Sleeper (Rise of the Fianna Book 1)

by Amy Brock McNew

  She stilled as the point made contact with her throat.

  “Stop. Come with me. Let us help you.” His voice broke right along with her heart. His eyes flashed then glowed, looking more animal than human.

  An animal that called to her on a soul-deep level.

  The vibrations of power from her fellow assassins grew closer. His people edged nearer from the other side.

  They wouldn't be fast enough to save him.

  The blade at her throat shook as the hand holding it trembled. “If I have to, I'll knock you out and take you with me. I can't let you go back there.”

  He spoke quietly, but there was steel in his voice.

  Three kicked out with both feet, jumping up and back as she did so. He flew backwards, and she was on him in a heartbeat.

  Positions reversed, she now sat on his chest with her weapon just breaking the tanned skin of his neck. Those animal eyes flickered with utter desolation. Then a spark of hope as she withdrew and pushed to her feet.

  She flicked a glance to the side. In a matter of seconds, her people would arrive. Looking down at Talon, who sat in the water with wide eyes, she heaved a ragged breath.

  “Hit me hard, then run.”

  Talon leaped to his feet. “No. You have to come with me.” He reached for her hand and she jerked it away.

  Shaking her head, she bit her lip. It was tempting. Something about him soothed her. He was safety.

  Comfort.

  Home.

  It didn't make sense, but the thing inside of her said it was true. She couldn't go with him, though. Her people, if they even were her people, would follow. He'd be in danger.

  She couldn't allow that.

  Fighting the part of her still shouting to kill him, gritting her teeth with the effort, she gave him a sad smile. “I don't know who you are but thank you. I wish I could─”

  “You can.” He reached for her again, and she clasped his hand.

  A charge. Fire.

  A connection she'd never felt before.

  Bone deep.

  Blood deep.

  Home.

  Her tears escaped. Squeezing tightly one last time, she released him. “No. I can't.” A snap sounded in the brush not far away. “Now!” She whispered. “Hit me now. And make it good.”

  He shook his head violently. It sounded as if his own tears might make an appearance. “I can't leave you. I'm your─”

  “There's no time!” Every muscle she owned tensed tighter than a bow string. They were almost here. “Do it!” He hesitated, and she held his tortured gaze with her own. “I will find you.”

  Finally, he nodded and stepped wide. His face contorted in agony, he swung.

  The powerful blow threw her back and up the bank, landing with a bone jarring crash against a stump. There was a splash as he retreated. Moments later, the sound of boots brushing through reeds.

  “Faodaidh tu a─nis a bhith a 'cadal, a' ghaisgeach.”

  As the clawing darkness claimed her, her thoughts were of Talon.

  She would find him. If she were given yet another mission, she'd free herself and begin her search. There was no other choice.

  She'd finally found it. The thing she never knew she'd always longed for.

  Home.

  Family.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  More Human Than Human

  That wasn't how she wanted to start her day.

  Her legs folded up underneath her, Makenna flushed the toilet and leaned against the vanity. Her insides had been sent through a blender, then run over by a truck. At least her vision had gone back to normal. No more swirling colors. That was a relief. Even if the light was still too intense.

  It was one of only two pieces of good news she'd had in the last twenty-four hours.

  The second was her monthly visitor showing up. Being on the shot, sometimes she didn't even have one. If she did, it was light and usually only lasted a few hours or a day. This time, it was a blessing.

  The first time she'd started retching, she'd thought she was pregnant. Then between her little friend Flo and the fact she wasn't actually nauseous, she'd figured out that wasn't the case. Well, that and the fact that she and Rhys had only had sex just last night.

  Rhys.

  The name sent her right back over the bowl. But he wasn't the only reason her guts were inside out.

  She was changing.

  That beast inside, the one she'd been smacking down as long as she could remember, was getting stronger. It literally felt as if it were trying to claw its way out of her. Especially when she got all emotional or thought about Rhys, which sent her into a downright frenzy.

  Lying sack of shit.

