The Last True Hero (The Burned Lands Book 2)

by Bec McMaster

  "Jake and I got our hands on a live reiver. We need to ask him a few more questions, but he told us enough. Whoever was leading this company rode out five hours ago. We can't catch up, not at night, and several of the others who still have missing girls are injured, including Jenny."

  "Jenny's injured?" Her head began to clear.

  "Not that she's admitting it," he replied, "but she's limping. Badly. That was why I came to get you. I wanted to see if you were hurting too."

  "It's nothing I can't handle." Everything faded. Lust. Pain. Heartache. Mia started thinking again. "Where are they taking the girls?"

  McClain must have seen her shutter away her emotions. "We don't know." His voice darkened. "Yet."

  Yet.

  But someone did.

  Ten

  "I'M NOT SAYIN' nuthin'." The reiver spat on Adam's boot, his eyes wild and crazy—but holding hints of fear. "And you won't torture it out of me." He tilted the side of his jaw to the light, showing all the burn scars there. "Ain't nuthin' you could do to me that ain't been done before."

  It was enough to make the monster within Adam shiver with delight. It could smell the fear.

  And it sickened the part of him that was still a man.

  Adam swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing the warg back down. It had spent years hiding quietly within him, watching through his eyes for a chance to escape, and for nearly ten years he’d thought he'd won the battle—that he'd beaten the warg within him.

  He'd been wrong.

  The second Eden pulled the medallion off him last year in order to save his life, the monster tore its way from his body, leaving him howling in pain on the floor. He might have been able to push it back down the next day, when Eden gave him back the medallion, but this time the warg remained, shaking the bars of its cage as if testing them. This time he could never quite escape the feeling that it was just watching for another chance.

  The lie had been revealed. He didn't control it; the warg would always be waiting for another chance to break free.

  And as much as he pretended that he wasn't a monster, sometimes it felt like every day was a step down a dark path. Mia needed answers—she needed to know where her sister was—and he was going to get those answers for her.

  No matter what it took.

  No matter how hard it was to hold on to his humanity.

  "I don't have to torture you," Adam said, tugging off his leather gloves slowly. "You'll tell me what I want to know."

  Maybe it was the tone of his voice. Maybe it was the look on his face. The reiver swallowed, and tried to press his back through the wall. "What are you going to do?"

  Adam began unbuttoning his shirt. A part of him hated that he knew the suspense would do more than showing rage or fury ever would, but he forced that part of him back down deep. Where the warg lurked. It was interested now. He could practically feel it prick its ears. "There are worse things than torture."

  He lifted the medallion off his chest and instantly felt the warg hold its breath. Yes. It whispered. Feed me.

  The reiver's lips trembled. "What are you doing?" He scrambled back as heat lit through Adam's veins. "What the fuck are you doing?"

  "Showing you what happens if you don't tell me what you know," Adam replied, through lips that were no longer quite human.

  The reiver screamed as he saw Adam's face.

  Mia paced impatiently.

  She'd heard the screams. She knew what was happening. Maybe she should have felt sick about it, but the only thing she could think was Sage, Sage, Sage, like a drumbeat in her ear. And the second she thought of her sister, the reiver became the monster. Who knew what her sister had gone through? He deserved to suffer.

  Jake lit a cigarette, rubbing at his temples, his eyes a million miles away. For whatever reason, McClain had insisted that he question the reiver alone and Jake had been quiet ever since.

  "Are you okay?" she asked, watching the tremble in his fingers.

  Jake flicked ash from the glowing tip of the cigarette, his gaze skating around. "No. No, I'm not."

  She swallowed.

  "I thought she was going to be here," he said, finally meeting her eyes. "I really thought I'd be holding her in my arms right now—" His voice broke and he tossed the cigarette, grinding it out with his heel and watching the movement as if to hide his glittering eyes from her. "It's the only thing that's kept me going these last couple of days. That I would get her back. Before...." He couldn't say it.

