The Redemption Saga Box Set

by Kristen Banet

  “Judo.” She grinned at him. Zander narrowed his eyes on her but didn’t say anything as she helped him up. “Don’t limit yourself to using one technique, even if you are just training. Practicing bringing them all together will make it seem natural if you need to use this in the real world.”

  “I thought Zander was leading training,” Quinn whispered, and she looked over. He was giving Vincent a confused look.

  “I think this training is quickly becoming a technicality that we shouldn’t waste our time on,” Vincent told him, sighing with a real smile. He turned back to her, the smile fading. “But firearms, you still need to work on those.”

  “And I want to get her sparring with shields on us,” Elijah added. “Though, yeah, I think we can get back to work faster than we planned.”

  Sawyer only shrugged at the conversation, watching Zander who looked thoroughly displeased with something. Probably himself.

  “You okay?” she asked his quietly, and he turned his hard, green eyes on her.

  “Where did you learn this?” he asked her in return.

  “I don’t think the question you should ask is where,” Vincent spoke up, and she flicked her eyes to him. “I think it’s why did she learn this?”

  She narrowed her eyes on Vincent before turning back to Zander. They had a deal, that ass. But Vincent had promised he wouldn’t pry, not that he wouldn’t lead others to do it for him. She should have made sure there were no loop holes.

  “I learned boxing and kickboxing from Charlie,” she began slowly. “Judo was something I was working on until you dragged me out of New York. Krav Maga is another I’ve studied, also with a trainer in New York.”

  “Why?” Zander pressed. She bit back a hiss that he had latched on to the question posed by Vincent.

  “Protection,” she bit out. “Why else?”

  “Alright.” Zander turned away from her, and she turned a glare on Vincent, who had the balls to give her a tiny, arrogant smile.

  “How often are we doing this, and what am I allowed to do in my free time?” She needed to direct them away from this line of questioning. She learned nonlethal takedowns and fighting styles because she didn’t want to kill anyone. Axel had only trained her to take life, not preserve it. They couldn’t know that.

  “Well, after that performance…” Elijah grinned and looked between her and Vincent, “I think we should cut this down to mornings. Oh, Vincent, you can teach her the ropes of being an IMPO consultant in the afternoons instead! Can we get her certified?”

  “I’ll need to check the regulations.” Vincent frowned thoughtfully.

  “I don’t want to get certified as an IMPO consultant. Thanks, but no thanks,” she huffed. She didn’t need her name being officially attached to the IMPO like that. “I’ll just tag along. Once this is all over, I’m going back to New York and going back to my life.”

  They were all silent at what she had said, looking around at each other. She was missing something here, and she didn’t know what.

  “I’ll check the regulations,” Vincent said again, quietly, his impassive stare directed at Elijah.

  “I should teach her survival techniques,” Quinn blurted out suddenly, breaking the strange, heavy silence around them. “Our assignments can go to dangerous places, and she will need to be able to survive.”

  What? Quinn, the intense wild man, was suddenly interested in her well-being? Well, she didn’t really know how he felt. The others were obvious with their intentions, whatever those were, but Quinn barely even looked at her. She frowned at him, confused by the strangely talkative version of him she was witnessing this morning. After a few days of brooding, strange silence, she was growing increasingly uncomfortable with this version of him.

  “Good idea.” Vincent nodded to him. “I didn’t schedule it because I wasn’t sure how you would feel about it.”

  Quinn only shrugged in response, and his face returned to its usual impassive expression.

  “Like what?” Sawyer began unwrapping and rewrapping her hands in boredom. “Like building fires and stuff?”

  Quinn gave a jerky nod but remained silent. Sawyer figured that must mean that the conversation was over, and it seemed the others were on the same page as her.

  “Let’s run through some more sparring.” Zander waved a hand around. “No reason to waste the fact that we’re here for it.”

