The General's Daughter (Snow and Ash #1)

by Heather Knight

  His lips draw back like a feral dog’s. Talon lunges for Randall. He hits him so hard the other man flies a good five feet to my left and goes down with a grunt.

  I think Randall’s knifed me in the back. I can’t move, can’t even suck the air necessary to scream. My whole existence is now defined by agony.

  Talon’s busy pounding Randall’s head into the ground. Over and over he pounds him, and I hear the other guy whimper.

  Or maybe that’s me.

  I’m bleeding. I can feel it. My clothes are slick with it, and I’m starting to feel light-headed. Knife in my back equals scared beyond belief, and I can’t help it. I start a weird, keening sort of cry. Halfway between a sob and a wail.

  I never knew anything could hurt this badly. Until this moment I didn’t know pain could exist on this level. I wilt down as far as my knees, then onto all fours. Every movement is agony. He’s hit more than muscle. He’s hit something. I never did take anatomy, but there’s a ton of junk in there, and he’s found at least one of the important parts.

  My breaths come shallow and fast, and my head feels lighter, lighter. I’m either panicking or I’m bleeding to death, and no! I don’t want to die.

  I bring Talon back into focus. It takes only a slight turn of my head. I’m just in time to see him swing a branch thick as an arm at Randall’s head.

  Randall goes down, and Talon brings the branch down for a final crushing blow. The guy doesn’t even twitch.

  “Ilsa!” Talon drops the branch and dashes to my side.

  “Am I going to die?” I ask. Please say no. Please hold me.

  “No,” he says, but his voice is shaking. “No, you’re not.”

  He fiddles with the knife, and I cry out.

  “Sorry, sorry. I’m just looking. That’s all.”

  There’s nothing he can do for me.

  “Get out of here, Talon. Take one of those things and go.” I squeeze back sobs, and it’s getting harder to form distinct words.

  Without warning, he gives the knife a yank. It’s like I’ve been bitten by a Tyrannosaurus rex, and I scream.

  “Don’t you dare take me to Dad’s. Leave me,” I say once I can breathe again.

  He kisses me. “I will never leave you. You’re mine now, remember?”

  He’s going to die. So am I. I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain, both inside and out.

  “Fuck!” He lets go of me and kicks a clump of snow. He runs his hands through his hair and kicks more snow. “Fuck!”

  I feel like a demon’s chewing its way out of my torso. If I could unclench my jaw, I’d be screaming right now. I pray to God, please, that he’ll let me pass out.

  Talon works swiftly, combining gas and gathering up supplies. Then he reaches for me, and the second he picks me up, my jaws unlock and I sear my vocal cords. Oh God, oh God, oh God!

  He sets me down straddling the front section of the snowmobile, and mounts up behind me. He fixes it so he’s secured me in place with his legs, his arms, his all-of-him. I lean back against him even though it hurts. I need him.

  “Promise me,” I mutter. My head lolls back. I’m losing it again, but I have to tell him. “You’re all I have left.”

  He smooths the hair back from my face, puts the hat over my head, and starts the engine.

  We’re off, full throttle. If Talon wasn’t hanging on to me, I’d fly off into some crevasse and never be seen again. I feel weak and sick to my stomach, and every bump sends a fresh claw of pain through me.

  “You hanging in there?” Talon shouts over the noise of the engine.

  I try to nod, but we’ve just tossed over another bump so I doubt it looks any different from the jerking head bobs of the last hour.

  The motor stutters. Cursing, Talon pulls to a stop and cuts the engine. He wastes no time refueling the tank before remounting behind me.

  I can hardly pry my jaws apart to speak. “Leave me at the intersection of Clearfork Road and Route 662. Four quick shots, wait, then two slow. It’s a signal. Then get out of there.”

  “Sure.” He secures me in place and restarts the engine.

  I feel like I’m going to throw up. Either that or faint. Convincing Talon to give up his plans for me and get the hell out has drained every wave of energy I have left.

  Fainting wins out over puking.

