Ruptured: The Cantati Chronicles

by Gallagher, Maggie Mae

  May the gods protect me.

  If they were even listening …

  How had it come to this?

  Chapter Ten

  Outside, Luke and Ben were stationed near the general’s office door. They stood at attention as I closed the door behind me. Luke avoided eye contact with me. But they both saluted.

  “Lieutenant, your orders?” Ben asked, his normal jovial grin replaced by grim determination. I wanted to comfort him. He and Quinten had been real tight. They had gone through training together and had even been roommates. A lot of soldiers were forced to share rooms. With the overcrowding from citizens, there was nowhere else for us to put them.

  I saluted them back.

  “Ben, I want you to go to the armory and do a complete weapons inventory. Take Nick and if you need to, get Declan and Jared to assist. We need to know what our supplies look like.”

  “Yes, sir.” He replied, heading off to the armory.

  “Luke, walk with me.” I glanced at him, searching for the man I knew hidden by the current gruff exterior. He mourned Quinten. We all did. It was more though. He acted like I had betrayed him somehow. By the gods, men were more emotional creatures than women.

  We needed to discuss the Council’s ruling. Although, his demeanor made me think that, unlike Quinten, or hell even Cade, he would not be pleased by the news.

  “After you, Lieutenant.” Luke gestured for me to proceed. The moment we were out of hearing range of the Command Center, he let loose. “What the hell happened out there? I knew Quinten, and even he wouldn’t have disobeyed a direct order unless he had been coerced.”

  Luke was right, Quinten never would have disobeyed a direct order, not without provocation. With my back to Luke, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and gave him as much of the truth as I was willing to share. He couldn’t ever know the full extent I had played in Quinten’s demise. Cade wasn’t the only one with a cell waiting for him in hell. I had a nice one of my very own reserved.

  “He went because I ordered him to,” I confessed. A tear slipped down my cheek. I had thought I had used up all my tears. I swiped it from my cheek before he noticed it.

  “Why would he do that?” I felt Luke hovering behind me. If I were given to fanciful musings, I’d say he wanted to shake the answers out of me.

  What could I say? That he had wanted me for years and I used him to get out of a bad situation? That I persuaded him to follow me into hell, and he went willingly to his doom? I would carry that guilt with me all the days of my life, regardless of how short or long it may be.

  “When the sirens went off a second time, Quinten and I knew it was bad. We made a difference out there. He made a difference. But he was out-maneuvered, and I couldn’t get to him fast enough.” I swallowed, attempting to moisten my dry throat. That much was true at least. Cade had out-gunned him.

  “Do you really believe that?” He dragged me into my room and crossed his arms over his chest. The muscles in his arms flexed. I focused on those muscles instead of the condemnation glaring in his face. Then it hit me. My gaze shot up and I glanced in Luke’s eyes. He wasn’t really angry with me, it was just a mask that covered the guilt that was eating him alive. He believed this attack, and all the losses were his fault.

  “We needed every soldier in that fight. I have made some bad choices in my time, I won’t deny that. But this wasn’t one of them. If we hadn’t gone, then the Compound would have been breached. I’m sorry that your powers have been compromised by Drystan. Quinten’s death was not your fault. None of them were, do you hear me? You didn’t know. None of us did.”

  Luke turned away and punched the wall. He pounded his fist repeatedly in the same spot and blood bloomed on the white wall. I grabbed his arm before he could smash his fist against the wall again. He shot me a ferocious look as I restrained his arm, his blue eyes cloudy with his turbulent emotions. I slid my arms around him and embraced him.

  Luke and I had never really touched in anything more than a plutonic way. He stood stiffly, as though he held himself together like a tightly wound watch. I stood fast, holding him close. A breath shuddered from deep within him, and his arms enveloped me, pulling me tightly against him as the dam of his emotions burst free.

  I held him as the storm of his emotions battered him. Smoothing my hands across his back, I soothed him as best I could. Standing inside the circle of his arms, I allowed some of my own grief to subside. In our world, life was short and brutal. It was rarer still, to find solace in the starkness of our lives. And in this moment, I accepted the comfort he returned. I waited for Luke to withdraw before moving away.

