by Jason Letts
“Thank you,” Sierra said, embarrassed and grateful at the same time. Of course he knew everything going on in his firm, but it was a sore reminder that she hadn’t found a way to properly solve the situation herself. Whether she was in the senior executive suite or on the street, either way she’d be away from Raiden.
Sierra spent the rest of the cycle anxious about the call from Ralph that she knew was coming. Though Sierra had never met his wife, Gretchen, she thought she knew enough about her to have an idea of how she would respond. Still, Sierra understood how unpredictable an angry woman could be.
Though she kept her phone glued to her hand, she did have a major distraction right after work.
She took a car out to the airport, where she met her father to see Taylor off on his flight to the academy at Lynxstra.
When she hugged her father, she could feel every layer of tension weighing down on them.
“Any word from your mother?” he asked, obviously concerned.
“I haven’t heard a thing, but she was never good about keeping in contact,” Sierra answered. It looked like her dad wanted to say more, but he restrained himself as a strapping young man hauled a suitcase around the corner. With short brown hair, fluffy curls, a strong jaw, and handsome cheeks, Taylor radiated excitement.
“Look at you,” Sierra cooed at Taylor, wrapping an arm over his shoulder. He was a few inches taller than she was, almost as tall as her dad, but had more muscle than the rest of their family put together. “I won’t tell you not to get in any trouble, but at least don’t get caught.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “An old friend from guard training started there last year, and I’m going to meet up with him.”
“You’ve got the whole world in front of you now, my boy,” her dad said, sharing Taylor’s enthusiasm. “Make your mark and don’t leave any room for regrets.”
“I won’t,” he said, glancing out through the doors at the plane waiting on the sunny runway. He’d begin boarding with the others gathered around any minute, more than a few of who wore the insignia of the Lynxstra crest.
“Melody couldn’t make it?” Sierra asked.
“Mom said goodbye at the train station at home,” Taylor answered, his voice remarkably deep for a boy no older than sixteen.
Hugs and kisses followed as Taylor left to board the plane, and her dad departed on a train after a few remarks about the investigation. Exhausted from the stress of the past few days, Sierra couldn’t wait to get home and clean up whatever her dragon had broken that cycle.
When her phone rang on the drive home, Sierra nearly jerked the wheel into oncoming traffic, but managed to pull over and take the call from her boss, Ralph. The nerves ate away at her stomach. She had to be ready.
“Well, I told her everything you said,” Ralph began, not sounding too enthusiastic about it.
“And how’d it go?” Sierra asked, hoping for good news. How long had it been since she’d had any good news?
“She didn’t buy it one bit, and it looks like I may not be able to set foot in my house or see my kids again. It’s a shame she knows I can’t bully her like I do everyone else,” he said. Sierra sighed and put her head against the wheel. She’d worked so long at Fiori in order to have the experience and work history she needed, and now it would be for nothing.
“So…” she said, waiting for the axe to fall.
“So fuck it. You can have the promotion. Gretchen wasn’t going to believe anything no matter what I told her anyway.”
“Are you serious? Thank you so much!” Sierra gushed, shouting much too loudly into her phone. She leaned back against the seat, letting the relief wash over her. Her father would be so thrilled as well. Things were looking up, and now she finally had a position to be proud of. The only thing left was to right Bracken Energy and save her father.
CHAPTER 9
It’d been so long since Taylor had been in a fight that getting punched in the stomach felt like meeting an old friend, and he was eager to share the feeling. When Kopler swayed to the left, Taylor swung high with a left and a right, drawing blocks that created an opening for a quick chop against his side. A satisfying groan emerged from Kopler’s lips.
“You’ve gotten rusty,” Taylor said, steadying his breath.
“Have I?” said Kopler, a strong and lean seventeen year old. He had white hair and fair skin. His body was in shape, but his reflexes were sluggish.
Lunging forward, Kopler faked a punch and grabbed Taylor’s arm, pulling him over his hip and sending him onto the hard pavement. Taylor rolled away and flipped to his feet, narrowly avoiding a kick, then deflected another punch and delivered an elbow to the sternum. Three years had passed since Taylor had finished youth training with the Domestic Guard—a tradition for men on his mother’s side of the family that his father and Randall had never experienced—and it gave Taylor strength, discipline, and a constant desire to train that he otherwise never would have known.
Flipping forward and walking on his hands, Taylor laughed as he fended off Kopler’s attacks with his feet. Quickly snapping forward, he landed a kick near Kopler’s shoulder that left a nice, dirty footprint. Despite all that discipline, he still knew how to have fun.
They fought in the middle of the university’s residential area during the rush of new arrivals. Seeing a couple of sweaty, shirtless young men taking swings at each other was probably the last thing most of them expected to see when they arrived at Lynxstra, one of Cumeria’s most-respected academic institutions, but more than thirty students had crowded around within three minutes of fighting. Most people thought they hated violence until it was right there in their faces, and then they couldn’t get enough.