  Mia wrapped her arms around her waist. All along she'd been lost in her own agony, not even thinking of how Jake would feel. Despite their arguments, she couldn't deny that he loved her sister. Maybe not in the way that Sage loved him, but if Mia were honest with herself, he did care for her.

  "We'll get her back," she told him, taking those few steps between them and grabbing hold of his hand. "Hey, look at me." He did, his face a mask of anguish that tore through her own heart. Mia's voice hardened. "I don't care what I have to do. I will get my sister back and so will you."

  He nodded. "When we do, I'm going to tell her the truth, Mia."

  The ground dropped out from beneath her.

  "She deserves the truth and I should never have kept it from her." Jake dashed moisture from his eyes. "It was never your fault. It was all on me and my stupid, pigheaded self. I fucked up and she needs to know it was my fault and—"

  "Maybe we should wait until we see—" She hesitated. "—what kind of condition Sage is in. Emotionally," she clarified, when his face went white.

  "Yeah," he rasped.

  "But right now, if you want to help her you need to pull yourself together," she continued. "I know how you feel. That same fear is gnawing me up inside, and if I let it, it could swallow me whole. I can't breathe without feeling my chest tighten. But that's not going to get my sister back." Mia reached up and hesitantly hugged him. "You're not alone, Jake. We'll deal with this together, because we're family. We're Sage's family." Tears suddenly wet her own eyes as Jake squeezed her back hard, as if he hadn't expected her to comfort him. "We'll get her back. You, me... and McClain."

  Jake held her for a long time and despite everything that had come between them in the past, she realized that she needed this too.

  He'd been her best friend once, and a part of her missed that crazy young boy who led her and Sage into every bit of mischief he could conjure as a kid.

  Turning sixteen had screwed up the dynamics of their relationship. Mia knew that his feelings for her had changed, even if she hadn't been entirely certain of her own. She'd cared for him, but at sixteen Salvation Creek began to feel too small for her. With Sage two years behind her, she'd been tied to the town, but as time passed and Sage began her own apprenticeship in electronics salvaging, Mia began to feel that restless itch again.

  The second she got an offer to join a hydroponics cohort out east, Jake changed. No longer content to hint at his feelings, he'd begun to pursue her, as if he could feel her slipping away.

  And Mia hadn't known what she truly wanted.

  Freedom? A career in hydroponics? The ability to see more of her small part of the world? Or Jake? Jake, who was safe and familiar and meant security for the rest of her life?

  She drew back slowly, looking up. This was a night of revelations, the pair of them dealing with fallout from years ago. And she needed to do her share.

  "I used you," she admitted suddenly. "I didn't know what I wanted but I knew I didn't love you. Not... not enough. And when I chickened out on heading east I turned back to you because I knew you would be there, even though I'd told you there was no chance of anything growing between us. Saying that scared the shit out of me. I kept telling myself that I loved you as a friend, maybe a little bit more, and that true love could grow between us if I gave it a chance. But... I was also using you and that wasn't fair."

  Jake's brows narrowed. "Why are you telling me this?"

  She moved away, wiping the tiredness from her face with a hand. "You know w
hy."

  Jake cleared his throat. "It's him, isn't it?"

  "Partly. I don't know," she admitted. "There's something there and I don't know what it is, but I've never... never felt like this before. And it scares me more than anything else ever has."

  "Mia...." He hesitated. "Do you ever get the feeling that McClain's not telling us something?"

  "Yeah." She definitely got that feeling, all right. "I'm not committing to anything. He's holding back from me and I know it. But... he also makes me feel safe." Mia shook it off. "Let's not talk about that. Let's focus on Sage. I owed you an apology."

  "You don't owe me anything, Mia. Like I said, this was all my fault." He took a slow breath. "Well. That was unexpected. You and I working shit out, acting like allies rather than enemies."

  "I can't help thinking that if I hadn't been such a bitch to you, then you might have stayed and my sister wouldn't have been working at the ranch that morning," she admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper.

  That was the thought that kept her awake at night.

