“No matter what, don’t let her go, Axel. You’re probably thinking something along the lines that it’s best for her not to be with you, but if she loves you, being separated isn’t good for either of you.”
He stared at his friend and saw the ghosts of his past haunting his eyes.
“You and I are a lot alike,” Foster continued. “I saw it the first time you walked in here. Your exterior remains passive, but inside, I’m betting that you have a cauldron of shit just bubbling over.”
He remained quiet, but he’d also come to the same conclusion on their first meeting.
Foster leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his desk. “If I’m right, the woman represented on that tattoo is someone who can get past that crap and really gets you. She really sees you, better than anyone ever could. And if I’m right, Axel, you have to keep that girl close. People like you and me … we need someone who can see past what we’ve got rotting inside of us and find the good. Oftentimes, we can’t even find that good part ourselves.”
Axel stared back into his glass, and realized Foster spoke the truth. How long had he been in such misery, thinking that’s what he would have to live with? Eden had seen past it all with her ability, and found the little good left in him.
“I’m out of here, man,” he said while standing.
“Are you going to call her?”
He nodded.
Foster leaned back and closed his eyes. “Good. Don’t end up like me, Axel.”
As he made his way to the front door, he decided he wouldn’t wait for Eden’s call. He’d be the one to proactively contact her, and he’d do what he could to make their relationship work, even if that meant heading back to the silo and talking to Hudson on his own.
He unlocked the front door and stepped outside. Police sirens blared in the distance as he glanced around. A group of about fifteen males between twenty and thirty years of age walked toward him, and he noticed that shop owners closed their doors and civilians gave them a wide berth.
“Foster!” he called. “Lock the door behind me.”
As he waited for Foster to show himself, he didn’t move.
The gang came closer, and Axel could see in their gazes and the whispers from the leaders out in front of the group that he’d just become a target. They reminded him of a pack of rabid dogs looking for prey. He sighed, not wanting to go there.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye as Foster strode into the front room with his keys dangling from his finger. When he saw what was coming Axel’s way, he moved to head into the back room again, most likely to retrieve his shotgun.
Axel shook his head, stopping Foster in his tracks.
He hoped Foster could hear him through the glass. “Just lock it.”
After a brief moment of hesitation, Axel turned to him. “Lock the fucking door.”
They stared each other down, and Foster finally relented. Axel watched the gang coming at him and heard the click of the door being secured.
With that, he pivoted and walked the other way, then rounded the corner and headed for his apartment.
Surprisingly, no one followed him, and he pulled his keys from his pocket when he reached the studio. As he shut the door, he heard more sirens, then a lot of screaming and hollering. Whatever the gang was up to, it sounded like they were enjoying it.
He laid on the bed and winced as he yanked his phone from his jeans pocket. As he dialed Eden, he had to admit he was glad the inking sessions had ended.
The phone rang, then went to voicemail.
He hung up and stared at the ceiling as an uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest. It wasn’t the ache he found with Eden, but something else. He rubbed his sternum and tried to place the feeling, but he couldn’t.
Rolling over, he tried to ignore it and closed his eyes, hoping the Fireball he’d consumed would send him to sleep.
Axel jolted awake and sat up in bed. What had that sound been?
He glanced over at his clock just as the blast met his ears again.
Standing, he bent over his duffel bag and strapped on his loaded knife holster, then grabbed his Glock and stuffed it into his waistband. He pulled on a jacket and headed for the door. There could be no doubt about it—he’d heard gunshots.
He bounded up the stairs into the cool night air, realizing he took a big chance coming out after dark. His black eyes tended to gleam at night, and he hoped it wouldn’t be very noticeable.
He came upon the body of a police officer and squatted next to him, checked for a pulse, but found none. Although his street seemed very quiet, a lot of noise came from one block up. He headed that way.
When he rounded the corner, he cursed. It looked like Armageddon had pulled into town with its ass on fire and guns blazing.
Fires burned in buildings, and heaps of garbage and shop goods had been hauled to the middle of the street and set ablaze. Glass from the looted shops littered the area and crunched under his boots. A cop car stood on its roof, and he counted four prone bodies around the vehicle. The smoke in the air clogged his throat and burned his eyes. Looking upward, he saw that most of the street lights had been broken.
He hurried down the sidewalk, keeping his head down. He recognized a few of the men throwing bottles at the battalion of cops about a block away as members of the gang he’d run into earlier that day. It seemed they’d been very busy while he slept.
As he came upon Foster’s shop, he heard a loud thump, then the storefront window shattered before him.
He glanced inside the open door to see two men holding Foster’s arms, another taking aim at his mid-section with a baseball bat. Foster stared at his attacker defiantly, and Axel realized he’d arrived just in time. The beating hadn’t started quite yet.
As he raced into the store, he noticed that the place had been completely trashed. They’d ruined Foster’s livelihood, and as he met the gaze of one of the aggressors, it looked like Foster had gotten a few good swings in himself.
