by Sandy James
Air. There was no air.
The irony almost brought a smile to her lips.
She wanted to ask Zach if he was okay, to be sure the shock wave hadn’t hit him too. When she tried to lift her left arm so she could touch him, it wouldn’t obey. She couldn’t hear anything except the whoosh-whoosh of her own heartbeat echoing in her ears as the world changed to swirling gray and then black.
* * *
Zach felt jerked in two directions—he wanted to get Gina the hell out of there, and he wanted to kill the SOG who hurt her. He would strangle the bastard with his bare hands if he had to. The choice was taken away from him when Artair shoved his long knife into the SOG’s back before he spun the SOG around and buried the same knife in his heart. The SOG had to be dead before he hit the floor.
Zach twisted, trying to move Gina’s still form off so he could pick her up. She’d landed on top of him and all six feet of her sprawled over his body. He knew what she’d done—how she’d shielded him. Her left arm was clearly broken. The bone wasn’t sticking through the skin, but her forearm was bent at an odd angle. Her breath came in gasps that told him at the very least some ribs were broken. She needed Sarita.
Richard grabbed her up in his arms before Zach could stop him. “We don’t need him now. I’ve got Gina. Get us out of here, Helen.”
Scrambling to his feet, Zach tried to charge Richard, who hurried to the blonde. Before Zach could stumble over the bodies of the now dead SOGs, the woman snapped her fingers and she, Richard and Gina disappeared.
“No,” he whispered. “No, please, not Gina.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Where’d they take Gina?” Zach demanded.
The fact Artair was calmly wiping the blood off his knife with one of the dead SOG’s shirts pissed him off. Didn’t he understand? Gina was gone. They had to go after her.
“What was Richard doing with those damned SOGs? Who was that woman?”
“He’s back in league with his brothers.” Johann tucked his dagger back into the holster strapped to his leg and slid his pants leg back over it.
Their utter calm only made Zach’s fury rise.
“Aye,” Artair added. “And with Helen.”
“I need to know what happened to Gina.” Zach was sick and tired of being on the outside looking in. The time had come to get some answers. “Who in the hell is Helen anyway?”
“Later,” Artair replied. “We have a job to do.”
“A job to—” Was he nuts? As if Zach could think about anything else but what was happening to Gina. She’d been hurt. She might be dying. Whatever that SOG had hit her with was a hell of a lot stronger than an electric shock. “I’m going after Gina.”
Artair put a steadying hand on Zach’s shoulder. “Nay, lad. Where they took her, we can’t follow. You have a task to do. Then we go back to Avalon and make plans to rescue Gina.”
Zach would have brushed the Scot’s hand away if Artair’s fingers weren’t digging into his shoulder. “But Gina—”
Johann interrupted. “If you don’t do your job, Gina and the rest of the world will die. We’ll rescue her. But right now, you’ve got to make sure those Toys are of no use to Sekhmet. If we don’t do that, Gina’s sacrifice to protect you means nothing. Once you destroy those Toys, we’ll regroup at Avalon. The Amazons will go after their sister. We need to keep you out of the line of fire.”
“But—but—” He hated that their arguments made sense. Closing his mouth, he tried to decide if he could tamp down his anger and fear long enough to get the virus planted.
With a huff, he went back to the computer.
A few more seconds. He’d just needed a few more seconds, and then they all would have been out of there.
But they weren’t all leaving now.
He’d never forgive himself.
Zach could barely concentrate on the task at hand. Gina needed him. And here he was, working on a fucking computer. Watching the virus upload after his last keystroke, he wanted to yell for it to hurry. As always, technology took all the precious time it needed.
After the upload completed, he jerked his memory stick from the CPU and shoved it in his pocket. “Done.”
Johann nodded when someone suddenly started pounding on the door they’d locked behind them. “Shit. Looks like we need another exit plan.”
“Shall you call or shall I?” Artair asked, a tad too calmly for Zach’s peace of mind.
