Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by hamilton, rebecca

  She stopped in the entry to the train. Reyes crossed to the controls and powered it up. Her mind flashed to the scene in the Council room, when he had hidden out of sight in the corner. Even though she understood why he’d waited, and she knew that he’d worked hard to get her out since then, the memory was enough to leave her hovering outside.

  Reyes glanced back over his shoulder. “C’mon.” He jerked his head to urge her to step in. His smile froze when he saw her expression, though, and he turned to face her. “You know, we will protect you. I promise.”

  “You’ve made a lot of promises. You’re asking for a lot of faith.” She swallowed, but she stepped through. She didn’t know who his people were, but if they could give her what she needed, then she was committed.

  Reyes touched a button. The door hissed shut behind her as the train lifted. He turned back to the controls. They pulled away from the station, entering the dark tunnel. Regularly placed, long lights glowed high up in the tunnels. As they gained speed, the lights seemed to melt into each other until they were one long, continuous glow.

  “How fast are we going?” Lena asked.

  He grinned. “Fast.”

  She nodded. “Where are we going? Am I allowed to know now that we’re on the way?”

  He glanced at her sideways. “It was never a secret. Not really.” At her snort, he protested, “It wasn’t!” He shrugged. “We’re going to a place we call Fort Nevada.”

  “Fort Nevada? I’ve never heard of it.” She chewed her lower lip then asked the obvious question. “It’s in old Nevada?”

  At his nod of confirmation, she shook her head. “That’s weeks away.”

  “About thirty minutes, actually.”

  She looked around the little train in appreciation.

  Reyes chuckled. “Don’t get any ideas. This train will only respond to those who have been keyed to it.”

  She raised a brow. “So I can’t leave when I want?”

  He kept his focus on the blackness of the tunnel before them. “You can leave. Once you’re safe. I told you that.”

  She fell silent. Misgivings rose. Had she made the wrong choice? Trusted the wrong side? Reyes had saved her. He had helped her, all along the way. Was it all a sham? Maybe she’d been alone so long she didn’t know how to read people anymore. Or was he really that good?

  He glanced at her sideways, his eyes crinkled. “You still don’t trust me?”

  “I don’t know you.”

  He barked a short laugh. “There are only two others alive who know the real me better than you, Lena. I’m not sure what more I can do to reassure you.” A frown dipped his brows low and then disappeared.

  What, because he’d told her about his childhood? And shared some poetry? What kind of life did he lead if that meant she knew him?

  And who are you to question his life choices, Miss Desert Hermit?

  She mulled it over, chewing her lip, fingers moving restlessly over the edge of the control panel in front of her. Reyes left her alone, immersed in his own thoughts. All too soon, the train slowed. The blur of lights began to thin and separate. A light grew ahead of them.

  The tunnel opened into a huge space much like the one they had left behind. Multiple levels of metal-grated floors were connected by stairs. This area, however, was not empty. People moved around with purpose. Lena took them all in. Reyes had an army.

  The train eased to a stop. Reyes’s fingers tapped on the panel, and it powered down. The train sank beneath them, and a humming eased and then stopped. The door on the side of the cabin opened.

  “You ready?” He waited for her, hip propped on the panel, the picture of relaxed ease though barely tamped energy rolled off of him.

  She took a deep breath. She’d made this decision. She’d roll with whatever came of it, as she always did, and she’d take what she needed to make it all right. She shrugged one shoulder.

  “Ready.” Her answer earned her a smile.

  He turned and gestured her out. She walked alongside him as he talked.

  “It doesn’t look like much down here. But I promise there’s more to us than sewer tunnels and a gutted building.” He waved at a young man who rose from a desk at the end of the platform. The young man nodded and saluted.

  Saluted? Military.

  Reyes responded and then placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her down a short flight of stairs toward a set of double metal doors along the back wall. He went to the wall, palmed a small box with a button atop another. When he took his hand away, the top button had lit.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked her. “Do you need a bathroom?”

  “Yes, and yes,” she answered.

