The Radical (Unity Vol.1)

by Lynch, S. M.

  ‘Listen, I need the money and I need for you to call ahead to the Ritz for us. We’re heading there now and need some special treatment, if you know what I mean?’

  ‘Okay, I’ll arrange everything. Get to the Green Park tube station. We’ll be watching. Just be careful, Seraph.’

  After hanging up, I told Ryken we were wanted. He reacted by hitting the wall and breaking the skin of his knuckles. He was so angry; he turned a violent purple color.

  ‘We haven’t done anything wrong!’

  I tried to calm him down. Grabbing his arms and pulling them down by his sides, I looked him straight in the eye as if to betray my similar despair. ‘We’re screwed… so we may as well risk the card.’

  We checked the timetables and found that there was a train to King’s Cross in five minutes. That would be enough time to get our tickets and get to the platform. We went to the kiosk and I scanned the card, doing so precariously, knowing such a simple action would have far-reaching consequences. Ryken’s protective hand around the nape of my neck spurred me on. Meanwhile, his eyes were darting frantically, always seeking potential threats.

  I bought two day-passes and a couple of tickets to other locations in the hope of confusing our pursuers. As soon as the tickets came out of the machine, we ran down to the platform. When the train turned up seconds later, we boarded, swiping our tickets as we embarked.

  Ryken gestured for us to head to the back of a carriage and for me to look as inconspicuous as possible. Yeah, like how was I gonna do that?

  We held our breath and kept a watch on the carriage doors throughout the journey; our hearts racing each time the train creaked to a stop at a station along the way.

  When a suspicious character started wandering toward us, Ryken turned his body to mine in my window seat, eclipsing me. Protecting me.

  ‘Play along,’ he said.

  I saw new intent in his eyes and it frightened me. His warm palm came up to my cheek while his other slid its way under my skirt to grab my thigh.

  ‘No‒’ I tried to protest.

  His mouth came down on mine and he sucked on my top lip, pulling savagely so that my flesh hit the underside of my nose. I heard the sound as he pulled back and he grunted after letting me go.

  ‘No?’ he countered.

  I grabbed his cheeks and brought his mouth back on mine, slicing my tongue between his lips to enter his mouth. We both had terrible breath and his stubble grated. However, my blood started pumping faster than ever before. I relaxed into my chair and he took over, pressing his chest against mine, lifting my thigh into his hand to stroke the underside. Shit, I wanted to fuck him so bad.

  ‘Seraph, Jesus…’

  When I felt relaxed, I put my arms around his deluxe shoulders, allowing him to continue kissing me passionately. My hand strayed into his hair and a thumb rubbed the edge of his ear, while my leg moved in sequence with his touch. I was almost lost to deep, sensual yearning. When he slowed down to plant a delicate butterfly kiss on my bottom lip, we eyed each other closely and I felt a seismic tremor shudder through me.

  ‘This cannot be happening,’ I pleaded. I looked into his eyes and saw a rich passion I wanted to find out more about.

  ‘I just needed some praise. That will give me enough bolster to get by with. Put your faith in me, angel.’

  I nodded and gave him a smile, tugging gently on his silky hair.

  When a guard started walking down the aisle, Ryken went back to assessing whether there was any danger and I merely stared out of the window as though I was just another ordinary woman on a day trip.

  As soon as we heard over the tannoy that the next stop was King’s Cross, we stood together and he took my hand, his fingers through mine tender and reassuring.

  I began preparing myself for London – that heaving metropolis of sweaty, agitated bodies crammed into as many tight spaces as possible. There was absolutely no population control. From what I had seen on that video in York and online, the skyline was littered with dozens and dozens of tower blocks, skyscrapers and multiple recycling plants.

  Room was so tight people could no longer afford bathrooms of their own and had ended up having to use public baths to cleanse themselves. Most of these establishments had turned into centers for drug runners and small-time hoodlums to doss about in.