  She put him on the mat four out of five times after that. They had all paired off. Elijah and Quinn. Vincent and Jasper. Zander was definitely the best in the group, but he wasn’t going to beat her consistently, she knew that. There was one difference between them. She had learned to fight in order to stay alive, then applied that knowledge to the task. He had learned to fight to do the same, but it was obvious he had never used it to do so. He didn’t have the same unerring focus she had noticed in fighters who knew the cost of losing. That cost, in some fights, meant you didn’t get a second chance.

  By lunch, Zander and Vincent dismissed them all.

  “Sawyer, remember the schedule. Morning workout, firearms, weaponry with Elijah,” Vincent told her as she unwrapped her hands. She nodded. Wonderful. “I’ll work with Quinn about when he wants you with him for survival training. And I’m going to work on seeing what I can do about getting you filed as a consultant for IMPO and the team.”

  “Alright.” She shrugged. She had agreed to listen to him, she reminded herself even as she wanted to rail against the professional and authoritative tone he took. “But I don’t want to be a consultant.”

  “See you at dinner.” He ignored her, and she ground her teeth as he walked away.

  She finished putting her hand wraps away as Zander snuck up close to her. She flicked a look at him and raised an eyebrow. He was still shirtless, and, while she could ignore that while she prepped for a fight, she couldn’t ignore it now.

  He was lean, toned, pale as the moon, covered in freckles, and damn that V he sported with those stupid revolvers… She mentally cursed her attraction to him. He’d always been too good looking, too much of a playboy. While she and Jasper had stuck close, hanging out only in their group, Zander had left a trail of broken hearts behind himself in high school—the casualties being every woman silly enough to think she could tame him.

  Sawyer had never held the belief that she could do so, and she wouldn’t entertain the thought, even if her life depended on it. What had happened between them had been stupid, wonderful, and probably the best first time a girl could have asked for. She wasn’t up for a repeat performance, though, no matter how good he looked. That had complicated written all over it.

  “Can I help you?” she asked when he just kept watching her. She looked around the gym and sighed. They were alone. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with Zander.

  “I wanted to talk about your fighting,” he told her, stepping a little closer. She stepped back, keeping a few feet between them. “Why did you learn to fight like that, Sawyer?”

  “To protect myself, like I said.” She shrugged. “It’s not hard to comprehend.”

  “From what?”

  She took a long, shuddering breath as she stood and leaned against the wall. She had made her choice to open up a little to them, and if there was a person to tell first, it was Zander.

  “From getting hurt by someone again.” Sawyer waved over her body. “Look at me, Zander. Scarred and maimed. By someone I thought I could…” She trailed off, looking for the right words.

  “Sawyer,” Zander swallowed and moved closer to her, “tell me, please.”

  “I’m trying,” she sighed. “I was in a relationship with the guy who got me into all this. I was lonely and thought he cared for me. He was teaching me how to take care of myself and said he was giving me a bigger purpose. When I tried to get out, he tried to kill me.”

  Zander stayed silent, watching her intently. She shrugged and rubbed the scar on her chest with her right hand.

  “So, I met Charlie,” she continued softly. “He
took me in, listened to me. He taught me how to really fight and defend myself. I learned to protect myself, but one day I realized I could be doing more. I started helping others out of their problems. Thieving just kept us afloat, and I still liked the mental work of it.”

  He reached out and rubbed her arm. She looked up to his green eyes and gave a weary smile.

  “It was a long time ago, Zander.” She patted his arm. “Sometimes it’s closer to the surface, and sometimes things set me off, like in the kitchen with Vincent. So, there you go, the reason I learned to fight like this.”

  “Sawyer, I’m so sorry for leaving you,” he whispered, his arm wrapping around her and she accepted the hug from him. She held his back for a moment, and a piece of her relished in the feeling of a hug from Zander again. A large piece. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

  “He found me with my new adoptive father and offered me a sanctuary; then he took advantage of the trust I gave him. I learned my lesson,” she whispered and pulled away slowly. “Tell Jasper? He won’t want to hear it from me and-”

  “He’ll want to hear it from you, but I’ll tell him if that’s really what you want,” Zander cut her off softly.