Panic was rising in him, threatening to drown him, while neither Sentinel seemed remotely concerned. Zach wasn’t worried about being caught. His DOD contacts would protect him if he was taken into custody, but he’d waste precious time explaining who Artair and Johann were, let alone dealing with the reasons for the two dead SOGs. He didn’t have time to screw around with some Pentagon idiots when Gina was in the hands of the enemy.
“Doesn’t matter,” Johann replied. “Let’s just get out of here.”
“Rhiannon!” Artair called. “M’lady, we are in dire need of your help.”
Before Zach could ask what kind of help Artair was asking for, he found himself in the middle of Avalon. Dizziness made his head throb, and it took a couple of minutes until the world stopped swirling around him.
“Damn, I hate that.” Johann rubbed his hand over his face. His clothes had changed from dress blues to his more typical pressed trousers and oxford shirt.
Artair seemed to have taken the trip with his usual composure, although he grunted and adjusted the shirt and plaid he now wore until it met his satisfaction. “We have work to do.”
Zach’s uniform had been replaced with khakis and a cotton polo. At least the dizziness was ebbing, but the panic over Gina’s fate remained.
Artair turned toward one of the Cape Cod houses that seemed so horribly out of place in the rustic camp. “Beagan! Dolan!” His bellows echoed through the compound.
Johann rolled his eyes. “Subtle as ever, Artair.”
Two brown rabbits hopped at a furious rate toward where the men stood. They skidded to a stop and morphed into Beagan and Dolan. Although he’d seen the transformation once before, Zach wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it.
“Send a message to Becca and Megan,” Artair ordered. “They must return. And then you watch over the children. We shall be in the lodge. Send Sarita to us there.”
“What are they?” Zach asked Artair as Beagan and Dolan hurried away.
“Changelings,” Artair replied. “The last of their kind.”
“What can they change into?”
“Rabbits, mostly,” Johann replied. “I think that’s the form they’re most comfortable in.” He tilted his head at Artair. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen them shift into anything else. Have you?”
“Aye. You don’t wish to know what they can become if need be.”
As if Zach had ever been able to curb his curiosity. “What can they become?”
Artair shook his stubborn Scottish head. “They shall tell you should they wish you to know their secrets. Now, we need to plan our rescue.”
* * *
With her arm and her side throbbing incessantly, it took a long time for Gina’s head to clear.
She’d been in a fight, but remembering details wasn’t easy. She opened her eyes to mere slits so she wouldn’t alert anyone that she’d regained consciousness.
Nothing looked familiar. Walls of hewn logs. Windows with the orange glow of the sun streaming through. At least she rested on a soft bed.
Rolling from her back to her side, she used her right arm to push herself to a sitting position. Not an easy task. Not a pain-free one, either. By the time she sat on the edge of her tiny cot, she could barely breathe and only in short gasps. If she tried to inhale any deeper, stabbing pains shot through her ribcage.
Finding enough courage to take a look at her injured forearm, she was surprised to find it bound in a crude splint—just two straight pieces of wood held on by shoelaces. From the interesting kaleidoscope of colors o
n her skin—purples and blues and reds—her arm was broken. She flexed her fingers a few times to make sure she had good circulation. If she could draw a breath, she would have sighed in relief when they wiggled.
“She’s awake.” The throaty, feminine voice came from across the cabin.
Memories came flooding back—memories not only of the attack at the Department of Defense, but of when Gina had faced the person to whom that voice belonged.
“Helen,” Gina whispered as the blonde came strolling across the room.
“Ah, so you remember.” Helen’s fake smile grated on Gina’s already frayed nerves. So did Helen’s arrogant choice to dress in medieval gowns as if she were the equal of Rhiannon or Freya. “I’m flattered. We saw so little of each other at our last encounter.”
“Last—battle,” Gina replied taking quick, panting breaths and sounding like an asthmatic having an attack.
“Easy, Gina,” a familiar male voice cautioned. “You’ve got some broken ribs.”
She’d kick his ass if she’d had the strength. “Richard.”
He strode out of the shadows to stand close to her. “You doin’ okay?”
