Invidious Betrayal

by Shea Swain

  When her fingers traced his lips, she felt them stretch into a smile.

  “How do you feel?” Ian asked her after kissing her fingertips. He stood.

  How do I feel?

  She thought about it for a moment. She didn’t feel weak or tired. Her arms and eyelids no longer felt heavy, and the baby…their baby was moving around inside her. “I feel…good,” she answered honestly. Aria’s eyes lit up when he smiled at her. Grinning, she watched him lean over her until they were so close she had no choice but to let him kiss her. When he backed away, she asked, “Is everything all right now between your uncle and me?”

  The air in the room seemed to get heavy as Ian’s eyes darkened. “Do you think you’re well enough to travel?”

  Aria sat up. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” She watched as Ian visibly struggled with whatever it was that had him so upset. She didn’t think he was going to tell her and she was okay with that, but he closed his eyes and sighed.

  “Vincent is my father, Aria. My dad had cancer and was sterile, so he and my mom asked Vincent to be a donor. They agreed to never tell anyone what they’d done.”

  “Oh, Ian.” Aria’s face was full of concern as she caressed his cheek. “I’m sorry they kept that from you.”

  “I’m sorry, too”—he laid his hand over hers—“and I don’t want you worrying about me. Once I get you home if you want to talk about it we can, but for now I’d like to forget I even know the truth.”

  She nodded even though she wanted to know more about what was going on. But Ian would never push her for information; she would give him the same respect. “Home then,” Aria said, pushing away the sheets that covered her. Ian backed up to give her space as she dropped her feet over the side of the bed. He took her hand and braced her arm so she could stand. He must have thought she was too weak to get to her feet on her own, but she wasn’t. She really did feel great, surprisingly so.

  Ian helped her to the bathroom, still holding her hand while she tried to keep the hospital-like gown closed over her backside. She was shutting the bathroom door when she realized she had nothing to wear, but Ian handed her a bag. Aria gave his chest a slight push, blew him a kiss then closed the door for privacy. She didn’t know how he always knew what she needed and when, but she was grateful.

  Aria desperately wanted to take a shower, but her desire to be free of this place as quickly as possible was stronger. She didn’t know what the arrangements were and she didn’t want to know as long as they could leave and never have to worry about being hunted again. She would feel better when she and Ian were gone from here.

  With that in mind, she took a hobo’s bath, combed her hair, and tied her long tresses in a loose knot. When Aria stepped out of the bathroom and into the room, Ian and a man who she assumed to be one of the armed guards, who was dressed in all black tactical gear, were talking in hushed voices.

  They turned to acknowledge her at the same time, but Aria kept her eyes on the guard. He looked young, maybe mid-twenties. He was a little taller than Ian with a very close cut. His skin was a smooth brown that was practically flawless, other than a three-inch cut that was still healing above his right brow. He was thicker, more muscled than Ian.

  “I’m Brandon,” he said. His voice was calm, but his body language was tense.

  “He’s a friend,” Ian explained.

  Something was wrong. She could tell by the way Ian’s gray eyes had darkened. She automatically looked up on the wall behind the guys, at the video camera she had noticed earlier. It was gone now. She tried to remain calm and gave Brandon a smile as she slowly lifted her hand to shake his.

  “Hello, I’m Aria,” she said. Brandon’s dark eyes quickly peered at her, then back to Ian a couple of times before his full lips curled into a semi smile.

  He shook her hand, gave Ian another look, frowned, then shrugged. “All right,” he said, pulling the bullet proof vest he wore over his head and stepping up beside her. She didn’t get a chance to ask what he was doing before he slid the vest over her head and began strapping her up.

  “Look Brandon, I appreciate that you want to help but—” Ian said, as he moved to strap the other side of the vest.

  Brandon pulled a gun from someplace on his body and checked the clip. “If you’re going to get Aria out of here, you’re going to need all the help you can get,” Brandon said, as he looked down at her. “Do you know how to use this?”