  “Better?” I asked, rubbing his arms.

  “Yes. Thanks.” He replied, the sorrow remained but was no longer drowning him.

  I spied blood welling and seeping from his swollen knuckles. I hoped like hell he hadn’t broken them in his fury. “Let me clean you up. Come on.”

  I went into my bathroom, expecting him to follow. He did. I grabbed my medicine kit from under the stainless steel sink. Setting it on the small steel shelf, I turned to him. The restricted confines of my tiny bathroom were more pronounced with his six-two frame standing within it.

  “Did the Council reinstate you?” he asked.

  “Yes, they did.” I clasped his injured hand, rinsing the blood from his knuckles. Unsure of his reaction, I continued hesitantly, “The Council has also made you my mate.”

  “They did, huh? And you and the general had nothing to do with that?” He replied sardonically.

  “Look, Luke, we’re friends. I’m sorry that I put you in this position, that the general asked this of you. The Council asked me, and I chose you. I’d rather it be someone I actually like. I’m sorry if this is not what you want. It only has to be a farce to keep me in command.”

  Luke studied me, a light in his eyes different from anything I had ever seen. Did he desire a union between us?

  “Say something,” I pleaded with him as I wrapped his hand.

  “Yes, I’ll do it. On one condition,” he stepped forward, closing the gap between us. My breath caught. I put my hands up to keep some distance between us, and my hands met his solidly muscled chest.

  “What?” He almost seemed like the Luke I knew, but more confident in his footing with me.

  “That our union not be a farce. That we are mated to each other in fact as well as deed.” He sounded pretty pleased with himself.

  Great mother goddess!

  “Luke, I …” I wasn’t ready. My emotions had been through a whirlpool in the last few days, and I hardly knew what direction was up.

  “That’s the condition or I walk and inform the Council. I will be here after patrol and we can begin,” he bluntly stated. Son of a bitch was blackmailing me, and he knew it. He had me over a barrel and whether I wanted it or not, he was stealing my choice. I deserved it, I guessed, since I had done the same to him with the Council.

  I was out of options. In order to help our people, I needed to be in the field. If the way to do so was to be mated to Luke in truth, then so be it. I could imagine worse fates. “We can begin after our patrol.”

  “Really? You’re sure?” He studied me for any hint of discord.

  “Yes.” I assured him. For better or worse, we were mates. I slid my body closer and watched his pupils dilate, darkening to midnight. I noticed the tick in his jaw, and the pulse in his neck thumped. He wanted me that much was certain. My emotions were too much of a jumbled mess to feel anything more than relief. I was back where I belonged, in command of my squad.

  “Good.” He pulled me close, with the hint of a smile on his face.

  The ground rumbled and shook.

  Sirens blared.

  Sweet merciful goddess!

  Luke and I stared at each other. Our interchange momentarily suspended. A noxious mix of smoke, gunpowder, and sulfur began to fill the room. I heard screams.

  Another attack? So close to the last one? What the hell?

  “We nee
d to go.” I maneuvered out of Luke’s arms, pushing past him out of the bathroom. From the sounds of it, the Cantati needed every soldier out fighting Drystan’s forces.

  “Stay, until we know more. For me, please,” he asked. I was his superior officer, regardless of the fact that we were mates in the eyes of the Council. The thought of hiding in my room while the rest of humanity battled for survival riled my blood. My squad needed me more than I needed to assuage his ownership of me.

  “Not gonna happen, major. I need you with me on this. Let’s go.” I would not stay locked in my room like a Breeder. Another ground shattering rumble boomed, rattling even my teeth. There would be time to argue the finer points of this relationship later. Right now, we had to join the fight.

  I grabbed my gun. Luke begrudgingly nodded his agreement and we raced into storm.

