The Warrior

by Victoria Scott

  I just want to freaking eat.

  “Ready to dig in?” I ask, suffocating the darkness.

  “Thanks for doing this, Dante. It means a lot.” She takes a bite of the salad.

  And then, somewhere outside the Hive, through the cold January snow—

  A trumpet sounds.

  2

  Trumpet

  At first I think my salad is just that bomb. That my menu selections require trumpets and marching bands.

  Then Valery races in, all breasts and curves and red hair. She looks like she was sleeping with full makeup on. Not surprising. My head fills with a soft buzzing as the cuff on my ankle senses hers. She trots up to us wearing a yellow nightgown that falls mid-thigh. It’s a bad color on her. Redheads and yellow don’t mix.

  “Hey, Red.” I stand from my dining chair. “You going to bed at 8:00 these days? Wouldn’t surprise me considering your age and all.”

  She jabs a manicured nail in my direction. I’m wondering who’s doing her nails in the middle of nowhere, in a piecemeal house on the edge of an ocean cliff. “I’m like five years older than you, Dante.”

  “More like ten.”

  “I am not—” She stops and shakes her head. “Did you hear that noise?”

  “The sound of your heavy breathing? Yeah, I heard it a mile away. You had to run, what, thirty feet to get here?”

  “I heard it.” Charlie comes to stand beside Valery. “It was like a blast of sound, like a musical instrument.”

  For the first time, a chill tiptoes down my spine. I thought I’d imagined what the sound was. That it was actually Kraven outside, setting off one of his bombs in a trial run. Valery lays a hand upon her chest. She does that a lot. I’m not sure whether it’s an unconscious tic or one she does because it’s so Hollywood starlet. I’m guessing the latter.

  Red opens her mouth to say something, but Max interrupts her.

  “What are you doing out here, Val?” he asks, striding across the room. His usual lopsided grin is gone. Max is my best friend, my boy, my brotha from another motha. But lately, he’s been less friend and more Angry Fiancé Who’s Not Allowed to Marry His Girl. I guess Big Guy still hasn’t given the ex-collector a full pardon. I’m sure I haven’t been given one, either. Difference is I don’t care. And Valery does. She won’t marry Max until Big Guy stamps his approval on the deal.

  Lame.

  “Did you hear the sound?” Valery asks him.

  Max nods, but his glassy eyes never leave her yellow nightgown. I guess for him, a redhead in yellow is the equivalent of a bong hit.

  “So we all heard it,” I say. “What does it mean?”

  Valery smiles too quickly, and the gesture says everything she doesn’t. “Nothing. It’s probably just the sirens messing around.”

  “The sirens?” I step closer and lower my voice. “You mean the hundred or so humans clinging to the ocean cliff outside the Hive like freaking cockroaches? The ones who work for the liberators? The ones who want to slaughter us in our sleep?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.” Red flips her hair off her shoulder. Max watches her hand fly through the air with fascination. Like she just did a magic trick and he can’t believe his eyes.

  “What was that sound, Valery?” I say, making sure to emphasize that I’m not using my nickname for her.

  “It could be that…” she starts.

  Charlie lays a hand on Valery’s forearm. “What is it?”

  “It’s the sign Kraven’s been waiting for,” I say, suddenly understanding, and also wondering why it took me this long. “They’re signaling to each other. And maybe to us.”

  Valery’s head snaps in my direction.

  “What’s going on here?” a new voice booms through the Great Room.

  Kraven. He strolls in with his ever-present quiet, unsettling demeanor. Kraven is the kind of guy who doesn’t speak unless he feels it’s absolutely necessary. He’s the polar opposite of my Charlie.

  “Well,” I say, “Charlie and I are trying to have a date here, and the sirens are making all this racket with their war-starting. Valery and Max are sexually frustrated, and you are creeping everyone out with your slinking and mumbling.”

  Kraven locks eyes with Valery. She tilts her chin up, and he nods. It’s a silent communication between the two of them, as if the rest of us don’t exist.

  “Not cool, Mr. Clean.” I motion for the guy who served our first course. He plods over. It looks as if his pants are even higher than they were before. “Can we take these in our room?”

