by K. A Knight
Feeling like a bitch, I knock on the glass. “You know I can see you, right?” I harass.
They ignore me, so I snoop around the room, getting bored. Feeling vindictive, I choose the big leather chair at the head of the table and place my boots on the pristine table, knocking dirt and sand everywhere as I wait for them, then I close my eyes and lean my head back against the leather and wait. They keep me waiting just long enough to be considered rude until I hear the clacking of their heels down the hallway. They are so loud, I could hear them coming from miles away. I keep my eyes closed as they enter the room, not giving them what they want—an audience to their show. This is all part of the plan to try and intimidate me, and I’m going to flip that on their fucking heads.
They have never met anyone like me.
The room goes silent. I can hear their brains whirling, they are clearly stumped on what to do. Did they think I would be nervously waiting in here? Bitch, please, I’ve faced down Nan after fucking all night. Nothing is scarier than that. Only when they start to shuffle do I crack my eyes open while leaning back casually in their chair. “Hello, boys, have we finished with the dick measuring contest? Let’s get down to business now, shall we?” I suggest, getting comfier as I scan them. The fools aren’t even carrying any weapons, depending only on their guards to keep them safe.
Just like pale faces.
The group gathered is made up of nearly all men, apart from one woman, who’s’ stern face, cold eyes, and tangible power make her the obvious pick for being a leader. Her hair is an auburn colour and pulled back so tightly in a bun that it stretches her eyebrows, making her look angry at all times. No hair dares to escape that grip. Her perfectly pink painted lips are thin and turned down. Her cheeks are also painted pink, and her tight skirt and white shirt look brand new. Fuck, she’s even wearing heels. To her right are two men who look similar—brothers, I would guess. They must be in their late forties, with grey, receding hair and bellies poking through their shirts. The only difference is one is taller with brown eyes and one is shorter with blue eyes. To the left of the woman is an older man, hunched over a cane. His head is bald on top with grey, thin hair on the side, his skin tanned and wrinkled with an angry looking scowl, and he is wearing a perfect suit. It all screams money and protection. These people have never suffered or worked a day in their lives. I’m betting they took advantage after the scorch and took charge, getting others to do the dirty work.
The old man steps forward. “Who are you?” he asks, positioning himself as leader, but I ignore him and look at the woman, recognizing a true leader when I see one. I don’t know what they were thinking trying to hide her from me. When I simply watch her, she huffs, throwing away the pretence.
The woman steps forward, her eyes running down me and ending on my dirty boots. Her lips purse and her eyes tighten, the only sign of her displeasure. “I was pulled from a meeting discussing the potential land grab…for her?” she snaps, looking at the men behind her. The old man steps forward and throws her a narrow-eyed look.
“Yes, she came with terms of war, she’s from the North,” he announces, and the woman throws her hands in the air.
“Most of these fucking savages are from the North! Do we just open the fucking doors to them whenever we feel like it? She’s one fucking woman!” she shrieks, her eyes twitching before she huffs and straightens her suit, and I start laughing.
“That’s what they all say, until I kill them.” I shrug then and pull out a knife, making them stumble back and their guards swear, but I simply start to clean my nails. “One woman, with three, wait, is it four armies? I can’t keep track, anyway, they are all waiting for you. If I don’t come back, they will storm your little Cities here, and they will get in and then you will all be dead. So, I suggest you sit the fuck down and listen for once in your life. I’m betting you are used to giving orders, but if you want to be alive at the end of the day, you are going to start taking them,” I finish, wagging my knife at them. None of them seem to know what to do, looking between each other instead, and I get bored. “Sit the fuck down,” I bark loudly.
They share looks, but slowly pull out chairs and sit down, all apart from the woman. “You’re in my seat,” she snarls, and I grin at her.
“So find a different fucking chair,” I reply, my blade glinting in the light.
