“What month is it?”
“November,” he answered as he got lithely to his feet.
“See anything?” he asked as he stepped close beside her. “We need to be extra careful,” he commented thoughtfully. “There are a lot of tracks around here, and they’re not all from hunters.” He ran a hand across the lower half of his lean face and narrowed his gaze as he looked out across the field. “Think of all the fields that haven’t been planted. My family used to farm some. Before all this started.”
Parisa looked up at him, surprised. “Really? I never thought of you as a farmer. I see you as a warrior. That’s the way I’ll always see you.”
“Yeah?” he breathed. “Well, I wish the war was over.”
She looked back across the field and saw, finally, a rabbit emerge from the weeds. “You think this will ever be over?”
He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. The Dark Ages ended. And that was pretty bad.”
“You think this is like that? The Dark Ages?”
“Probably not. But this sure isn’t the Enlightened Period. What would you do if it did end?” he asked, frowning as if he was thinking about his own answer.
“I would find a quiet place where I could have a little garden,” she said as if envisioning it. “I’d stay safe in my own house and my own back yard. I would wake up in the same bed every morning. And I’d never have to worry about hunger or hunters again. What would you do?”
He scratched his beard-stubbled jaw for a moment. “I don’t know. Your plan sounds pretty good to me.”
He turned his face to the side and sighed deeply as if something was weighing on his mind. But he didn’t speak. The silence lengthened between them. Then, without warning, his hand closed around her wrist where it rested on the gate. It clamped tightly like an iron shackle. But the pressure suddenly loosened.
Dalin stepped back from the wall, staring downward. Parisa looked closer at the section of fence that he was looking at. There, written on one of the stones, was the name MACAYLA.
While she was still looking at the writing, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. Dalin was pushing her down behind the wall. They could hear a hunter moving around in the woods. They could hear its snarling and its wheezing breaths grow louder. There came two distant pops, one right after the other, and the sounds of the hunter stopped.
Dalin crouched down in front of Parisa and grabbed his sword where it rested against the stones. He motioned silently for her to stay down low. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, but Dalin had pivoted on his heels and he was blocking her view of the field till all she could see was his broad back.
She heard voices. They were distant at first, but they grew closer and more distinct.
“You’ve been drinking harder than ever since you found that stash,” she heard.
“Something wrong with that?” came the belligerent challenge.
“It’s not me you have to worry about, Burley. It’s Meng. You know he wants everything turned over to him. Untouched. Hope he never finds out that you already left your brand on that girl the time you caught her a few months ago.”
“Shhh, Hitch. Anybody hears you- ” Burley’s words trailed off significantly. “Anyway, she was untouched this time. I never laid a finger on her. “It’s not like she’s going to say anything,” he went on. “And Meng’ll probably reward us in some way for bringing her to him.”
“We didn’t have much choice there,” Fitch reminded him. “Not after we ran into the others. Meng rewards a snitch more than he rewards anybody else.”
Burley uttered a profane expletive. And then suddenly, after a moment of confusion, he was fumbling with his gun as he leveled it at Dalin and Parisa on the other side of the fence.
Burley was immensely pleased at capturing two more prisoners. “Well, well. This isn’t your lucky day, but it looks like it’s mine.”
Burley motioned with his gun. “Get on your feet,” he ordered. “Real slow. Real easy. And leave that sword right where it is.”
Dalin left the sword leaning against the wall and then straightened to his full height.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” Burley commanded sharply.
“This was too easy,” the other man began nervously. “Somethin’s not right.” He looked around, expecting, perhaps, some kind of trap.
Burley was concentrating on Parisa so much that he seemed oblivious to the fury seething in Dalin’s eyes. His muscles were as tense as a panther about to pounce.
Burley grinned and looked at Dalin. “You try her out yet? She- ” His crude remark ended in a strangled gurgle as Dalin’s fist shot out and tightened around his neck like a noose.
“Shoot . . . him,” Burley coughed and choked out at Fitch. He kept trying unsuccessfully to get his own gun in position to shoot Dalin. “Kill the motherfu- ”
He never finished. Dalin’s knife, which had been hidden in his boot, plunged deeply into the man’s throat. His final words sputtered as the blood flowed and bubbled from the wound.
Fitch made a move for Parisa. He stepped behind her. Fumbling awkwardly with his gun, he grabbed her upper arms and pinned her against his body like a shield.
But he had underestimated her. She jerked out of Fitch’s hold and rammed her elbow hard into his chest. Then she spun around and drove her fist into his face. She didn’t wait for him to recover. Her boot landed in his midsection at the same time she knocked the gun out of his hands. She heard his deep, gasping groan as he stayed doubled over with pain.
“What’re you gonna do now?” Unarmed, Fitch wheezed as he glared, first up at Parisa, and then at Dalin.
Dalin shrugged. “Me, I’d use you for target practice. Get on your knees.”
Fitch’s face paled at that, but he obeyed Dalin instantly.
“It’s her call,” Dalin went on without emotion as he gathered up all the weapons. “The only reason you’re still alive is because she hasn’t decided yet.”
“I never done anything to her,” Fitch whined as he looked up at Parisa.
