by Carly Fall
Beverly and Killian arrived shortly thereafter, and Hudson took them both in his arms.
Titus glanced around again, wondering where Macy had gone. He finally spotted her in the very back of the throngs of people, near the door. She stared at him questioningly.
He moved through everyone, and she smiled when he reached her.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yes."
She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze and spoke in their native tongue. "Well, may our gods of peace and wisdom watch over you, as well as the humans' Saint Michael."
He bowed his head, feeling the warmth of caring emanating from her. "Thank you, Macy."
"Let's roll, gentlemen!" Noah yelled. "Remember your quadrants, and stay safe out there!"
He piled into a black Yukon with Hudson, Roman, Chase, and Jovan, with Blake driving. Blake turned on Billy Idol, keeping it loud enough that conversation would be impossible. They rode in silence as the desert gave way to the suburbs and the highway went from two lanes to eight.
While they sped past the humans' homes, he wondered what their lives were like. He assumed most had families and worked. Did they feel fear about the murders in their city, or because they lived out in the suburbs, did they even consider it? Most of the killings took place during the night while they were tucked away in their beds, miles from the trouble. One thing he had noticed in his short interactions with the humans was that they seemed very engrossed in their own lives. He'd seen a group of people sitting together at a table in a club. Supposedly, they had been there to talk, dance, and have fun with one another. Instead, they had all been staring at their phones.
Speaking of which ...
He glanced down at the brand new cell phone Blake had shoved in his hand before they left, and remembered when Micah had given one to everyone in the Platoon.
One night, when Micah and Jael had left their home, he and Simon had lain in bed together, playing with the phone and figuring how to work all the features. They’d particularly liked texting and the emojis. They'd made up their own language and had full conversations in emoji characters so no one would ever know what had been said.
"Let's designate the pig as Micah," he'd said to Simon. "That seems fitting."
Simon had laughed and thrown his arm around his stomach, his gaze becoming heated and his hand had traveled downward.
"And what symbol should we use for your cock?" he’d asked as he stroked him. "Perhaps the snake? Maybe the dragon?"
He had groaned and shut his eyes, tossing his phone to the floor. "If you keep that up, the whale will work."
A few months later, they’d caught Micah looking at their phones, and Titus had been grateful Micah had had no idea that most of the text had been about him. He had, however, railed at them for wasting time texting the pig emoji in different situations, like with a gun to its head or a knife to its back.
He wished he and Simon hadn’t been so afraid and uncertain about leaving Micah and striking out by themselves.
"Okay, this is your stop, Hudson," Blake said, bringing him out of his reverie.
Titus looked up to see that they had entered the city and Blake had pulled over on Second Street.
He shoved the phone back in his pocket and exited the car.
"See you ladies in a bit," Blake called as he pulled away from the curb.
"Let's do this." Roman cracked his knuckles, and Titus followed him down the street.
Chapter 10
Macy sat on her bed staring at the wall. Nervousness coiled her stomach as she glanced at her shaking hands.
Titus shouldn't be out with the other Warriors.
She fell back onto the sky blue comforter. Closing her eyes, she stretched her hands above her head as she tried to figure out exactly what she felt.
Her extreme worry went beyond a Healer / patient bond. In retrospect, she should be able to keep her distance. If she considered him ‘just a patient,’ then she would be able to take a step back and let him live his life as he saw fit, yet be there for him if he needed to be healed.
However, her heart palpitated in her chest and sweat formed on her brow. This far exceeded a normal relationship between a patient and a Healer.
"Macy, what is going on?" she whispered.
Self-honesty could be a slippery slope; yet, she’d always been in touch with her feelings. However, it seemed she hadn’t given them consideration in some time, and she realized that she felt more for Titus than she should.
Did she love him?
No ... no, she didn't. However, she definitely cared about the male. She compared her feelings to all the other males she'd healed in her time, and she never worried to this extent about any of them.
Growing up as a Forest Dweller, she had been used to the males taking extreme chances as they bound across three-hundred-foot treetops in the name of survival against the small, carnivorous creatures that lived on the ground. She'd seen plenty of injuries from those males, both from sheer idiocy and real attacks. However, she'd been able to separate herself from them and provide them what they needed.
Now, with Titus, she'd become emotionally involved.
A tear tracked down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away.
She glanced at the clock; it read ten p.m.
She needed a distraction, but who would be up at this time? Sitting up, she left her quarters and entered the elevator when it arrived at her floor.
The silence seemed so oppressive as it lifted her upward, almost as if it someone had placed a wet blanket over her soul.
The panels opened onto the main floor. She entered the small hallway that led into the kitchen from the catch-all rooms.
Abby stood against the counters, sipping from a coffee cup and dressed in an orange robe, the exact same color as Noah’s SR44 color. She glanced up as Macy entered and gave her a sad smile.
Macy grinned, happy to have someone to concentrate on beside herself.
“Is everything okay, Abby?”
She stood next to her and crossed her arms over her chest and wondered if she should have some tea, as well.