  "You don't know that. And you can't know that," he pointed out. "Do you think Sage would have been content sitting at home, waiting for me to get back from a hard day's work? She liked what she did, Mia, and she could have been there all the same. This isn't your fault. Any of it."

  "I know." She pressed her thumbs up under her aching eye sockets. "I know. I'm just thinking too much." Mia frowned. "What's taking so long, what's—"

  "It's quiet," Jake replied, cocking his head.

  And so it was. The screams had stopped.

  "Do you think it's done?" she whispered.

  "I'll go—"

  "No." She shoved past him. "I'll go and see."

  Hammering down the flight of stairs, she stepped into the cell where McClain had gone about his business. The stench hit her first: the reiver had voided his bowels at some point, but as she glanced at his crumpled body she couldn't see any blood. Not even a mark on him.

  Mia stopped in her tracks. Even before she saw McClain's face she knew something was wrong.

  McClain washed his hands in a bucket methodically, his shoulders stiff. Every movement was careful-like, as though this was some sort of routine he needed.

  "Adam?" she whispered.

  "They've taken her south, to one of the border towns," he replied quietly, still scrubbing each finger, as though to remove nonexistent blood. "We were right. This wasn't just the usual sort of raid. The man leading the reivers is named Rykker. He brought the group together for some sort of raiding party, but he's not one of them. There were two groups of reivers working under him, and his handpicked sortie of men. When they got here one of the groups wanted to"—his face screwed up in distaste—"enjoy the spoils of war. Rykker and his men preferred the girls were kept clean. They're worth more on the slavers’ blocks down south if they haven't been touched. That’s one good thing, at least. A fight broke out and Rykker's men killed half the reivers, but he was shot so he and his men pulled out, taking the best of the women and one or two of the young lads."

  She took a moment to accept that. "Then Sage hasn't been—"

  "Most likely not. Yet." McClain looked up, his eyes glittering with rage. "But when they arrive at Rust City there's a chance she'll be put on the auction block. I'm not sure, as the reiver muttered something about Rykker offering some of the women to a man named Cypher as tribute."

  "Rust City?" Jake broke in, and she realized he was standing in the doorway, listening. "I've heard of that. It's not one of the border forts."

  "Another day's ride south," McClain replied. "It's a trader town formed out of scrap and run by this Cypher. Filled with scavengers, reivers, slavers, and anything not good enough to get credit in the border forts."

  Jake's eyebrows shot up. "The border forts have standards?"

  "Apparently."

  "And the reiver?" Mia asked, glancing at the slumped body.

  "Dead." McClain grabbed his shirt and dried his hands on it, then paused, his voice a little hollow. "I broke his neck."

  She'd never felt more like he needed her in his life. "Hey." Mia stepped forward, sliding her arms around his waist. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah." He drew away a little, trying to turn, but she wasn't going anywhere.

  "Did I ever tell you how much I hate it when people lie to me?" she asked lightly, her hands resting on his hips.

  That was when he met her eyes. Mia's heart broke a little in her chest. McClain looked like he'd been at a funeral. And worse, he looked like he'd been the one to put the body in the dirt.

  "That man lived a life of rape and murder," she told him, rubbing her thumbs against his hips. "You shouldn't have done that alone."

  McClain sighed and rubbed his face, but something about the set of his shoulders looked like he'd lost a little of the weight he'd been carrying. "I know that. Killing's never bothered me, not when it comes to reivers."

  "Oh?"

  "It's the... up close and personal of it," he muttered. "I can do hard things. That's always been my role."

  "It doesn't mean they're any easier to do," she pointed out. "Or that you should do them alone."

  This time he let her curl her arms around his waist. There was still some hesitancy in his eyes when he looked down at her. "Mia—"

  This shouldn't happen, said his unspoken words. "Shush. Just let me hold you for a bit." Burying her face against his chest, she squeezed him tight. A part of her knew keeping him at arm's length would be the smarter, safer option. But he'd been there for her when she needed it. The least she could do was to return the favor. "This is the part where you wrap your arms around me too."

