The Seventh Sons (Sycamore Moon Series Book 1)

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The Seventh Sons (Sycamore Moon Series Book 1) Page 21

by Domino Finn


  Diego caught himself on his hands and lifted his head. Standing in the hallway, coming from the back door, and with a jacket littered with grains of wheat, was a man holding a spent Glock.

  iv.

  Maxim Dwyer stood with his offhand pressed against the wall, allowing it to support his weight and managing to feel battered yet unbeaten all at once. He had been dreading this moment. It meant losing another link to his dead wife, however depraved.

  No matter. He had seen Deborah's vile nature. It was true what she had said: Sanctuary was better without her in it.

  The detective caught Diego's eyes and they shared the exhausted sentiments of their struggle.

  The biker jumped to his feet to help his sister up. She brushed away the aid and forced herself up using a wooden chair for support. She was a strong-willed one, that much was clear.

  They heard someone's hurried steps rushing over the patio and looked to the entrance as Gutierrez rushed in. "Everyone okay?" he asked.

  "Call it in," said Maxim calmly, "but leave the others out of it."

  The rookie nodded with firm obedience. "And the fed?" he asked, referring to Nithya.

  "Just get the paramedics here. This is finally our jurisdiction. The marshal's office will handle this scene for as long as we can." Gutierrez returned outdoors to use the radio.

  Diego watched Deborah's body on the floor with apprehension. Maxim looked closely and thought he could see the faintest of movements in her broken frame.

  "She said you were dead," started the biker, keeping his eyes on the woman.

  Maxim cringed as he recalled the sensation of being buried alive. "I was dying," he answered calmly. "Bracing against an irreconcilable weight. But I was dug from the ground."

  Diego looked at him strangely. The grain bin would be explained when he saw it. For now, the biker turned his attention to other concerns. "What happened to Gaston?"

  The detective shook his head weakly. "Shot up pretty bad. He was barely moving." At those words, Angelica went to the backyard.

  "Don't worry," said the biker, returning his eyes to the woman on the floor. "These wolves don't die so easily. Neither do you, apparently."

  Maxim thought about the man's words as they both heard raspy breathing getting heavier. Deborah was definitely still among them. The detective immediately reloaded his weapon and bent down over her, rolling Deborah so that she was on her back.

  "Idiot," spoke the wolf with a spirit that made them both jump. She had coughed up blood, a doubtless sign of a punctured lung, yet she had the strength and alacrity to grab Maxim by the neck.

  The detective put a hand on each of hers, one tugging on her grip and the other, holding his gun, vying to keep her other arm at bay. She pulled his head down and bared her teeth. Diego leapt forward and buried his knee into her shoulder to keep Deborah pinned to the wood floor.

  The bloodied wolf was not able to overpower the two men on top of her but did not yield. She was intractable, even against the threat of oblivion. The three locked themselves in a tight embrace and pressed with all their might.

  "We're not going to die, Maxim," she said, laughing up spittle.

  The detective twisted out of the woman's choke and suddenly found his weapon free. He put the Glock 22 to Deborah's heart at point blank and pulled the trigger several times.

  "Fuck!" he yelled. "Can't you see you're beaten?"

  Her body slackened and both men eased their grips. They rested next to her, their chests heaving as their drained bodies recovered. Gutierrez ran to the door but stopped short as he saw they were not in danger. He turned and left them alone again, perhaps allowing them to do what needed to be done.

  "She's not lying, Maxim," said Diego. "You didn't shoot her with silver. She's powerful. She may recover."

  Maxim contorted his brow. "Don't you have another knife or something?"

  Diego shook his head. "I'm afraid silver daggers are fairly expensive. Until we find Doka's corpse, my weapon is lost in the trees of Sycamore."

  They sat in silent frustration for a moment. Maxim needed to end this, and not only for Lola. The detective found himself, as he often did, mindlessly rubbing the ring he still wore on his finger. If he was to truly move on then he needed to stop living with that old promise. With bittersweet release, Maxim Dwyer pulled his wedding band off his finger for the very last time.

  He looked down at Deborah and knew that this would be the end for her as well. Maxim set his jaw and plunged the ring into the cavity in her chest, pushing deep until the silver rested inside the woman's heart. He glanced at Diego, the expert in these matters, who nodded his satisfaction. Deborah Holton would not return.

  The sound of sirens jarred him from his stupor. There were still loose ends to tie up. Maxim sprung to his feet, holstered his gun, and left Gutierrez to greet the responders. The two men exited from the back door.

