“There’s someone in here who doesn’t belong.” A radio squawked. “104, we have an intruder spotted behind main office, over.”
The man with her follower asked, “How do you know it’s an intruder? Maybe they just—”
“It was a woman.” He picked up his radio again. “104, do you read, over?”
“Affirmative, Carson. Where are you—?”
“There’s an intruder, 104, numbers only.” The man kept his voice low, but Brigid could hear it all. “I’m currently between Position B and Position D. Please advise.”
“Are you alone, 205?”
“213 is with me.”
“Stay together, search for the intruder, detain, and report in ten.”
“You’ll spread the word?”
“I’m on it. Description?”
“Slim female, five six or seven. Athletic build. Skinny even. Short dark hair. Vest and neck guard.”
“On it. I’ll alert the gate guard.”
“Why alert the…?” The man called 205 huffed out a breath and hung his radio on his shoulder. “Why alert the guardhouse?” He muttered, “It’s not like they’re going to admit they have a breach.”
“Maybe she’s on the payroll?” the man named 213 said. “Maybe we just haven’t met her yet?”
“You think O’Neill’s going to hire a female? In this place?”
The other man laughed darkly. “Good point.”
“Come on.” The two men headed in the direction of the warehouse. “Let’s make sure everything is secure.”
What was everything? Brigid lowered herself from the easy perch in the tree and made her way to the side of the warehouse where she could see a rusted staircase leading to the second floor.
What are you hiding, boys?
She climbed the staircase, cringing with every squeak and creak. After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the door, only to find it locked.
Damn. Where was her brute of a husband when she needed him?
* * *
The girl holding the knife grabbed the radio on the guard’s shoulder and tossed it on the ground. She stomped on it, then pulled the knife out of the man, swung her arm back farther, and stabbed him again, going deeper and higher on the second strike, directly under his bulletproof vest and into his soft, unprotected side.
“You fucker!” she growled. “You think you can touch me and live? I told you I’d kill you, motherfucker.”
Carwyn was frozen as the girl executed the man with little more than a filed piece of scrap metal. The guard had stood no chance against her speed, fury, and excellent aim.
As he slumped to the ground, a trickle of blood came from the corner of the man’s mouth. The girl with the knife pulled it out of the guard’s belly and spat on his face as he collapsed.
The girl turned to the rest of them and didn’t even flinch. “He raped me and my roommate.” She pointed to the quiet girl holding a baby. “I told him I’d kill him, and he beat me up.” She looked over her shoulder. “You laughing now, you motherfucker?”
“Language, Celia.” The girl’s roommate was barely audible. “There are little kids here.”
“Whatever.” The girl looked around. “Hey, big man, why don’t you break the last door so we can get the hell out of here, okay?”
Ignoring the girl’s imperious tone, Carwyn walked to the last door and pushed it in with one shoulder, shoving the broken barrier aside for Ronnie and Crystal to grab the teen girl he saw cowering in a corner. Carwyn pointed at Oso and snapped his fingers, pointing toward the dark junkyard. Oso nodded; then he, Lupe, and Didi started moving the rest of the kids to the end of the dorms and toward the darkness.
Carwyn walked over to the girl called Celia, who was standing over the man she’d stabbed, watching him slowly bleed out. The guard’s eyes were wide and staring. Blood dripped from his lips and he moved his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out.
“Is there anyone else?” he asked.
Celia looked at the other rooms. “No. I was counting the kids just before I saw this motherfucker. Those last two make twenty-three.”
“What happened to the other two?”
“One of the babies is gone. I don’t know what they did with him—he was really young, probably not even a year. One of the guards might have taken him or something. The other one was the crying girl, and you already checked her room. She’s gone.”
Carwyn didn’t want to take a chance. He jogged down the rest of the dormitory, but he didn’t smell any humans in the rooms, so he walked back to Celia. He bent down and picked up the dying guard’s gun. He bent it in half while Celia watched. Then he bent down and snapped the man’s neck.
“A wound like that,” he said grimly, “is a slow and painful death.”
Celia nodded. “I know.”
Carwyn met her dark eyes, held her stare, and the girl didn’t flinch, not even at the giant standing in front of her. “Come on,” he said. “The little ones need us to get to get them out.”
“I’d never hurt any of the kids.”
“I know.” Carwyn looked down at the dead man. “If I doubted that, you wouldn’t be coming with us.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Giovanni had told her it was possible, but she’d never really tried. Brigid held the flame in her hand and tried to concentrate it, gripping the metal doorknob and focusing the heat her body produced into the lock that kept her from finding out what was in the warehouse. She could hear voices inside and hoped that the cover of night was enough to conceal her from the men below who were looking for her.
She felt the metal heat; then it slowly started to smell. It began to glow softly, eventually turning from a cherry red to a dusty white. She pushed it, and the metal collapsed like wet cardboard.
“Well fuck me sideways,” she muttered. “Can’t believe that worked.” Watch her lockpick anything from now on! Doors meant nothing to her. “Now, let’s see what you naughty boys are up to.”
