Evelyn’s chair first and held it on my right side as I moved. Bullets struck the chair, and left my hands and ears ringing with the blows.

  I kept running as the mobsters fired. They sprayed the ground all around me and knocked out all of the windows. Even though my lungs begged for rest I never stopped sprinting across the office.

  My hand shot out to grab Evelyn, and I shoved her, and by extension her dying victim, to the ground out of the gun mens’ line of sight. At the same time I dove over Evelyn and onto her victim, putting myself between Evelyn and the gunmen. As we hit the floor, my hands flashed to his side and I took his side arm from his hip.

  The mobster’s body collapsed with a quaking thud. I rolled off him immediately and stood with the pistol in one hand and dented metal chair in my other as a shield. Evelyn jumped up, holding the dead mobster’s submachine gun. The room erupted with gunfire. I rushed to the right, firing and hiding behind my chair that ripped under a barrage of gunfire. Evelyn went left, tearing furniture apart with a hail of bullets.

  “ENOUGH!” shouted Alexandra.

  I snapped my head in her direction and froze. Everyone did the same, thus the power and the influence of Lady Alexandra Carline. I stood there frozen with my gun still carefully aimed, as did Evelyn at her target. None of the mobsters fired, but their fingers rested on triggers, too. They awaited Alexandra’s order to gun us down.

  My eyes stayed locked on my target. I breathed heavily and struggled to stand up straight under the pain. Adrenaline kept me upright and accomplishing more than I should have ever been able to do. But as it faded I calmed down, the pain increased. I was dying and another wave of dizziness and nausea hurried my defeat.

  Then Alexandra clapped. One by one every eye turned toward her. Smiling wickedly, she giggled like a child. She was a crazy woman.

  “Now I know, you really are Shaman. Quite the excitement here tonight,” she said. I was shocked by her behavior. She had no remorse for the dead man in her office. She was a complete psychopath. In anger, I pointed my gun at her. Every weapon in the room, except for Evelyn’s, turned on me. I didn’t care. I lost myself in the fury of someone else’s heartlessness.

  “You’re a monster,” I said coldly.

  She shrugged and said, “I am what I am to survive. We can’t change who we are.”

  “So not hugged enough as a child? Got it. Glad to solve that mystery,” I said. She smirked and shrugged. “Evelyn walks out of here. That’s the deal,” I growled.

  “Griffon, no! I’m not leaving you with her,” said Evelyn. She had managed to rip off her gag.

  “Unfortunately, Miss Chambers, you’re wrong. Griffon has made a deal and I—” She never got to finish her sentence.

  Across the street, high upon the neighboring building’s rooftop, I saw Rigs. He was a bear of a man, and upon his shoulders rested a missile tube. Like a tiny bottle rocket, the missile he fired spiraled through the air in a flash.

  It struck the floor beneath us and the world erupted in fire.

  What perfect timing.

  Seventy

  The floor bulged and cracked with fire springing forth like plant stems erupting from the earth. Flames wrapped the room in a combustion of burning stone and masonry.

  Alexandra’s big oak desk snapped into flying pieces of flaming wood. The office door flung off its hinges and exploded in shards.

  Skeleton finger cracks stretched up the walls. The ceiling shattered like glass and rained down upon us like a thunderstorm of wind and fire.

  The room shook and shattered. I felt myself lift high off the ground, or maybe the floor vanished beneath me. I hit something…hard…and repeatedly, but all I saw was fire in vast darkness. Gravity realigned and I fell, twisting and turning as I plummeted through shadows and stones. The floor broke and crumbled and I crash landed. My arm painfully cracked as I hit something solid. A meteor storm of masonry showered my body. Fire swept around me.

  I lay there struggling to breathe. Something sharp pierced my side. My right arm was broken…something felt wrong. I bled more and grew dizzier by the second.

  Then Alexandra stumbled into my sight. She helped me onto my feet.

  Well, help is a strong word when you consider the fury burning in her eyes and the gun shaking in her hands. “You did this!” she accused. Her body shivered as if she were cold. She held her right side with her left hand, keeping pressure on a wound.

  I opened my mouth to defend myself even though I knew she wouldn’t believe me. I couldn’t even find the words to say something snarky.

  I’m failing at my one talent!

  She gritted her teeth and raised her gun at me. “No more games! No more tricks!”

  Then Rigs shot another missile into the building and another round of explosions went off.

  Fate is cruel.

  Once again fire and stone wrapped me like an inescapable shadow. The blast lifted me straight off the ground. Rubble and fire pelted my body. I spiraled through the air. I lost my senses and didn’t know if I moved up or down in the madness. I went from blind to sight to blind to sight again in a sick cycle of never-ending chaos.

  I couldn’t distinguish one area of pain for another. I only knew I wasn’t falling anymore because the world stopped spinning. My lungs felt full of sharp nails. My nose was filled with ash and dust. I lay there feeling darkness seep across my vision. My hearing recovered last, and even then it sounded like being underwater. Death slowly consumed me. I welcomed it like a long lost friend.