  She hated him. At the same time, all she wanted was to be in his arms. It made absolutely no sense and proved her theory that she was nuttier than a pecan pie.

  But he'd taken a part of her when he walked out that door. Or rather, when she forced him out. He could've stayed. Could've given her the answers she knew damn well he had.

  Makenna got to her feet, brushed her teeth, and then stripped.

  No, she wasn't changing into anything. She was just pissed. And hurt. And about a million other things.

  That's all.

  She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. Four thirty in the afternoon. Spending the day in bed crying sure was a fucking fantastic waste. Now somehow she had to get her ass in gear and get to the gym. She had a class to teach at five thirty.

  No way was Makenna changing her life for that dick. Those kids depended on her and they were way more important than some guy who'd done nothing but cause chaos in her already fucked up life.

  He was nothing to her. Just a fling. A bad memory.

  There was that voice again, calling her a liar.

  She ran the water as hot as she could stand it before getting in the shower. She needed to wash his scent off of her. She didn't want to, stupid as that was, but she needed to. Every time she caught a whiff of him, her soul felt like it was bleeding and would never stop.

  God, if that was what love was, she wanted no part of the shit.

  Not that she loved him. She didn't. Couldn't. Had no reason to.

  Liar. Liar. Hot pants much?

  Growling at herself, Makenna scrubbed clean and wrapped up in a towel. Yes, growling. Seemed like that was all she ever did when she thought of him. Well, that and cry or scream.

  She yanked her dobok from the closet and a sports bra from the drawer and tugged them on, doing her best to shove Rhys O'Conaill from her mind.

  She jerked her pants especially hard. They ripped in half.

  Okay. That was new. Double reinforced, extra thick cotton, and she'd ripped them clean in half?

  So not right.

  She tossed them across the room with shaking hands. Breathe. The pants probably already had a tear. But the excuse rang hollow. She reached for another pair and pulled them on gently, being extra careful. Doing the same with the rest of her clothes, she managed to finish getting dressed without ruining anything else.

  In the kitchen, Makenna grabbed a protein shake from the fridge and sucked it down. She stood still for a minute, making sure it stayed down. All clear. But it didn't satisfy her. Not by a long shot. She needed a cheeseburger. Or maybe a steak. Yeah, that was the ticket. A big, fat, juicy steak.

  More weirdness. She'd just tossed her cookies, and now she wanted all the meat? Shaking her head to clear it and the strange cravings ravaging her system, she filled her water bottle and chugged it dry. Then again. The third time, she capped it off. Checking the clock again, she realized she had enough time to stop by Ray's and grab some coffee. That'd help clear her head.

  She just hadn't had her coffee today. That'd fix everything.

  Except her heart. That would have to wait.

  Makenna stuffed the water bottle in the pocket of her gym bag and slung it over her shoulder, then grabbed her phone and keys. They were laying on the bar, having fallen out of her small purse Rhys had appare
ntly tossed on the counter for her.

  Rhys.

  She stomped on the pain in her gut and the voice ringing in her ears telling her to go to him. She didn't need him. They were done. He didn't deserve another thought. His scent of leather and wood, still hanging in the air of her apartment, wrapped around her throat and squeezed.

  She had to get out of there.

  She charged out the door, slamming it behind her, and practically flew down the stairs.

  Five minutes later, she was slapping money down on the bar at Ray's, thanking him for the joe. She whirled toward the door and smacked right into Mr. Labeaux. She caught the tiny old man before he could hit the ground.

  “Well now, cher. Where be the fire?” He chuckled until their eyes met. He inhaled sharply. “Oh, chile.” He smiled, but that faded as he looked closer. “It gone be all right. I know t'will.” His weathered, warm hand caressed her cheek like a father would.

  Or how she supposed a father would. She wouldn't know.

  “I'll make it all right.” There was no keeping the steel and determination from her tone. She forced a smile for the now frowning man. “Thank you, though, for saying that.”

