by K H Lemoyne
He couldn’t see her face, but the tension across her shoulders as she approached her target was obvious. She stopped several feet away from Grimm, lowered her hips, and bent her knees. Back straight and weight distributed, she froze in position.
That’s it, Mia, focus and concentrate. Think several steps ahead.
The guards held a modified version of Turen’s manacles around Grimm’s neck but released his wrists and shoulders, stepping aside in case she didn’t stay true to Xavier’s request.
She shifted the sword hilt to her right and stepped closer, one, then two steps, swinging the huge blade in a wide arc as she pivoted. Despite her turn, her entire focus seemed riveted on Grimm’s body.
That’s it, Mia.
The blade whirled. For one second it reflected in the moonlight and sent a ripple of light along the bodies of the other Guardians. As the sword gathered momentum, she adjusted her stance, commanding the huge piece of steel.
She swung, gained her center, and reversed the grip of her second hand tight against the pommel, angling the blade tip. The completion of her turn targeted the thrust to the side of Grimm’s body. Turen could swear Grimm actually stepped into the blade, forcing Mia into a true hit.
She’d followed the sword, her body pressed against Grimm’s. He jerked, and then his head lowered to her shoulder. She remained against the healer, supporting him in a macabre embrace. The whole episode lasted only seconds but played in slow motion.
Turen held his breath and waited painful moments.
With shaky movements, she pulled her sword arm backward and pressed her left hand to Grimm’s body. He draped his hands loosely around Mia’s hips. She followed him down as he sank to the ground, her head bent to his chest almost in prayer.
Turen watched every move to determine if she’d been successful.
Grimm’s eyes remained closed, his body still. Hard to assess the damage, but Turen narrowed his eyes, trying to catch any sign. She’d done the maneuver well, despite the unwieldy weight of Xavier’s sword and Grimm’s last-minute shift. In all likelihood, he’d received only a slice along his side. The execution of the act had been a set of steps even Xavier couldn’t have anticipated, especially from a human woman.
He took a breath as Grimm remained on the ground. Either, she’d wounded him more seriously than he suspected, or Grimm was playing possum. Mia stood and moved back, stepping around the modules the guards had placed to gate the remaining Guardians and render them powerless. They couldn’t fold out of the circle any more than he could fold away with his manacles on. They all ran the risk of becoming Xavier’s prisoners.
The next steps were critical.
The sword hung from Mia’s right hand, blood slick across the blade. Turen bit back a sigh and gave another glance to Grimm. His position hadn’t changed, but Turen could swear Grimm’s eyes opened and closed again quickly.
Possum it was. Why would he play along?
Xavier stepped closer, his arms crossed over his chest. “You have information for me.”
“First, Turen.”
“I could rip it from your mind.”
Mia raised her chin, and Turen’s heart lurched. Xavier had forced her to do the unspeakable, and she still wasn’t about to buckle under to him.
“Perhaps you could. That would take time. I can’t guarantee all of what I know will be available when we’re done with the struggle.”
“Don’t play with me, woman,” Xavier roared and stalked toward her, reaching for her arm. Mia hung her head, and Turen blinked as a tiny flicker of light crossed Xavier’s hand. Had he imagined that?
Xavier howled and lurched back, his brow raised and his mouth curled in an odd sneer as Mia pulled a device from her jacket and pushed a button. The hybrids emitted a series of high-pitched screams and squeals. They flailed and thrashed, the lights on their control centers pulsing in odd colors.
Their electronic tethers evidently broken, the beasts were no longer under command. One launched at Xavier’s back and another attacked two of the guards.
Mia didn’t hesitate and swung the sword in her hand at Turen’s left wrist. He barely had time to jerk from her path, tensing the chains holding him so she severed the metal instead of flesh, the sword’s weight and her fatigue finally showing in her form. She turned and swung through his other chains. He lunged, grabbed her forearm, and gripped her around the waist with his other arm.
