Ultimate Warriors

by Jaide Fox

  With the newer, faster judicial system in place, she was convicted of the murder by her own confession and sentenced to life imprisonment in a maximum-security complex. Adonis wasn’t allowed to go with her.

  * * * *

  Nikandros frowned, looking down at his digital watch. Quinlan was late--very late. He began to pace, looking over at the bench where he’d first saw her. His body ached to hold her again, just as his soul ached to clear her of any suspicion.

  He didn’t know why he continued to wait for her as the clock neared half past twelve. He only hoped that she’d come to her senses and show. Leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, he sighed. All of a sudden, his video phone beeped. Slowly, he drew it out of his pocket. It was time to go. He could wait no longer.

  * * * *

  Silk frowned as she wrapped her cape around her body. Pierson Park was quiet this time of night. The vendors were all locked up. The expansive lawn was empty. She was late for her meeting with Nikandros. Closing her eyes, she listened. She couldn’t hear him.

  Her legs sprang forward as she jumped off her post into the night. Walking, she strode over the darkened grass, her senses peeked. For all she knew it could be a trap.

  Then, she heard a soft beep. Silk froze. Her head twitched to the side. Her purple gaze narrowed as she focused on the sound. There, behind a tree.

  Darting forward, she kicked out legs first. Her fingers found the rough bark. Her spinnerets automatically attached themselves to the trunk as she flew around the side. She trapped Nikandros to the tree’s base, as she wound her silk around him like rope.

  "Silk," he whispered in surprise to see her. His phone dropped to the ground before he could answer it.

  Silk flew full circle around the tree before landing in front of him. Nikandros took in her mask, able to recognize her alluring body easily.

  "You came," he began. Relief overwhelmed him until he realized she had trapped him.

  "Of course I came," she said under her breath. "What do you want?"

  "I need to speak to you about the Bombyx project your father was working on," he said. "I need you to give me the formula."

  "Why should I give it to you?" she snarled. "I’ve been offered a lot of money for it. Do you think you can offer me something better?"

  "Quinlan, please." His eyes dipped over her face and body, taking her in. She could feel the hidden plea coming from his dark eyes. His look stung and she snarled.

  Bitterly, she lied, "Sorry, lover boy. I’ve had that already and don’t have any desire to taste it again. You’ll have to come up with a better offer."

  "You want money?" he asked, dejected by her heated words and the hard glint to her eyes.

  "I have money--more than I will ever spend," she returned. "What else you got?"

  "What about doing what is right?" he inquired.

  "And you’re what’s right?" she asked, laughing callously.

  "Quinl--," he began, her unsympathetic words hitting him like a brick.

  Silk took her fingers and ran them over his mouth, trapping his lips shut beneath a veil of silken threads. His words were muffled as he tried to speak.

  "Quiet," she commanded. Her purple gaze deepened in her anger. She felt betrayed by him. She knew she shouldn’t. He had warned her not to trust him, but like a fool she had. "I know who you are. I know what you’re up to."

  Again he mumbled.

  "Listen to me very carefully. The formula is gone." She spoke slowly, so there could be no misunderstanding her words. "I am all that is left of the Bombyx project and I will kill myself before I let you, or anyone else, have the formula. All my father’s notes are destroyed--all of them. I will not let another be turned like me."

  Nikandros’ jaw broke free of her gag. His eyes lit with fire at her admission. He had been right. She was innocent. "Quinlan, listen to me ... mmupf."

  Silk swiped both her hands over his mouth this time, making the gag thicker as she pulled her fingers back to the tree trunk to secure his head into place. Slowly, she crossed her hands over his chest to make her trap stronger--just in case.

  "Haven’t you been paying attention?" she hissed into his face.

  Nikandros searched her eyes for a sign of affection and found nothing. Oh, how he wished she’d take off her mask and let him kiss her.

  "Quinlan St. James is dead. Her father killed her. He injected her ... me with the serum to keep it away from men like you. I became a human silkworm."

  He groaned a word that sounded suspiciously like, no.