  “Griffon! Griffon!” The voice was distant—so distant that I couldn’t even tell if it was male or female.

  Suddenly Evelyn’s face appeared over mine in the sliver of vision I still possessed. Her face was blurry and swam around in a dizzy circle. Tears fell from her eyes and she bled from her forehead and lip. Her hands gently stroked my cheek as she whispered my name over and over pleading me to stay in this life. With trembling and bleeding hands I reached up and brushed back a single strand of her hair. The darkness was growing more and more. I didn’t have much time left before it swallowed me. So I chose my words very carefully.

  “Hey, how’s your day going?” I whispered.

  She giggled through her tears and said, “You’re insane. You know that?”

  “I was going for fantastic…or amazing.” She laughed. I forgot how easy it was to make her laugh.

  Her soft, warm hands rested against my cheek. Tears carved paths through dust and grime on her face. A ray of sunshine burst free on her face and she did the unthinkable. She leaned down and kissed me. She knew the risks of what I carried and how it might transfer to her. But she didn’t care and neither did I.

  I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her closer. My world spun with fireworks shot from a cannon. I heard singing in my ears. My heart switched repeatedly from flutters to frozen in rapid sensations. My lungs struggled and screamed for air as I sought life from Evelyn’s lips.

  My eyes were shut tight but I saw the moment. I felt her tears mix with my own. I felt freedom and joy and happiness and wanted more of it. A tingling sensation rushed from my finger tips to my elbows and up
my neck. My head throbbed from lack of breath. Pain in my body filled the gaps like stones in my joints and yet I willed those moments of bliss to pass as slowly as God would allow.

  And when it was over, when I felt those soft and luxurious lips depart, I lost the light. I drifted away on the current of ecstasy into the obscure abode.

  What a beautiful way to die.

  And then the darkness swallowed me.

  Seventy-One

  Ziavir called it a miracle that they made it to Alexandra’s safe-house. She wouldn’t call it a safe-house, but then again she didn’t think like Ziavir.

  She was an innocent executive assistant, a young and ambitious business woman. He prayed she never fell into the sinister world in which he swam, but he feared tonight was the first push into his world.

  People did not lightly accept military occupation and a coup. They fought back against the small group of armed invaders who looked for Ziavir and anyone loyal to the former Emperor. Innocents suffered heavy losses against the strength of the Imperial soldiers. If this didn’t end soon, the entire city would cave. The soldiers would not leave until they found Ziavir, and the longer he hid the more the foolish would resist and die.

  Every minute Ziavir stayed hidden the worse it got for the citizens of Chicago and the more it put Alexandra and Angelia in danger. He knew what he had to do, but he wasn’t quite sure he had the strength to do it.

  Alexandra came out of the bedroom and entered the bleak living room where Ziavir peeked out the blinds at the street outside. He tightly gripped his small blaster pistol.

  “She’s taking a shower in the other room. She seems pretty shaken up,” said Alexandra, referring to Angelia.

  “Is this place secure?” Ziavir asked. He didn’t look at Alexandra as he asked, and he was sure she didn’t look away from the blaster pistol in his hand. He sensed her fears, despite how well she hid them. If he hadn’t been so terrified himself, he would have tried harder to comfort her.

  “If by ‘secure’ you mean we are safe? I guess as safe as we can be. Nobody will stop here tonight. This is my boss’s house, and he’s out of town for the week.”

  “You have a key to your boss’s house?” It was the first time Ziavir looked away from the window.

  Alexandra rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. “It’s not what you think.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  “Because you’re a man. Relax. He keeps some files here, so when he is out of town he gives me a key just in case I need access to the files.”

  “Sounds like a dishonest individual.”

  “You aren’t wrong. His business isn’t exactly…legal in every regard.”

  “So you work for a crook?”

  “Is this really the time to talk about my business ethics…or your trust in me?”

  Ziavir cringed. Alexandra was right, this wasn’t the time. Stress and fear made it easy to take cheap shots at each other, a common mistake in such moments. Ziavir bit back a rude remark and peeked through the blinds for oncoming threats.

  “What do they want?” whispered Alexandra.

  “Me. Maybe Angelia.”

  “Why? What did you do? What makes a slave so special?”

  Apparently she is crucial to our future, Ziavir thought to himself.

  “You saw the news report. General Adam Rythe has taken over the throne. He’s hunting down those loyal to Emperor Brenton’s regime.”

  “And you were close to the Emperor.”

  “Everyone knew he trusted me. I was instrumental as his liaison for the Northern Territories Treaty. If it weren’t for me, we would never have been able to establish peace between our nations. My loyalty to Bretton makes me a threat to Adam.”

  “So, what’s happening out there is because of you?”

  Ziavir nodded.

  “And the woman you brought with you?”

  “My last mission.” The tone in his voice made it clear that Alexandra was not permitted to know any more. Ziavir hated it, but it was the best way to keep Alexandra safe. Nothing else mattered more to him.

  “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” asked Alexandra. She was intuitive enough to see the signs.