Brigid pulled the creaking door out with the edge of a baton she had tucked into her waistband. The metal was already weakened; unfortunately, that didn’t make the hinges any less squeaky.
“What was that?”
She darted into the nearest shadow and pressed herself against the wall when the siren chirped.
“Probably just a rat.” There were two more men, both wearing the same black BDUs and vests that the men outside wore. On the back of their vest, Canyon Security was emblazoned in white block letters.
The man angled his neck to his radio. “Carson, you seeing anything outside?”
“Did you see something? Fuck me, I told you, Jason!”
“Hey, I thought we were only doing numbers.”
The men in the warehouse were confused. “What the hell are you two arguing about?”
“We saw a woman outside, heading toward the warehouse, over.”
“Did’ja call O’Neill?”
“Numbers, 301! Fucking use your numbers, for fuck’s sake.”
“Whatever.” He snapped off his radio. “God, this guy’s such a douche. I wish O’Neill’d never moved these guys in.”
“We need the extra manpower with all the extra cargo though.”
“Do we?” The man walked over and lifted an edge of the crate. “I mean, a couple of forklifts, a few trucks, and we’re in the money.” He shook his head. “No more pissant requisition forms, right?”
The second guard lifted what looked like a brick of white powder from the crate. “How much for just this one?”
“I got no fucking idea, but O’Neill knows. That’s all I care about.”
So they were moving drugs. Sounded like they might have been legitimate government contractors at one point, but they were way past that. These mercenaries hadn’t just put coyotes out of business, they’d become the coyotes.
“Did you hear that?”
Brigid froze, but it wasn’t her making the noise.
No, it was the steps leading up to her second-
floor perch that were creaking, and creaking fast.
She moved farther down the walkway, trying to move as carefully as possible so as not to alert the men on the floor of the warehouse.
“213, what happened to the door?”
“Looks like someone brought a torch,” the guard said. “It’s completely compromised.”
“I’m calling backup.”
The voices were getting closer. Brigid crept to the highest stack of boxes she could find, swung herself over, and dropped to the top of the crates as quietly as possible.
“What was that?”
“I’m telling you, I’d a—”
“If you say a fucking rat again, I’m gonna punch your dick. That wasn’t a fucking rat.” A beam of light swung wildly around the warehouse. “Screw this—I’m turning the main lights on.”
With only seconds to spare, Brigid swung down from the top of a loaded pallet to the ground. She landed softly and pressed her nose to the cardboard next to her.
Jesus wept, that wasn’t cocaine as she’d thought. This was one hundred percent pure, medical-grade heroin.
Brigid’s mouth watered and her fangs dropped on instinct. The urge to bury her face in the sweet smell was nearly overwhelming, but she fought it back. It was exactly as she’d told Daniel; the hunger was screaming at her, but she knew it would never be sated. It never could be. Even a human high on heroin wasn’t a good substitute.
The guards were talking into their radios as Brigid nearly blissed out on the scent of the drug she’d always crave. The memories of oblivion smashed into her brain, reminding her of every euphoric high that had taken her away from reality.
Snap out of it.
Brigid slapped her cheek and bit viciously into her forearm to shake the fuzziness from her brain. Funnily enough, her mind never reminded her about the puking or the body aches or the fevers. She never remembered any of the bad stuff, just the sweet purple oblivion of the drugs.
“Did you hear that?” The torch beam swung dangerously close to the crate where she was hiding. “I’m calling O’Neill.”
Brigid sat on the ground, her back against the pallet of heroin, silently debating what she should do.
“I don’t fucking have time to deal with this shit.” A snarling voice, heavy with smoker’s growl, entered the warehouse. “I got these fucking hippies at the front gates, two dead guards, and an empty dormitory, so what the hell do you want from me, McGill?”
“Captain, there’s someone in the warehouse.”
“So find them, you useless ball sack, and kill them while I go track down those fucking girls! I’ve got buyers to meet in the morning, and this isn’t part of the plan.”
Empty dorms? Tracking down girls? Well, they didn’t need to be doing that. It looked like fate had decided for her. The foolish men of Canyon Security Company needed another distraction to keep their attention focused away from Carwyn’s kids.
Brigid flicked a lighter and gathered a ball of fire in her hand before she lobbed it up and over the pallet, where it landed smack in the middle of the arguing men.
“What the hell is that?” someone screamed.
“Molotov cocktail!” another yelled. “The hippies are in the building. They got in!”
Brigid laughed and lobbed another one.
This was going to be fun.
* * *
In the distance, an alarm went up. Carwyn and Oso exchanged a final look as the man ducked his head into the tunnel and followed the kids who’d already entered the darkness.
“Go,” Carwyn said. “Don’t wait for me. Get the children back to Liberty Springs. I’m going to make sure Brigid is okay and that no one is following you.”
Oso’s eyes went wide. “Man, what are you doing?”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. And I’ll take care of this tunnel. Trust me, it’ll look like nothing was ever here. Just get in the truck and drive away. Jitters will take care of you all until Brigid and I get there.”