Dalin spat in the mud between Fitch‘s knees. “You’re lucky then. Because if you had touched her in any way, you’d be dead right now, no matter what she decides.”
Fitch renewed his begging. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
Dalin cast a secret, meaning glance in Parisa’s direction. Then he asked her, “What do you want me to do to him?” He appeared to be bored and ready to move on. But, in truth, there was one burning question in his mind.
Parisa stood over the cowering man, knowing full well what Dalin wanted to know. “That prisoner- the woman you talked about, where is she?” she asked.
“Prisoner?” Fitch looked confused for a moment. “Oh, that one. She was taken to- ” He spat, wiped at the drool on his mouth and his sleeve came away bloody. He stared at the blood and then dabbed gingerly at his lips again.
“She was taken where?”
The low-voiced question made Fitch forget his wound and look up. What he saw in the man’s eyes awed him. Terrified him. He told them all he knew.
Macayla paced, looking for some weakness in her prison. She could find none, but that didn’t mean she had given up.
She swung around as the lock rattled and the door creaked back on rusty hinges. Two men entered the room, an armed guard, and Meng himself.
“Hold her,” Meng said to the other man.
Her arms were seized roughly and pulled behind her back.
She glared at the purple-robed man. “Because you’re afraid you can’t handle me yourself?” she said contemptuously.
Meng stepped forward, gripped her chin tightly in his hand and turned her face, first to one side and then the other. “I can see how a man might risk his life for you. Underneath that innocent look, you have fire.” He let her go.
“Don’t make me regret that I’ve taken you in, and that I’ve saved your life.”
“You mean you imprison people. You use brutality to make people feel helpless and
at your mercy. You think that’s respect, but it’s not.”
Meng’s eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment but he did not immediately reply. Instead he gave a chilling smile. “There’s a man looking for you. He’s been pretty- relentless in his search.”
He had caught her off guard. Was it Dalin?
Meng was watching her face closely. When he registered her reaction, he said one thing only. “That is unfortunate for him.”
Folding his hands behind his back, Meng continued to regard her. “You’re fighting me now,” he said with a slow shake of his head. “But that is going to end soon. I promise you that. Soon you will- Well, you’ll find out when I am ready.” He suddenly chuckled under his breath as if the situation was to his liking.
But Cayla wasn’t thinking about Meng at the moment. There was only one thought on her mind. Dalin. How was she going to escape and warn him that he was possibly walking into some kind of trap right now that had been set by this lunatic?
Meng’s gaze slowly raked her body, lingering on her muddy jeans. “I will have appropriate clothing prepared,” he said to the guard. “If she becomes difficult, do what you have to, but take care not to injure her face in any way. She must not be marked.”
It was nearly dark when the two groups ran into each other. Reactions were immediate. Guns were drawn. Weapons were held at the ready. No one moved for the space of several heart beats. Not even the cat.
And then Parisa called out as she rushed forward, “Addy. Lathan.”
Another man appeared in the doorway, and a woman and a child. But Dalin saw one thing only. Cayla was not with them.
The wind blew through Cayla’s unbound hair. It was a cold wind, as cold as the feeling that gripped her heart, a heart that picked up its pace when she saw the tall, dark figure approach from a distance.
Convince him, she heard Meng’s warning again. Convince him at any cost if you want him to live.
“Now that he has seen you, come inside,” Meng ordered her. “Or you know what will happen to him.”
She obeyed, she had no choice, and backed through the doorway of the abandoned building with Meng. At least they were outside the compound, but that didn’t give her much reassurance. She didn’t know if Meng would keep his word or if this was some kind of twisted game.
Dalin continued to approach, following right into the building. Halfway down the hallway, he stopped before her. On the outside he appeared calm, composed, unworried. But there was a wariness in his eyes and a tenseness in his muscles that she alone was aware of. He couldn’t fool her. She knew him too well.
She noted all that, and realized that he was unarmed as well. Meng must have made that one of the conditions.
“So you found me,” she said closing her eyes for a brief moment, aware of the catch in her final word. She couldn’t help it.
“So I did,” she heard him say softly.
His gaze ranged the length of her body, taking it all in in an instant, she knew, without appearing to do so.
“I didn’t know you were the type,” he drawled quietly.
Her startled gaze searched his face. At her unasked question, he said, “To wear a dress like that.”
She plucked nervously at the purple skirt of the gown. “I’m sure there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“But there’s a lot I do know,” he said enigmatically.
“You ready to come with me?” he asked.
“About that,” she began and swallowed hard because her throat suddenly felt so dry she could barely get the words out. “I’ve- decided to stay here.”
He waited for her to go on.
“It’s safe here,” she said, forcing the words out. “There’s plenty of food and- and that’s better than starving every day. A lot better. And, well, as you can see, there are nicer clothes to wear.”
He didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting for her to continue.
Convince him.
She looked down, brought her hand up nervously to push back a lock of stray hair that come loose and fallen across her lips. The same ones that were doing their best to lie to him for his own good. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. It turns out that we’re really not suited for each other.” She gave a stiff imitation of a smile. “I mean you didn’t really think we would live happily-ever-after forever, did you? I was confused for a while. Not that it wasn’t nice. But I- ”
“Nice?”