  Her mouth had dried up at some point because she wasn’t able to say a word, so she just nodded. Brandon put the gun in her hand, then took another one out and held it out to Ian.

  “You keep it,” Ian said confidently. “I have my own weapons.” Brandon nodded then walked to the door. She must have looked panicked because Ian gently cupped her face in his hands. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He gave her a quick kiss.

  Again, all she could do was nod.

  “We need to move now. I’m not sure how long it’s going to take them to un-jam those doors or the elevator, but I’m guessing it won’t be long,” Brandon said, as he held the door open.

  Ian grabbed her hand, pulling Aria past Brandon, who had his gun drawn and ready to shoot if necessary. “Stay between us,” Ian ordered.

  Aria grabbed his forearm. “I love you,” she said, with a shaky voice. God, I thought this was over.

  Ian lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles as he moved through the doorway. “As much as I love to hear those words, I don’t ever want to hear you say them with fear in your voice. This isn’t the end. I’m not losing you, and I’m not dying today, so no goodbyes, okay?”

  “Okay.” She managed a smile.

  “There’s a stairway to the left at the end of the corridor that we can use, but we won’t be the only ones with access to it,” Brandon said from behind her.

  They led her down a long hallway lined with doors, but each one was closed and Aria could see that the electronic keypads next to them were damaged. Ian led the way and Brandon followed in the rear while she stayed in between them. The closer they got to the stairway, the heavier the gun felt in her hands. Ian turned a corner and stopped, then raised his hand for them to do the same.

  Aria looked behind her to see that Brandon had stayed behind the wall at the corner they’d just passed, and was a few feet away keeping watch. Brandon waved for her to come back, closer to him, as Ian opened the stairwell door and went inside. Aria went to stand by Brandon.

  Minutes passed with no Ian and no sound, then she heard a lot of shouting but it wasn’t Ian. Her pulsed picked up. Screams quickly followed the shouting then she heard gunshots. Fear gripped her heart and she instinctively moved toward the stairwell.

  “Don’t.” Brandon said quietly as he looked over his shoulder at her. “You’ll distract him and it may get him killed.” Brandon watched her until she stepped back, then he turned to look around the corner again. “Besides, we have our own party to attend.” Not two seconds passed before Brandon discharged his weapon.

  Taking a deep breath, Aria slid down in a crouching position near the wall, raised the gun she’d been given, and aimed it at the stairwell door that Ian had entered. She had never shot anyone before and the idea of doing such a thing made her ill but she was determined to protect herself, her unborn child that belonged to the man she loved, and his loyal friend, Brandon. If she had to kill to do that, then so be it.

  IGNORING THE FIRE IN HIS right shoulder, Ian placed his hand over the bleeding hole and with a push of his mind, the small disfigured bullet eased out and dropped to the stairway floor. Six men lay dead, three at his feet, and one hung over a rail next to him. Another lay on the steps below, his body twisted in an impossible angle. The sixth man had fallen. Well he’d actually been thrown three floors to his death.

  What a waste, Ian thought. These people had no idea how precious life was, or they didn’t care. But he did. Ian had warned them. He told them that he just wanted to leave, that he didn’t want any trouble. Only
they didn’t listen. They’d fired on him with the intent to kill. What they didn’t know was that he wasn’t going down without a fight. He wasn’t going down, period.

  Ian quickly climbed three more floors and pulled open the stairway door that led to the main lobby. He was surprised to see that it was empty. He was about to turn and go check the front of the building when he heard a gun go off. It came from below him. He backed up into the stairwell again and bolted down the six flights of stairs, practically yanking the door off the hinges. Aria was crouching, facing the stairwell with her back to Brandon who was engaged in a fire fight.

  Aria’s body seemed to deflate when their eyes met, as if she had held her breath the entire time he’d been gone. Her eyes were glossed over but he could tell she was fighting back tears. The strength she possessed was awe-inspiring.

  “Ian, thank God,” Aria breathed. She lowered the gun she had gripped so tightly, allowing her knuckles to fill with blood again. “I heard shooting and screaming. I thought, I thought you were—Oh my God, you’ve been shot,” she said, reaching for his shoulder.