Axel pulled two knives from his holster and focused on his targets. He placed them about twenty to thirty years of age, one black and two white. All bounced around on the balls of their feet as if they were excited children.
He plunged the knife into the back of Baseball Bat Boy who howled and screamed then turned around as Axel removed it.
The guy’s eyes were wide with anger, and Axel slashed the knife across his chest. It wouldn’t be enough to kill him, but blood began to seep from the wound immediately and it would leave a nice scar.
When it registered that Axel would flay them all alive, the two holding Foster made a run for the door. The first one received Axel’s fist in his face; the other caught his boot in the gut. As they crumpled to the floor, he turned back to the guy who now had blood soaking his shirt.
“What the fuck is going on?” he growled as he placed the tip of his knife at the man’s throat. His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it.
He didn’t answer, so Axel nicked him just below the chin. “I suggest you start talking.”
Foster came up behind the guy and cocked his shotgun, holding it at the man’s head. “You best be listening to my friend here.”
The man’s chest heaved, and Axel stared him down. It registered that he somehow felt a connection to him, and that, he certainly didn’t understand.
“It’s a private matter,” the man ground out.
A large explosion sounded from outside, and everyone turned to the street. The guy started laughing, a dark bark that sent a little chill down Axel’s spine.
“Make it public,” he said.
The man spit in his face, and began laughing again.
“That wasn’t very polite,” Foster murmured.
Even though he didn’t have many social skills, he knew that spitting in someone’s face was indeed quite rude and disgusting. Axel wiped his cheek with the back of his hand as he decided whether to kill the guy or not. The idiot started laughing again, making the decision pre
tty cut and dry. Axel plunged the knife into the man’s stomach, twisted it and lifted it, gutting him.
As the guy’s eyes widened in what could only be described as pain and surprise, he also gasped and then fell to the floor. Foster stared at Axel and lowered the gun, his face passive.
“What’s going on out there?” Axel asked as he bent over and cleaned his knife on the guy’s jeans.
“I don’t know, man. It was like a flash mob and everything started burning.”
Axel stood. His phone buzzed again, but he left it in his pocket.
“I’m going to check things out.”
Foster nodded. “I’ll take care of the body.”
On his way out of the store, he punched the other two in the face and made sure they were unconscious. As he stepped out onto the street, he pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose to try to fend off the smoke.
Across the street, something caught his eye. He walked over and stared at the graffiti for a long moment.
Well, it seemed that the ‘private’ matter the gutted guy had spoken of had just become very public.
In white paint, one of these assholes had written 6 Saviors.
He pulled out his phone, snapped a picture, and sent it to Noah.
Just as he was about to stuff the device back into his pocket, it rang again. He pressed answer, then brought it up to his ear without looking at the number.
“Yeah?”
“Axel. Where are you?”
He pulled the phone away from his face and stared at it. He’d recognize Hudson’s voice anywhere, and for a brief second, wondered if he had completely lost his mind—no way would that male be calling him. Then the panic in the voice registered. Something wasn’t right.
“Axel!”
He brought the phone back to his ear. “I’m in Phoenix.”
“I need you to do something for me.”
Really? The guy had tried to kill him less than twenty-four hours ago, and now he wanted a favor?
Hudson didn’t wait for him to answer. “Beverly and Eden went to the city today. I talked to Beverly about an hour ago. They were caught in some explosion and chaos erupted. She lost Eden.”
The bad feeling he’d had earlier returned with force as he looked around at the burning city.
“Beverly got out, and they’ve got the city locked down—no one gets in or out. I need you to find Eden.”
A blast of possessiveness railed through him. His mate was missing?
“Axel! For fuck’s sakes, would you say something? My doha is missing in a city that looks like a fucking war zone, and you’re the only one that can help her!”
He remained quiet for a moment, letting it all process. Somewhere in this mêlée, he needed to find Eden.
Gunshots rang out again, and he dropped to the ground, the phone still at his ear.
“Sweet Jesus. Was that gunfire?”
“Yeah. I’ve got to go. I’ll find her.”
He shoved the phone back into his pocket and pulled the gun from his waistband. He glanced around and listened to which way the shots came from. People screamed, while others hooted and hollered, obviously enjoying themselves.
As the possessiveness turned to anger, he let it consume him. Standing, he headed back to the studio apartment to get more ammo. On the way, he decided he would tear down every damn brick in this city until he found Eden, and he’d make what was going on now look like playtime at the neighborhood playground.
Chapter 30
As Eden looked around the beautiful old church, her body trembled uncontrollably. She tried to think of a time in her life when she’d been so utterly afraid, and she couldn’t. Even the bear incident all those years ago didn’t compare to now. Her stomach clenched, her body shook, and she found it hard to breathe.
Beverly had driven into the parking garage, and Eden had pulled out her phone. She had wanted to wait to contact Axel until they were in town to surprise him, but the service had been a bit sketchy inside the garage, so she’d told Beverly she’d run down to the street while Beverly finished up a phone call with her son, Killian.