“We come from different worlds,” she went on, hoping that her voice didn’t sound as hollow as she felt inside. “I’ve realized that I want a family again. I have that here.”
While he was looking at her, something came into his eyes that she could not fathom. Something deep, something profound. It was as if he was seeing right through her. She looked away, unable to withstand the honesty in that penetrating, clear gaze, wanting with every fiber of her being to run into his arms and tell him that she didn’t mean any of it, that she loved him.
“Sounds so good, maybe I should stay,” he said in a low, faintly-mocking voice.
Alarmed, she looked up at his handsome face, and caught her breath at the downright need that suddenly made her shiver. But she had to ignore that.
“You would hate it here,” she said quickly. “It’s- structured. I’m sure you would find it all very restrictive. Very restraining. It isn’t you, Dalin,” she finished.
“Well, if that’s the way you feel- ”
She bowed her head, feeling it all slipping away from her, and maybe disappointed, too, that he would give up so easily.
But Dalin would have his life, she reminded herself sternly. It was the only way. All she had to do was to convince him to go away and forget her. Even if he hated her for it. Only then would Meng let him live.
He was scanning the hallway behind her now. Once again his glance rested on her. But he was stone-faced, revealing nothing of his true emotions. Whatever they were.
Suddenly, Dalin called out, “You don’t want a blood bath, Meng. But if anyone opens fire, that’s just what it’s going to be.”
Cayla’s eyes opened wide while, behind her, Meng stepped out of a side room. Two of his guards appeared as well. But by then, Dalin had stepped between them and Cayla.
Meng eyed Dalin carefully, sizing him up. Dalin looked powerful, determined and ready to stand his ground. And then, while Dalin stood waiting, Gage and Lathan appeared behind him.
Meng was clearly startled. “How- ” he sputtered.
“How’d they get past your guards?” Dalin finished for him. “It was easy to see you don’t have much military experience.”
Then Dalin told him, “You even think about fighting us and you’ll be the first to die. I promise you that.”
Meng wavered visibly. There was something in this man’s glacial eyes that told him he was perfectly capable of carrying out his threat.
Still, Meng made an effort to gain control of the situation. “You had better think twice before threatening me.”
Dalin leaned slightly forward. “That wasn’t a threat and you damn well know it.”
Something new flickered in Meng’s eyes. Fear.
“Let her go,” Meng heard one of the other men say, a man that looked just as lethal. “It’s not worth it.”
Something in Meng fought against giving in to the men before him. He could not bear the thought of them getting the better of him. Deep inside, he felt that he was nothing if he lost control. Even the slightest loss could cause his entire world to crumble. If he showed any weakness at all, it was entirely possible that the other men with him, his own guards, would tear him to shreds like a pack of wild hyenas. His hand moved with lightning speed, but Dalin was faster.
Meng’s attempt to signal his men was a failure. Dalin’s hand shot out and closed around his wrist, gripping it so tightly that he uttered a strangled cry of pain. When he looked up and saw the look in Dalin’s eyes, he knew real terror. The same terror he had worked so hard to instill in others.
&n
bsp; “If you keep fighting me, this is just going to end badly for you,” Dalin gritted under his breath.
Without looking back at them, Dalin said over his shoulder, “Lathan, take Cayla and get out of here. Gage, you go with them. Kill anyone that tries to stop you.”
Dalin turned back, and, with a lethal edge to his voice, said, “You want her back, you’ll have to fight me for her.”
Before they had cleared the hallway, Cayla took a moment to look back. There was no one giving chase. There was no one who even looked like they would try to stop them. Inside the building or out.
With his weapons still trained on Meng, Dalin backed down the corridor towards the exit door. “Anyone steps outside this door, we’ll shoot to kill,” Dalin called out.
“Da- ” Cayla breathed when he reached her side. But she never finished. Without giving her even a hint of a warning, Dalin’s hand shot out with the rapidity of a striking snake. Shoving her shoulder hard, he pushed her down to the ground.
She heard one gunshot. Two. Dalin jerked with the impact of at least one bullet while she looked in horror at the blood spreading across his shirtfront. Meng was already lying in a crumpled, purple heap at the other end of the hallway.
Chapter 14
They were back with the group. All of them. There had been a unanimous, immediate decision to let them in the gate, which overrode Beck’s previous orders. Much to Macayla’s relief, Dalin was healing from his gunshot wound. And Parisa was happy to be reunited with Sisha.
Addy was staring out the window while daylight filtered in through the blinds, softly lighting the room. “I’d like someone to wake me up from this nightmare,” she said, half to herself.
Right now, Lathan was trying to fix a clock. There was no reason for it. Like so many other things, time was irrelevant now. But he had been working on it patiently and he had it ticking again. He looked over at Addy. “I’d do that for you if I could. You know that.”
He studied her for a few moments longer, contemplating how his life had changed since she had come into it. Addy was always there, in his thoughts and in his decisions.
Deadrise (Book 4): Blood Reckoning Page 14