Gina fixed her face into her best I’m-gonna-flay-you-alive glare.
How could he betray them? After everything he’d gone through to tell the Amazons about Sekhmet’s threat, how could he double cross them all?
Richard stood by her bedside. “Gina...”
She wanted to shout at him but couldn’t muster the air. She closed her eyes and bowed her head, giving it a shake to tell him he’d put them on different paths now. Their friendship was over.
Richard’s fingers brushed her cheek before he cupped her chin and forced her to look up at him. “It’s not what you think.”
Gina wanted to slap his hand away, but all she did was keep a steady glare aimed at him. Not what she thought? Then what in the hell was he doing with Helen?
“I didn’t betray you.”
Bullshit. Her throat ached from how badly she wanted to scream. With a slight turn of her head, she nodded at Helen.
Richard forced her to look at him again. Before she realized what he intended, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers.
She wiped her lips against her shoulder.
Helen’s laughter was the final straw.
Gina jumped to her feet, ready to dish out some payback for all of Helen’s crimes. Wooziness swept over her so fast, she had to fight to stay upright. The swaying of the room made her wonder if she would pass out or throw up—perhaps both if the world didn’t right itself soon.
Just when she’d become convinced she was going to collapse on the floor, Richard swept her up into his arms and cradled her against him. He went to the trouble to keep her injured arm protected, but his touch made her skin crawl. If she’d had the energy, she would’ve leapt back to the ground.
He rubbed his chin on the top of her head. “C’mon, honey. Let me explain.”
“You son...of a bitch.” Her insult was nothing more than raspy whispers, so she lifted her head to bump his chin, hoping he bit his tongue.
Richard sat down on the bed with her firmly on his lap. Then he gave her a squeeze. “I—I love you, Gina.”
Helen laughed again.
“Give us a few minutes,” he snapped.
“She’ll never believe you, you know. I warned you.” Helen was clearly enjoying having an Amazon at her mercy.
When she was whole again, Gina vowed to punch the condescending smirk right off the bitch’s face.
“Amazons see everything as if they have a pair of blinders on. Everything is black or white. Right or wrong. Good or evil. No shades of gray with these women.”
I know betrayal when I see it.
As if she’d sensed Gina’s thoughts, Helen clucked her tongue. “Yes, always believing there is only one solution to a problem. Ah, sweet Gina. Life is not nearly that simple.”
“You killed—Sparks. You almost—got Johann and—Megan killed.” Not to mention she’d killed Artair before Rebecca resurrected him.
While Gina wanted to shout her anger, she regretted the deep breaths she’d taken to quietly berate Helen. Her chest burned. How many ribs had that thrower broken? It would be days before she could fight again.
Richard tried to kiss her forehead.
She turned her face away so his lips brushed her temple instead.
“Shh, honey. You’re hurt.”
You call me your damn “honey” one more time...
Pain or not, she’d reached her fill.
Gina thrashed around to get Richard to release her. His arms might as well have been made of steel. All she managed to do was hit her broken arm against his shoulder. The pain made her dizzy again, but she bit her lip to keep from crying out.
“Stop it, Gina. You need to listen to me.” She started struggling again.
“Damn it, you’re going to hurt yourself.”
To her shame, she didn’t have the strength to fight him anymore. Her body sagged against him as hatred coursed from every pore. If only she could make fire erupt from her hands like Megan so she could fry his sorry ass.
She’d never thought she’d feel that way about Richard. He’d been her friend, one of the few she’d had in her life. They’d faced danger together. He’d even saved her life when she’d faced a demon who got the drop on her. The pain of his betrayal hurt worse than the pain of her injuries.
“Why?” she squeaked out.
“Oh, Gina. I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong.” He looked up at Helen again and scowled. “I mean it. Leave us alone.”
“Not long, Richard,” Helen replied. “Sekhmet will grow suspicious. You haven’t entirely regained her trust. I’m not sure you ever will.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Fine.” Her dismissive wave of her hand reminded Gina so much of Rhiannon, she got chills. “Talk to your friend. I’ll give you some privacy.”