  McClain hesitantly dragged her closer. He gave hugs that made everything feel better, even if it were just for a moment. Those muscular arms held a strength that could keep off the weight of the world.

  Movement shuffled behind them. Mia caught Jake's eye. "Give us a moment," she mouthed, as he hesitated in the doorway.

  He shot McClain a hard look, then nodded and disappeared.

  Mia shut her eyes and sank into the embrace. Only an hour ago, he'd been the one offering her comfort. This time it was her turn.

  "Thank you," she whispered, in the still, dark warmth of the room. "For riding with me, protecting the people that I know, and doing what it takes to get my sister back." Her nose wrinkled up. "But now I think we need to get some fresh air. It stinks in here. Come on," she said, drawing back and slipping her hand into his. "I've been doing a little bit of exploring, and I found something I think you should see."

  Tugging on his hand, she drew him up the dirty stairwell. Dozens of years of dust and debris caked the upper stairs, and she even saw a faded pink toy of some description in the corner. Three flights up, a fracture line appeared in the walls.

  "Is this safe?" McClain asked.

  "I've been poking around up here." She found the hole in the wall where she'd slipped through before, and ducked through it. "It feels secure."

  McClain ducked under the arch, his eyes widening in surprise as he stared around. Miles of desert and ruined buildings stretched around them, as Mia turned in a circle, her arms spread. "Must have been some sort of balcony once. Isn't it amazing?"

  Lush green vines grew over the railing. They'd enveloped the entire building once, though half of them had died and their dried husks shivered in the wind. Still, this part remained green and vibrant. Her favorite book as a child had been an ancient copy of The Jungle Book that survived the Darkening, and she couldn't help but think of that now as she breathed in the scent of flowers.

  "It's beautiful," McClain admitted, leaning on the rail.

  Strange how she could find beauty and peace in this moment. Her sister was in hell. This entire chase had ended in disappointment. But she still felt it, just for a second.

  "It makes me wonder what sort of people lived here," she mused. From this vantage point she could see almost everything. Huge buildings with crazy statues and adornments lined the stree
t. Everything was faded, half-broken and washed out, but she could still see traces of what this place must have been like. "What do you think it was like before the Darkening?"

  Her mother told her once that the pre-Darkening people knew the meteor was going to hit almost a year before it did. There'd been a lot of panic. Talk of missiles to blow it up, only there wasn't time enough to build one with the capabilities required to destroy the meteor before it hit.

  Some cults and Doomsday preppers owned underground bunkers, so there'd been fights in the shops over food and water. People killed each other in riots, and stole what they could. Panic was widespread and people headed for cabins in the wild, or bunkers they knew of. All over the world, people prepared, though Mia had no idea whether anyone still survived in those countries. They were simply colors on an ancient map to her, and the impact cloud killed off most of what the radiation and revenant plague didn't.

  Sometimes, Susan admitted, she wondered whether they called it the Darkening because the skies turned black from the dust cloud, or because that's what happened in people's hearts.

  "It was a place for pleasure," McClain murmured. "They have some kind of machine in the big rooms downstairs. Thousands of them. I don't know what they did, but there's carpet in there and what looks like a bar." McClain examined the vista. "We know they had technology we can only dream of. The only place that wields that sort of power now is the Confederacy."

  "Cameras, cloning, and cannons," she muttered, for everyone knew the Eastern Confederacy was hiding technology and secrets behind their walls. Rumors came back from the odd traders who managed to get within their city-states. She couldn't imagine it, but apparently the people there called each other citizen, and they were all supposed to have equal rights. Even the leaders.

  They wore numbered tattoos and old Jefferson, the trader, said that they waved some kind of machine over the tattoos that could automatically tell them who a person really was and if they had a criminal record or not. Confederacy leaders strictly controlled information, and citizens were actively encouraged to report upon dissenters within their families and friends. It was the only way for the Confederacy to survive according to their leaders, Jefferson said.