When they are all seated, I pull down my feet and slip off my jacket, enjoying their gasps of shock at my extensive tattoos and scars. Twisting in my chair, I drape my legs over the end of the table and look them over, making them shift with my intense gaze as I let them sweat it out like they tried to do to me. “Right then. First things first, you have my men. I want them back or I am going to blow up this city building by building until I find them,” I say sweetly.
The two older brothers share looks. “Men?”
I ignore them, focusing on the woman. “Don’t play fucking dumb with me, sweetheart. You sent them North and when they didn’t return you took them back. They are mine. I want them, so go get them, or these negotiations go nowhere.”
“We don’t negotiate with savages,” she spits.
“Oh, you’re going to negotiate with me,” I purr. “Do I need to prove to you how serious I am? Which city do you like less?” I taunt, my face calm and cool.
“She’s bluffing,” the old man interjects.
“Maybe I am, but how will you know until it’s too late?” I reply, letting my face go cold. “Now get me my fucking men. The longer you wait, the angrier I get, and you don’t want me angry. I could kill you all without even breaking a sweat. You have ten minutes,” I order, and then with that, I close my eyes again, showing them exactly how unconcerned with them I am.
They are silent before I hear them start to whisper among themselves, without looking, I interrupt them. “Nine minutes. Which one of you will die first?” I wonder out loud, and they start to argue then.
“Eight minutes. I bet at least one of you will faint at the sight of blood, maybe even piss yourself in fear. You ever seen that? I have, real stink, not as much as when you shit yourself when you are dying,” I tell them, my eyes still closed, and I hear one of them get up and whisper to the guards at the door before they come back.
“We are bringing them up,” she snaps and I hum out loud.
“Seven minutes. There was this one guy. I hunted him for two weeks, really slippery bastard, but when I found him…damn, that boy knew how to beg. Never seen anything like it, and as I was cutting strips of his skin away, he screamed, I still remember that sound. Then he lost control of his bladder. You see, everyone breaks eventually. I wonder what your breaking point will be?”
I let them ponder that, while I feel their assessing gazes. “What’s your name?” the old man asks.
“I have many, The Champion, Berserker Queen, but feel free to call me Worth. Easier to beg with such a shorter word,” I taunt then open my eyes. “Who will I be killing? I do like to have a name to a face.”
“I am Phineese, this is William and Derkin,” the old man introduces.
“And I am Regina Locost, appointed prime minister of our government and Cities.” She sniffs, looking down her nose at me.
“Woopity fucking doo, queen beats prime minister, bitch. Five minutes,” I respond, and then shut my eyes again to the outrage on her face.
“You vulgar idiot. Did you really think coming here and demanding was going to work? We will wipe you savages from the map!” she snarls.
“Four minutes,” is all I say, and then I hear the door open and shuffled footsteps. I prepare myself, telling myself not to react if they are hurt or worse. I can’t let this woman see how much they mean to me, or she will use them against me ruthlessly. I compose myself and open my eyes, my heart racing and lungs wheezing for air, but my face is cold and calm, and when I look at my hand it isn’t shaking.
Sands below, thank fuck.
Only then do I raise my eyes and time seems to slow down. It has only been two weeks, two wee
ks without them, yet it felt like a lifetime. Every day dragging on, moving from one mess to another, fighting every minute not to race to their sides, and now I can see them again and all I want—
Where the fuck is Jax?
Rage surges through me, but so does terror. I count them again. They are blindfolded, but I know the difference between Drax and Jax and the way they stand. Their clothes are the same as when I was with them, but they are filthy and ripped, with blood covering some of it, and I note every cut and wound. Maxen starts to struggle against his bindings, and only then do I realise they are gagged.
“These men?” she asks, and I look over at her, noting the way she is focused on me, so I lean back. “I think you will find they were my men before they were yours.” She sniffs and I grin.
“You wouldn’t know what to do with them, lose the gags and blindfolds,” I order, and she narrows her gaze. I feel my men react to my voice, but I focus on her.