With a jerk, he twisted the sword from her grasp and turned, spinning her body over his hip to avoid a guard’s assault at her back. He pitched her as softly as he could, sliding her into home base toward the nearest module.
Her feet punched at the module disconnecting its communication with the rest and severing the restraining boundary around the Guardians.
Xavier had pulled back with the creature and folded away.
Turen moved to decapitate another creature that launched at Ansgar while Mia rolled beneath dozens of feet. From the corner of his eye, he registered her inching along on her hands and knees below the battle frenzy between his Guardian brethren and the remainder of Xavier’s guards.
Rasheer advanced toward Mia. Turen moved to deflect his progress, but she was prepared. Grasping her blades, she sliced a fresh wound down Rasheer’s face before his fingers could grasp her. Turen took the opening to club Rasheer with the hilt of the sword to his neck, bringing him down.
Working through his pack of enemies, Turen reached his brethren and kept himself between them and Mia as she maneuvered away from the battle.
Thank goodness she’d finally run out of steam for fight.
Turen’s focus narrowed as she lingered by Grimm, whose eyes were now wide open and alert.
The distraction of a creature at his back brought Turen around to wield long strokes with Xavier’s sword. Clean and sure, the blade slid through the jellied flesh like butter. Over the creature’s dead body, he watched Rasheer grab at another creature and disappear, summoned back to Xavier’s compound.
Turen’s comrades made short work of the remaining guards, now ineffective without the presence of their commander. Then suddenly, they too, like Rasheer, disappeared.
He glanced back toward Grimm, and relief flooded him.
Mia was gone.
CHAPTER 15
Turen counted the darker colorations of granite on the high rise of the conference room wall, waiting for a conclusion to Salvatore’s diatribe: the security breach to Guardian personnel, the hazard of Xavier, and now the threat of exposure from the human community. The entire lecture delivered in a one hour, mind-numbing cold and emotionless litany.
He flicked a glance at the newest addition to the Sanctum’s security measures positioned by the door. Seven feet of stacked chrome cylinders, two feet in diameter, capped off with retractable arm-like limbs.
The entire robotic body balanced over three wheels provisioned with wide, thick utility treads for traction and the ability to maneuver stairs with the same agility as it handled turns. The mobile computerized guards, man-size metallic symbols of force, displayed lights, laser weapons and a full sensor array on the top chassis. All active and at the ready.
Disturbing. Salvatore had been busy in Turen’s absence.
At least his enslavement with Xavier had bought Turen some emotional distance from his comrades to the extent that they didn’t press him for too much detail. He’d seen the shock on their faces at the scars on his body when they’d returned from the park. Removal of the manacles had required combined laser and computer input from the new security robots.
He had disclosed the events set into play by Isabella’s contact with the cop and some of the details of his encounter with Xavier, enough to placate Salvatore. His reluctance to talk more, categorized sympathetically by Leonis as post-traumatic stress, helped him avoid Salvatore’s interrogation.
Information on Mia, the vials she was hiding, and Xavier’s session drugging him remained his private secret.
Grimm’s entrance to the large council
chambers didn’t break Salvatore’s stride, but several of the warriors appeared relieved at the distraction. Still pale and wearing his usual silent demeanor, it was hard to gauge if the healer’s health caused his tardiness or some other occurrence. He chose a seat near the doorway, several risers up. Predictably, he’d missed most of Salvatore’s lecture.
Not so expected had been his denial of serious damage from Mia’s assault. Forced by the others, Grimm allowed brief attention to his wound. By the time they’d reached home the blood loss and damage counted as negligible and the entry scar was barely visible.
Turen refused help, in spite of the lash marks that still riddled his torso from Xavier’s guards and the bullet wound shaved across the surface of his skull. His only needs were food, real clothes, and a blessedly long hot shower.
Freedom had rejuvenated his spirit, but concern for Mia pressed in on him. His marks would heal. His disquiet over the risk to Mia worsened with every word Salvatore issued. By the end of the speech, he would coach every warrior to believe she was a demon sprouted from the bowels of the earth and that all humans were inherently evil.
