by Laney Kaye
Stunned silence.
Then Khal clapped me on the shoulder. “Hot damn! I knew you were talking about her too much, earlier.” He shook his head, repeating himself. “Damn! Is that even, y’know, possible?” He waved a hand toward my groin.
“No idea. We’ve only made the first bond. But I know she’s telling the truth. I have to get the Resistance—her people—out of here. So, I’m splitting, but you guys make your own choice.”
I dropped my rifle to the ground, ripping the laces from my boots.
Leo followed suit. “I don’t know whether I should congratulate you or commiserate with you, Cap, but what the hell do you mean, we make a choice? We’re a team.”
The others murmured quick assent, also stripping down. Khal chuckled. “We’re gonna be on the run with an honorary she-cat in the pride, huh? That’ll make things interesting.”
On the run? Gods, I’d not given it a thought. I’d known I could intimidate Smithton enough to continue with our current employment when I attacked him, but openly aiding the Resistance would be a game changer.
There was no way Maya could keep up with us.
And no way I’d leave her here.
Jag, always the cautious one, able to think with clinical detachment, spoke slowly. “Does the Regime know of Maya’s involvement?”
I shook my head. “The fact that she’s walking free suggests not.”
Jag rubbed at his jaw. “Then we need to keep our participation on the down-low. See how this thing plays out.”
“Bullshit.” Spike jabbed a forefinger into the dirt, where we squatted. “We take down the fence, let the poor bastards out, and we run. Never did like Smithton and his beetric-fucking cronies, anyway.”
Jag shook his head. “Maya can’t run.” He cut his eyes to me. “Right, boss? I mean, she’s Glian—unless there’s some other thing you’ve forgotten to mention, like, maybe she’s a cute little Pantherkin under those clothes?”
I shook my head. “Definitely not a Felidaekin.”
“Whoo!” Spike hooted. “So much for first bond only, dude.”
Leo growled at him. “Shut up, Spike. So, no running, boss?”
“Not for Maya and me.”
“Not for any of us then.” Leo’s amber eyes were solemn. “Tell us what you want, Cap.”
Damn, but my band of brothers were tight.
While we’d been hastily talking, my hearing had ranged our environs. Behind us, toward the main town, terrorized citizens still flustered and panicked, congregating in groups, anticipating attack from outside the walls. An occasional random shot or a scream pierced the air, though I was certain no one—other than the filthy looters—caused any trouble in that direction.
To our north, where the shanty town burned, the noise was mostly the crackle of flames chewing hungrily through hovel after hovel, the scraping and huffing as emergency crews bucketed sand to quell the fires, and laments as homes and precious possessions were consumed.
In front of us, in the compound where the med center and prison lay, the laser fire and rifle shots had become sporadic. Soldiers shouted to one another, their commands and alerts painting me a clear picture as they fanned out to search the remaining buildings.
But, beneath all this, I could sense the fear, the held breaths and furtive movements. Not all of the escapees had run into the laserblade fence, some were trapped in the detention center.
And, for my plan to work, I had to hope some of them had died in there.
I sketched quickly in the dirt. “Laserblade command posts are four per wall. We only need to take out one section for the prisoners to get through, but we need to corral them in position and hold them there until we’ve got the system down. If we don’t knock out both of the command posts in the pair, the fence will still operate at half–capacity.”
“Meaning the poor bastards are either sliced or fried, not both. Hardly a choice you’d want to make.” Leo’s lip drew back, the tip of a fang showing, and I knew he itched to change.
“Jag, Spike, take this command post.” I circled it on my dirt diagram. “Leo and Khal, you’re on the other.” The two posts protected a stretch of wall opposite the rear of the prison, and I was hoping that’d be where Maya’s timed explosions had breached the external compound barrier. The thought of the risk she’d taken to plant the devices would’ve made my blood run cold, had I not been amped up on adrenalin. “I’m going to round up survivors, get them to this point,” I stabbed my finger into the dirt. “I’ll give you twenty minutes to get in place, then I’ll cause a distraction. Three minutes’ worth of noise, you get the post secured in that time. Then you turn off the laserblade fence and send me the usual signal.” Laserblade fencing was invisible, there was no way I’d know whether it was active or not, until I heard from them.