  She honestly didn’t want to repeat the story again, so having Zander tell Jasper was fine with her. She nodded and picked up her small bag of gym gear.

  “Thank you, Zander, for listening,” she mumbled. “And I’m done talking about it for today. Tune in next time for ‘Sawyer’s Fucked-Up Life’ showing nearly every goddamn day on Daytime. I need a shower before doing anything else today.”

  She walked away, leaving Zander to chuckle. She grinned to herself. A good joke was needed to lighten the mood, and she needed the mood to lighten. He was on her heels on the steps, still laughing softly.

  “I shouldn’t be laughing,” he snorted. “I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.”

  “I wanted you to laugh, stupid,” she chuckled, “or I wouldn’t have made a joke. Seriously, don’t let all of this,” she waved over herself and looked back at him, “get you down. It’s life and it happened. I got out.”

  “Alright.” Zander nodded. “I’ll keep from bringing it up too much with you. But, if you need anyone to talk to…”

  “I can talk to you or Jasper, and even Elijah offered,” she chuckled. “I know. I’m going to take a shower. Tell Vincent I don’t want to be a consultant for the IMPO.”

  “Have a good shower. There should still be some hot water left.” He grinned at her, and she narrowed her eyes at his complete disregard for the topic of being a consultant. Dick.

  Before her shower, Sawyer noted, her bedroom had been devoid of intruders. Now, she frowned, there were a few guests she didn’t remember inviting in.

  “Quinn? Would you like to tell me why you and your wolves are in my space?” she asked politely, smiling tightly.

  Quinn was stretched out in her desk chair while Shade and Scout lay on her bed watching her intently. He was looking at her box of photos intently, and she was happy to see it was closed. When he looked at her, his ice-blue eyes were devoid of emotion.

  “I’m taking you into the woods for some training,” he told her, curt and rough. “Meet me on the back porch.”

  She was still standing by her door when he and his wolves silently left.

  “Why is he such a weird fucking man?” she muttered to herself, closing her door. The woods. The city girl in Sawyer raged at the idea of playing in the dirt and trying to camp, but Sawyer’s practical side was telling her that it was about time she learned something about survival in rural or uncivilized areas. She scoffed. Her practical side could go suck a dick. She hated the dirt.

  She grabbed some tennis shoes and an old pair of jeans. He hadn’t said that she might need anything and that worried her.

  When she met him on the back porch, he was brushing Shade, who panted in the afternoon heat. It was sweltering, so she couldn’t blame the poor wolf for having a hard time. Scout was hiding in the darkest shade on the porch and didn’t seem to be doing much better.

  “Are they okay in this heat?” she asked, watching the wolves and their Magi carefully.

  “They stay inside a lot during the day in the summer, but for training, I want them around.” Quinn put the brush down on a small table and left it there. He began to walk off, leaving her. Shade followed him, and Scout bumped into her legs. Sawyer realized he was telling her to follow. Bonded animals had a higher intelligence level then unbonded animals. No one really knew why, but it was another fact of their life.

  She jogged to catch up and followed Quinn to the trail she had been told not to use. The marker was really obvious, but she remained silent as Quinn brought them to his… garden. They walked for nearly fifteen minutes until the trail ended in a clearing.

  In the center was a large fire pit that had stones circling it and a few big logs placed around it as seats. Toward the opposite side of the clearing was a log lean-to like one someone would find at a campsite. Inside the lean-to was a sleeping bag, a fold-out chair, and a camping bag. Shade and Scout were both heading over to sleep at the front of it, and she watched them both collapse in the shade. To her right, a legitimate garden was growing, organized and clean. She couldn’t identify any of the plants, but it was pretty. The left side of the clearing had a drop-off, and she could hear the stream below in the silence.

  “I don’t have an office at the house,” he mumbled. “Don’t come out here unless I give you permission.

  “Okay.” She nodded. “Jasper already let me know.”