  Gaston's pickup truck had lost its shiny luster. What hadn't been consumed by the grain bin sat mostly buried by its contents. The passenger door was open. The man was now sitting against the back wheel with Angelica tending to him.

  While Gaston looked critically wounded, Maxim was not so worried, especially after the eye-opening events inside. The detective gave the big man a nod of thanks that the wolf returned. Although a cold exchange, there would forever be an understanding between the two.

  Nithya stood behind the truck, fearful of the coming police. She laboriously moved deeper into the forest.

  "Hold it," called out Maxim, once again drawing his weapon. He strode closer to the woman that he couldn't help caring for. But he knew he had a duty. Even if it was sad, it was just. "You can't simply leave, Nithya."

  She looked at him with heartfelt eyes as he raised his gun. "I could have left you buried, Maxim." When she saw that the detective's pistol remained steady, she added, "I never lied to you about my feelings."

  Maxim's hand wavered. Part of him felt that she had told him everything he needed to hear. His heart had been closed for two tortuous years, maybe even longer than that, and he was now faced with arresting the only woman who'd been able to reawaken his emotions. Still, Maxim held the gun raised.

  Nithya smiled. There was a moment of happiness in her eyes, as if she had seen in him a flash of his quality that she adored, and turned to continue walking away. "You'll have to shoot me then."

  The detective sighed, swallowed, and put his pistol away. "I don't need a gun to restrain you, Nithya." He stepped forward with a heavy heart—but stopped short with surprise when Angelica moved in between them.

  "She helped me," said the young girl. It was dark out, but for a moment Maxim saw a flash of yellow across her brown eyes. She intended to help Nithya leave.

  "You were lucky," proclaimed Maxim. "You could have died just like the others." He looked back to appeal to Diego, but the biker kneeled silently next to Gaston.

  The short girl lifted her head proudly and brushed her curly locks behind her shoulders as she stood in his way. "It's what I wanted."

  "You may have lived but many others died. What she did was wrong."

  Angelica was obstinate. "They can't tell you the truth because they're dead. I'm the only one left alive that you can ask, and I'm telling you that what she did wasn't wrong."

  Nithya again turned to Maxim. "There is a tumor in my head, Detective. I had hoped to have the time to discover what I needed in order to survive, but the pain is greater every day. What's more, I've been bitten by Deborah, savagely. I am likely to succumb to the rabies for all my efforts."

  "No," said Angelica. "You can treat yourself like you did me."

  Nithya shook her head. "One out of twenty-one lived. That accounts for less than five percent of all subjects. Those numbers are similar to the control." Nithya was overcome with a tragic smile. "Two years of effort, and all of my work has been in vain. Now, in two months..."

  "No," repeated Angelica. "You did help me!"

  Nithya watched the girl sadly before addressing the det
ective. "Is it really so hard to let me die with my freedom?" she asked. "Allow me this, Maxim. My last moment of happiness."

  She turned to walk away.

  Angelica had tears in her eyes but Maxim still stood earnestly. Could he really just let the woman escape? What justice had fate orchestrated for her?

  "Let it go," urged Diego with calm sobriety. Maxim's gaze fell upon his friend, who was now standing next to him. "There's been enough fighting."

  Something stirred inside of Maxim. For most of his life he had never broken the rules that were set before him, but recent events had presented him with many opportunities to reconsider. Was he truly sure that sticking to such extremes was the right thing to do?

  Maxim discovered that he did nothing as Nithya Rao disappeared behind the grain bin.

  "You need to get out of here too," he said to Diego and his sister. "If your names are in the report, the CDC will follow up with you. You don't want to be on their radar." He looked to Gaston, who was bloody but breathing in a controlled manner. The wolf needed medical attention and wouldn't be going anywhere.

  Angelica smiled at him. "You're all right, old man." The girl considered for a moment. "For a policía." She then tugged at her brother's shirt but found him holding his ground.

  "The hostages have seen me," said Diego. "I've been in the marshal's office twice. They already know about me. Besides, Gutierrez has my bike and is wearing my clothes."

  His sister let out a laugh but she waited, thinking he was only joking. "Come on, bro," she insisted.

  The biker firmly shook his head. "You need to get out of here, Angelica. You'll be fine now."

  Maxim could see the resolve in the man's brown eyes, and his sister did too. The girl sprung away without taking further issue, and the men heard the bustle of the officials impending behind them.

  Over the course of the night, the paramedics attended to Gaston and loaded him into the truck. Deborah was pronounced dead at the scene and taken away by the medical examiner. The gray pickup truck was extracted from the grain bin and towed. Hordes of investigators swarmed the scene like ants and the feds got involved. And then, finally, Sycamore Lodge was allowed to rest.