  "I will only tell you this one more time. The serum is gone. The formula for it is destroyed," she said. His eyes brightened and she thought he was thinking about Mrs. Nathaniel. "Sorry, lover. Your cohort has failed. Mrs. Nathaniel is being transported to maximum security for the murder of my father. It’s over. Do you understand me? It ... is ... over. If you ever come around me again, I will kill you."

  Before he knew what was happening, Silk took off running. Nikandros’ eyes flickered red as his body dissolved into a soft mist. He came out of her silken ropes, turning to give chase. But, as he came around the tree, she was gone.

  "Nick!" came a call.

  Nikandros blinked, looking around.

  "Nick! Where are you?"

  Nikandros looked at his feet. His video phone had fallen open and a miniature display of Korbin’s face stared at him. Picking up the phone, he carried it as he walked, searching the distance for Quinlan.

  "Nick?" Korbin asked.

  "She’s innocent," he said, his heart feeling like it was ripped out of his chest.

  "I know. I heard everything," Korbin admitted. "You were right."

  "What do we do now?" he asked, his eyes desperate.

  "I need you to come back here," Korbin said. "We’ve got to tell the other Protectors what we know."

  Nikandros nodded. Quinlan was gone. His voice hoarse, he asked, "What about Quinlan? What will happen to her?"

  "It is not for us to decide," Korbin said sadly. "She’s no longer human."

  * * * *

  Quinlan didn’t care if she never left her room again. It had been weeks since she last left Nikandros in the park. Her heart still ached as if it was yesterday. She knew he had used her and betrayed her, but try telling that to an organ that only beat for the memory of his name.

  She knew that Nikandros was in on the plot to steal her father’s formula. It all fell together perfectly. Mrs. Nathaniel let him use her husband’s lab while her husband was gone on various business trips--even going so far as to cover it up when attention was drawn to his presence.

  Then, Nikandros had been sent to seduce the reclusive billionaire, gaining her trust. After that, he was to have lured her away to the park while Mrs. Nathaniel had free reign of her father’s laboratory to look for the notes. Oh, it had been a good plan too--so simple. And she had fallen for it. If not for her sudden wave of longing for the council of her father, she’d never have suspected his connection to the woman.

  She knew the facts, fitted them together so nicely. But then, why did her heart continue to scream at her like she was the one guilty of betrayal? Why did her body ache and sweat until she could hardly move? Why did her eyes leak damnable tears until she couldn’t see for the redness of them? The loneliness was worse than before.

  Burying her head in her pillow, she screamed her frustration at the world. She couldn’t even throw herself into crime fighting like before. Helping the world held no appeal for her. She wasn’t much sure she liked the world right now.

  "Let them fend for themselves," she muttered in despondency.

  Suddenly, her maid unit switched on and walked over to the bed. Her eyes staring straight, she said, "Pardon me, Miss. You have a call."

  "Who?" Quinlan sniffed. For a moment, she wished it were Nikandros. Her heart sped ever so slightly at the faint hope. Oh, what she would give to just hear his soothing voice!

  "Henry Thompson," said the maid. "Shall I answer?"

  Quinlan frow
ned. Henry had been calling almost every day for the last three weeks, ever since news of Dr. Nathaniel’s wife surfaced in the papers. Dr. Nathaniel, out of embarrassment, severed all ties with the woman and had moved out of the district. Rumor had it that he was courting a new piece of eye-candy.

  "Yes," Quinlan said. "But, no video feed."

  "Quinlan?" came Henry’s voice. He sounded relieved. "What’s happening? I can’t see you."

  "I’m not decent," she lied. "I just got out of the shower."

  "Oh," he said, sounding mildly interested, before clearing his throat with a lower sounding, "Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you."

  Quinlan gave a small laugh at that.

  "Are you all right?" he asked. "I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days."

  "I know, sorry," Quinlan answered. "I’ve been preoccupied. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone and the reporters have been calling my house like mad."

  "I can well imagine," said Henry.