“Do not push your luck, savage,” she snaps, but nods at the guards and I turn back in time to see them pushed to their knees as the gags and blindfolds are removed, their hands still bound behind their backs.
I meet everyone one of their eyes. Maxen’s widen in fear, but then settle on smouldering as he runs them over me. Thorn’s are filled with relief and happiness, and my Drax’s gaze glints with amusement, but I see the flicker of fear there as well. I spot cuts, bruises, and dried blood everywhere I look. I can’t tell what is from injuries or worse, which will have to wait until I can inspect them later, but none of them look like they are about to die. Once I am sure they have nothing life threatening, I look back at Regina.
“Where is Jax?” I growl.
“Jax?” she replies, pretending to look confused, even though her lips are curling into a smirk. “I don’t know who that is.”
I hear them start to struggle. “You fucking—” Drax starts, but one of the guards smacks him with his gun across the face, and I am across the room in an instant, slitting the guard’s throat and stepping back. He falls to the floor, spurting blood everywhere as I grip the knife, ignoring the other guards who move towards me with guns out and shouts leaving their throats. Stepping to the table, I stab the bloody knife in the middle and lean closer, letting Regina look in my eyes and see how close I am to killing them all.
“Where is he?” I enunciate every word slowly, leaning into her space until I am looking deep in her eyes.
“Mi Alma,” Maxen rumbles from behind me, making me almost shiver. Fuck, I’ve missed him. I want to turn around and jump him, fuck these stuck up rich people. I want them in my arms, but I’m the leader now, and that comes with responsibilities, so I keep my gaze on her.
She shivers, fear tinting her expression as she leans back from me. “We don’t know, he escaped the second night they were here once we were...investigating where they had been,” she admits, and oh how it hurts her pride to share she lost him, but if he’s not here, he must be safe. I just wish I knew where, but at least I know he is alive.
I lean back slightly. “Investigate?” I drawl slowly. “Is that rich people’s way of saying you tortured them for information?”
I go cold all over as she just smiles at me, this fucking bitch. I grab the knife, ready to gut the bitch, but a soft touch lands on my shoulder, a touch I would know anywhere. “Mi Alma, it is not worth it, we are okay,” he murmurs quietly, just for me. I lean back into his touch before turning to face them.
Drax winks at me, although blood drips down his hairline from the gun, but he still has a smirk on his lips, and Thorn gives me that smile that makes my knees weak, while Maxen takes me in front head to toe, not missing a single thing. “You sure you are okay? ‘Cause I will kill them for you if you want?” I offer and Drax laughs.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you, babe.”
“Baby girl,” Thorn says fondly.
Maxen’s lips turn up as he cups my face. “Not yet, we knew you would come for us.” And despite the seriousness of the situation, he kisses me in front of them, kissing me hard, and I lose myself in him almost crying from how much I’ve missed him, but he pulls back, his eyes filled with amusement and love as he nods and then steps back. “You can fill us in later, for now, I’m betting if you are here instead of killing them all there is a reason.”
My fucking men, always ready to trust me and have my back despite being tortured for two weeks. Later, later I will check them over from head to toe and they will pay for hurting them, but Maxen is right. Stick to the plan, I remind myself, and straighten again as I flip off the guards who are still hesitating, looking from the dead man to me.
I slip back around the table and into my seat. “It’s not a real meeting without at least one death.” I smirk and Drax laughs.
“Or more, if you are here,” he teases, and I wink at him and turn my attention back to Regina. Then I lose all emotion, going into the mode I kill in, and let her see how much she has messed up. She swallows, but tilts her head back. Defiant until the end. Good, it will be more fun to break her. Maybe Ivar did pass on more than I thought, but right now, I couldn’t give two fucks.
“You came into my lands, you stole my men, killed my people, and then you tortured my men,” I say, and hold up my hand when she opens her mouth to speak. “Those are acts of war, prime minister,” I tell her, saying the title sarcastically.
“They were from our Cities, our people—” She starts.