  The doors in front of them slid open to reveal a small room. He walked in. She hovered, hanging back as she looked for the exit.

  He had turned and smiled, but his face showed the edge of nerves. “It’s an elevator. It’s like stairs. It’s going to take us up.” He pointed up.

  “Oh.” Lena walked inside the box. The doors closed behind her.

  Reyes leaned around her and pushed a numbered button. Eighteen. He took a long, slow breath as the box shimmied slightly.

  Her stomach dropped. Her hand flashed out to the wall.

  He spoke, his words a little quick. “I hate the damn things, but it’s perfectly safe.” He nodded to reassure her, then continued, his voice distracting her from the strange sensation. “I’m going to take you to the dining hall. You can use the restroom, and we’ll get you something more substantial to eat. Then I’ll take you to your quarters, and we’ll figure out—”

  “My quarters? I have a room? Already?”

  Reyes nodded. “It won’t be much. After all, Fort Nevada is just a school.”

  “A school?” Her brows knit together. Her stomach lurched, and it wasn’t because the elevator had stopped moving. “I thought this was like a military fort or something? That you were an army planning to take on the Council of Nine?”

  The doors slid open, and he stepped out, his breath coming out in an audible sigh of relief. He turned back to her. “Well, yeah,” he said, “that’s the idea. But we’re also the school.”

  The words barely penetrated. Behind him, painted on the wall, an eagle soared over words in some long-irrelevant language on a scrolled banner. Above the bird, large, black-framed lettering proclaimed, “The Ward School.” At the bottom, below the scroll, the curving words, “Out of Darkness, Light” closed the crest.

  The elevator tried to close, and Reyes’s arm shot out to hold it back. “Lena?” He reached out to pull her toward him.

  She shook him off. “The Ward School? You brought me to the Ward School?” Her voice was shrill in her ears. Her father had warned her about the Ward School. He had told her over and over that it was dangerous.

  Reyes gave her a puzzled look. “Yes. I thought you understood. I told you we’d teach you the things you missed out on. Where else would I take you to learn?”

  “Get me out of here.” She couldn’t catch her breath, even though her lungs rapidly pumped air in and out of her chest.

  “What? Lena, what?” He stared at her. “What’s the problem? If you’re worried about safety, this is the one place you’ll be safest, and I—”

  “No! This is the one place, the single, solitary place my father told me I should never go. This is the place he hid me from.”

  A trio of young boys walked through the arch before them, arms laden with trays of sandwiches. The boys looked over at Reyes and Lena with interest, clearly wondering what her outburst had been about. He turned his head and gave them a blistering look. They picked up their pace and hurried down the hallway and around the corner.

  Reyes turned back to her. He leaned in and lowered his voice to a persuasive murmur, lifting his hands to cup her shoulders as he had back in the safe house. “I don’t know what that’s about. I have no idea what your father thought he knew. But I can tell you that we will not harm you. It just won’t happen.”


  “Then get me out of here. Now.” She turned and waved her hand over the buttons on the wall. Nothing happened.

  Reyes reached out and caught her hand. He turned her around. “I can’t do that.” From the tone of his voice, the slow, heavy regret already tingeing his words, this conversation wasn’t going to end well.

  “You won’t.”

  “No. I won’t. I can’t and I won’t. Not until you have all the information you need to make a rational decision.” A muscle pulsed at the upper end of his jaw, just below his temple. “Tell me why you want to leave. Something besides, ‘Daddy sacrificed my childhood for reasons he didn’t share with me.’ Something that makes sense.”

  “I don’t know his reasons. He didn’t share them with me. I was a child.”

  “That’s right. You were a gifted child, and you belonged here.” He was losing his temper.

  “Well, my father thought otherwise strongly enough that he made sure I didn’t come here.”

  “He did. But you’re here now, and here is where you’ll stay.”

  And there it was. She drew in a long breath. From his face, it was clear he hadn’t wanted to deal with this. Not yet. The memory of his excited grin from the train was almost enough to quell her, almost enough to make her want to believe what he’d said about safety and belonging.