  -The End-

  More Books from Maggie Mae Gallagher:

  The Cantati Chronicles:

  Anointed, The Cantati Chronicles, Book One

  Ruptured, The Cantati Chronicles, Prequel Novella

  Ascended, The Cantati Chronicles, Book Two – coming Spring 2015

  Visit Maggie at:

  Website

  Twitter: @magmaegallagher

  Facebook

  ANOINTED

  By Maggie Mae Gallagher

  *********

  My name is Alana Devereaux. I enjoy the simple things in life, walks in the park, sky gazing, and ripping a demon’s heart out through its chest. I am a demon slayer, the last of my kind, and I have been sent back through time to save your world. How am I doing so far? My time travel went haywire, all the signs I needed to stop the prophecy have passed, and the only way I can save my world is by keeping yours from ending. Then there’s Gaelen, most days I want to deck him. He hides his true motives and if it was not for the intel he had, I would be rid of him. Any day in my life without a demon attack is a good day; I haven’t had a whole lot of those lately. The only problem is, if I don’t stop the Mutari, this world will burn.

  Enjoy the following excerpt from

  ANOINTED …

  *********

  Year 83 After Mutari

  Bloody hell! The Coven’s barriers had failed.

  “Get to the Command Center,” I shouted at Luke, Ben and Nick as I passed, my voice drowned out by screeching air raid sirens.

  Demons? Inside the compound? They were an incessant wave bent on destroying every man, woman, and child who crossed their path. How the hell did they get in? The Densare Council had never experienced a breach of this magnitude.

  Ben and Luke shouldered past me with their guns drawn, Nick a heartbeat behind. Men pretended women were good for nothing but the continuation of the species. They were our protectors in every fight, but I was better than any man and they knew it. Lights flickered sporadically, the fluorescent bulbs sputtering a few seconds before total darkness descended. Demons cut the power grid. The new cross-breed bastards were smarter than the average hell’s spawn.

  Red hazards stuttered on as the generator kicked into gear. Emergency lights buzzed. I lost sight of the guys ahead as the glow bounced off concrete gray walls in a mismatched fashion creating pockets of total darkness.

  The command center seemed miles away. Already sprinting full out, I pushed my legs harder. My muscles strained under the brutal treatment.

  The ground buckled. Chunks of concrete sprayed skyward. Shielding my face with my hands, my feet lost their purchase and I stumbled into the wall.

  Son of a bitch, were they using grenades? Smoke billowed in the halls. A suffocating mixture of sulfur and gun powder penetrated my lungs. My eyes burned, blinded by smoke so thick it muted the glow of the hazard lights.

  How would demons obtain grenades, for God’s sake? Demons weren’t braincases. What new horror had they unleashed on humanity? Was it not enough that our numbers decreased every day?

  My gun drawn, I raced around the next blind corner. The pop of rapid gunfire exploded. The tink, tink, tink of shell casings from Ben’s forty caliber made me smile. He loved that gun. The reverberation echoed throughout the corridors.

  A horde of Hathas, big grey, eight-foot monstrosities with lethal strength, advanced on the line of soldiers. Drystan’s foot soldiers were waylaying our men, two and three at a time. The tight quarters outside the Command Center made it difficult to maneuver.

  I had to reach the Command Center. We were being overrun … fast.

  One by one, every gun was silenced. Horrified screams shattered the stillness. I recognized three bloodcurdling moans: Ben, Nick, and Luke were dying. The demons were hungry, their sharp tusks now bathed in blood. I shuddered. It was not the way I wanted to die.

  Soldiers positioned at the center door used flame throwers to rain fire upon the demon mass approaching. I darted along the wall, ever at the ready to empty my clip into a demon. Burnt flesh heavily scented with sulfur smothered my senses as I charged around the last corner. My father, General Casey O’Hara, shouted the order to seal the center doors.

  May the gods help all those left outside.

  Declan and Jared shoved them closed as I slid across the threshold. The doors were made of concrete and reinforced steel. Once sealed, nothing could get in or out.

  The Cantati were losing this fight. We sorely needed a plan. The attack seemed organized. Their formations sent my sensors into overdrive. Who led them? Or better yet, why had they been unleashed? This assault was different from the rest. The certainty of it resonated in my bones.