  “Today, we’re going to start simply. Building a fire from scratch. Once you figure that out, we’ll talk about what’s next.” Quinn went into the lean-to and grabbed the bag.

  It was an interesting lesson. She quickly realized that Quinn did not care whatsoever about her city girl sensibilities.

  “My hands are getting blisters,” she groaned. She already had some calluses, but even they couldn’t save her from what this was doing to her hands.

  “Blisters? That’s what you’re worried about?” Quinn frowned at her. “Work harder and you won’t get them anymore.”

  She did get a fire going, even if it took the entire first hour. Quinn made her do it again, and it went faster the second time.

  “Water, fire, shelter, food,” Quinn recited. “The most important things you need to survive. Once you can get a fire going consistently and quickly, you’ll need to learn how to get fresh water. Every step is an extension of the previous. At the end of these six weeks, you should know everything I have to teach you about the basic.”

  “Did the guys learn that quickly?” She looked down at her ragged palms, wincing at the sight. If she didn’t want it to happen every day, she would need to let them heal on their own without magical assistance. Her callouses would need to get thicker, so Zander wasn’t allowed near her hands.

  “Vincent figured it all out in four,” he told her, grabbing one of her wrists and frowning. “Elijah was even faster, but he grew up in a rural area and camped a lot growing up. Jasper and Zander both took the full six weeks.”

  “Good for them,” she sighed, trying to pull her wrist away but Quinn didn’t release it. “I told you I was getting blisters. It’s no big deal.”

  “I have an ointment, non-magical. It should help with the pain and speed up the healing process,” he murmured quietly as he released her.

  “You know,” she said as she she kicked some dirt around and looked about his camp, “some really stereotypical things could be said about this.”

  He looked at her, and his eyes narrowed. He might have heard some of those things.

  “If you have any sense of self-preservation,” he whispered, “you’ll never say any of those things.”

  “I wasn’t going to,” she assured him, “but since I’ve been dragged into all of this, I was just wondering what your story is.”

  “My mother and her kind taught me all of this when my abilities were similar to their own.” He walked
into his lean-to, grabbed something, and brought it over. A mason jar of green, pasty stuff was inside. “This will help.”

  “Kind?” She narrowed her eyes this time as she took the jar. “Not people?”

  “My mother was a Druid.” He gave her a vicious smile, and she stepped back, her eyes going wide. She nearly dropped the glass. “I don’t know where she originated because Druids only interact with their own, regardless of where they come from. So, she and her kind.”

  Druids were Legends, a type of Magi that inspired non-magical legends, hence the designation. There were several kinds of Legends, but the most common were Druids. A Druid was always immensely powerful, having several nature abilities. They could bond with hundreds of animals in their region, grow portions of forests over a matter of weeks, remove traces of pollution, and so much more.

  No wonder Quinn was so powerful. Having a Druid for a mother, the only parent that could be a Druid since all Druids were female, would have given him a predisposition for an exceptionally strong magical Source. It made him exceptionally dangerous.

  “When I was considered as trained as I could be,” he gestured to the massive sleeve and chest tattoo he had, “my mother gave me this. It’s considered a Druid’s mark to other Druids that I know their ways and that one of them has a claim on me.”

  “I didn’t know they did that,” she whispered, eyeing his ink. “It’s very beautiful.”

  “I hate it,” he growled, “and I hate all of them.”

  She swallowed and nodded.

  “You should go,” he growled softer this time. She just nodded again, remembering that Quinn scared the shit out of her and she should have never opened her mouth.

  She turned and forced herself to walk instead of run. Her fight or flight response was very clear in what it wanted. Quinn didn’t threaten her overtly, as much as he made all her instincts scream to get the fuck away from him.

  “Wait,” he called before she got too far away. She stopped and, in a jerky motion, turned to see him jogging to her. When he stopped in front of her, she tried to edge away. “Tomorrow, bring a bag with you. I’m going to start helping you build a mission bag for this kind of stuff. The entire team has one, and it could help you when you leave.”