“Which you sent up north to steal our land and secrets and report back.” I slowly start to wipe the blood on my knife away on the napkins on the table. “Now, prime minister, tell me why I shouldn’t kill you all?”
Fake It Till You Make It
“You speak of war, child, and you don’t know war,” the older man, Phineese, spits at me. I turn my head slowly to meet his eyes.
“I know more than you do, old man, sitting up here in your fucking glass towers with your workers to wipe your fucking ass, protect your walls, and feed you. I fought, every fucking day, to survive. I’ve killed more men and women than you can imagine. I have faced the devil himself and walked out of the flames with his scars on my skin. I have conquered clans and kingdoms, won fights and lost them. So, tell me, you old cunt, tell me again how I don’t know anything?”
He goes silent and I nod. “That’s what I thought. Where I stand, it is you who knows nothing. You’re here, secluded with your riches and slaves, and you know nothing of this world anymore. Nothing of what lies north, the land you tried to take from us so-called savages. You kicked the fucking hornet’s nest and now you have to pay the price. We will go to war and we will win, and I will take your cities and burn them to the ground…unless you give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
Just then, an explosion rocks the building, and the government gets to their feet, turning their eyes to their windows in shock. A smoke cloud billows in the distance, and over the shouts of the guards and the squabbling of the idiots in the room, I start to laugh. “Looks like you are running out of time, prime minister,” I sneer, and she turns to me in anger.
“This is you?” she screams, pointing at the window.
“No, I wish it was. Looks like you have more than me to worry about,” I reply and laugh.
I see Maxen’s calculating eyes flick to the windows and then back to me, and he smiles slowly, knowing I have a plan. “Calm down, that was a tiny bomb. Send your guards to investigate, but I won’t have you delaying anymore. We have business to discuss, and I will make that look like a cut on the fabric of your Cities if you ignore me once more,” I warn, deadly serious.
They look back at me, and Regina’s face flares in indignation before she sits stiffly on the edge of her seat before looking to the guards. “Send out Team A, find out who that was,” she orders, her voice hard, and one of them ducks out of the room, talking into the radio as she turns back to me, sniffing.
“We don’t want war with the North,” one of the brothers, the one with blue eyes, says and the brown eyed nods.
>
“We don’t,” he defends when she sends them a glare.
“It would be silly. So tell us, how do we make peace?” the old man asks and she interrupts.
“That it not your choice to make.” She turns back to me. “It is mine, I was voted in by my people to lead.”
“Voted in by the rich people,” I correct, and then wave for her to carry on.
“That decision is mine, so tell me…Worth. What do you want?”
“A nice beach somewhere and these guys naked, but that isn’t happening,” I snark, and my men laugh before I get serious. “It’s what you want. My armies are waiting to attack, you want peace. You want to ensure you haven’t angered the one person in the North capable of pardoning you, so why don’t you offer me something, prime minister?”
“We will allow you and your men here to leave, you may have them.” She waves her hand and I wait…is she serious? That’s it?
I laugh, I can’t help it. “You suck at negotiations.”
Her eyes narrow then. “It is what I am offering.”
“Not acceptable. Here are my terms.” I grin then, I’m not expecting her to keep them of course, but it’s good to lay them down. Fuck, if she does, it solves one issue. “My men leave with me, and I get whoever tortured them and I can do whatever I want to them. We leave the city with a treaty, which states you won’t come north we won’t come south.”
“You cannot!” the old man roars, rising to his feet.
“Sit down!” Regina screams before looking at me. “Do we have time to discuss this, as a government?”
More like time to prepare or think of a way around it. “Of course.” I nod, rising and sheathing my weapon.
She rises as well. “Until then, we will of course provide you with a suite to rest in, and your men can bathe. I will send some more clothes for them,” she offers, and I almost snarl. I don’t want to stay here, but if I say no, I’m the one breaking the truce, so I nod and allow her guards to escort us from the room to the elevator. I notice my swords over one guard’s elbow and narrow my eyes.