  Ziavir sighed and dropped his head. He stepped away from the blinds and holstered the blaster pistol. “I need you to find Angelia a safe home, where she can disappear. New name, new home, new everything. Then I need you to forget about her.”

  Alexandra looked behind her shoulder at the bathroom door. The shower just turned off in the other room. Ziavir could tell Alexandra wanted to ask more. She would have pushed anyone else for more information, but her trust in Ziavir stopped her from further questioning.

  “I think I can do that,” she said. She looked Ziavir in the eyes and asked the question he feared to answer the most. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

  Her question was a stab to Ziavir’s heart. He choked on his words. What was he to say? She was ignorant of what was happening, but she was smart enough to read between the lines.

  The ring in his pocket burned his skin.

  “What would you have me do? If I stay here to be with you, you will be in danger, and Adam won’t stop hunting us. People will die until he gets what he wants.”

  “But if you are caught he will kill you.”

  Ziavir nodded. They had two choices. They could stay together and run for the rest of their lives, knowing other innocent people would suffer. They would never be safe…but they would be together. Or he could surrender himself and pray for Adam’s mercy. Alexandra and Angelia would be safe if he did.

  And Angelia would be safe to raise her child.

  He was caught between choosing the woman he loved…

  …and the strange mission Bretton gave him.

  “What would you have me do?” he whispered, and he found he really meant it and wanted her to decide their future.

  Alexandra was silent. She bit the corner of her lip. Ziavir wondered if she knew she did that when she felt indecisive. He loved that look of vulnerability, but it certainly wasn’t the look he wanted to see on her face tonight. He squeezed the ring in his pocket. It was a large diamond, a year’s fortune for him, with rich gold and shine that would light up her face.

  He questioned if he should still ask her the most important question of his life—if nothing more than to share the knowledge that, despite what the future held, they could have the sweet knowledge of their shared love. He licked his lips and struggled to breathe as he built up his courage. She would tell him to go instead of staying, he knew, and he would surprise her with popping the question she hoped he would ask and choosing to stay. Doing it then would be right and joyous and—

  “I think you should stay with me,” said Alexandra to Ziavir’s surprise.

  It was what he wanted to hear.

  And yet it wasn’t what he expected.

  He smiled, but barely meant it. His throat choked as he nodded. She would sacrifice the world to be with him. And he would sacrifice more to save it for her. He let go of the ring in his pocket, stepped forward, and kissed Alexandra.

  It was the first time kissing her felt wrong.

  Seventy-Two

  I awoke on the softest bed I had ever felt. It wasn’t that it was expensive or some special quality. It was…warm…the kind of warmth that resonates deep within you and tells you that you are in a blessed place.

  It was the first comfort I had experienced in days. I first saw the white popcorn ceiling. The walls were a deep maroon and candles lit the room with the scent of fresh flowers. This was a home.

  I stirred and moaned like a child as the pain awakened across my body. I was tired of waking up to pain. I was tired of feeling pain in general.

  So I really am alive and this isn’t heaven…

  …and Rigs blew me up. Twice!

  “He’s awake!” shouted someone outside my vision. The voice belonged to a woman. Suddenly Alison’s smiling face appeared above me. “Just relax, Griffon.
You’ve suffered a number of injuries. We are going to take care of you. Now, I need you to lie still while I continue to take care of these wounds. Michael, get me the first aid kit! Chamberlain, start boiling some water and get me some moist towels to clean him up.”

  She drew a pair of scissors and I felt more than saw her cutting away at my clothes. I really liked those clothes.

  “H-how…?” I whispered.

  “How did you get here?” asked another female voice. I turned my head and saw Evelyn coming across the bedroom to my side. She looked like an angel. It made the pain worth it. “I got you out of there and brought you here.”

  “They burned down the hideout. We got out in time,” said Alison, answering my next question.

  Suddenly the door to the bedroom opened and Gabriel bolted inside. He had the look a father has when he finds his son lying in a hospital room. I won’t deny it was touching after everything that had gone on between us.

  “I heard you say he’s awake!” he shouted.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping watch with Mr. Erikson?” Evelyn asked.

  “Is he going to be all right?” Gabriel asked ignoring Evelyn’s question.

  “His right arm is broken and he’s got some damaged ribs. He has a number of lacerations that need stitching, extensive bruising across his body, and his orbital lobe is damaged. There’s a deep puncture wound in his leg that’s still bleeding. He would be dead if Evelyn hadn’t put a tourniquet on his leg, but if I don’t get the bleeding stopped and the wound sealed, he won’t be all right.”

  “Coming through!” shouted Michael, squeezing past Gabriel with the box of medical supplies. Chamberlain followed him with a large bowl of hot water and several rags.

  “Thanks guys!” said Alison as she grabbed everything from Michael and Chamberlain and set them on the bed.

  “How can I help?” I heard Gabriel say.

  “We have no anesthesia and what I’m going to have to do is going to be very painful. I’m going to need help holding him still,” said Alison as she put on a pair of gloves.