by L. S. O'Dea
“I thought you wanted me to lead your armies, not work in the lab.”
“I want you alive.” Jackson glanced at Barney. “I’m serious, Hugh. You don’t want to be indebted to Meesus.”
“Too late. I already agreed.” He leaned forward. “Now, I need all the information that I can get on Meesus and her daughter.” He turned toward Matilda who’d sat back down next to Barney. “Do you know who sold the girl the first time?”
“I can’t say for sure.” Matilda’s eyes were hard and wary.
“Okay. Who do you think sold her or who did Meesus belong to when she gave birth?”
“I’ve told you all that I know. If you want any more information about the past, you’ll need to ask Meesus. I don’t gossip.”
She knew more than she was saying. He’d have to visit again soon. He needed as much information as possible because he didn’t trust Meesus.
“We need to get going.” Jackson stood. “If we hurry, we can make it to the Crossings before dark.”
“Nonsense,” said Barney. “Rest here tonight. Leave before first light.”
“Thanks,” said Jackson. “I didn’t want to ask.”
“I think we should go. It’s still light outside and I need to talk to Sue and Laddie.” He didn’t have time to rest. Laddie wasn’t doing well.
“We’d have to move fast and hope we weren’t delayed for any reason,” said Jackson.
“Stay the night. You can make up the time in the morning. Tim left the canoe here,” said Barney.
“Great. We’ll be back at camp in no time traveling by water,” said Jackson.
“Can’t we take the canoe now?”
“River-Men are more active at night.” Jackson’s face paled.
“Oh. Okay.” He’d love to study one those creatures in his lab, but if that wasn’t possible then he could live his entire life never seeing one again.
“Good. It’s settled.” Matilda started gathering the dishes. The men stood to help but she stopped them. “I’ve got this. You three catch up.”
“Thank you for the food and letting us stay,” he said.
“Of course and please excuse me for a moment.” Barney stood, took the dishes from his mate and the two left the room.
Hugh leaned back in his chair. A small part of him was glad that they weren’t leaving tonight. He was tired. Bone-weary. He’d spouted that he was no longer High Hugh Truent, but he’d never thought that he was no longer Hugh Truent. He had no idea who or what he was. “I might not be pure Almighty.”
“Do you really think so?” Jackson looked him up and down. “You don’t look like a mix and your sense of smell—”
“I know.” His ego couldn’t take any more abuse. “Believe me, Trinity told me how useless my senses were. Over and over and over again.”
“She can be a bit blunt.” Jackson grinned.
“A bit. That’s like saying a Stocker can be a bit brutal.”
Jackson laughed. “She’s honest. You gotta give her that.”
“I never thought there was such a thing as too honest, until I spent a day with her.”
“She’s a good kid.” Jackson’s face was serious.
“I know and I’m worried about her. She thinks she knows everything. She needs to realize that she isn’t invincible.”
“Are we talking about her or you?”
“Her. I know my weaknesses. She doesn’t think she has any. I swear, she was irritating before but now...” He sighed. “I guess I’m not used to teenagers.”
“She’s twenty-one, not a girl anymore.” Jackson studied him closely. “I’m surprised you didn’t see that.”
“She acts like a child.” Like a brat was a better term but she was Tim’s daughter and Jackson’s friend. He’d keep that opinion to himself.
“I suppose a little. She’s still young...and pretty.” Jackson’s eyes met his. “I’m sure you noticed that.”
“Yeah, of course. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing.” Jackson fought a smile. “Interesting, that you aren’t related to her either. You’ve known that for a while now, huh?”
“You can’t be implying...” He shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. She’s a child and Tim’s daughter.” Not to mention, the most annoying creature on the planet. He was not attracted to her.
“She’s only about ten years younger than you and she is a beautiful female.”
“Stop. Okay.” He wasn’t in the mood for the Guard’s jokes.
Barney came back into the room with a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. “Since you’re staying.”