“Lupe’s gonna freak.”
Carwyn put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Then it looks like you’re going to have to reassure them. All of them. I’ll be back soon, Oso. Just hang in there and get back to the Springs.”
He turned without another thought. It wasn’t that he doubted Brigid. Far from it. He just wanted to make sure she didn’t do anything she’d regret later.
* * *
Brigid walked through the burning warehouse, lighting things on fire as the sprinkler system put them out. It wasn’t a great system. Newer systems poured water onto flames. This was more of a gentle shower, far from enough to quench the kind of flames she was throwing out.
“There!”
A punch in the chest told her that another bullet had hit her armor. She could recover from nearly anything that didn’t destroy her head or pierce her spine, but she didn’t want to chance the gun-happy guards in this place. She slipped between two burning pallets and felt the heat dancing along her skin.
“Are you just playing, ye thick bollocks?” She tossed another ball of flame near the door to keep them from escaping. “Throw something useful at me, ye tools.”
There was indistinct shouting all around her. Brigid felt the flames inside herself, aching to get out, aching to snap and consume. She could eat the evil men who peddled drugs and traded in children. What would happen to them otherwise? Should she trust a human government to punish them?
No.
“The warehouse! Everything’s burning!”
“Get the pallets out!” a gritty voice screamed at the men. “Get the forklift. Get them out!”
She flexed her shoulders and removed the bulletproof vest. She unhooked the neck guard and walked to the center of the warehouse, ash and water creating black rivulets running down her bare skin.
Brigid looked for the man they called O’Neill. He was an old, wrinkled wreck of a man with a sneering mouth and a buzz-cut head. His eyes locked on her, and she saw his eyes grow wide in confusion as he mouthed, What the fuck?
She pointed at him and smiled. Then Brigid held out her arms, released the fire, and flames rolled out from her body as the hungry inferno consumed everything.
* * *
Carwyn found her sitting naked on a rise overlooking the burning warehouse. She’d found a tarp to drape around her shoulders, and a solid inch of her velvet-brown hair was burned at the nape.
He sat next to her and watched the fire. “Good distraction. I’d say it might be overkill, but one of the kidnapped girls stabbed a guard with a piece of old license plate, so I probably don’t have any moral high ground to preach from.”
“They were shipping drugs.” Her eyes were locked on the burn. “Heroin. Very high grade.”
Always a sore subject. He ran a gentle hand over her hair. “They won’t be shipping it now.”
“The warehouse collapsed with men in it. Probably a dozen or so. Maybe more.”
“I killed the guard the girl stabbed. He might have survived if someone found him, but we didn’t have time and I made a split-second decision.”
“It wasn’t split-second for me,” Brigid said. “I wanted all of them to die.”
“Why?”
“They stole kids. Talked about them like they were just another thing to trade. Drugs. Weapons. Children. And they’d probably get away with it. The children will remember this trauma their whole lives. Every single day, they’ll remember the fear.”
She would know. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her head to his shoulder.
She remembered. Every night.
“Are you looking for absolution, Saint Brigid?”
“Maybe.”
“I can’t offer you any, for I don’t think you did a wrong.” And maybe that was wrong of him, but that was also the world they lived in.
She looked up, and her eyes were still the most beautiful sight of his eternity, whiskey gold burned grey around the iris. Immortal eyes. Eyes that saw pain and chose kindness.
“J
ustice,” Carwyn whispered, “doesn’t always mend with mercy. Sometimes it mends with blood.”
“Are the children safe?” She shook her head. “As if you’d be here if they weren’t.”
“I’ll always run after you, sweet girl.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m a fool in love with my darling.”
Fire engines were turning in to the compound, breaking through the gates, with protesters following in their wake.
“They’ll find evidence of the children in the dormitories,” Carwyn said. “But you need to come with me now, my Brigid; we don’t want them to find the tunnel.”
“Right.” She rose and threw off the tarp. “Nothing like a naked run in the desert to finish off a night of fire and destruction.”
“That’s the spirit.” He stripped off his pants and left them in the dirt.
“My God.” Brigid covered her eyes. “The full moon isn’t so bright as that arse.”
Carwyn tossed his shirt in the air with a giant whoop and ran, naked as the day he was born, as the woman he adored beyond reason followed him, her rueful laugh lifting his heart higher than the stars.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brigid stood by the fire in Didi’s compound as the misfit residents of Liberty Springs came together in the middle of the night to set up tents, sleeping bags, warm blankets, pillows, air mattresses, and anything else they could find to make the frightened refugees from Miller’s Range comfortable and welcome.
The children were still in shock, but Brigid could already see the astonishing resilience of youth emerging through the traumatic night. Siblings who had been separated were together again. Babies were being held by experienced and loving arms.
Lupe, Ronnie, and Crystal were making a game of guessing names and ages with the children, trying to garner bits of information that might help them find their families. Stuffed animals and a few dolls had magically appeared, only to be clutched in nervous arms as twenty-three children and teens tried to make sense of yet another new reality.
Saint’s Passage: Elemental Covenant Book One Page 19