Sleeper (Rise of the Fianna Book 1)

by Amy Brock McNew

  Three couldn't breathe. The one thing that meant more to her than anything else in the world. The only thing that could have her rethinking her hastily forming plan to leave.

  She forced her expression to remain bland. “I'll see it done.”

  “You will, won't you?” He seemed inordinately pleased. “You are dismissed.”

  Three nodded and backed out the door. As she emerged into the muggy night, she ignored the increased activity in the camp. Brushed away the teammate calling her name. She made a beeline for her bunk and flung herself on the hard bed.

  All you have to do is be who you truly are.

  Who was that? A killer? A monster?

  Would he really give her the answers she craved, or was it all lies to keep her in line?

  Her plan of taking out her fellow assassins and running to Talon was no longer her only option. But could she trust her boss to live up to his word?

  Something told her in this, he would. She had something he wanted. Damned if she knew what it might be.

  She wasn't sure she could kill Talon to find out, though. Or the surly one either, for that matter. He had a right to be angry. She’d killed his female. After witnessing his grief, she felt a morbid connection to him.

  And who was Talon to her anyway? That was one answer she knew the boss would never give. One that bothered her more than even not knowing her own name.

  It felt important. Vital.

  By the time sleep claimed her, Three was no closer to a choice as to which path she would take.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Voodoo Child

  “Why don't you take a few days off?”

  Makenna stared at the phone.

  The hits just kept coming.

  Tim was firing her. He hadn't said that, but it was coming. He couldn't keep her after she'd lost control in front of the kids like she had the other night. She’d expected it. Didn't mean it hurt any less. Those kids and the center were all she had.

  Now she'd lost them. Like she was losing everything else. Rhys. Her semi-normal, though still crazy life she'd been used to. What little sanity she'd had left.

  All gone.

  Happy fucking birthday to her.

  She chucked the phone at her dining room wall, feeling a perverse satisfaction when it shattered. What did she need a phone for anyway? There was no one for her to call. She was alone. A lonely freak whose brain was about to explode.

  Literally.

  Yet again Makenna clamped her hands over her ears as the pain became unbearable. The howling, the ringing in her ears, the voice screaming in her head. It felt like something was trying to rip out of her brain.

  She slid down the end of the kitchen bar to the cold tile floor.

  The pain in her head and burning under her skin had eased when the sun came up but never left. As the day wore on, it only got worse again.

  She pried her eyes open and looked at the clock. Six p.m. She'd been in bed all day. Most of that time had been spent tossing and turning, alternating between fitful sleep full of disjointed nightmares and crying. The pills she'd found stuffed in the back of her medicine cabinet hadn't been any help. Even though she'd taken four of them after Rhys had left.

  Well, after she'd thrown him through the door and he'd put it back together with a wave of his hand.

  Wolf. Goddess. Queen.

  Not possible. But the howl in her head and the red, wavering cloud of light surrounding her called her a liar.

  The first time she'd seen it after Rhys left, she'd thought it was an aura from a migraine. She’d discovered real quick that the pain and weird light was no migraine. That's when she'd gone hunting for the sleeping pills to knock her ass out, thinking she'd wake up and it would all be a bad dream.

  Wolf. Goddess. Queen.

  It was no dream. Whatever was happening was real. Invisible claws raked her gut from the inside, and she doubled over.

  Very real.

  She needed a strong drink.

  Makenna used the barstool beside her to pull to her feet and staggered to the cabinet. One good swallow of Jack was all that stared back at her. She grabbed the bottle and killed the contents. The welcome burn wasn't nearly enough.

  Wolf. Goddess. Queen.

  She needed more to drown out the voices. To drown out the pain. To swallow up the reality she wasn't ready to face.

  The bottle left her hand and shattered against the same wall her phone had.

  Only, she hadn't thrown it.

  Makenna inhaled sharply. She lifted her hands, inspecting them closely. They didn’t feel any different. But the faint glow radiating from them sure wasn't normal.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit!”

  She ran to the closet and dug out the fingerless gloves she rarely needed in the warm Louisiana climate. Tugging them on, she breathed a little easier as they hid the glow. Mostly. The red cloud around her had faded, but she felt it pulsing and twisting inside of her.

  What the fuck was she going to do?

  Rhys. She should call Rhys.

  She glanced at what was left of her phone. Shards of glass and plastic scattered all over the floor, now mingled with the busted whiskey bottle.

  That wasn't an option even if she did have a phone. No matter what he knew, she wasn't speaking to that lying, secret-keeping sack of shit again. Asshole had known what she was all along, and apparently thought she did too. Thought she was the liar.

  Nope. That was all him.

  She really needed that drink.

  Wolf. Goddess. Queen.

  Whiskey. Lots of it.

  Makenna scooped her keys and wallet off the counter, slid into her flip flips, and headed for the door. She didn’t give a second thought to her wrinkled tank top and paint splattered cutoffs, or her crazy mane of hair flying every which way. She looked like a hobo and didn’t even care.

  Red light flared from her hands again and the swirling mass in her stomach spread through her bones. The door flew open before she got close.

  Just like the whiskey bottle, she’d been riled up, thought it, and it’d happened.