I brushed away the map. “If we’re going to come out of this thing, we have to make it look as though we’re attacking the Resistance. So, dispose of any evidence you create. Use the fires,” I pointed at the nearby smoke. “When you’re done, draw any remaining guards away from the compound, while I get the survivors through the break. Then they’re on their own until they reach the Resistance fighters Maya said will be waiting further out in the desert, to lead them to their headquarters.” I glanced around the group. Serious now, each man met my eyes, nodded, then stripped the remainder of his clothes and dropped down to all fours.
One after the other, our roars rang through the night air, stilling all but the crackling of the flames.
Ironically, access to the prison through the doors was still code-locked, but the gaping hole in the stone side would let more than armatotes in. Even a Ligerkin.
I padded through the rubble outside the building, my ears twitching. With the complex only partially destroyed, plenty of the supposedly-soundproof rooms remained to hide the remnants of the Resistance. Momentarily, I wished I’d asked Maya how many people I needed to search for, but then I realized it didn’t matter; I had no way to know how many had already run onto the laserblade fence.
I couldn’t see any Regime soldiers patrolling the gaping hole in the compound’s exterior wall, several hundred lengths distant, but almost directly opposite the destroyed prison wall. There was no need for them to patrol. The stench of death hung over the area like a hellish barbecue.
The bomb had taken out the prison wall, as Maya said, but it’d also taken out a number of the prisoners. Body parts protruded from beneath the strewn rocks, and I made mental note of the positions. I’d need those bodies, soon.
I lowered my head, swung it from side to side as I inhaled deeply, snickering to draw the scent over my vomeronasal organ as I located each hidden group. There was no point rounding them up early, it’d be like trying to herd fish, but I needed to plan for the moment the signal came.
Aware of the eyes covertly watching me, I padded through the rubble of a cell and down the corridor, focusing sight, hearing, and smell on each room. Too much pain, too much death. Not only from today.
Satisfied I had the survivors inside all placed, I made a round of the building’s exterior, stopping frequently to double check my senses. There were no Resistance fighters alive out here; the scent of their fear would’ve given them away. Two Regime soldiers, though, hid behind rubble near the breach in the exterior wall.
Which meant I knew where everyone was and could no longer put off what must be done.
I stalked back to the cell and selected a victim. An elderly man. Aware of the watchers, I dug his body carefully from beneath the rubble and lay it aside. There was no reason for these people to see what I’d be forced to do next, they’d suffered enough.
The next body I freed was a young boy. A low growl came from my throat. Even at our worst, mercs didn’t kill children. I hadn’t realized the Regime held them captive. Bastards. I gently lifted the boy’s limp body in my jaws and lay it on the far side of the room. I hesitated. Of course, I could just leave the corpse there. It didn’t matter, the child was dead, and
I didn’t have time to waste.
But his mother might be among the hidden watchers.
With a bound, I headed up the corridor, to one of the better-appointed cells. Seizing a thin gray blanket in my teeth, I dragged it back to the rubble-filled cell, and carefully covered the emaciated child. Nowhere near enough, but it was all I could do for his bereaved family. They wouldn’t be able to take him with them, but they could at least know he’d been shown a tiny bit of respect.
Unlike what I needed to do to the other corpses.
I selected two more. Another man, and a young woman, whose hair I initially thought brown, but as I lifted her, some of the dirt shook free, and I realized it was the same color as Maya’s. Realization stabbed me anew. These were real people, Maya’s friends. How would I feel if they were the bodies of my brothers?
Another five male corpses I placed around the room, in seemingly random positions.
It’d been twenty minutes since I entered the compound. Enough time for my teams to be in place. I couldn’t put off what I needed to do any longer.