But those who knew anything about the combative arts could tell in an instant this was more of a workout—or a dance, even—than a brawl. The two of them were pulling dream moves they had previously only fantasized about performing in a live fight. Taylor ducked under a high punch, slipping behind Kopler and hooking their arms while back to back. When Kopler bent forward, Taylor cooperated with a hop that rolled him backward off his friend’s back and landing on his feet.
Gasps of adoration filled the air, putting a smile on Taylor’s face and making him glance at some of the tasty-looking girls who had turned out to watch. Spending his early teens at guard training had left him without much experience with girls, but he hoped they were getting a good look, because he had every intention of quickly changing that.
Taylor paid for his lack of concentration with a couple of missed blocks, resulting in loud smacks against his cheek and temple. The single rule they had was no closed fists to the head, but the impact still made his mind spin.
Kopler had his fists up in a ready position, bouncing on his toes despite struggling to regulate his breathing, and Taylor knew it was time for the grand finale. Some of the blows and blocks made his own muscles ache, and the last thing he wanted was to drag the fight out too long and get sloppy. He launched a feint at Kopler’s right side, getting close enough that a grab was the only response. Once Taylor’s arms were intertwined with Kopler’s, he leapt and locked his legs around his friend’s middle, arching back until his hands were on the ground and using the momentum to lift Kopler off his feet and flip him over in a dazzling arc. Kopler crashed into the ground, moaning.
“I think that’s enough,” he said, rolling into a seated position.
“I was just getting started,” Taylor gloated, putting out his arms and grinning. “Anybody else want to step in?”
The crowd of skinny civilians had swelled to nearly a hundred, and all of them laughed as they backed away and dispersed. They made up only one percent of the student body at Lynxstra, but by the end of the cycle everyone would know who he was. Taylor had wanted to show up and make a name for himself, but he’d had no idea it would be this easy.
“What was that about?” one tall guy in the thinning crowd asked.
“This is how we say hi to each other.” Taylor smirked.
He’d only been on campus a couple of hours by the time he’d met up with Kopler, and in truth he still had almost no idea where he was. After dusting himself off, putting on his shirt, and gulping some water, Kopler took it upon himself to explain everything he’d learned about the place in the year he’d already spent there.
Together they strolled along the grounds, returning waves to some of the people who’d seen them and exchanging numbers with a select few.
“You think there’d be a lot more Youth Guard veterans around here with crowds like this,” Taylor said, scanning some of the taller academic buildings and the wisteria-lined pathways.
“You would, but most of them just stay on and make a career of keeping the mountaineers in line and hoping for a cushy spot on the Lyrian border. It’s gotten to the point where things are too quiet, too safe, and guard members are starting to fight among themselves, and not in a nice training way either. Rival factions have developed, some of them wanting to be aggressive about rooting out threats to the nation on foreign turf. You haven’t stayed in touch much since you left, have you?”
Taylor shook his head as they passed under a massive arch.
“Not really. I have too much family stuff going on, and I don’t think spending my life making a run at the upper ranks and getting involved in all that stuff is for me. I’m not sure what I’d rather be doing, but whatever it is, I want to make my presence felt.”
“Who doesn’t? ’Course, you needa be careful about that.” Kopler chuckled, getting Taylor’s attention. “There was a guy last year who thought it’d be a good idea to blow a hole in the dam to flood the school. They caught him, and since the school has right of sovereignty, they killed him. Seems like every year somebody tries to do something absurdly destructive.”
“That’s crazy,” Taylor said, wondering why anyone would want to damage such a beautiful place. The school was nearly a thousand years old, older than Cumeria itself, and commanded the respect of every great thinker in the world.
“As long as you stick to your classes, make some friends, have some fun, and think about what you wanna do, you’ll be fine. And I can help in a pinch, as well. Anything for a fellow guard,” Kopler said, straightening up.
“Thanks,” Taylor said, patting him on the back and feeling at home already. Life at Lynxstra sounded so easy the way he spoke of it, and there really wasn’t a thing for Taylor to worry about. All he had to do was dive in and enjoy himself.
The first good opportunity came at the end of the first night cycle, once Taylor found himself fully settled into his room in Granby Tower and had some time to kill before his classes began. But any attention to coming courses in western lore, economics, and natural science would have to wait, because the entire student body planned to descend on the small adjoining town for a night of unfathomable recklessness.
Trudging down the hill toward what had seemed a modest village, Taylor and Kopler marveled at the fluorescent lights strung up everywhere, the blaring music, and the swarming, exuberant mass of humanity. The bars were selling drinks right in the street, and even the air carried the kind of late summer warmth that made clothes unnecessary.
“A word of advice,” Kopler said, raising his voice over the growing din. “I know you wanna go crazy, but take it easy the first night. Don’t be the drunk that everyone calls ‘fish’ all year.”
“I can’t make any promises,” Taylor shrugged, but drinking heavily wasn’t his top priority. He had on shorts that showed off his calves and a shirt with sleeves he could barely get his arms through. If he had anything that would attract the right kind of attention, it was this. Always thinking of the best-case scenario, Taylor imagined a night of fun with an intriguing girl that might even lead to years of love in the most invigorating and exciting sense of the word.