  Shit. She had to calm down. The force inside her seemed to feed on her emotions. All she had to do was breathe and chill and it'd go away. She forced herself to take several deep breaths. She'd go grab what she needed, come home, get blind drunk, and forget about everything.

  Good plan. Best fucking birthday ever.

  Makenna walked into the hall. Nodding and plastering on a smile for her neighbor, she slid past the woman without inviting conversation. The woman didn't seemed pissed. But how had she not heard the commotion last night? Nosy old coot called the cops if the damn T.V. was too loud.

  The light from Rhys's hands. The same light he’d used to put the door back together. He must've somehow dulled the noise or something.

  Again, impossible.

  She didn't have the energy or available brain cells to figure it out right now. As her heart rate began to tick up a few notches again, the light from her hands brightened. Shit. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, taking a few more deep breaths.

  Calm. Don't think about Rhys or magic or anything that’s clearly impossible.

  She climbed in her truck and cranked up the radio, losing herself in the music as she drove to the liquor store. She made it without incident and ran inside.

  She smiled at the gum chomping clerk. Thankfully, the place was empty of other customers. Heading straight for the whiskey, she grabbed the biggest bottle she could find. She rushed back up to the front of the store.

  “I'll be with ya in a second!” The clerk hollered from somewhere in the back.

  Couldn't the dumb blonde bitch of a clerk have waited until Makenna had checked out to do whatever she was doing? Makenna tapped her fingers hard on the counter. She stopped with a gasp. Faint impressions that matched her fingertips decorated the formica. Shit. Now she was denting countertops? Trying to keep herself and the weird power under control, she took some more deep breaths and gazed around. A wine
display caught her attention.

  Pinot Noir. The same bottle Rhys had handed her the night they met.

  Her blood boiled. A barbed spike pounded into her already battered heart. He'd lied to her. Trapped her.

  Now they were bound together in a way she didn’t understand. Forever.

  The twisting in her gut climbed to epic levels. Her hands glowed, a deeper red this time. Her heart rate skyrocketed as her skin lit on fire.

  She closed her eyes and breathed deep. It didn't do any good.

  Every bottle in the display blew to bits, pieces of thick glass exploding like a spray of bullets had hit them. Various colors of wine spewed all over the floor and nearby racks.

  Shit!

  She glanced towards the back. The clerk was nowhere to be seen. More energy rushed through her. Her pulse ratcheted higher and another row of bottles exploded along the wall closest to her.

  Makenna turned to look at the latest damage and spied the camera mounted in the corner. Fuck! Now there was proof she was a freak. The clerk would hand the tape over to the authorities. They'd find her. Then they'd lock her up, poking and prodding on her like she was some kind of alien.

  Maybe she was. Maybe she didn't belong among normal people.

  She couldn't let them see that tape.

  When she looked back up at the offending machine, sparks flew from the wires. The whole thing went up in a spray of colorful lights and smoke. She whirled around as the one behind her at the back of the store did the same.

  The clerk chose that moment to come running out of the back and over to the far camera, scratching her head. “What the hell?”

  Makenna left the bottle of whiskey on the counter and made a mad dash for the door. She didn't look back. She ran past her truck, not wanting to take the time to get in. The clerk could’ve already called the cops and they could be here any minute. Shoving in between tourists and shouldering the drunks already pouring from the bars, she ran faster.

  After tripping on her flip flops twice, she kicked them off, ignoring the strange looks from the crowd. She'd be just another drunk to them, a funny story to tell their friends when they went home.

  Home. She should go home. Then what? There was nothing there. No bottle to hide in. Nothing but memories of Rhys and his betrayal and lies and crazy stories. Still, it was safe. She couldn't hurt anyone there.

  Makenna hung a left and kept running. Stray rocks and fragments of glass cut into her feet, but she paid them no mind. The pain was nothing compared to what was eating her heart alive or the beast clawing its way out of her chest.

  A beast who was roaring now.

  She flung open the outer door to her building and took the stairs two at a time. The door again swung open before she touched it. This time she ran through without hesitation and let it slam behind her all by itself.

  She stood in the middle of her living room, looking at the shards of glass on the floor. Suddenly, she no longer felt safe here. The walls closed in, suffocating her.

  She had to get out of town. Away from Rhys. Away from the memories. Away from whatever the fuck was happening to her.

  Wolf. Goddess. Queen.

  Run.

  She limped to the bathroom and cleaned up her feet, then looked around her room. She didn't have much, so it wouldn't take long to pack. She could call a cab, take it back to her truck, and be gone before anyone even realized.

  Not that anyone would be looking.

  Makenna ran to the living room and grabbed her favorite blades from the wall. She stuffed them in the already open trunk she'd never closed last night. Then she dropped in all the keepsakes Rhys had scattered over the floor.

  She slammed the lid shut and locked it, then raced back to the bedroom. As she opened drawers and shoved clothes in her suitcase, the beast got louder. More insistent. She doubled over, dropping a handful of panties as she grabbed her stomach in agony.

  Wolf. Goddess. Queen.

  “No!”