  “Just a flesh wound,” he said, grabbing her arm before she could touch it. He gave her a chaste kiss on the lips as a small distraction then he quickly moved her to his side. The wound hadn’t been a flesh wound but due to his faster-than-usual healing, it was now. “We have to go, Brandon.”

  “Yeah? Tell them that,” Brandon said, without looking at him. He shot two more rounds down the hall.

  Ian moved out from behind Brandon with his hand raised. Brandon yelled something and moved from a crouching position to tackle him in an effort to keep him from being shot, but stopped when he saw and heard several bullets hit some type of invisible barrier and fall uselessly to the floor. Brandon looked from the bullets to Ian, noting that Ian’s hand was still raised, and concluded that Ian was somehow responsible. Brandon gave him a quizzical look, then glanced back at the bullets that continued to collect on the floor in front of them.

  With his other hand, Ian pushed the same force that stopped the bullets at the men down the hall. They began grunting and falling as their own bullets was turned on them. The other men were raised from the floor and thrown every which way until their bodies slammed into the walls and they fell limp to the floor.

  “There was no point in talking,” Ian smirked, as he took Aria’s hand and moved to the stairwell.

  Brandon stood. “Yeah,” his voice was a little shaky and he sounded unsure, “they weren’t the talking type.” He followed Ian and Aria toward the stairwell but kept glancing over his shoulder at the downed men. “What just happened back there?” he asked.

  “I’ll fill you in later,” Ian said, noticing that Brandon had to take two steps at a time to catch up to them. Ian stopped and opened the door that lead to the lobby. He slowly stepped out with Aria and Brandon close behind. As soon as the door closed behind Brandon, the lobby filled with armed men.

  Not giving Aria a moment to protest, Ian threw up a shield and pushed her toward Brandon. “Get her out of here, Brandon.”

  Aria was shouting at Ian as she tried to grab hold of him, but Brandon took her by the arm and pulled her back through the stairwell door. Ian gave her a look that promised that he would be fine. It did nothing to calm her, and it hurt him to see her fighting to get to him as the stairwell door clanged shut.

  “Get the girl and don’t hurt her, or I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

  Ian knew that Jasper had barked the order, but he didn’t see him. Three of the men came forward with their guns pointed at him. Their intent was to get past him and into the stairwell, but Ian was having none of it. He threw a burst of energy at them, throwing them several feet away. Before the bullets hit him from the other five men who had commenced to shooting, Ian raised another barrier that took the impact then with a swipe of his hand, the men and their guns slid across the marble floor.

  He rushed the group of three that he’d taken out first and who had begun to stir already. Targeting the one who had held onto his gun, Ian easily put him down with a punch to the throat and head, then took out the other two with jabs. Turning, he focused on the other group—whoever was still capable of putting up a fight. Ian was sure there wasn’t going to be much opposition from the five other men, but they weren’t who was waiting for him when he turned around.

  Jasper was standing only a few feet away, but he looked nothing like the Jasper Ian knew. What stood in front of him was a distorted version of the man who once trained him. His skin almost looked raw as every muscle in his body seemed to flex, bloated with blood. Jasper’s facial features were harder than usual, and his lips were curved in a strained grin as his eyes focused solely on Ian.

  “What happened to you?” Ian found himself asking.

  A laugh that sounded like a choking engine came from Jasper’s mouth. “I found your little stash.” He held up Ian’s small, black pouch. “Figured this is what makes you telekinetic. Now the playing field is even.”

  Ian had known Jasper had the pouch. He had expected the asshole to give the contents to his uncle, but he never expected Jasper would inject himself. “You shouldn’t have done that.” Ian’s tone was deadly. Aria’s life depended on him getting that pouch back.

  “From now on I do what I want. Take what I want. And you know what I want, kid?”

  Ian took a step forward. “Me dead,” he answered, taking another step.