However, this idiotic meeting had at least presented a plan. A path to proceed over the hurdles Salvatore created for his brethren with regard to human interactions. Even so, it took every ounce of restraint to sit and pretend detachment.
No one spoke. Restless shifting filled the breach. The men were losing their patience with being preached to like five-year-olds. They’d all progressed beyond proselytizing centuries ago. That Salvatore wasn’t noticing was another weakness for Turen to exploit.
“Pardon my interruption, but I’d like to ask Turen if he has any more information on Xavier which would be of use to us, since we are all here?” asked Leonis.
Salvatore scowled but waved a hand to Turen.
“I learned little except for confirmation of his involvement in the human drug processing and distribution.” Xavier’s football stadium-sized warehouse and frenzied activity attested to high volume. “His location—tunnels underground, some natural and some constructed. The entire compound is very secure, manned by guards and the hybrids we’ve already encountered.”
“This is all the intelligence you were able to gather?” Salvatore’s clipped interruption brokered frowns from several of the other Guardians.
Turen lifted a brow. He’d been missing for months. Instead of concern from their leader, his absence garnered suspicion. The effect conjured a hot response he bit back. “I’ve had no better luck than my brethren did when subdued by Xavier’s guards and force fields.”
Ansgar’s grunt rang out in support. Salvatore seemed unconvinced.
“And of this woman who has compromised us, what more can you tell us?”
A public interrogation, fine. Better to let the others judge. Turen opened his hands. “I know nothing of the woman. Her claims of Isabella and her lover I can’t substantiate one way or the other. Had Isa’s body not been cremated, perhaps there would have been other clues.”
Leonis murmured an agreement. Salvatore delivered a blank expression, and the noise in the room dropped again to an uncomfortable silence.
Turen had injected Isa into the discussion to assess the climate of the group. At least her death continued to create distress and anger.
“The Tucson city morgue has a capacity problem. They cycle through unclaimed bodies within three days after autopsy,” said Ansgar. “I didn’t find her in time.”
Ansgar directed his gaze to Salvatore, not meeting Turen’s. The subtle shifting of bodies signaled an undercurrent of discomfort. Grimm and Tsu both contemplated the floor. Kamau, Saladin and several others seemed steeped in internal thought, each one, their eyes dark and shielded, revealed nothing.
Not the keen, interactive group of men Turen remembered from the days of Xavier’s rule.
This atmosphere reeked of distrust, lies, and secrets. The stillness was ripe with disconnect between his brethren, a presence unfamiliar and almost painful to sense.
Again, Salvatore seemed none the wiser to the discord. Was the man made from stone?
“This woman went to a lot of trouble to extract her pound of flesh.” Salvatore scrutinized the room, back like a bloodhound on his train of thought. “Your enemies are growing, Turen. First Xavier, then poor Isabella and now this human are all out for your blood. Rather unlike you. You were always the arbitrator. The good moral citizen.”
Turen mentally ground his teeth, refusing to answer the taunt.
“Or perhaps this is a trend,” said Kamau. “Hell, Grimm garnered Xavier’s wrath. That defies belief. Maybe some of these people are just a little unhinged.”
The comment brought a series of chuckles and a welcome distraction. Turen confirmed the interjection was no accident as he met the man’s dark gaze.
“The event is overrated. The woman was a tiny thing with little strength, limited skill, and no investment in my death. The pound of flesh she sought was Turen’s.” Grimm leaned back, elbows on the next riser, his posture casual as if the conversation were about the weather.
Not fooled, Turen heard the play of humor in Grimm’s words. Mia’s skill was exceptional. She had followed his instruction without fault, her placement of the blade well-chosen and precise to avoid organ damage. He wasn’t sure he could have faked an attack as well. The comment confirmed Grimm’s awareness of the same. The healer covered his knowledge with silence. Whatever the reason, Turen accepted the gift. It wouldn’t save Mia, but it bought him time.