  He bows low, and I wonder just how serious his wedgie is, because there’s no way he made it out of that bow without serious butt floss.

  “Aren’t you concerned about the trumpet, Dante?” Valery asks.

  “I’m concerned about a lot of things, Red. But mostly, I’m concerned with putting this food down my gullet.”

  And I’m concerned that the sound we heard might mean war is two weeks away.

  And that my time with Charlie is now more precious than ever.

  I take Charlie’s hand and motion toward the hallway. She jerks her fingers out of mine and glares at me with accusation. “We can’t pretend this isn’t happening,” she says, her voice unwavering.

  I turn my whole body toward her. “Yes, we can. Every day for the past four months, something is always watching, always coming. I’m tired of it. We heard a blast. I’m sure it has significance. But the sirens are outside. And we’re in here. Right now, at this very moment, we’re not in any danger. If we want to take action, I’m in, but my guess is Kraven is going to say…”

  I wave my hand toward him as if that’s his cue. He stares me down, not at all pleased with my theatrics, but like the predictable dick lick he is, he says, “I must wait on a message from our king.”

  I roll my eyes and turn back toward Charlie. “There ya go. Always farting around and waiting, so we might as well enjoy one more night before they ransack this place. Please, Charlie, have dinner with me.”

  What I don’t tell her, what I don’t tell any of them, is that I’m going to single-handedly figure out what else is on our ancient scroll. The one Big Guy created millennia ago and gave to his angels, and the twin one he gave to hell. Kraven assures us there’s more to the message than what Charlie read; the one that declared her the savior and Aspen the soldier. I haven’t figured out how I’ll uncover the rest of this invisible message, but there are too many sirens surrounding the pad for my tastes, and that scroll is my only hope.

  And we need hope. Because if the collectors and sirens succeed in capturing Charlie, they’ll have everything they need—Charlie and Aspen, body and soul. With those girls in their grasps, they could tip the scales in hell’s favor, which will cause the ground to open and demons to spill out upon the earth without the use of dargon. No biggie. But if we win, we can save Aspen and beat the collectors and sirens back into the underworld where they belong and bring about the hundred years of peace Charlie’s charity is meant to trigger.

  So, yeah, I want a night of relaxation before either option happens, because for the love of bacon, I have a plan.

  Charlie takes my hand. “It’s just a night,” she tells Valery.

  Valery presses her lips together in a tight line, but she almost seems relieved. Like me brushing off the sound of a trumpet blasting through the Hive makes her feel more at ease. Max touches Valery’s back and then shoots a death stare at Kraven. He moves to leave the Great Room and bumps Kraven’s shoulder on his way out.

  Kraven doesn’t even glance in his direction. He’s got that comatose thing going on again and looks a bit like someone’s grandpa who’s been sippin’ the sizzurp.

  I walk by Kraven and hold my clenched hand up. “Fist bump?”

  Kraven looks at me with confusion.

  “No? Aight. Check ya later, Una.”

  Charlie and I move toward the hallway, and I feel Kraven behind us. I sense him because we both wear liberator cuffs, but I also sense him the way I
do a storm cloud. Kraven’s got serious pent-up anger, and remembering the way he threw a siren off the cliff a few days ago makes me wary of having my back to him at all.

  I speed up, but pause when I hear Annabelle’s voice from behind me. Annabelle is Charlie’s best friend, and has stuck by her side through everything. She even gave my ass half a chance when everyone else thought I was bad news, which I was…am. Girl’s also decent on the basketball court. I’m better, naturally. But she’s good enough.

  “What’s going on?” she asks.

  Spinning on my heel, I find Annabelle looking back and forth between me and Charlie. Then she glances in the opposite direction and finds Kraven standing still as stone. His eyes rake over her. Inwardly, I groan. These two have been dancing around each other ever since we arrived at the Hive. Not sure why they can’t admit they have feelings for one another. If it were me, I’d come out and say it. Then again, I’m a dude who’s secure with his disgustingly present, it’s-all-Charlie’s-fault emotions.