  “Makenna girl, done you be doin' anythin' rash, now.” His voice grew stern and his hand tightened. “Things is got to happen. But it'll work out and it'll be for the best. You'll be seein' that.” He tugged her down and kissed her forehead. “Now you go on 'n git to your class there. I'll be seein' you.” He walked to the counter, but not before Makenna saw the concern and hint of fear in his eyes.

  Felt it too, crawling on her skin, but she was ignoring that.

  On the way to the gym, she cranked up the stereo in her truck and lost herself in the pounding rhythms. It worked. Music was the only sound that didn’t hurt her sensitive ears lately. By the time she arrived and pulled her bag out behind her, she was feeling much better. Mostly. Okay, not really. She was looking forward to class, though. She'd have them spar tonight, and she'd take on some of the other instructors and higher belts.

  That's all she needed. A good go 'round.

  Liar, liar, pants on fire. She wouldn't be able to sit down for a week with her ass all burnt up.

  She tossed her bag against the wall and slid to the mat just in time.

  “Chair yut!” As they all came to attention, she nodded once. “Joon be.”

  Everyone dropped into ready position. The words and motions soothed her. This was more like it.

  After having them run through their forms for a while, Makenna was pleasantly surprised and proud. The kids had come a long way. Most were doing better in school and staying out of trouble too. Maybe she did do some things right in her life. The proof was standing in front of her.

  But she couldn't keep ignoring what was going on inside. The battling forces were ripping her in half, nearly doubling her over. It'd been all she could do to stand still or simply walk the lines and watch the kids' forms. She needed action. She needed to get her blood going.

  She needed a fight.

  Calling them back to attention, she announced they were sparring. Amid raucous cheers that had her clapping her hands to her ears, she sent the kids to pad up. She slipped on shin pads and her head gear. Before she even turned around good, they were all back in line, ready to go. She grinned.

  At least she wasn't the only one ready for a fight.

  After pairing her students up, she waved to Tim, her master. He was short, but stocky and solid, his brown hair getting greyer every day.

  “Fancy a little friendly sparring?”

  He laughed. “Why not? I could use the workout.” He strapped on his shin pads, then pulled on his own head gear. He motioned to her. “You forgot your chest pad, Ace.”

  She shook her head. “Won't need one.” She smirked, all in good fun.

  “Ah, so it's like that, is it?” He kicked his chest protector aside. “All right, then. How 'bout we go street style?”

  Absofuckinglutely. “You're on, boss. But remember. You trained me. I've got your number.”

  He laughed. “We'll see.”

  Every other match ended when they stepped onto one of the mats and everyone gathered around. They were always anxious to see their instructors spar.

  Makenna and Tim faced each other at attention, then bowed. They immediately slid back into fighting stances and bounced on the balls of their feet. She cleared her mind of anything but the opponent she faced, packing away the insanity swimming around inside.

  Emotion only clouded her mind, stilting the flow in a fight.

  Knowing she needed to make the first move or he'd eat her lunch, Makenna didn't hesitate. She went at him hard and fast with a combo of four low roundhouses, alternating legs, one solid kick to the inner thigh to weaken the leg, then jumped and spun, executing a perfect three sixty-wheel kick to his head.

  He blocked it while powering into her gut with his own roundhouse and following it up with a front snap to the chest as she faced him again.

  “Nice. But I taught you that.”

  He didn't have the words out before he was blasting her with his own combination. Multiple roundhouses, switching from high to low. A jumping snap kick that aimed to pancake her nose. Two inner leg kicks, one of which slapped her thigh with a sharp sting. She wouldn't have been able to block most of them if she'd been normal. She grinned, thinking the flurry was over.

  Tim waylaid her with a ferocious spinning back kick to the sternum.

  Her lungs deflated as she stumbled back and fought to stay on her feet. Lesson one: don't get cocky. But she was slightly off her game today. Gee, wonder why that was? The world spun and the intermittent weakness she'd experienced all day washed over her. She shoved it off, struggling to keep her features calm.