  Quinlan just bet he could. She’d seen personal quotes from him in almost all the papers.

  "I wanted to let you know that your father’s collection is a huge success," said Henry. "It is our most popular display to date."

  "I’m glad to hear it," Quinlan said. Her father would have liked that.

  "Now, about this formula business," said Henry. "Is it true?"

  "No," answered Quinlan without hesitation. "My father was working on it when he died. He said the properties were too unstable. The DNA mutations it caused would liquefy anyone who tried to use it. The whole project was a failure. It was my father’s only failure as a scientist. That is why I don’t want the record of it released."

  "I understand," said Henry. He took her at her word. "As a leader in the scientific community, I will tell everyone that his work wasn’t even started into the field. Your father’s secret is safe with me."

  "I know, Henry," Quinlan said. "You’re a good friend."

  "I was hoping to be more," said Henry. There was an optimism to his tone that she couldn’t ignore.

  "I know, Henry," repeated Quinlan softly, not encouraging him and not wanting to hurt him. Deep down, under all his bluffing and posturing, he was a good man.

  "Well," said Henry, knowing his bid for a suitor was denied. "You can’t blame a man for trying, can you, Quinlan?"

  Quinlan chuckled. "Good-bye, Henry."

  "Bye. I’ll check on you later."

  "Hang up," Quinlan said, turning over on her stomach. The maid unit disconnected the call. With a sigh, she said to the unit, "Make it menu one tonight."

  Chapter Seven

  Two weeks after Henry called, Quinlan finally made it off her bed, away from her bedroom, and out of her house--as far as the broken water fountain.

  Looking around the quiet garden, she sighed. She rested her head against the hard stone of the fountain’s base as she stared up at the stars. Quinlan frowned at the beautiful night. The old saying wasn’t true. Time did not heal all wounds. Sometimes, time only made them worse.

  "This is no way for a superhero to act."

  Quinlan frowned, her head darting up at the noise to look around. She blinked to make sure her vision was clear. She was alone.

  "Hello?" she called. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as if an endless presence was around her. She could see nothing. "Is someone there?"

  Quinlan’s breath caught in her throat. Right before her eyes a man materialized out of thin air. He was wearing a loose black shirt with a strange symbol on the chest. His dark pants fit snugly to his legs. His long, blonde hair blew in the wind as he watched her from the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Scurrying to her feet, she stood, examining him through her awe. His gaze seemed to laugh good-naturedly at her open-mouthed amazement.

  "Who are you?" she asked carefully. Her jaw hardened at his obvious humor. She was in no mood for the company of cheerful people. "This is private property. You can’t be here."

  "I am like you," the man answered her first question, ignoring her second.

  "You’re a woman beneath your clothes?" she asked, sarcastically.

  "I am gifted," he said. His body glimmered and he disappeared into thin air, only to materialize by her side, his hand on her shoulders.

  Quinlan jumped, jerking away as if stung. "What do you want?"

  "I want to offer you a job," he answered.

  "I’m not interested," she dismissed immediately. "Now go away."

  "That is no way for a lady to treat a guest."

  Quinlan flinched as a woman materialized from a surrounding bush. Her chameleon body mirrored her surroundings, making her move as if she were air. Slowly, her body filled in with a pleasing peach color as she made herself known. She too wore a matching black uniform.

  "Who are you?" Quinlan demanded. Her eyes shifted with purple, as she prepared to fight them.

  "So it is true, Korbin" said the chameleon to the blue-eyed man at her side.

  Korbin nodded. His smile widened.

  "They are the Protectors," answered a third voice. Quinlan turned. A third man walked up to her, his blue skin glimmering beneath silver flowing robes. His white hair parted down the center and hung nearly to his feet. Blinking, Quinlan saw that his eyes were so light a blue they were nearly white. "And I am the oracle who guides them."

  Quinlan glanced at the man and woman at her side. They bowed before the oracle. Quinlan nodded her head in suit, but as she did so, she took a hesitant step away from them.