“I’m fine. Just worrying.”
She nodded. “About Noah, I assume?”
“Yes.”
“It must be hard to watch your mate go out for the night, especially with a babe in your belly.”
Abby sighed. “I asked him not to go tonight, simply because I have a bad feeling about things, but he insisted. He said he couldn’t send others out and stay home.”
Noah had always been an honorable male in her eyes, and as leader of the Six Saviors, as well as those from Rescue One he’d taken in, he did have an obligation to walk the walk, so to speak.
“He’s our leader, Abby.”
Abby sighed. “I know. Sometimes, I just wish he was only my mate, and nothing else.”
A lone tear trickled down her face, and Macy grabbed her hand. “I don’t blame you. You share a lot of him with others.”
“Thank you for understanding. Sometimes, I just want him for myself, and I feel selfish. But, with the baby coming anytime now, I just want him close.”
“Completely logical,” she said as Abby met her gaze.
Abby had always fascinated her. With Hudson as her father, she was part SR44ian, yet, her eyes didn’t change at night. The same chocolate-colored gaze stared back at her no matter the time.
Macy laid her hand on Abby stomach. “He’ll be back soon, safe and sound, and then you two can lie together and rejoice in your creation.”
Abby grinned. “You have such a magical way of making those around you feel better, Macy. It’s truly a gift.”
She embraced Abby, and then watched as the female stepped into the elevator back to her floor of the main silo.
As she stood in the kitchen alone, her own internal demons moved in. Had she fallen for an unattainable male? One that only loved other males? She thought of his chiseled features, long hair, and pained gaze, and warmth spre
ad throughout her body. No matter how attractive she found him, she needed to squash these feelings before they morphed into something more.
Why had it taken her so long to realize her attraction to Titus? He hadn’t exactly made it easy to like him with his harsh words and actions. Yet, since she’d yelled at him, she’d seen a new side of him, a kinder soul. That combined with him putting himself in danger tonight had caused this conundrum of emotions.
“Oh, Macy. What have you done?”
Chapter 11
Titus walked down the side street sandwiched between Roman and Hudson. They’d been on the move for about two hours and had found nothing worth noting, except the couple getting it on outside the Black Cuff, the two cats doing the same in an alley, and a college kid passed out on the sidewalk. They’d woken him, bought him coffee and pancakes at Denny’s, then put him on the light rail back to the Arizona State University, or ASU.
He had to admit, it felt good to be outside doing something productive instead of sitting in his room buried under a pile of misery. Although it felt as though he struggled with each step, he inhaled the crisp night air, glad he’d made the effort to do something tonight.
“We better check the alleyways again,” Roman mumbled. “Something’s not right.”
“I agree,” Hudson muttered. “Something’s got me feeling like I have bugs under my skin.”
Titus followed them down the narrow pathways in between the high, brick buildings. Muffled voices sounded in his ears, and he could only assume they came from the televisions they could hear through the open windows of the apartments. The only light in the alleyway shone from the very few security lamps that still worked. They weren’t in a good part of town and the hairs on the back of his neck began to tingle.
A cat startled him as it scurried out from under a dumpster. He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart.
Then he heard a strange sound coming from his left.
A window sat open just a couple of inches, and he squinted as he tried to see in through the tinted glass. What had he heard?
A grunt, and a distinct gurgling noise. Furrowing his brow, he tried to remember where he’d heard the sound before. Sweat broke out on his brow, and he stepped closer to the window.
“Let’s go,” Hudson said in a low voice, waving at him to follow.
He shook his head and brought his forefinger to his lips, motioning for silence. What went on in someone’s private apartment shouldn’t concern him, yet his anxiety intensified. If caught breaking and entering, the police would be called, and that would open up a can of crap none of them wanted to deal with. However, the noise he heard had him worried, so he threw caution to the wind and placed his fingers under the window, pulling upward. With a little effort, it rose, and he looked inside.
A male and female stood above someone lying in a bed, the male leaning forward. Titus squinted in the dim light and realized the male had his hands around the person’s neck.
That’s where he’d recognized the sound from—the distinct gurgle of someone being choked to death. He’d heard it before when Micah had murdered a Colonist offspring before they’d aligned with the Colonist, Daniel, to kill the Saviors.
He had no idea what was going on in the apartment. It could be some weird sexual thing the three of them had going on, or could he be witnessing a murder? This could very well be their break if the two attackers were Colonist offspring.
Only one way to find out.
He raised the window all the way, surprised by how quiet it was. Taking two steps back, he launched himself through the air and flew through the open space.
Hudson and Roman cursed outside, and surprise washed over the attackers’ faces. They immediately lunged at him as he rose from the floor, the male taking him back down, his shoulder landing on the old hardwood with a thud.
Making a fist, he slammed it into the assailant’s nose. The distinct crack of a broken bone sounded throughout the apartment, followed by a primal scream of pain. Titus pushed the male off him as the female came at him.
It went against everything in his being to hit a female, but when she brought her knee to his groin, he lashed out and smacked her across on the cheek and pushed her to the ground.