Wading into the crowd and picking up a drink, Taylor immediately lost Kopler, who might’ve turned for home as far as he knew, but that was fine; Taylor was ready to put himself out there. The girls were everywhere, so many of them dripping sex that he could hardly contain himself.
Although Taylor’s dancing skills couldn’t match his rhythm in the combative arts, he moved with the music, joining groups within the crowd and looking for someone he could make a connection with. He laughed, exchanged smiles and suggestive glances, and worked up a nice sweat that would only enhance his appeal, but he never found the right person to carry away.
While getting another drink, he spotted a girl leaning against the edge of the stand and decided to try another tactic. She had bracelets covering her forearms and nothing covering her slim stomach.
“You looking for someone?” he said, putting as much charm as he could into his smile.
“I might be,” she said.
“Any chance you’re looking for the night of your life? Because you found him right here,” Taylor said.
“I only like girls,” she replied, taking a sip.
“That’s great, because so do I. Maybe we should go find one,” he proposed, trying to salvage a situation he knew was a lost cause. But she’d already shifted her attention and the only thing to do was move on.
Wandering through the streets, Taylor searched for another opportunity. A few people recognized him from his fight, but the only gorgeous girl among them was firmly latched on to another guy. Frustration pricked at his mind with reminders that he’d thought he would have brought someone back by now, even forcing him to think back to the female classmates at his Crossing he’d brushed off.
Down the road he saw a park where a few couples were slow dancing but most were chatting and sipping. A few lights added a glow to the flowery shrubs, inviting him in and encouraging him to take a seat on an empty bench. Not far in front of him a trio in short, sleek dresses were talking, and one happened to glance over and raise an approving eyebrow.
He leaned back and listened to the quieter music pulsing through the air until she disengaged from her friends and came over to him. Her dress was little more than a nightgown with thin straps holding the fabric over a fantastically curvy body. She had red accents painted around her eyes.
“Any room for me on that bench?” she asked, pivoting a little on one foot.
“I believe so, and some room on my lap, as well,” he said, finding it so much easier when the girls approached him.
The girl pursed her lips and settled down on the end of the bench.
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” she asked, brushing some blonde hair out of her eyes.
“Did you see me on arrival day? I was…” He paused, getting the sense that she was too innocent to appreciate the truth. “I was the one carrying four suitcases at a time up Granby Tower.”
“No, I don’t think that’s it. What’s your name?” she asked.
“Taylor Bracken,” he answered, and her eyes lit up.
“That’s it! I remember seeing a picture of your dad in the news recently with his family. What’s it like to be a Bracken?” She gawked at him.
The girl leaned forward, absorbed in him as she waited for his response, and every inch of her skin seemed a stroke of perfection. He was already rock hard, and if he had to fall back on his name to get her into bed, so be it.
“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t have its perks,” he said, feigning modesty. “But if you want, we could head back to Granby and I could show you.”
The girl swallowed and looked into her cup.
“Could we just talk for a while?” She was radiant even turning him down, displaying a mix of longing and fleeting pain that he’d never seen on a face before.
“You are beautiful.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could think, but all he got for them was a sigh and pursed lips.
“Even if all you want is sex, you could at least pretend otherwise. I mean, it’s not like I don’t want it too, but there’s something to be said for letting it all play out,” she said, any affection fading from her eyes.
“But that’s not what I meant! I
was just saying,” Taylor argued, but he couldn’t blame her for interpreting it that way. “How about we just hang out and talk? Forget I said anything.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, shimmering strands of hair rolling over her shoulders as she shook her head. She got up and returned to her friends, who had been watching them. No doubt she’d made some sort of face, because they started giggling. Gritting his teeth, Taylor chose to exit and kicked himself for wasting such an incredible opportunity.
The party raged on, but a bitter feeling had taken root in Taylor’s mind. He didn’t think he would’ve become so easily annoyed after a couple of rejections, but that’s just how easy he’d expected it to be once he arrived at Lynxstra. Where were the girls lining up outside of his bedroom door? Instead it seemed increasingly likely that he’d flop completely on his first night out.
The drinks he had fueled a temper that grew with every step back to Granby Tower. The party was starting to die down and some of the stands had closed. Fewer lights flickered through a sparser crowd, and Taylor turned onto the first empty street he’d seen in hours. Some of the closed shops and shuttered homes bore broken windows, vomit, and other party remnants, but some commotion arrested his attention as a handful of people spilled out from behind a garage ahead.
The frantic scuffle of shoving and swinging made it difficult to tell exactly what was going on, but at the moment Taylor didn’t really care.
“Well, if you insist,” he said to himself. It wasn’t every day that a fight fell right in his lap, and he wasn’t about to miss this opportunity.
None of the fighters noticed Taylor until he slammed one in the back, sending him sliding against the pavement. Then he waited to make sure they all knew he was there, because although they appeared a bit older than Taylor, he didn’t think it would be much of a challenge unless it was four against one.
They all ran at him at once, and Taylor lifted the first off the ground and used him to ram the next, but the others landed stiff blows against his sides and ribs. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to fool around as much as he thought.