  The next time Talon stops the engine, I hardly care. I’m so, so sick. I can hardly take in air, it hurts so much. But I hear engines, and I smell French fries.

  Corn fuel.

  With difficulty, I raise my head, and I’m greeted by six rifle barrels. I see a familiar pair of green eyes.

  “Not…dead,” I wheeze.

  Garrett lifts a shoulder. “Demoted.”

  I try to smile, but I fail. I open my mouth, but all that comes out is something between a squeak and a moan.

  “She’s hurt, bad.” Talon’s voice has gone dead again. He must really be worried. “Knife to the back. Kidney maybe. You don’t get her to a hospital, she’s dead.”

  “Who are you?” Garrett asks.

  “My friend,” I manage to say. “You know what happens to my friends, right?”

  Lines appear between Garrett’s brows. He doesn’t understand.

  “There aren’t any. Dad killed them all.” I’m seeing spots again, and I take comfort in Talon’s lean strength. “Let him go, Garrett.”

  He shakes his head. “Can’t do that. I have my orders.”

  “Fuck your orders!” I want to scream, to stamp my feet, to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. But the only weapon I have is the F word. I’m pathetic. The spots are growing together.

  Talon brushes the hair back from my face. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll be all right.”

  I fix my gaze on Garrett. I concentrate on keeping him in focus, myself sharp enough to be heard. “All those years trapped in that house. Every move watched. Every mistake punished. Talon saved me. Now let him go.”

  That’s all I’ve got. I’m done.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “How on earth did you control the snowmobile in your condition?” Dr. Avanti is taking notes the old-fashioned way, with a pencil and paper. “You’re really lucky you got here when you did. Another half hour and you’d have died.”

  Apparently I’ve been unconscious for several days. Randall nicked one of my kidneys, but he managed to miss most of the big blood vessels. Infection set in though.

  She takes my temperature. “I’d like you to stay a few more days if that’s okay with you.”

  The doctor smiles as though she’s humoring me, as though the decision is mine, but we both know it isn’t.

  Thanks, I mouth. I’ll bet I could talk if I try, but I don’t want to encourage questions. I’ve only been awake for half an hour or so. Apparently between the infection, the blood loss, and the damage to the kidney, they thought I was a goner. I’m glad I slept through most of it. There aren’t any pre-Ash narcotics to ease pain, and even now I’m pretty uncomfortable.

  She doesn’t get the hint. “Do you remember how this happened?”

  I turn my face to the wall. I don’t know how much she’s been told about my original kidnapper or what my relationship to him is. I just know that thinking of him makes my throat close up.

  “Do you know if you were raped?” She says this carefully, gently, as though she’s expecting me to go all hysterical.

  “No. Definitely not!”

  She glances up from the clipboard like I’ve said something interesting. She clears her throat and peers down at her notes again. Finally she shakes her head. “Well, as I said. You’ll be able to go home in a few more days. Just take it easy, okay?”

  I nod.

  She snaps her clipboard shut and gets up as though to leave. Almost like it’s an afterthought, she turns back. She gives me a strange, troubled look. “If you need anything—at all—come to me. You can trust me to be discreet.”

  She looks nice. Thirty, maybe? Thirty-five? I can’t tell with older people. But
no way am I going to trust her. This is Dad’s town. But…

  “Do you know where Sgt. Garrett is?” I ask.

  “The soldier who found you?”

  I nod.

  She spreads her hands. “I don’t know. Do you want me to get him a message?”

  I shrug like it’s not really important. I don’t want it getting back to Dad that we’re talking. Heaven forbid.

  After she leaves, it strikes me. Her question—how did I control that snowmobile in my condition? No mention of Talon. They have, or know about, the snowmobile. Not Talon. Is she being clever? Is she clueing me in on what Dad’s story is?

  Standing orders are that strangers are to be brought in for questioning. And Talon is definitely a stranger. But if someone brought me back who might know the true story about what happened to me, he would have given orders to eliminate the witness. No way would Bluefield soldiers disobey an order.