  As the morning stirred, the sun one again commanded its place in the sky.

  Epilogue

  The black Scrambler roared in the middle of a greater thunder, a throng of bikers returning from the Flagstaff hospital where Gaston was recovering. The new president was respected among the remaining MC members for managing to keep the CDC from shutting them down.

  As they halted at the first stoplight in Sanctuary, Diego glanced to his flank and saw Melody on her hog, sharing a smile with him. She winked and he returned the gesture even though it was sure to have gone unnoticed behind his helmet.

  The light switched to green and invited them to resume their pleasant ride. Up ahead, a large camper was parked awkwardly on the side of the road and a shiny silver TT was positioned behind it. As they got closer, Diego saw Maxim standing in the grass, wearing his white hat, circling the abandoned vehicle.

  The biker signaled to the rest of the group and broke away. As they disappeared around the bend ahead, Diego slowed to a stop next to the detective and removed his helmet.

  Maxim rubbed his smooth chin. "You're riding with the Seventh Sons now?"

  Diego shrugged. "We're just coming from visiting Gaston."

  "Is he demanding beer yet?"

  "He's okay, aside from the annoyance of having to wait out the entire moon cycle."

  The detective chuckled. "Yeah, well, that works out in his favor. He'll be released to the Sanctuary clinic before the two weeks are up, and we can give him leave before he turns. If he stays out of sight for a month or so after that, nobody will notice anything strange the next time they see him."

  Diego was impressed. The town was finally living up to its title, providing a haven for a persecuted people. His gaze fell on Melody, who was parked some distance ahead, waiting for him.

  Maxim caught the gesture. "Are you sure this one isn't going to get you into any trouble?"

  "Can't be any worse than my sister."

  The detective raised his eyebrows in agreement but stayed silent.

  "By the way," asked Diego, "are you coming to Sycamore Lodge tonight to send her off? She wants to thank you again for everything you've done."

  "So she's set on leaving, huh?"

  The thought would've troubled Diego a few days ago, but he had found a way to accept it. He was surprised at the liberation he felt. "Sycamore was just a speed bump for her. She wants to find her own place in this world. As her older brother, I need to encourage that."

  "And Nithya?"

  The biker shrugged. "She's gone. They're not traveling together. Angelica might be back here someday, though. She knows where to find me, at least; I found an apartment in Sanctuary. I think I might stick around for a while."

  Maxim drew his head back in surprise. "So this little party is going to be a regular treat." He was talking about the MC.

  "Sanctuary is married to the Seventh Sons. With Gaston down and the deaths of the others, the club is at half its normal size. They don't object to hanging out with a like mind."

  "Your motorcycle doesn't make you like them."

  Diego nodded. "I can never be a wolf because of my vaccinations, but through all of this, I think the MC has recognized the importance of friends over circumstantial ties. They trust me enough."

  "They run drugs."

  "I've heard," said the biker. "I don't want any part of that. It's not action or money that I'm after. Speaking of which," said Diego, pointing behind him, "I see you got a new ride."

  Maxim smiled as he admired what he could see of his sports car on the other side of the camper.

  "Yeah, well, I think it's time that I opened up to some new experiences myself."

  The biker chuckled as he examined the aggressive lines of the small roadster. "The silver's a nice touch."

  The police officer thought intensely for a moment. "A new promise to myself."

  That's when Diego noticed that the man had no rings on. He could have recovered the keepsake if he had wanted, but would there have been a point?

  Diego placed his gold helmet on his head again, leaving the visor open to talk. He motioned to the old camper Maxim had been studying. "Anything going on over here?"

  "Just the usual," said the detective dismissively. "Sanctuary is a lot more boring than you'd probably expect."

  "Need any help?"

  Maxim scrunched his eyes. "Nah. I can handle it."

  Diego patted his friend on the shoulder and readied his bike to go. "Brotherhood and the open road, Maxim, that's why I'm here."

  The police officer crossed his arms and shot Diego a suspicious look. The biker shut the black visor and pulled away from the inquisitive stare.

  "Besides," he called back, grinning, "you really do have some beautiful forests out here."

  -Finn

  Maxim and Diego are back in The Blood of Brothers. The sequel is twice as long and twice as action-packed. Even better, you can get it for FREE.

  About the Author

  Hi. I'm Domino Finn, an urban fantasy author and contributor to several award-winning video games. If you enjoyed this Sycamore Moon book, be sure to check out the rest of the series.

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  Don't Miss the Thrilling Sequel

  THE BLOOD OF BROTHERS

  ook 1)

 

 

 


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