  After another bone chilling chuckle, Jasper smiled, showing white teeth and bloody gums. “That…and the girl.” Jasper said, as he patted what could be the pouch in his side cargo pants pocket.

  Good, Ian thought, there must be some injections left. “I will never let you hurt Aria.”

  “Who said I wanted to hurt her? I plan on making her very happy. I’d never harm the woman who is going to have my children.”

  What? Frowning, Ian let the words Jasper said play over again in his head.

  I can do this. I’m not helpless, Aria told herself as the shooting around her seemed to intensify. Armed men had them pinned. Brandon had her nestled behind him and a file cabinet. He was protecting her just like he’d promised even though it meant fighting against the very people he had worked with.

  “Brandon, I can help you,” she told him.

  He didn’t turn to look at her. Brandon was focused on the task at hand, but he still shook his head. “Get behind the cabinet and stay covered,” he ordered. Then he pulled a cylinder from a pocket, pulled a pin, and rolled the smoking canister toward the men who were shooting at them. Aria ducked behind the cabinet. “Stay covered,” he said, again before he disappeared into the smoke.

  Aria waited. Her eyes frantically scanned the smoke-filled hallway. Grunts of pain filled the space between her and the offensive line. A gunshot rang out amidst the other sounds, causing her to jump with fear. She had to do something. Brandon could be down, hurt. She raised her gun and eased out from behind the cabinet. Her eyes burned as she slowly stepped into the smoke.

  “Didn’t I tell you to stay covered?”

  The sound of Brandon’s voice made her jump then she sighed with relief. Aria watched as Brandon’s shadowed form walked toward her in the clearing smoke. Her eyes widened and her breathing quickened as a shadow rose behind him with jerky movements, but slowly and quietly pointed a gun towards Brandon’s head. He hadn’t seen or heard the threat, she realized as his face came into view. He looked irritated with her, but not aware of the man behind him. Aria slowly raised her gun.

  “You shouldn’t point that gun if—”

  The sound of the shot shattered the welcoming reprieve of close combat that filled the space. Aria saw Brandon stumble to the side as the shaded figure behind him fell to the floor.

  “Shit,” Brandon said, as he turned and leaned over the newly-deceased man. “That’s dead center, little lady. You didn’t say you could shoot like that,” he said, as he stood and faced her.

  “I offered to help you. My father is a Sheriff and my mothe
r was once a police officer. They taught me to shoot with deadly accuracy.” Her body and voice were a little shaky but her parents had taught her well. Aria was the reigning champion of the Young Guns Competition, which included Land’s End and the surrounding counties, for three years running.

  Brandon checked his gun and ammunition as he glared past her, then looked behind him. “Yeah,” he said, smiling, “that you did.” The smoke was almost cleared so he looked over at the three men he’d taken out and the one she had. Aria saw a glimmer of recognition in his eyes then all too fast it was gone. She wondered which of the men that lay dead on the floor was a friend, or if all of them were. “Come on.” He began moving stealthily down the hall. “The sooner I get you clear of this, the sooner I can get back and help Ian.”

  “Did you know any of them well?” she asked, as she fell in step behind him.

  “A few of them,” Brandon said, without breaking his pace, “but not as well as I know Ian. Those men were good soldiers, but they became the enemy when they followed orders to kill an innocent and my friend.” A body on the floor beside Brandon moved. He didn’t hesitate to shoot a round in the man’s head as he continued on.

  “Oh…okay.” That was all she could managed as she stepped over the bodies. Trying to relax, Aria loosened her grip on the gun as she followed close behind Brandon. He kept glancing back at her, his gaze moving past her to make sure no one was sneaking up on them, and by the fifth time, she’d relaxed enough to not follow his gaze and look over her shoulder, too. Or maybe it was that she trusted him to keep her safe.

  They walked by several closed rooms before Brandon found a door he apparently liked. There was nothing on the outside of the door that told her what the room was used for. In fact, it looked just like all the other doors they’d passed, large and white with no name plate. The only difference was that there was no knob, just a flat, stainless steel plate with a keyhole.