  My heart is made of lead. I want to think Sergeant Garrett got soft at the end and let Talon go, but I know that’s not how it went down. The second they got him alone, they would have shot him in the back of the head.

  That’s why Dr. Avanti didn’t mention him. As far as Bluefield is concerned, he doesn’t exist.

  So I don’t want to see Sgt. Garrett. I hate him. Rule-following son of a bitch—I’d bet my other kidney he’s never been in love, doesn’t even care.

  I twist myself into a more comfortable position. Mistake. I might not be bleeding, but my body is definitely pissed off.

  The door opens again, but this time it isn’t the doctor. These are soldiers. Dad’s men.

  My breath flutters. I knew this moment was coming, but I didn’t expect it would be so soon. I close my eyes like that’ll make them disappear.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Balenchuk. I’m Colonel Wireman, and this is Captain Duncan.”

  I open my eyes to see a neatly groomed, gray-haired man extending his hand as though to shake mine. I make a show of weakly lifting mine. He shakes the wet noodle and drops it. I can almost smell his desire to wipe the hand on the back of his pants.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but we have a few questions.” He isn’t asking. He pulls up a chair I hadn’t noticed before and settles himself.

  “’Kay.” I do my damnedest to sound weak.

  He pulls a pencil and a small notebook out of his breast pocket. “Do you remember what happened the morning of the attack?”

  I blink a yes. “We went for our morning walk. I had a strange guard.”

  “That’s right,” Captain Duncan says. “And then what?”

  Colonel Wireman shoots him a quelling look, then turns to me with raised brows.

  “Ducks.” I close my eyes.

  “Ducks?” Wireman stares at me. You’d think I said bionic fireflies.

  “I followed them along the river. They looked…free.” I can’t help the wistful note in my voice. “I circled around this boulder, and I heard something hit the ground. Something heavy.” I rub my eyes like they’re getting blurry and I’m having trouble focusing. “When I looked back, that new guy had an arrow sticking out of his chest. This ginormous guy was standing over Sgt. Garrett. I thought for sure he was dead.”

  I frown. I’d felt bad at the time. But now that he’s killed Talon, I feel no sympathy at all.

  “Did you know who this man was?”

  I shrug and shake my head. The movement twinges something in my wound, and this time my wince is real.

  “They stuffed a cloth over my face. Next thing I knew, I was in a tiny room. It smelled like mold. My ankle was handcuffed to something.”

  “Do you know where you were?”

  When I shake my head, this time I’m careful. “Somewhere remote. My hair was dirty, so I knew it’d taken us a while to get there. I don’t know north and south, but coming back, it was far.”

  “Did you recognize any of your kidnappers?”

  “It was dark in there. They boarded up the only window. Every once in a while the door would open and this guy would set down a plate of peanut-butter bread.”

  “Did you speak to any of them?”

  I nod. “The one who brought me food told me they were with General Barry. The general was trying to use me to start a war with Bluefield. I guess they wanted to take it over? I don’t know. His army was waiting at a bottleneck in the Route 42 corridor. They were planning to ambush Dad and his men as they came through.”

  “He told you this? How come?”

  “You should have seen the place. There was no way I was going anywhere. Plus I could tell he felt sorry for me.”

  That sense of bleak hopelessness returns, and I’m silent for a moment.

  The colonel leans in a little. “What was his name?”

  I yawn. I really am tired. “Lieutenant.”

  He scowls.

  “I told him Dad would never come for me.”

  Both men shoot me piercing looks.

  “Bluefield Mountain comes first. Always. You don’t negotiate with terrorists, even when it’s for your own family.”

  “That’s a pretty harsh analysis, Miss Balenchuk.”

  “Dad has more important things to think about.” I let my voice trail off and wink my eyes closed. I pretend to sink into sleep.

  “Miss Balenchuk?” the colonel prods.

  “She’s obviously not with it yet,” the captain mutters. “We can come back later.”

  “No.” The colonel’s voice is firm. Adamant. “We need to get this now. Miss Balenchuk?”

  He gives my arm a shake. This jostles my wound, and I cry out.

  He has the grace to recoil.