  Kraven’s thing for Annabelle started when he realized she wouldn’t back down from his intimidation tactics. He didn’t want a human who wasn’t necessary staying at the Hive, and she refused to leave Charlie’s side. Heated arguments ensued, but Annabelle held her own against him, tit-for-tat. It wasn’t long before Kraven’s anger toward Annabelle morphed into intrigue. And lust. Definitely lust.

  “Hey, K-Town,” Annabelle tells the head liberator, “how’s the meditation going?”

  Kraven takes a small step toward her, and though Annabelle is doing a great job of pretending to be unaffected by him, her breath catches.

  “You should go back to whatever you were just doing.” Kraven’s voice is deep with authority.

  “No,” Annabelle says. “Shan’t.”

  Kraven moves toward her in the space of a single heartbeat. “Go back into that room and lock the door.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do.” Annabelle takes the last step that’s left to take between them.

  “Jaysus,” I interrupt. “Sexual tension, much?”

  “That’s not what this is.” Annabelle grimaces, her eyes never leaving Kraven’s face. “He just thinks I’m going to get myself in trouble again. Won’t let it go. That mess happened weeks ago.”

  “It happened nine days ago. And that siren could have killed you.” Kraven grabs her wrist, and that’s when I step in.

  “Back the hell up, Kraven,” I say. “Take your hand off her. I get that your trouser snake is angsty, but keep your temper in check.”

  Kraven’s head whips in my direction. Then he looks back at Annabelle. “She shouldn’t be here.” He growls and leans in close to her. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Oh, trust me,” she says. “I don’t want to be anywhere you are.”

  Kraven says something else, but his words are lost to me.

  A sudden movement has caught my eye—a shadow at the end of the hall.

  It’s there, and then it’s gone.

  3

  Shadow Walker

  My jaw clenches and frost courses through my veins. It’s like my entire body has broken through ice, and now I’m sinking, drowning in the winter sea.

  “Kraven.” I try to get his attention without speaking, but he keeps on keeping on with Annabelle. “Dude!”

  “What’s wrong, Dante?” Charlie squeezes my arm.

  “I saw something,” I answer, louder.

  Kraven stops harassing Annabelle and turns his attention on me. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  No.

  “I saw a shadow.” I cock my head in the direction of where I spotted it.

  Kraven straightens and motions for me to follow. Screw that. I don’t follow anyone. I’m not a sheep, I’m a shepherd with swag. I step in front of the mute meathead and start walking. Kraven and I both stop when we realize the chicks are following us.

  “No,” I say.

  “Not happening,” Kraven adds.

  “I can help.” Charlie raises her hands as evidence.

  “We don’t know if it will work again. Please, stay here. It’s probably just Blue, lurking like a freak.” But even as I try to shrug it off, adrenaline slithers through me like a viper. Whoever it was is getting away, and we need to go after them now.

  “What is this, the 1950s?” Annabelle adds. “Girls belong in the kitchen and crap?”

  “You’ll just distract us,” Kraven sneers.

  “Bite me.”

  Kraven bites the air at her, and Annabelle’s face opens with surprise. Then she socks him in the chest and storms in the opposite direction.

  I turn to Charlie. “Please, babe.”

  Damn. If looks could kill.

  Charlie storms after her friend. I want to go after my girl, admit it’s not her that I doubt. I doubt myself. Look what I did to Aspen.

  Kraven heads down the hallway. I move beside him, our shoulders nearly brushing the dark walls beside us. The floor beneath our steps is made of wood, and each step sounds like Albert Pujols cracking one out of the park. Right about now, I’d like some decent lighting, and I wonder at the Hive’s Torture Dungeon design style.

  When I first arrived here, I thought the Hive looked like a place built by carnies. It’s like someone took eight different houses and pushed them together and on top of each other. The end result is a labyrinth of strange hallways and attics and rooms you wouldn’t expect. Red says the house was built in a rush, but that it also serves as a safety precaution. The thought is that if a siren or collector broke in, they’d be much more likely to get lost than to find what they were looking for.