  Traffic jams were never-ending, black smog left the place in perpetual darkness, and the river clung to itself in a congealed cesspit of excrement and fly-tipping. It is going to be hell itself, I thought. We would be lucky to escape. Lucky to survive the radioactive abyss.

  CHAPTER 18

  At King’s Cross we headed swiftly to the Underground, still relying on that wing and a prayer. Not only were Officium after us but we knew how members of the public so loved justice and with our mug shots displayed everywhere, well… It wasn’t just emissaries we had to contend with, Officium had made sure of that. In a bid to disguise myself I tucked my hair in my jacket and snatched a hat from someone’s bag but Ryken was more difficult to hide. We were so close to safety.

  We got to the escalators and filed to the right, keeping our heads bowed as we sank into the white tunnels beneath ground. Ryken insisted I stand in front and had a protective hand resting on my shoulder. I did feel a certain sense of pride with him at my side and also, if I had wanted anyone with me, I would have always chosen him. I knew having watched him slay all those emissaries back at Mara’s that there was more to this man than military and medical expertise.

  Ryken

  I couldn’t resist the temptation to look behind us and check if we were being followed. Thankfully, I didn’t see anyone. Near the bottom, however, as we were just about to move off toward the platform to get on another train, I felt a looming presence behind me. The shadow of the person to my rear suddenly eclipsed my own, which was a rarity. I could almost feel their breath on my neck. Emissaries were nothing if not predatory, mindless and darn cocky, giving themselves away too quickly half the time. This one quite clearly wanted to intimidate me.

  Commuters on the Underground knew to keep their distance, there was escalator etiquette, and yet this figure was continuing to move in. For a split second, I looked down at the step I stood on and up at the one behind me. I saw the unmistakable boots of Officium’s enforcer; steel toecap, black, laced, shiny never grimy. The feet of that man were millimeters from my own, standing right on the edge of the step preceding mine.

  We were seconds from the bottom and I had to act fast. There was a train coming and I saw my opportunity. With the crowds just nearby and chaos to hide ourselves amongst, it was our only hope.

  Damn it. At the last minute I realized there was a shadow in front of Seraph too, a woman with an almost invisible earpiece in, I read the almost imperceptible signals. We were cornered. No time to think. I quickly positioned my elbow in place, concentrated my energies, and dealt a severe blow to the man’s abdomen.

  I swirled and caught him as he was about to fall. We looked into each other’s eyes for a second and I knew for certain the man I had just winded was an emissary. I could see the killer’s senses going into overdrive in a bid to overcome his current predicament. I didn’t spare him any mercy, he didn’t deserve any. I was too quick, dealing another severe blow to the emissary’s groin with my knee, before draping the guy’s crumpled body over the rubber handrail, gesturing to passengers behind that he had probably had too much to drink.

  I turned back to Seraph and pulled a stray strand of hair away from her ear to whisper, ‘Knock out that bitch in front of you once we get to the bottom.’

  She turned and placed her fingers over mine on her shoulder, seeking reassurance from my touch. I gestured behind me and she saw the wounded man, getting the picture instantly. I would gladly protect her until my dying day, I already knew. She similarly calmed me by raising an eyebrow. She turned her eyes to the woman to see the female emissary looking from side to side in preparation for action.

  Seraph winked. ‘With pleasure.’


  I reached my lips out to brush against her cheek and she nodded to let me know she was ready.

  Seraph

  Nearing the very bottom of the longest escalator I had ever traveled, I noticed the female emissary turn and look stupefied by the sight of her partner in a crumpled mess. I took advantage of this brief moment of confusion, taking the woman by the shoulders, before forcing her into the throngs of people swarming the platform. Another train neared and took the heat off us. Most were only absorbed by the need to get on, jostling with each other. I imagined half the people there would simply not be able to fit so it was a battle or face waiting for the next one.

  I still wasn’t feeling great so there was no time for flair. I just needed to deal with the harridan as quick as I could. I hit the woman in such close proximity and so fast that nobody would have seen it even if they tried. My forehead hit her right between the eyes, disorienting her.