  It’s not hard to summon tears. They’ve been lurking ever since I woke up.

  “I’m sorry, but we have a few more questions,” he says.

  My mouth goes dry. Now we’re getting into dangerous territory. The part where I’ll have to start lying. I don’t know what the right lies are.

  I blink, pretending I’m having trouble focusing my eyes. “Maybe you can tell me what you already know. What Sgt. Garrett said. Maybe I can fill in the missing details.”

  I close my eyes, then pop them open as though I’m trying really, really hard to stay awake.

  The colonel nods resignedly and gets to his feet. This time he does not hold out his hand.

  I am glad.

  “Miss Balenchuk, thank you for your time. We’ll be back to see you tomorrow.”

  “For the details,” adds the captain. His eyes are steely. Not good. Do people even know I’m here? If I give the wrong details, will I just disappear?

  I supposed I’ll have to talk to that ass munch, Sgt. Garrett.

  The next morning when the door opens, I go still as a gopher in a cat’s sights. It’s only Dr. Avanti, though, and I collapse back against the pillows. Any time now, Dad’s men will return, and they’ll want answers.

  “How are you feeling?” she asks.

  “Fine.” I think I’ll stick to the story I thought of last night, where there was another guy with me who helped me escape. The nameless lieutenant. That seems to be the safest. It will help to make the renegade stuff ring truer. I’ll just have to say he didn’t want to get caught in Bluefield, being one of Barry’s men, and he hopped off a few miles back from where the patrol found me.

  The doctor sets a folder on my bed and checks my heartbeat, my wound, flashes a light in my eyes. She does all the usual stuff that doctors do and takes notes on her clipboard.

  I expect her to leave after that, but instead she pulls up a chair.

  “I don’t get many breaks,” she says. “I need a quiet place to go through and update my notes. Do you mind?”

  Odd. Well, everything’s different these days. “Sure.”

  She adjusts herself in her chair and opens her clipboard. Without looking at me, she reaches out and slides the folder closer to my hand.

  Is she…trying to keep it from falling off? I stare at it, at her, and let my mind drift.

  The doctor sighs an
d pushes the folder closer.

  Okay.

  Tentatively, just in case I’m reading her wrong, I cover it with my hand. She doesn’t so much as blink.

  The cover is marked “Confidential” in big red letters. I flip the cover back, and I find a half-dozen typewritten pages. It is a memo addressed to my father.

  I dart her a glance, but she is engrossed in her notes.

  I’ve only read the first paragraph, and I’m already freaked out. How the hell did she get this? She’ll be in some serious shit if anyone finds out.

  I’m shaking as I read through the document. When I get to the part where they talk about terminating the asset, I swallow. I’m the asset. Or I was. My eyes burn and I clench my teeth, but I keep reading. This section describes in detail the attack on the trailer and a soldier escaping into the woods, but nowhere does it indicate that Talon and I fled the scene.

  In fact, Talon’s name isn’t anywhere in here at all.

  Not even at the end.

  Miss Balenchuk, by all appearances, appears to have operated the gasoline-filled snowmobile alone. While this seems implausible, there is no evidence to suggest otherwise. When greeted by the patrol, she fell unconscious, making interrogation impossible.

  I’m shaking, and my breaths come shallow and fast. I hear noises in the hallway, so I tuck the pages back into the folder and slide it toward the doctor. Again, without looking at me, she collects it and tucks it behind her notes.

  I don’t know what to say. It’s been years since anyone’s treated me as anything other than an object to despise. Or control. What do you say to the person who’s put herself out on a limb and probably saved my ass?

  “Thank you.” My voice is strong, adamant. “Usually people don’t…help me. I won’t forget.”

  She gives me a curious smile. This woman is one hell of an actor. “I just like to make sure my patients are out of the woods before I send them home. It helps me sleep at night.”

  The door closes behind her, and it’s all I can do not to crawl out of bed and track down Sgt. Garret. What happened after I passed out? Did they or did they not kill Talon? I have to know. But I’m stuck here, bandaged and probably guarded too.