I glanced around, wishing I could communicate my plan to the hidden inhabitants. I could shift, of course, and explain to them, but I knew from experience that Glians didn’t deal well with seeing us suddenly turn from cat into man. Their terror would have my words fall on deaf ears.
No, I just had to do this and hope that one day they’d understand that I’d had no—holy fuck. If I did this, I’d never get them to the wire. I’d never be able to persuade them to follow my directions.
One step at a time, Herc.
Careful not to break her skin with my teeth, I picked up the first body, the young woman, and carried her to the crumbled cell wall, making sure I was hidden from anyone who might be watching from outside. I put her down and turned to cast one last, apologetic glance around the room, not allowing my gaze to linger where I knew the insurgents hid. Then I swung my head back to the darkness outside and loosed a mighty roar, signaling my guys.
Closing my jaws over the limp body, I bounded outside with her, headed to the left of the break in the compound wall. After a few dozen lengths I stopped, dipped my head, and flung the woman’s body up into the air. She spiraled up like a leaf, then fell heavily straight down. I caught her before she hit the ground. Shook her from side-to-side, her limbs flailing like a ragdoll as I growled. Tossed her up again. From the corner of my eye, I caught movement as a Regime guard appeared from his hiding place, brave now he figured he didn’t have to face the insurgents himself. Another appeared from behind the rubble of the breached wall, their flashlights trained on me.
I flung the woman up again and roared as she spiraled, the rocks quaking around us. This time, when she dropped, I snapped her body in half, flinging the pieces into the gloom beyond where the men stood, open-mouthed. They turned, scurrying to admire my work, picking up the pieces of the body as though they were prizes.
I charged back inside and seized the next body. Said as close to a prayer as a heathen Ligerkin can manage, more a plea for forgiveness, and carried him out, tossing my head and snarling so it’d look like I fought with a live rebel. My long pelt swayed with my aggressive movements, adding to the illusion, and I whipped my tail in the dust, stirring up a cloud of deceit.
When my sick game was over, I dragged the corpse around the far side of the building, knowing the men would follow to exult in a kill they hadn’t needed to make.
I was halfway through the third display when Jag’s roar shook the buildings, echoed by Leo. The fence was down.
I carried this body further away, out to the far edge of the compound where the halolights’ sickly glow failed to reach. Placed a heavy paw on him and ripped the poor bastard to pieces, strewing him around. It’d take the guards longer to collect their trophies in the dark.
Then I raced back toward the cell. I’d drawn away the guards and got the laserblade fence knocked out, but I had no idea how much time I’d have to get the rebels through the fence, and no clue how I’d do it. Even if they’d not been scared of me before, my growls and roars would have the survivors terrified.
But somehow, I’d have to encourage them in the right direction.
I leapt over the piled rubble and into the ruins, my mind churning desperately. Should I take the time to shift back, beg the survivors to come out? I knew where each of them hid, I could force them from hiding, but terrified people rarely did the right thing, they’d scatter like headless turgurken and possibly run to the wrong section of the fence.
Boulders scattered under my claws as I skidded to a halt on top of the mound of debris. In front of a small group of disheveled survivors stood Maya.
Facing me in my Ligerkin form.
Fuck.
I hadn’t wanted her to see me like this. Not yet. Not until the second bond had been formed.
Because, hells, yes, I wanted that bond. Why try to fight it? We were bondmates, didn’t matter whether I understood why it’d happened or not. But if she saw me now, in Ligerkin form, she might reject me.
She blanched, taking a half-step back, her hand clutching the strap of the medical bag slung across her chest. Did she even recognize me? I knew she’d never seen a shift, was probably uncertain whether such a thing existed.
But we had to get the insurgents out now, whether Maya knew it was me or not.
I circled slowly to one side of the room, hoping that if I got behind the group, they’d be forced toward the gap in the perimeter wall.