  As I saw her being carried by the crowds in the direction of the exit at the end of the platform, Ryken’s large hands grabbed my shoulders to steer me and we were pushed onto a train.

  Once the carriage doors closed, I allowed myself a breath. Pushed up against Ryken, I linked my arms around his waist and held on to steady myself. I needed rest and that was all I knew. He held me up and I relished his fingertips gently stroking my cheek. It occurred to me then that perhaps we were the only couple in existence both fleeing for our lives and simultaneously falling in love. I hadn’t the time to think through the ramifications or halt this journey we were on. I had spent so many years being stalled in my pursuit of the truth that if this was the way I was finally going to get answers, I would take it and run with it.

  Minutes later, we spilled out of the carriage along with everyone else. We weren’t far from our destination; the Green Park tube station was only spitting distance from the Ritz once we were out of the Underground. This time on the escalator, we both ran all the way up, past dozens of passengers that were politely filed to the right-hand side.

  We continued to use the crowds to our advantage once out into the open air, but it didn’t immediately appear as if we were being followed. I half watched Ryken talk to a naïve-looking young Rail Guard and ask her for directions to the Ritz, which was clearly just in the distance. I was slipping already, my mind awash with exhaustion and an edge of despair. I was becoming totally reliant on him getting us out of there. My body and mind were starting to fail me on an epic scale.

  She gave him the route generously, along with a warm smile I didn’t fail to notice. When the crowds pushed us all together, I vaguely saw him smile so bright in return that she didn’t notice him steal off with her tech-taser and stun gun, which had been tucked in her safety belt. The woman officer had obviously been far too distracted by Ryken’s smile.

  Setting off in the direction of the imposing cream building, up ahead on the right, Ryken caught my hand and pulled me through the crowds with him. His fortitude and determination was the only thing holding me up. The smell of body odor, fast-food vendors, pungent sewers, warm diesel from the Underground – topped off with the scent of freshly-fallen metallic rain – proved an unpleasant distraction from the danger we faced.

  We weaved our way there as fast as we could but the throngs hindered us somewhat. A man even taller and wider than Ryken suddenly presented himself in front of us, blocking our way, but Ryken’s forthrightness assured me that he had a plan – that he wasn’t afraid made me fearless too. Ryken loosened his grip on my hand and got out the tech-taser, using it on his opponent. Seconds later we swerved around the juddering body of the emissary.

  We were yards from the hotel entrance. I could see it all lit up ahead. Our only obstacle was several opponents lining the entrance, perhaps a dozen in total, though we had not yet been spotted by them.

  We stopped to look at each other in despair. There was no chance we could get past all of them. The crowds jostled us as we stood stationary but we had to grin and bear our elbows and shoulders being shoved.

  We had no idea what to do and stood defeated, our chests heaving, bellies empty, heads dizzy with adrenalin. We were exhausted, emotionally and mentally drained.

  Somewhere in the distance, above the din of the street, I heard my name being yelled.

  ‘Miss Maddon, Miss Maddon!’

  Back the other way, on the other side of the street, a large steel door had been opened in an alleyway next to a windowless, brick building. I saw the voice was coming from a woman dressed in a uniform and grabbed Ryken’s hand, motioning we start bashing through the swarms of people to head for seeming safety.

  We had no other choice and I was willing to take any chance at that moment. We launched across the treacherously uneven road without even checking for traffic.

  We made it to the door and it was just slamming shut when we heard heavy footsteps running determinedly our way. The door closed with a reverberating thud and a number of deadlocks automatically clunked.

  We fell against the white walls of the corridor, breathing heavily with relief. Our minds were trying to catch up with our bodies, which had been running on a fight or flight instinct for the past 24 hours.

  The woman, a petite blonde with doll-like features, helped me up.

  ‘Seraph Maddon?’

  I nodded weakly in response.

  ‘Ashoka Rees, assistant manager. My husband Carl runs this place but he’s a bit preoccupied at the moment. Can I just say, what a pleasure it is to meet a relative of Eve’s, she was the most amazing woman, I can’t tell you.’