“I was telling Jackson that I might not be pure Almighty.” He sent the Guard a warning look. All talk of Trinity was done. Jackson grinned at him.
“Really?” Barney stopped. “You used your blood to test for similarities in the classes.”
Jackson’s smile fled. “Then we might not be related to Almightys after all?”
“Hold on. Don’t start getting paranoid. I did use my blood but I also used some from the university the night...Mom died. Don’t worry. My tests did and will prove that all the classes are genetically related if we go far enough down the family tree.”
Barney let out his breath and sat, filling the glasses and sliding two of them across the table. “That’s good because that truth is the basis for our war.”
“The genetics shouldn’t matter. The other classes deserve equal treatment.”
“That’s why we like you Hugh and the Almightys hate you.” Jackson took a small sip of his drink.
He shrugged. “It’s true.”
“Yes, it is but most of the Almightys who support the AC do so because of your claims, but enough of war. I’m sure you have a ton of questions about what’s changed while you’ve been locked away,” said Barney.
Changed was an understatement. He’d been released into a new world. Before, he’ been confused on where Hugh Truent the son of General and Sarah Truent had fit in and now, he had no idea where orphan Hugh belonged, but at least he was finally free of the General’s DNA.
CHAPTER 18: TRINITY
IT WAS EARLY MORNING WHEN Trinity and her dad arrived at camp. They’d taken an entire day leaving false tracks in the forest to throw off any potential followers.
“Doesn’t look like Hugh and Jackson made it back yet,” said Dad.
“Why is Hugh even coming here if he isn’t going to help us? We don’t need another mouth to feed.” She should’ve known better than to put her hope in an Almighty. Except for Kim, they were all jerks who only thought of themselves.
“Be nice.” Dad kissed her on the forehead. “Hugh will come around. He’ll fight it but in the end he’ll do the right thing. He always does.” He smiled at his memories. “He can’t seem to help himself. Even when he was a kid and did something wrong, he’d eventually tell on himself.”
She dug her claws into her palm. Losing her temper wouldn’t help. “He’s not the same person as before. He’s changed and not for the better. You heard him at Ray’s. He has no intention of doing anything but running his experiments which isn’t going to help anything but his reputation.”
“Have a little faith in him. He’s had a rough couple of years, but he’ll come around.” Dad nudged her shoulder with his. “Come with me to see your mom and Arthur.”
She loved her mother and baby brother but being around them was difficult. After being forced to hide the House Servant part of her nature while growing up, she couldn’t stomach watching them brag about Arthur’s claws and how good he was at climbing trees. Apparently, he was an expert for a one year old.
“Your mother would love to see you,” prodded Dad.
“I should check on Cack. I want to make sure he made it back safe.” That’d take an entire three minutes. She had to stop spitting out the first thing that came to mind.
“Cack is fine.” Dad nodded and waved. “He’s right over there with the other Grunts.”
Great. Not even three minutes. She didn’t wan
t to hurt her father. For some reason, forgiving him had been easy. Maybe, it was because he hadn’t lived at the encampment and hadn’t seen how hiding half of her nature had hurt her. Or maybe it was because he appreciated and respected her abilities whereas all she and Mom did was fight. Everything she did upset her mother. Mom didn’t want her hanging out with Gaar and Mirra. Mom thought she flirted too much. Mom wanted her mated to some older Producer who’d keep her in line and that was not going to happen.
“So, are you coming with me to see your mother?”
“I’d love to. I would, but I want to see Curtis first. Make sure he doesn’t need anything.” She tried not to flinch at the disappointment in his eyes.
“Next time.” Dad put on a false smile.
“Yeah, next time,” she lied. It was what they did. There was no reason to stop now. Her entire life before escaping had been a lie. Deep down she understood that everything her parents had done had been to protect her, but the wounds remained. Not the physical pains from the filing down of her claws and fangs, but the emotional ones of feeling inferior and believing that she’d disappointed them by taking after her father.
“Come by for dinner later this week.” Dad kissed her cheek and left.