  The only other security is a multitude of locked doors at the Hive’s entrance, painted different colors every week, and small bells strung across the entire interior. Kraven didn’t want to draw attention to the place by setting up an elaborate security system. So recently, the humans strung bells, and now a half-dozen humans called walkers stroll the interior night and day, keeping an eye out for our enemies. These humans have previous fighting experience. Most are retired military from various countries that have nowhere else to go. I don’t think it’s a fluke that Kraven hired them when he was setting up staff at the Hive, because now if anyone breaks in, we have trained humans to ring the bells and be our first line of defense. I don’t hear the chimes now, but maybe that’s because we’re the first to spot this intruder.

  Kraven and I move swiftly, with knees bent. When we get to the end of the hall, we pause and meet each other’s gazes. I’ll tell you one thing, whoever’s around this corner has it coming. Homeboy’s about to face an ex-demon packaged as the Hulk, and a liberator who’s as unpredictable as a grenade.

  I grin at Kraven, because even though I don’t know what we’re chasing, my heart is thumping, and my blood is coursing, and I feel manically good. Better than sitting still. Better than waiting.

  We turn the corner.

  Nothing.

  Like Marines, we break apart and plunge forward, exploding into the branching rooms and exploring them with only our bodies as weapons. After we’ve searched the entire hallway, we move to the next, and the next. They’re all empty, save for one. In one room, I find Blue. He flips me off. I return the favor and keep trucking.

  “Where do these hallways lead?” I ask. I haven’t been on this side of the house much. Our bedrooms—the ones that Annabelle, Blue, Charlie and me share—are on the other side and… My pulse races. “Which direction are we moving in? Away from Charlie’s bedroom or toward?”

  Kraven’s gaze falls to the ground and then his eyes widen.

  Crap.

  We lurch at once, racing toward the other side of the house like a tidal wave of fury. If someone got her, I’ll never forgive myself. Will it be over then? The liberators have Charlie’s soul, and they have Aspen, body and soul. The savior and the soldier. In a war between heaven and hell, what happens if hell has all the artillery?

  Demons on Earth, that’s what.

  As we run, I p
ull on my shadow, and Kraven follows suit. Now we’re invisible forces barreling forward, using our cuffs as the ultimate camouflage.

  My mind fires through the five liberator names as I run—Patrick, Kincaid, Zack, Anthony, and…

  Rector.

  If a siren broke into the Hive, these are the guys they report to. And though not much worries me, that does.

  As we near our bedrooms, we slow to a stop. Annabelle and Charlie are standing like startled cats at the end of a hall. A bulb overhead buzzes, and the sound drives me mad. The shadow—a person—is closing in on them.

  The guy is shorter than I am, but is built like a boulder. He has wet, matted hair, and I know instantly that it’s a siren. He was probably bathing in the ocean, and when he heard the trumpet, he thought to himself, Yeah, me first.

  I want to call out to Charlie. To tell her to stay still and let me surprise him. But when she spots me over his shoulder, she springs into action, as if she needs to protect me. She races toward the siren with a cry ripping from her throat. Her hands land on his chest, and she growls like an earthquake.

  Nothing happens beneath her palms. No blue light.

  Shock widens her eyes, and she leaps back.

  Not quick enough.

  The siren grabs her wrists and yanks her against him. I’m there in an instant, on him like a second skin. I drop my shadow and tear him away from my girl as Annabelle rushes forward to help in the fight. Kraven’s white-feathered wings break open from his back, slamming into the walls, and his shadow falls away. He grabs Annabelle and tosses her away from the siren as if she weighs nothing, which is pretty boss since the girl’s built like a brick house.

  As soon as Kraven puts distance between Annabelle and the siren, he’s beside me, fighting against the siren. Though it’s two against one, the siren fights with gusto. He breaks one arm away and slams me hard across the face. Pain bursts through my left cheekbone.

  Oh, hell no.

  I pop him a good one in the nose, and Kraven tackles him to the ground.

  Everything happens like a flipbook. I see each scene as the page is turned, but nothing in detail. The siren is struggling against Kraven, and Kraven is getting all kinds of pissed off. Knowing Kraven won’t hesitate to kill one of the liberators’ soldiers, I struggle to get the siren to stop flailing. We could use this guy for questioning, and who knows what Kraven will do to him.