  “So I’m a prisoner?”

  Reyes closed his eyes, but not before an answering hard anger bloomed in them. When he opened them, it was gone, replaced by a formal neutrality. He’d slipped back into the mask. He dropped her hand, and his cool, clipped voice was all agent. “Not a prisoner, no. You are an indefinite guest.”

  He turned away and walked to the arched opening. “And as a guest, you should eat, make yourself comfortable, and then I’ll show you to your quarters. We have a surprise for you. One I hope you’ll appreciate for the effort it took to make happen.” He raised his arm and gestured into the dining hall.

  She stood for a moment. What could she do? Scream? Shout? Sit down and refuse to move? Knock them all out—the entire building—and race around trying to figure out how to get back? She couldn’t even figure out how to make the elevator work, never mind that using that much Spark would kill her. She hadn’t had a chance to ground since she’d brought down the side of the Council building. And get back? To Azcon, where they were hunting her? To the middle of nowhere, to hide again? What then?

  No. She needed this. She needed their resources to get access to the Council. She’d gather her thoughts. Cooperate. And figure out what needed to happen to use them and then lose them. But she wouldn’t pretend she wasn’t furious at the deception. They’d know anyhow. She wasn’t Reyes.

  She did as he instructed. Used the institutional restroom he indicated then moved through the cafeteria line behind him, accepting the food he put before her. She kept her head down and refused to make eye contact with anyone, although she could hear the whispers and feel stares following her. The male energy, heavy and curious, pushed at her from every direction.

  Lena followed him to a table on the far side of the cafeteria. She sat where he indicated and began eating. She tasted nothing except the bread. She savored every chewy, yeasty bite of the bread.

  When she finished, she glanced up and wasn’t surprised to see that Reyes had already finished and leaned back in his chair to watch her. Beneath the mask of calm, his glare roved over her face. She caught the stare with her own and held it defiantly.

  His lips thinned, and he nodded, a curt movement indicating his impatience.

  He stood, gathered their trays, and walked away. He set everything on an open ledge in the wall and walked to the archway to wait for her to join him. Then he moved off again.

  She followed, glowering at the back of his head as they continued down the halls, sometimes skirting groups of boys. The boys always stared. She stared back, her animosity growing. They made several turns and wound their way deeper into the school.

  He acted like this was all her fault. Had she asked them to come to her home and force her away? Had she asked to be lied to, tricked into going into the city? Had she asked to be tortured? Made to watch her mother be killed in front of her? A dry sob of rage and grief hiccupped in her throat before she forced it back down.

  Reyes’s head moved at the sound, almost a concerned response. He stopped before a door to palm the security box. He turned the handle and moved inside slightly, stepping to the side for her.

  Reyes tilted his head, trying to catch her eye.

  She entered, brushing past him to stand in the middle of the room, trying to pretend he wasn’t behind her. She didn’t see the spare furniture in the front, the table, pair of chairs, book shelves. She hugged herself. Items spread symmetrically on a low table near the bed tucked at the rear caught her attention. Small earthenware pots had been placed carefully in a line with tiny twig brushes fanned out before them. She stalked over. They were her earthenware pots, her powders and dyes. She turned to step up on the bed and walk over it to a low wooden chest on the other side. She flipped back the top. Her clothes. Her hand-knit curtains. She drew in a deep breath. This was his surprise?

  Clearly it was meant to make her happy. Slip back in, beneath the watch of other Council agents, no doubt, and bring her some of the bits and pieces that made up her home. It was a sudden, glaring reminder of all she had lost—no, of all they had taken from her. What they had done, what he had done, was no less than tear her away from the life she had built for herself, and because of it, she’d lost more than just things. She’d lost her mother.

  She turned toward him, head down, gaze lowered. She spoke, voice low and tight. “Is this supposed to appease me?”