Her heart twisted as he walked away. He’d just learned that the woman who he’d loved and had thought was his mother wasn’t and he hadn’t said a word about it the entire trip home. Dad griped and grumbled about everything, except what really bothered him. Visiting Mom would make him happy and it wouldn’t kill her. She opened her mouth to call him back, but the words wouldn’t come out. Life in the encampment had forged a gulley between her and her mother that she didn’t know how to cross. She’d go to see Mom later. She snorted. Now, she was even lying to herself.
She headed for the infirmary, glancing away as she walked past the Producer section of the camp. Most of them feared her and called her a predator behind her back. She was pretty sure that Mirabelle was the main reason the others distrusted her, because they didn’t fear the other House Servants. Of course, the other Servants were charming and that was one trait she hadn’t inherited from her father.
She cut through the brush, passing under a group of Servants who sat in a tree. They didn’t like her either. They hated that a mix breed was faster, stronger, and stealthier than any of them. Some of the males flirted with her, but as soon as they realized she was superior to them in hunting or fighting they lost interest. The females didn’t give her a chance. The younger ones didn’t like the attention she got from the males and the older ones just didn’t like her.
The Guards had the same issues with her that the Servants did with the added detriment of her being part House Servant. That left the Grunts. They tolerated her, but kept to themselves. All the classes chose to stay with their own kind and she didn’t fit in with any of them.
She entered a large tent on the far side of the camp. Curtis and a middle-aged, male Producer were lying on cots.
Curtis smiled at her, putting his finger to his lips and nodding at the Producer. “Trunk is sleeping.”
“Thank Araldo for that,” she whispered.
Trunk was a brute of a Producer who solved all his problems with his fists. She hadn’t been happy when he’d agreed to leave the encampment and join them.
Curtis winced as he used his bandaged hands to push himself up off the mattress.
“Don’t get up.” She sat next to him on the cot.
“Keep me company and I’ll stay here forever.” He let her push him back down on the bed, his brown eyes shining up at her.
“How are you feeling?” She ignored his flirting, but she appreciated it.
“Good. I’ll be up and about in no time.”
She glanced down at his bandaged knee. The wrappings were discolored from the poisons draining from his burns.
“It looks worse than it is. Your mom is using a mixture of herbs. Stings like crazy at first but then it grows numb.”
“As it heals the stinging will lessen.” She should help Mom with the sick, but that would mean spending a lot of time with her mother and she just couldn’t do it.
Curtis ran his one finger that wasn’t encased in gauze across her knuckles. She straightened the sheet on the bed, moving her hand from his touch. She liked talking to him, but she didn’t have those kind of feelings for him or anyone. The only one she’d been attracted to like a mate had been Jethro and she hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the Night of the Trackers.
“Do you need anything?” she asked. Curtis was cute and friendly. Maybe, those feelings would develop if she gave him a chance. She needed to accept that Jethro would never be her mate.
“Nah, just company. How did the rest of the trip go? Is Hugh safe?”
Safe in a whore’s bed. “He’s fine.” She couldn’t keep the distaste from her voice.
“Whoa, what did he do to piss you off?”
“Nothing.” Besides embarrassing her in front of everyone because she hadn’t washed her hands and leaving to mate with two Servants.
“Tell me.” He poked her waist with his finger. “I’m dying of boredom in here.”
It wouldn’t hurt to have someone else on her side. Ever since his imprisonment, Dad had elevated Hugh to almost godlike stature. In Dad’s eyes, the Almighty could do no wrong. “He...he went with two of Ray’s girls. Two!”
Curtis burst out laughing and then sobered at her death-stare, but he couldn’t stop grinning. “Lucky Hugh.”
“You males are all disgusting.” This wasn’t going the way she’d wanted. “He also refused to help us.”
That wiped the grin off Curtis’ face. “Really? Why?”
“Said he’d be of more use in a lab than helping us fight.”
“Maybe, he’s right.”