But not Maya! Hell, I didn’t want her to run off that way. Yet there was no time to separate her from them, no time to explain.
No way to explain.
As I drew level with her, about twenty paces between us, Maya warily followed me with her eyes. She chewed on her bottom lip and, when the question came, she sounded uncertain. Not like Maya at all. “Is-is the laserblade fence down?”
My eyes fixed to hers, I nodded slowly, making sure she couldn’t misunderstand. Then I pawed the ground, trying to make clear my urgency.
Her throat bobbed nervously and then she turned decisively to the group sheltering behind her. “Quickly. Straight across the compound, through the breach. The defenses are down, you must go now. Run!”
The group seemed bemused. Shell-shocked, I guessed, and Maya grabbed some guy’s arm, trying to urge him forward.
Jealousy stabbed me that she’d touch someone else, but there was no time for that. With a single bound, I cleared the group, landing heavily behind them. Not pausing, I whipped around and released a roar, stopping only as the walls shook and trembled.
I was always good at clearing a room.
Whether Maya fled with the Resistance or not, I had to work swiftly, hiding the evidence of our involvement, or my brothers would be in danger for our treasonous act.
Swallowing back my revulsion, I moved quickly through the remaining bodies I’d arranged, slashing with my claws, bloodying the carcasses to create a fight scene. An alibi.
At the last body, I paused. Shook my head in despair. Somehow, defiling a body was worse than killing. At least I only ever did that in the heat of battle.
I nudged the guy’s chin up with my nose, and then sank my fangs deep in his neck, his blood welling over me as I ripped his throat out.
As I looked up, my eyes fastened on Maya’s appalled gaze.
Chapter Eight
Maya
A fter Herc left my room, I’d run to the eastern perimeter to help my friends escape. Along the way, I’d seen the vile evidence of my actions splattered on the ground beyond the exploded compound wall.
I’d been unable to tear my eyes from the proof of my guilt.
Now, I couldn’t bear to see the condemnation in Herc’s eyes.
Too many of my people were dead, and it was my fault. I’d brought them the explosives. I’d encouraged them to blast their way through the prison wall, even though I knew there would be collateral damage. They’d had nowhere they could hide when the bombs went off.
I’d
told them it was safe to run.
Then I’d sent them to their death on the laserblade fence.
A giant fist reached inside my chest and squeezed my heart to a pulp, making it impossible to for me to breathe.
Herc continued to stare at me. Judging me in the same way I judged myself.
I’d known it was him the moment he bounded inside what was left of the prison building. I’d arrived while he was carefully arranging the dead he’d pulled from the rubble. Seen him reverentially cover the boy, Brand, as if for a loving burial. And I’d held Brand’s mother as she wept and whispered her awe that Herc cared enough about the death of a child to show the body respect.
As Herc had torn the dead apart, making it look like he killed them, I’d stood beside my friends, the weight of their silent condemnation crushing my soul.
They knew this was my fault.
But Herc was helping us, not doing harm. He’d faced this situation with strength and honor, while I had none.
After the last of my people had fled through the wall, racing out into the desert toward safety, and I saw Herc using the bodies of my comrades to disguise the evidence of the Felidaekin’s involvement, I turned and slowly walked across the compound to my room. Around me, Regime citizens and military staff hurried in every direction, some rushing to put out fires, others doing what they could to save their homes.
I’d caused this, too, but I took an uncomfortable satisfaction in seeing their distress. In many ways, they’d brought it on themselves. First by destroying their own home world, then by usurping my people. Killing them.
But I’d killed my people, too, which meant I was no better than they were.
Tears streamed down my face.
I’d reached my room and was entering the code when he came up behind me. I didn’t need to turn to know it was Herc; I could feel him. How was that possible?
“I…” My throat ached so badly, I couldn’t speak. I swallowed deeply before trying again. “You can come in. If you want.”
Why did I think he’d be willing to look at me again, let alone spend time with me? What I’d done…I would never be able to forgive myself. My sister. I may have caused her death.