  "How many of you are there?" she asked, looking around in fright.

  "Show yourselves," ordered the oracle.

  Quinlan tensed. It was like superheroes rained from the sky. All of them were different--some coming from behind trees, some appearing from thin air, some running in a blur to join the group. When nearly twenty of them were before her, their eyes shining, their bodies all clad in black uniforms, she gasped.

  "What are you doing here?" she demanded, worried.

  The group stood to watch as Korbin moved to face her. "It is as I said. We come to offer you a place within our family."

  "But, you don’t know me," Quinlan said. "You...?"

  "We know of you," said the oracle. "I have looked into the future and have seen the possibility of your deeds. I have looked into your past and have seen what you have done, never asking for praise or reward. The only thing clouded is your present. You have a choice to make."

  "Choice?" she asked, her strength leaving her as she grew weary. "What choice?"

  "You can continue to pine for your lost love," said the oracle. His eyes shifted to complete white as he read her. "Or you can become an immortal, dedicating your years into doing that which you have already begun--helping the world be rid of evil forces."

  "There is a battle," explained Korbin. "It’s good against evil. We’d like you to join us. Help us keep the scales tipped for the side of good. It is what your father was working on when he died. It is what he intended his formula to be used for."

  Quinlan began to shake her head, wishing she could deny their words. She could read the truth in their eyes, feel it in her. To become an immortal would mean she’d spend an eternity of her years longing for something she could never have--Nikandros.

  "Yes, Silk," said the oracle. "It will not be an easy task. You will lose much. You will sacrifice many things. The years will eat at you until you no longer know why you do it. But, in the end, you will make a difference. You’re father’s gift to you will not have been in vain."

  Quinlan swallowed.

  "The moon wanes, Silk," said the oracle. "I need an answer. We will not ask you this again."

  Quinlan looked around her. They were offering her an endless lifetime of serving others, of living alone as she did now. Seeing their faces, she knew she’d have them as her family. But, they were strangers. She started to shake her head, but something deep inside her stopped her. She thought of her father. She could not let his last scientific discovery go to waste.

 
"Yes," she said. Without Nikandros, she didn’t have anything else to live for anyway.

  The oracle smiled. "Come to me."

  She stepped forward, glancing nervously around.

  The oracle placed a blue hand on her cheek. His eyes darkened in their blue. "I give you the gift."

  Quinlan tensed. He leaned over to kiss her and a soft mist drew out of his lips, coming inside her. She felt her limbs strengthen with a great force. She felt the knowledge of old being passed into her, teaching her of her duty, forcing an oath of loyalty from her mind. His lips were soft and passionless against her. She closed her eyes to his brightness. In the next instant, the lips were gone.

  Quinlan blinked. The yard was empty.

  "Welcome," came a voice from behind her.

  Quinlan jolted, turning to look at Korbin. He was the only one left with her. She swallowed, a little frightened by what had just happened.

  "What now?" she whispered, feeling very strange.

  Korbin merely smiled, motioning over her shoulder as he disappeared into thin air.

  Quinlan turned. Her limbs shook as a soft mist began to travel over the yard. She held very still, watching it gather as it drew before her. The mist rose, forming into a man.

  "Nick?" she breathed, seeing his face. "What ... how?"

  "Quinlan," he smiled, reaching for her.

  Tears entered her eyes and she backed away. "You can’t be here, Nick. You have to go."

  "I can’t be anywhere else," he whispered.

  "What’s going on? Who are you? What are you?" she demanded, shaking. This was all too much. Her eyes took him in, telling her that he was very real. But she couldn’t go to him. She was afraid he would disappear from her like a dream, as he did every morning when she awoke.

  "I am an immortal," Nikandros said, his eyes slowly drifting to red as he looked at her. "Nearly five hundred years ago I was born human, like the others. My town was attacked by a vampire. I fought him and was bitten. Before I turned, I killed him. The oracle found me and gave me the same choice he gave you."

  "You’re a vampire?" she asked weakly. "But, I’ve seen you in sunlight."