  Makenna grit her teeth. No damn beast would rule her. When her closet, bathroom cabinet, and drawers were empty, she plopped down on the suitcase and squeezed the zipper shut.

  The sound rang in her ears like an omen. The end of her old life. The beginning of something new. Whatever that was.

  A shudder ran through her, then a faint sense of calm filtered into her system. She found herself drawn to the window.

  The full moon was rising.

  Breathing out slowly, she threw the curtains wide, letting the light in. She closed her eyes as it bathed her.

  Peace. Warmth. Power.

  The wolf, or whatever it was, howled long and haunting. The other thing inside of her stretched awake.

  Her peace shattered as they both roared and resumed their battle for control, fueled by the light of the moon.

  “Shit!”

  What the fuck was happening? Was she changing into something else? Was the beast real?

  She didn’t want Rhys to be right.

  Wolf. Goddess. Queen.

  She felt the truth to her bones. Denial was becoming impossible.

  She needed help. But who did she go to? She had no way to get ahold of Rhys now even if she wanted to. There was no one else. She was all alone.

  Wait. No she wasn't. There was one person who cared, who'd always been there for her. If anyone could help her, it'd be him.

  Mr. Labeaux.

  Leaving her suitcase on the bed, she shoved her tennis shoes on bare feet and took off. This time she didn't even blink as the door opened and closed of its own volition.

  She raced down the street toward his shop. Hopefully it wasn't hopping tonight. The tourists seemed to go nuts on a full moon. Maybe she'd get lucky and they'd moved on to the next shop.

  It seemed for once lady luck had decided to smile on her. His sign was on, but the rest of the lights were out and there weren’t any tourists milling about.

  Makenna skidded to a stop, already pounding on the iron and glass door. She prayed he answered and didn't think she was just an overzealous tourist.

  Just as she was about to give up and go around back, the door swung open. Mr. Labeaux reached out and pulled her inside. He scanned the street before he closed and locked the door.

  “Chile, you like ta scared the life outta me! You cut it damn near too close.” He pulled her by the arm toward the back of the dark store, the strength in the small old man surprising.

  She followed, stumbling. “Too close? What are you talking about?”

  There were vibrations in the store, sensations she'd never felt before. Not dark, but powerful. So powerful it calmed the beasts battling within her. Just a little.

  “I was jest about to come and git you. We don't got a lot o’ time.” Mr. Labeaux picked up a satchel and snatched a set of keys from a hook before throwing open the back door. “We got to git you some place safe. They're comin', cha. They done found ya.”

  “Who's found me? Where are we going?” She followed him to his old boat of a Cadillac.

  He swung the back door open and tossed the bag in before climbing into the driver's seat. “I'll tell ya on the way. Hurry!” When she hesitated, he stepped out of the car and looked at her over the top. “Look in yer heart. You know you can trust me. I'm takin' ya to safety. Look deep and you'll know.”

  Makenna didn't have much faith in her intuition lately, but she knew she could believe the voice telling her to trust her friend. She nodded then swung the door open.

  Before either of them could get in, a heaviness weighted the air, pressing in on her chest like a lead vest.

  Whoever Mr. Labeaux saw coming, they had arrived.

  Panic clogged her throat, chased by the need to fight. That thing inside her honed in on the enemy before Makenna even saw them emerge from the shadows.

  Three large, dark clad figures. All dressed and armed the same as the two who'd come after her and Rhys. She recognized the vibrations, their auras, whatever it was. They were from the same group that had already tried to kill
her.

  They knew she'd killed one of their friends and were there to settle the score. She had to get them away from Mr. Labeaux. She wouldn't allow yet another person she cared about to be hurt because of her.

  She glanced into the car and spied a knife on the dash. Keeping her eyes on the three unmoving figures, she wrapped her hand around the blade. When she looked over to tell Mr. Labeaux to run, she found something she'd never imagined.

  Her friend was surrounded by a warm, yellow light.

  It pulsed around him as if it were alive, seeming to come from inside. Just like the light from her and from Rhys. His eyes glowed the same unearthly yellow. He held a long, wicked looking curved blade.

  “When I tell ya to run, ya head fer the swamp.” Her usually sweet, quiet old friend sized up their opponents. Fire raged in his eyes. “You just let them lead ya. They'll tell ya which way is home.”

  Home? Let them lead her? Them who?

  But she knew the answer.

  The beast and the being inside her. The ones who were fighting against his order. Something was about to happen. A fight they couldn’t allow her friend to face alone.

  Makenna wanted to freak out. To deny what she didn't want to know. She couldn't. Those fighters were slowly moving in, hands and eyes glowing. And they were about to try and do some serious damage to her and Mr. Labeaux.

  Yeah? Well, she had power now too.

  As much as it terrified her, as much as she didn't understand it or know how to control it, she had to use it. No way could she leave him here to fight her battle. Courage she didn't know she had, power she didn't want, and rage she embraced surged through her veins.

  She was done running. Done being scared. Done hiding.

  Time to stand.

  She might die trying, but at least she'd go out protecting the one person who'd always been there for her. She'd go out doing something good.

  Makenna walked to the front of the car where Mr. Labeaux had taken up position.