  ‘Uh-huh, I know you can’t tell me.’ I stared her in the eye so she got the idea that Ryken didn’t know my aunt was the Operator. ‘Listen Ashoka, right? We need to rest, we need somewhere to get changed and washed. We’ve been through hell to get here.’

  ‘Well, it may not seem like it but you’re at the Ritz alright. You’re in the private wing. Only our most distinguished guests get in through this entrance! You don’t have to worry, those people following you have no knowledge of this part of the hotel. You’re safe now. Anything you want or need is yours.’

  I looked over at Ryken and saw he was almost recovered too, yet our breathing was still heavy. We had been mentally prepared to fight.

  We followed Ashoka as she led us down the dimly-lit tunnel and when Ryken pressed his hand against my lower back as we made our way through the maze, I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me. I was becoming powerless against it.

  After a few turns, we found ourselves at an elevator. Ashoka gestured for the two of us to get in and she followed. She took us to the fifth floor and out of the lift into a richly-decorated corridor, with deep-pile green carpets and cream damask wallpaper. We were inside the private wing of the hotel, I reasoned.

  We reached a door with King William Suite written in gold lettering and felt as though we were being accorded the greatest of luxuries. Ashoka pressed her thumb against a wall panel to gain entry and a computerized voice rang out, ‘Ashoka Rees, welcome’.

  If only our minds and bodies hadn’t been shot to bits, Ryken and I might have actually been able to enjoy the lavish surroundings. We found ourselves in a spacious drawing room with gold carpet, delicate glass chandeliers, an elegant writing desk, two wingback chairs at the bay window with sky-blue, paisley upholstery, plus an impeccably polished mahogany furniture set of coffee table, side-tables and a tall semicircular console on which stood a colossal porcelain vase containing a huge bunch of pink roses that must have been real.

  In the background I heard Ryken ask where the bedroom was and Ashoka showed him the way. I just stared at our surroundings, thinking this whole journey was perhaps a mirage or a wild dream I was struggling to wake up from.

  The drawing room walls were pure white with silver cornicing and on a light-grey marble fireplace stood granite statues of a naked Greek goddess and her lover, suspended on one foot each as they pointed at the other from either end of the mantel piece. Above hung a grand mirror with a thick, gold-gilt
frame. A sleek Reid-Sohn piano in dark maple sat in another corner of the room, open and beckoning, and in the background, classical music filtered through the rooms. There seemed to be something strange about the windows and I went over to find they were fake – an image of a serene, active garden on a large flat screen made to look like a window.

  Ashoka snapped me from my observations. ‘There are clean clothes in the dressing room, fresh towels, a freshly-run bath, a small buffet in the dining room, and anything else you need can be requested with a call to me. Just say my name into the wall panel over there. Enjoy, and really, nothing is too much.’

  When she left I went into the dining room next door to scope what was on offer. It was all just as breathtaking in there as the other room. I found an oval-shaped mahogany table big enough to seat at least a dozen people.

  ‘Wow,’ I said, my voice echoing around the room.

  I ran my hand over the crisp white cotton table linen and saw there were two places set next to what was actually a rather large buffet. There were trays and trays of food covered by silver cloche hoods. Behind the antique dining table were matching cabinets full of crystal glassware, plus a full dinner service of blue china with an intricate pink pattern. There was a cutlery case left open on a side-table and some items had already been set out for us.

  There was also a large oak fireplace with what I guessed was a simulated fire inside, set against a chimney breast covered in dainty floral wallpaper. The material on the cushioned surfaces of the dining chairs matched the wallpaper, as did the curtains hanging in front of yet another fake bay window. Underneath the dining table lay what seemed to be a Persian rug, while sat on the fireplace was a solid gold, antique wind-up clock in a glass case that looked as though it was worth as much as a house. It was old-fashioned decadence.

  I realized we would have no time to enjoy the luxury. We simply needed to get out of our clothes and ultimately get out of there. I just needed time to think but being in the Ritz made our situation seem all the more extraordinary.