“He’s not, but I’m done talking about him.” She stood.
“Don’t be like that.” He patted the bed with his elbow. “Stay and keep me company. We’ll talk about something else.”
“Like what?” She sat, smiling shyly down at him. Curtis liked her and after years of being laughed at and bullied in the encampment, she enjoyed his attention.
“Come closer and I’ll tell you.” He rubbed her hand with his finger again.
If she did, he was going to try and kiss her. She shook her head but leaned down a little. “Tell me.”
“Trinity, stop teasing that Guard,” snapped Trunk.
She jumped back, having forgotten for a moment that the old Producer was there.
“Go back to sleep and mind your own business,” said Curtis.
“That one doesn’t care a whit about you, Guard. She needs a real male between her le—”
“Shut up.” Curtis pushed up from the cot, grimacing from the pain.
Her face heated. She was vaguely aware of what happened during mating but the males weren’t usually so blunt about it, at least not around her.
“I will not,” shouted Trunk. “That one needs a strong male. A male Producer. One with enough experience to keep her coming home at night. Someone like me!”
Her jaw dropped open. “You’ve always hated me.” He’d been one of the many who’d despised her in camp. Not to mention, he was old enough to be her father and he had a history of beating his mates. She’d kill him or die trying before she’d let him touch her. “I’d never take you for a mate.”
Trunk’s eyes roamed her body, lingering on her breasts. “Come over here and we’ll see if that smart mouth of yours can learn some new tricks.”
She clamped her teeth together and folded her arms over her chest. The thought of kissing him made her gag.
“Don’t talk to her like that.” Curtis faced Trunk.
“What are you going to do about it?” Trunk sat up.
She stood. If they started to fight, she’d have to stop them and it wouldn’t be easy. Trunk was huge and Curtis was injured. She’d have to be careful not to hurt him. She wasn’t worried about Trunk’s injuries. He’d deserve every cut she’d give h
im.
“I’m going to make you apologize to her.” Curtis flung his legs over the side of the cot, his face contorting with the pain of moving his knee.
“Don’t. It’s okay.” She grabbed his shoulder. “I don’t need an apology.”
“I’m gonna kick your Guard ass across the camp and back.” Trunk stood, his head brushing against the roof of the tent.
“Curtis, don’t you dare, get out of that bed.” Mom stormed into the tent. “And you, Trunk, lie down or leave.”
“He was speaking to Trinity in a way that...wasn’t appropriate.” Curtis pulled his legs back onto the bed.
Mom shot her a glare. Of course, Mom was blaming her for this.
Say, the small, black House Servant who followed Trinity around like a shadow, stood outside the door to the tent. By the guilty look on his face, he must’ve gone to get Mom when Trunk and Curtis started arguing.
“Your girl needs a good mating.” Trunk dropped onto his cot. “That’s why she flaunts it all over camp.”
“I do not do that!” She flirted a little but she did not flaunt...anything.
“She doesn’t do that,” shouted Curtis.
“You, hush.” Mom said to Curtis. “Tammie, calm him down before he opens his wounds.”
The other Producer stood in the doorway not seeming to know if she should come inside or flee. Trinity would’ve told Tammie to flee if she’d seen her friend first. The other Producer sent her a commiserating look and then entered the tent, tucking Curtis back into his bed and checking his bandages.
“Her father and I have been discussing her behavior.” Mom walked over to Trunk.
“What?” Trinity almost shouted.
“Give her to me and I’ll teach her how to behave,” said Trunk. “I’ve brought other females to heel.” He leered at her. “I like ‘em a little wild to start.”
“You can talk about my behavior all you want but I’m not going to bond with someone just because you think it’s the right time.” Her hands trembled at her sides as her claws slipped out from her fingertips. “I don’t belong to anyone anymore. Not Almightys and not you or Dad.”
“Wait for me outside.” Mom’s face was flushed as she turned to Trunk, looking at the wound on his foot. “I can handle my daughter.”