  He pushed away from the door and moved to the middle of the room. “Please you? Yeah, I guess. I wasn’t really—”

  “No! Not please me!” Her voice snapped out across at him like a whip. “Appease me. Is this supposed to appease me?”

  Wisely, he chose not to answer this time.

  “You brought my stuff. Great. Awesome. Thank you. Thank you so much for stealing back all this stuff. Never mind that I can never go back. Never mind the fact that you destroyed my life!”

  “I destroyed your life? Because you lost access to a building?” A bare second later, he must have remembered she had lost much more. His mouth snapped shut.

  “It wasn’t a building! It was my home! She was my mother!” She stared at him.

  He honestly believed he’d done a good thing for her. He expected her to be grateful. Happy, even. Her home was gone. She couldn’t go back. Her mother was dead. This man had no capacity to understand either loss. How could he when he’d been made a Ward at five?

  Just like that, her rage snuffed out. She deflated.

  “Of course you don’t understand what I’ve lost,” she told him quietly, “because you’ve never had a home or a family. You’ve never built anything good. You’ve only been used to destroy. You’re not a person. You’re a tool.”

  And haven’t you come here to be made into the same thing?

  In spite of the mask, she could see the pain that flared in his eyes, quicksilver and then gone. Good. I hope it hurts.

  Reyes opened his mouth to respond, but Lena held up her hand.

  “Don’t. Just leave me alone.” She shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do or say to please me or appease me. So, please…go.”

  He went.

  A long time after he left, closing the door behind himself with quiet control, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at nothing. She clasped her shaking hands together. When that didn’t stop the violent trembling, she tucked them between her knees. She wished she could cry. But she had nothing left, not even tears.

  12

  Alex didn’t wait for Thom’s assistant to announce him.

  “Is he alone?” He bit the words out as he strode through the outer area. At the startled assent, he snapped a nod back, and went in, closing out the office behind himself. He leaned his head agains
t the door for a millisecond and then stalked over to stand in front of the desk, hands fisted in his pockets.

  “That is not a happy face.” Thomas’s voice was guarded. He wouldn’t want to be disappointed. Not about this. He tossed the thin sheet he’d been reading back down onto the surface of his desk. “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing.” Alex answered. “She’s here, safe, and installed in her quarters.”

  “Then why are you so pissed?”

  His brows dipped into a brief frown. “I’m not.”

  Sure you’re not.

  Thomas made a small, doubting noise and cocked his head to the side as he waited.

  Alex grimaced. “She can be difficult. You’ll see.” He let the promise hang between them. Her last salvo had been right on target, using what he’d shared with her. So, you’re the damn fool who let her get under your skin.

  “Soon, I hope. When do you think she’ll be ready to be interviewed?”

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t try interrogating her yet, Thom. She’s not happy.”

  “I don’t plan to interrogate her, Alex.” Irritation tinged his voice.

  “I know you don’t. But that’s not how she’s going to see it right now.” Alex ran his hands through his hair and turned to yank a chair forward. He sat back. “We knew she spent her childhood locked up because her father wanted to hide her from the bad people. We just didn’t know it was us.”

  Thomas frowned at him. “Us? What did we ever do to the man?”

  Alex nodded. “Good question. The answer? Nothing. Yet, we got here, and she saw the Ward School crest and froze. Demanded to leave. And when it didn’t happen, she decided I am now her despised jailer.” It bothered him a lot. It bothered him more than he’d ever admit to Thomas.

  He’d gotten rid of the last woman who’d become this distracting. She’d been an agent. Only rarely did a mid-range manage to work their way out of mere Zone Security and into the Council Defense Agency and go toe-to-toe with the best of the Ward School. It was rarer still for a woman to do it. She had been exceptional. Alex had vetted and recruited her to join their movement himself. And as soon as he’d realized that she’d become more than a partner with benefits, he’d staged a crisis and had her reassigned to another zone. Erika had been the one who’d left that book of poetry in the safe house, the lines she’d underlined in the poem her way of telling him she wasn’t fooled. Lena was very like Erika, but more. More strength. More independence. More power.