“This woman needs to be found and dealt with,” Salvatore continued.
“The incident was dangerous but instigated by Xavier.” Tsu’s voice rang out calmly in the tense quiet.
“She lured our people to a place of her choosing with the intent to kill, with an ability to manipulate both well-seasoned Guardians and Xavier.” Salvatore’s voice elevated an octave and echoed from the chamber’s high stone ceilings.
“Still, she’s only human. Perhaps we should question her to determine her threat level first?” Tsu persisted in an even tone.
“Attacking one of our own doesn’t require evaluation,” countered Salvatore. “She must be eliminated.”
“I’m fine.” Grimm played with a small blade in his hand, balancing the flat section on his finger as he spun it around. He waved his other hand, dismissing the attack’s severity and the discussion. “I would think to find out what she knows is sufficient. Our nature isn’t to kill, especially humans.”
Turen narrowed his eyes as he recognized the blade. Mia’s blade. Grimm met his stare, making no more comment.
“We will send a team. If she resists, she will be terminated,” Salvatore concluded as if his word sealed the discussion.
“Terminate a human female without provocation?” countered Leonis. “That is a grievous breach of our covenant. To pull a whole team to seek her as well will expose more of our small ranks to Xavier. No doubt he is pursuing the woman also.”
Salvatore scowled. “Our protection is paramount, and this woman is a risk.”
“Since she’s determined to take my head, it makes more sense for me to track her down. If I determine she warrants it, I can always bring her in. Unless someone thinks I am now incapable of handling one human female?” Turen offered as he canvassed the room.
“I agree.” Tsu’s comment, immediately followed by Grimm’s agreement and Leonis’s concurrence, trailed into a round of grumbling assents that filled the room before Salvatore could interject.
Salvatore turned his scowl to each of them in turn. “So be it. You don’t require backup?”
Turen raised an eyebrow. “For one tiny woman? I disarmed her last night and would have dealt with her had I not still had Xavier’s shackles and the rest of his small army to deal with.”
“It is regrettable he held you so long without our knowledge,” Leonis muttered, effectively cutting off Salvatore. “We shouldn’t have given up our search when we found no sign of you, but our leads all proved
dead ends. Much like with Isabella.”
Several of the warriors nodded in silent agreement.
Salvatore gave them a blank stare and spun back, his gaze riveted on Turen. “Why keep you so long? Why not just kill you and be done with it?”
Turen rubbed his hand across his the back of his neck and avoided Salvatore’s gaze. “He never confronted me. His second in command instigated most of the abuse. I would still be there now if not for the peculiar incident in the park.”
Sensing a chill in the silence, he glanced up. Salvatore’s eyes had narrowed with a dangerous glint.
He met Salvatore’s gaze straight on. Placing the fight in the park in any sort of positive light was a subtle slap to all the negative propaganda Salvatore had worked through the meeting. Yet Salvatore could hardly take him down for it in front of the group. Turen broke the gaze first, submission less his objective than keeping Salvatore’s ire from bleeding into a change in the search for Mia.
“Find the woman. I will expect your report soon.”
Turen nodded and stood. Grimm still stared at him, Mia’s blade flipping back and forth, over and under his fingers, the steel twirling like a quarter doing tricks.
The crowd of men dispersed from the room, and Turen folded away.
Regardless of Grimm’s reasons for covering for Mia, Turen wouldn’t risk her well-being with any of his kind. It would just take one stray comment or one implied risk for Salvatore to enact his termination of Mia. If others refused, he knew Salvatore would perform the task himself.
That wasn’t going to happen. Ever.
***
The occasional dogs scampered past, and the distant infantile cry of a lone coyote cut through the night in the low-lit streets at the edge of one of Tucson’s poorer neighborhoods.
The low sloping hills covered with proud saguaro cactus and delicate orange trees weren’t what made the more affluent subdivisions such a contrast to this street of homes. The promise of violence here, lost youth wallowing in the shadows of evil, created the line.