  He returned her grin before taking advantage of her position and moving in close. Grabbing the back of her neck with both hands, he jerked her head to her right, coming at her left with a solid knee to the kidney. Lifting his left knee to her lower abdomen, he attempted to tug her upper body down while he pushed with his knee, flipping her to the ground.

  That wasn't happening.

  The animal stretched awake again.

  Feeding on the thrill of the fight coursing in her blood, the beast took control. Makenna didn't have the energy to rebel. Without her consent, the thing inside of her went after her instructor. A strange haze fell over her, firing her muscles, just like in her dream. She let go of any restraint she may have had. Any objections that shouted at her to stop.

  She jumped in with the animal, fully engaged in the ride.

  Her head flew back sharply, breaking his hold. At the same time, she brought both arms up and out, swiping his hands away. Then came a flurry of punches to the face, too fast for him to block. The gasps around her were simply background noise. They didn't register, neither did what she was doing.

  She was out for blood. Could taste it. Craved it.

  Without pausing, she pulled devastating knees, one left, and one right. The impact was so jarring, it rattled her own teeth as it reverberated from his kidneys through his torso. Then as he stood there, dazed, trickles of red from his nose and above his eye, Makenna took a step back and spun.

  The back kick hit Tim square in the chest, lifting him off the ground at least a foot and sending him flying back through the spectators. He landed hard on his ass and skidded into the wall with a loud grunt.

  Dead silence screamed in the room for all of two seconds.

  Suddenly everyone was talking. Someone hollered at her. Tim waved away the two other assistant instructors who'd come to his aid. Then his eyes made contact with hers through the crowd. A strange mixture of fear, pain, confusion and pride stared back at her.

  The haze lifted and reality crashed in with a sonic boom.

  Every ounce of strength drained from her body in a single moment. Her limbs turned to jelly, and she crumpled to the ground, her butt and then her head smacking the pad.

  The beast crawled to the corner of her mind,
whimpering. It'd used all its strength for that little show and now felt as weak and groggy as she did. Both felt the absence of the one thing they needed, the one thing that would unite their strength and set the world right again.

  The other half of their souls.

  Rhys.

  Makenna squeezed her eyes shut and fought the stinging tears, the agony gnawing on her gut. Her hand pressed in on her temples in a futile effort to rid herself of the pounding in her brain.

  Voices. Feet shuffling on the mat around her. The sensation of several people gathered around. They were talking to her.

  “Makenna? Hey, are you okay?” Jamar's deep baritone cut through the din.

  She opened her eyes to see his frowning face hovering over her as he knelt beside her. Commanding her limbs to do as she ordered, she shoved to her elbows, then up to a sitting position. Slowly her equilibrium righted, and a bit of her strength returned.

  “Yeah. I'm, um, I'm okay. I think.” She took Jamar's offered hand and let him help her to her feet. Once she was sure of her footing, she nodded, and he released her. Seeing Tim gingerly making his way to his feet, a bloody, dazed mess, her gut twisted and panic gnawed at the edges. She took off toward him, stumbling. “Tim, I'm sorry. I don't know what─”

  “It's okay.” One hand on his back, one holding the rag over his nose, he tried to smile. “I said street rules. I asked for it.” His laugh turned to a weird, gurgling rattle.

  She stood staring for a moment. She'd hurt someone else she cared about. He'd been nothing but good to her. Training her, giving her a job. He'd even given her a few extra bucks once so her lights wouldn't get shut off.

  And this is how she repaid him.

  Not knowing what else to say as her throat closed up, she went on autopilot. “Here, let me get the kit.” She turned to go, and he gently grabbed her shoulder. She jumped and whirled, her first instinct to take him down.

  Bile rose in her throat as she felt the beast perk its ears up. She eyed the kids and other instructors standing around them, gaping, looks of confusion everywhere. Her clenched fists, quick movements, and the look she knew had to be in her eyes told the story.

  And they'd seen it.

  She had to get out of here.