Beverly had waved to her as she continued her conversation. “Killian, I’m sure the other box of Legos will show up. They’re probably hidden somewhere in your closet.”
With a light heart, Eden had walked down to street level, feeling as though wings had sprouted from her shoes once more. She’d be able to see Axel soon, and her entire body had tingled at the thought.
Just as she had dialed, an explosion had sounded from her left. One minute she’d been standing; the next, she’d been flat on her back on the sidewalk with ringing ears. She’d struggled to get to her feet, the desire to run far away propelling her, but it had seemed like her limbs had been encased in cement.
Strong arms had circled her waist, and for a moment in the confusion, she’d thought it had been Axel. Instead, when she’d turned around, she’d met dark, evil eyes. She’d studied the face for a moment, unable to believe what she saw. The man had actually had bumps in his forehead that reminded her of horns. A large, gold ring had hung from his nose, and diamond studs had pierced his cheeks. When he’d smiled, black, rotting teeth had shown themselves. She’d spun to run, thinking that the Devil himself had grabbed her, but he’d held on to her.
“Keep moving, honey.”
She’d had no choice, being so dazed and confused, and she’d staggered in front of the man as he’d pushed her along.
He’d taken her to the church she sat in now, and had told her to sit in the pew she occupied. Men lined the outside walls equipped with guns and knives, so she held no hope for escape.
It all seemed like such a contradiction. Their leader with the horned forehead strutted in front of the white marble altar, a large gun slung over his shoulder. On the back wall above him, Jesus hung from the cross. Below that, a golden cup sat on a table behind the altar next to the tabernacle that held the holy Eucharist.
As she gazed at her captor again, it seemed that Satan had taken over the sacred building.
It had been so long since she’d stepped foot in a church, and she regretted letting her religion lapse, although she’d never let go of her faith, and she’d been praying since she’d arrived.
She kept her eyes downcast, not wanting to make eye contact. One woman had about an hour ago, and her body now lay behind the altar, blood pooling from the bullet wound to the head.
As commotion from the back of the church met her ears, she knew what had caused it as she’d heard it many times during her hours of captivity. More women were being brought in—young and old. She had no idea what they intended to do with them all, but based on her observations so far, it wouldn’t be anything positive.
She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if Beverly had escaped this nightmare. The explosion had gone off right outside the parking garage, so she assumed she’d been safe.
Relief swept through Eden when she didn’t see her in the newest group.
Taking some deep breaths, she tried to calm herself and stop the tears that cascaded down her cheeks. Thankfully, Beverly had suggested that she wear her contacts, and Eden had listened. No one would know that she didn’t belong among the humans as the contacts muted the glow of her eyes.
“What are you looking at?” the man with the horns screamed. He walked over to an older woman probably in her seventies and pulled her from the pew. As he hauled her up to the altar, Eden shut her eyes. As the shot rang out, she began to pray again.
Please, Lord. Deliver us from this Evil.
Chapter 31
Axel walked up to a group standing in an alley and drinking out of a bottle. He counted ten—seven males and three females as he approached the burning trashcan.
One of the males turned to him and grinned. “Hey, man. Did you have a good night?”
Axel nodded and accepted the tequila bottle handed to him. Throughout the night, most everyone had left him alone, and some had even talked to him, like these people. Apparently, he
looked like he belonged in the anarchy on the streets. He’d kept a low profile throughout the night, the urge to destroy everyone and everything simmering just below the surface. Bees, honey, vinegar, and all that.
After taking a long swig, he passed it to the female next to him and kept quiet.
He’d found in his life that he learned more by listening than by talking. People often thought that if someone didn’t have a lot to say, they weren’t paying attention. Axel watched and listened to everyone and everything and stored it all away for future use.
In these circumstances, he couldn’t very well ask these douchebags if they’d seen Eden. He’d already checked all the hospitals, and Hudson had called just a bit ago to say Kade and Blake had verified she didn’t sit in jail. So, she either hid away somewhere, or she’d been taken.
The feeling in his gut told him it was the latter.
He fought the urge to kill everyone in his path and rip buildings from their foundations, but he also knew that it wouldn’t get him anywhere at this point. Somewhere down the road, he may have to unleash his fury, but right now, he had to remain patient and hope Eden stayed safe.
“Things are going well in Philadelphia,” the female with the Hello Kitty tattoo across her forehead said. “I read about it on the news.”
“They have shit burning?” the male with three black hoops through his bottom lip asked.
“Yes.”
So, it wasn’t just Phoenix on fire, but other cities across the U.S.
The fact that someone had spray-painted 6 Saviors on a building sent a clear and precise message. Whoever was in charge of this was aware of the Saviors, and that could only mean one of two things—a Colonist or Colonist offspring was responsible. However, a Colonist hadn’t made itself known in over a year, so that left a Colonist offspring. It was one or the other.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he ignored it. He’d talked to Hudson many times throughout the night, and each time he hadn’t had any updates, the male had become more irritable. He didn’t need the drama right now.
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