He’s not my friend anymore, you psycho bitch.
Helen walked to the cabin’s door before she stopped and glanced back over her shoulder. “Don’t be like the others, Gina. Richard says you’re smarter than your sisters. Keep an open mind.” With those words of wisdom, Helen left.
“Are you okay?” Richard asked.
Okay? I feel like I’m dying.
I want Sarita.
I want Zach.
“Fine,” she snapped, feeling helpless.
“I didn’t betray you. I left to protect you.”
Yeah, right.
She didn’t want to hear any of what he had to say. Unfortunately, she remained his captive. Whether she liked it or not, she didn’t have the strength to fight him. She shook her head, wishing she could shut her ears as easily as her eyes.
“I left to keep you from getting hurt again.”
Yeah? Well, the broken arm and some fractured ribs tell me otherwise.
A small snort was all she could manage.
“I know how it looks, hon—”
She shot him a scorching glare.
“Fine. Gina. Look, I know you’re hurt. I tried to stop my brother. Sekhmet made us... I didn’t want you to be there. You weren’t supposed to be there, damn it. Artair told me... When we were planning it, he said no women. No Amazons.”
Despite her anger, her curiosity continued to bubble to the surface. “Helen?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Seeing her had to be a shock. I figured I needed to fight fire with fire. I wanted an Ancient to defeat Sekhmet.”
What Gina wanted more than anything was to breathe. So many questions and no air to ask them. “Sekhmet?”
“I left to kill Sekhmet so you wouldn’t have to. I recruited Helen to help me. If we want to bury Sekhmet in the desert again, it’s going to take some serious muscle—more muscle than the Amazons have.”
More muscle than the Amazons? Nice to know he had so little faith in her and her sisters. He had no idea what the four of them could do, especia
lly when they were together. And he’d forgotten their four important allies.
She took a deep breath, wanting to give him a blistering lecture. All she could muster of his opinion of their lack of muscle was one word. “Goddesses.”
“They won’t help and you damn well know it.”
The goddesses might help this time.
Oh, who in the hell was she kidding? They got all pissy and acted like they were sacrificing their own lives when an Amazon asked for something as easy as to be popped someplace for a mission. They wouldn’t raise a finger to stop Sekhmet. No, they’d leave the future of mankind to the Fates. As usual.
Sekhmet was the worst threat the Amazons had ever faced. The Destructor wouldn’t be easy to put back in her sandy tomb. But why in the hell had Richard gone to that bitch Helen? He had to know how she and her sisters would react.
“Not—her.”
“Yes, her. Who would be better? Helen wants to rule the human race so desperately, she’d do anything to protect them—even going up against the Destructor. If Sekhmet succeeds, Helen would have no one left to worship her. She’s the best Ancient for the job.”
Only one word came to Gina’s mind. “Scorpion.”
“I beg your pardon?”
How could he not know what she was talking about? He’d spent enough time training with Artair to have heard the story meant to serve as a warning. Gina tried again. “Scor—pion.”
Helen’s laughter filled the cabin. “Oh, Gina. Please tell me that Artair has at least updated his silly parables. As I recall, that was one of his favorites. I heard it ad nauseum when I was training, as if somehow he knew that story would apply to me.” She laughed again, the sound full of smugness and arrogance. “So, Gina, tell me. Are you calling me the scorpion? Or am I the fox?”
“I don’t understand,” Richard said.
Helen came to the foot of the bed. “An old tale. A fable, you might say, told by many cultures to caution their children. Told by a Sentinel to teach his Amazons.”
“What fable?”
She placed a finger against her cheek as she thought aloud. “Let’s see if I can remember it correctly... Ah, yes. A scorpion and a fox stand together on the banks of a swollen river. The scorpion asks a fox to let him ride on his back as he swims across. The fox tells the scorpion he doesn’t trust him, that the scorpion will sting him before they reach the far shore if he lets him ride. The scorpion assures the fox that he won’t sting him because if he did, they would both drown.”