by Mercy Hollow
“Exactly. It’s not fair. With all I go through in my position, I would think you would understand. I’m sick of hurting people I care about. Sick of watching wrong be taken out on others. And the assholes of this world using the Legions’ rules to destroy people.”
Vince shook his head. “No. No, no. You can’t put yourself in danger. How could you? How…” He whirled around, clutched Grim by the shirt, and slammed him into the wall. “How could you take her to Lance? Encourage her to punish him?”
Grim remained calm. Motionless. Solid. Ready to take whatever Vince needed to release.
Fair grabbed Vince and dragged him away. “Stop it.”
Vince lunged at Grim again.
She clutched his arm and shoved him back, wedging herself between them. “Stop it. Now. If it wasn’t for Grim, her brother would be lying in a pool of his own blood embracing his Second Death. And I’d be thrown in the Crate for putting him there.”
“What?” Vince’s stance shrunk.
A surge rose in Diablo, but he knew better than to intercede in Vince and Fair’s business.
She threw the soaked cotton at Vince’s feet. Antiseptic, dry and sterile, permeated the air. “I went after her brother, that Lance guy. He wasn’t even worried about his sister. Just worried about his next fix. I confronted him. He tried to run. I jumped him, hit him. The guy started sobbing. Pitiful. Empty. He held up a syringe of Tears. Begged me to let him shoot up first so he could feel something again, feel bad about what he did to her. But I didn’t care. I just kept hitting him. Then Grim grabbed my arm. Pulled me off. Stopped me.”
Vince looked to Grim then glanced down at the guy’s battered knuckles. “Did you kill him?”
Grim shook his head.
Fair spun Vince toward her. “Grim told Lance he owed him. That when the time came, Grim would collect, make Lance pay for what he did. But that today and for the rest of his days Lance would have to suffer knowing he ruined his little sister’s life. A fate worse than any pain anyone could inflict on him. Then Grim let him go.” She smiled at Grim, like he understood her in a way even her beloved husband couldn’t.
Vince grabbed Grim’s cut hand. “Then what’s this?”
Grim flexed his fingers, then pulled them in tight. “I told you, I was collecting for Slice. That’s when I saw Fair. Saw the look in her eyes. So I followed her. To make sure nothing happened to her. Sorry I got there a little late.”
“You were going to stop her, before she did anything, right?”
He glanced at Fair. “Sure. Well, after a few good punches. Absolutely.”
“She can’t risk that.”
Grim kept his expression flat. “I appreciate yours and Diablo’s chivalry, but sometimes being chivalrous means letting women handle their own business.”
Vince’s eyes tightened.
She poked Vince and her expression hardened. “You think I don’t have the same rights to take action as you do?”
Tail tucked, Vince stammered. “No. I mean. Yes. Of course.” He clutched her shoulders. “If something happened to you. I need you.” He stroked her face. “After all this time. So many Claims. What’s so special about this girl? That you would lash out? Risk imprisonment?”
Fair laced her fingers with his and led him into the guest room next to the girl’s bed. Diablo and Grim followed.
“The antigen chose her designation.” Fair pulled back the covers, revealing a symbol burned from the inside onto the girl’s abdomen – an antique scale, a tear drop balanced above one plate and a slashed line above the other, and beneath it the Claimed name Gracious.
“A Giver?”
Diablo knew the symbol pushed every button inside Vince.
Vince wrapped his arm around Fair. “I’m sorry. I know how hard this must be for you.”
Grim furrowed his brow. “What’s a Giver, exactly?”
They all looked to him.
Diablo scratched his head. “You don’t know? You’re Slice’s Sovereign Shield.”
Grim fuddled in his pocket and pulled out a seal stamp with his Legion’s emblem – a straight razor. “I’ve only signed the orders for Consequence for Slice.”
Fair clenched her hands and stepped in Grim’s space.
He didn’t move.
“Haven’t you read the Guides? Attended a Consequence?”
“No. Slice doesn’t have any guides. I heard he burned them. He doesn’t get involved and makes it clear I shouldn’t either.”
“You sign orders to make the Givers perform tasks and you don’t even know what you’re forcing them to do?”
Diablo held Fair back. “It’s Slice, not Grim. You can’t hold him accountable for what he’s forced to do any more than you hold me, or Vince, or yourself, accountable.”
Vince turned around and lifted his shirt. His back was covered with over a hundred Claimed names. At least half of them were crossed off, a black burnt line, like the one on the girl’s stomach, marking them off.
Grim stepped closer and examined the marks. “A Giver burned all those names off your back?”
Vince looked at Fair. A lifetime passed between their eyes. “Yes. And she taught me, not the Legion’s lesson, but her own.” He got down on his knees before Fair, lifted the bottom of her shirt, and kissed the symbol on her skin – the scale, the tear, the line. “The Legion makes them give Consequence. But a true Giver grants forgiveness. Even for yourself.”
I can’t pull them into my mess? Risk their hard earned dream.
Diablo bowed his head and whispered, “I should go.”
Fair gripped Diablo’s hand. Her warmth bled into his soul. “I know you want to protect us, but you don’t have to fight alone. Together we can stop Smoke’s aftermath and show the Legion, and your heart, the compassion they deserve.”
Head down, Diablo left the room. He grabbed the decanter of whiskey, stepped back in the doorway, and held up the liquor. “I know this sucker is full, but if we’re going to do this, we might need more.”
Thank you for spending time in these pages. To read more about Diablo, Vince, and Gracious check out Scythe: Legions of the Claimed available in eBook or paperback. And look for more with Grim, Diablo, and Smoke in the upcoming Grim, available in April 2018.
Happy reading,
Mercy Hollow