  Jared and Declan strained with a heavy metal black cabinet that stood taller than either man. Metal scraped concrete as they positioned it up against the door. Could the Hathas get through? There had been a smattering of cross-breeds in the group—those half demon, half human abominations were like rabid dogs on steroids.

  After my last mission, it was better that we were all fully armed and prepared than caught with our pants down. “Colin, open the weapons chest and make sure everyone is fully armed, got it?” I ordered the freckle-faced kid, barely old enough to shave, on my right as I gasped oxygen into my lungs. My pulse pounded from my mad dash. A few years in the field and his skin wouldn’t be so unblemished—if he made it a few years. Had I ever been that green? At twenty-three, compared to him, I was ancient.

  “Yes, Lieutenant. Right away, ma’am,” Colin replied with something akin to reverence. At least he recognized the chain of command, even with someone who was persona non grata at the moment.

  “Alana, my office. Now,” General O’Hara demanded. Cantati forces taking up positions near the center door glanced back at his harsh command.

  Well shit, that took a lot longer than I thought it would.

  When he gave a command, you followed it or he relieved you. His voice stirred, leaving traces of apprehension along my spine.

  “But … sir?” I cringed inwardly. Glancing at his tall, sturdy frame, always dressed in camo military garb, I admitted he had every right to be pissed. My hands balled into fists. At a time like this, what the hell had gotten into him? We needed to form a counter offensive, not discuss the varied details of my recent failure. If we survived this assault, we could examine the fact that an entire Cantati squad was nothing more than demon fodder because of me. The images from that mission had been emblazoned upon my soul. I shoved it from my mind because if I allowed it, the guilt would swallow me whole.

  Barking his response in short, clipped words, he bellowed. “No time, damn it! My office, NOW!” He stiffly turned, expecting me to follow. Snarling a command over his shoulder he shouted, “Keep that door closed. Don’t let those bastards in.”

  Bloody hell, like I didn’t have enough problems with these guys. They’d talk about my sparring with the General for weeks. Dread churned my belly. I ignored the dozen pair of eyes that studied my reaction, me the fabled ice queen who’d led good men to their deaths. They all blamed me. Head held high, unwilling to falter beneath their steely gazes, I followed him and focused on his bald h
ead instead of their glares. As I walked past the blinking computer lights and sector radar, I shot a quick glance at the map and my blood chilled. I marched past the radar into Dad’s office. He’d bark, but he knew I was the best he had.

  Dad typed a code into his computer with enough force I thought the keyboard buttons would fall off from the reverberation. The wall behind his desk moved, sliding open to reveal a hidden room.

  Bloody hell.

  There was a vault in Dad’s office? It was small, not much larger than a walk-in closet, the inside walls lined with silver metal compartments, each locked with a security keypad. He stepped to the far left corner, keyed in a second code, and had his thumb print scanned. A hatch opened seamlessly, emitting a luminescent violet light. He removed two items from the vault, a glowing jade orb the size of my hand and a leather-bound manuscript.

  The vault door closed upon his exit. Dad sat across from me at his desk. I’d always thought of his heavy, old-world, wooden desk as Dad’s one concession to history. His lips tensed into a flat, compressed line; his eyes searched mine. Fingers of dread reached up, grabbed ahold of my windpipe and squeezed. I didn’t want to hear what he was about to say.

  Sorrow flitted through his brown gaze for a split second. A shock-wave rumbled through the compound and the resounding boom from another grenade rent the air. “Your orders are to travel back and stop the Mutari.”

  “What?” I croaked. He wanted me to stop the Mutari? It was the single biggest event to ever happen to mankind. Eighty years ago by our best estimate, Drystan, ruler of Infernus, breached the walls between his realm and ours, unleashing his demon armies upon humanity. Billions of humans died within the first twenty-four hours of the assault. He wanted me to stop that?

  No way.

  Shaking my head, I was sure I heard him wrong. Could he actually send me to another time? Time travel wasn’t possible, was it?