The male got up again, his face a bloody mess. Titus glanced at the victim on the bed. His eyes remained shut, and Titus wondered if he was dead or simply passed out.
The attacker lunged at him again, and he hit him in the stomach, causing him to double over. Titus brought his knee to his face, finally causing the male to crumple to the floor.
He breathed heavy, making sure the male didn’t move.
Hudson crawled through the window and looked around. “What the hell is this all about?”
“These two were trying to kill that guy in the bed.”
“And you know this how?”
“I heard the gurgling of someone being strangled.”
He glanced around the small bedroom while Hudson checked the victim for a pulse.
A small desk had been jammed into the corner and stood littered with magazines and papers. The victim lay in a double bed fully dressed, a small nightstand to the side. Based on that fact the victim wore clothes, he could assume this wasn’t some strange sexual stuff and he had stopped a murder. Hudson picked up a needle and sheet of tin foil from the top of the dresser at the foot of the bed.
“He’s got a pulse, but this is why he’s not waking up.”
“Drugs?”
“Yeah. Nasty shit, let me tell you. This is most likely heroin, the same stuff Blake was addicted to.”
Titus looked at the long cylinder. “Why would anyone want to put a needle in their body?”
Hudson shrugged. “You and I can’t understand it.”
“Where’s Roman?”
“I told him to wait outside to make sure the police weren’t on their way or no one else became interested in the noise from this place.”
He bent down and felt relieved both his attackers breathed, although the male with the broken nose seemed to have a bit of trouble. He pushed him over so he lay on his side.
“So, what do you think we have here?” Hudson asked.
“I’m not sure.”
Hudson stared down at the two on the floor. “I wish there was a way to know if these dirt bags were Colonist offspring.”
Titus sighed. That was the thing about these horrible humans—there simply wasn’t a way to tell if they possessed the Colonist genes. He sensed an interrogation coming on as Hudson picked up the woman and brought her to the window.
“Hey, Roman. Take this piece of shit, would you?”
Chapter 12
A half-hour later, Titus leaned against the sheetrock of an unfinished building waiting for Kermit and Miss Piggy to wake up. Those had been the names they gave the attackers, and Titus made a mental note to check out this thing called The Muppets. He couldn’t imagine a frog and pig in love, but Hudson swore it to be true.
They’d found a few chairs at the construction site among the tools, nails, and wood, and Hudson had guessed the workers used them for lunchtime breaks.
Now, the chairs were being used for holding the attackers.
They each sat in one with their hands tied behind their backs, their heads lulling to the sides. Both seemed to be in their mid-thirties. Dressed in black jeans and black, long-sleeved shirts, it seemed they had definitely coordinated their outfits. Frankly, they dressed in the same manner as him and the other Warriors, so he had to guess they didn’t want to be noticed, just as his crew didn’t. No, these two had wanted to fade into the shadows.
However, what they had stumbled on, he had no idea. He hoped they would prove to be Colonist offspring, but he could have also walked in on a revenge killing, or even a drug dealer evening the score with the user.
They’d left the drug user at his apartment. He had no idea what the male would think when he woke up with his neck bruised and a puddle of blood on his bedroom floor, but it
wasn’t his concern. Perhaps he’d chalk it up to a bad trip.
He found his patience running on low as he waited for Piggy and Kermit to wake, so he took a long sip from his water bottle he’d bought at the local convenience store a few moments ago, then poured the rest over the male’s head. He sputtered, then slowly came awake.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” Hudson said, bending down in front of him so they met eye to eye. “How’re you feeling?”
The man glanced at Hudson, then over at Titus and Roman as confusion crossed his bloody face. “Where am I?”
“Does it really matter now?” Titus asked. “You’re tied to a chair. Who cares where you are?”
Kermit tugged at the duct tape holding his hands together, also purchased at the convenience store. Titus liked the owner, Tim, and appreciated the efficiency of the establishment, but also wondered who else besides him walked into such a place with the intent and need to buy duct tape while picking up a day-old hot dog and a soda.
He and Simon had stopped into the store many times while out in the Phoenix area. Tim had always greeted them with a smile and never questioned their odd purchases, such as duct tape.
“Why are we here?” Kermit asked, glancing over at Piggy.
“Why were you trying to kill that male back there?” Hudson asked.
“It’s none of your business.”
Titus studied the man. He’d moved quickly at the apartment, so Titus guessed he probably had some type of martial arts training. Also, the man had a slim frame, but wiry and muscular. Purple rings were appearing around his brown eyes, but that’s what happened with a freshly broken nose. He winced as he noticed the way it slanted to the right. It wouldn’t be any fun getting that thing back where it should be.
“I made it my business,” Titus said, stepping up to the man and giving his nose a small flick. “So now, you tell us what we want to know, or my friend over here is going to break more than just your nose.”
Kermit grimaced at his touch, and before Titus could see it coming, he leaned forward and head-butted Hudson, who still rested on his haunches in front of the male.