New World Rising

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New World Rising Page 11

by Wilson, Jennifer


  Did I?

  I rushed to the roof’s edge as Maddox and Arden caught up. Arden dove over the side landing on the fire escape. His feet had barely touched the rusted metal before he opened fire on the surging bodies below. Maddox spared one icy glare for me before joining the throng.

  Bodies were strewn in the alley, but they weren’t ours. Their skin was tainted odd colors. Taciturns.

  We were surviving, not just surviving but winning. Every member of the guard was still on their feet. I leaned out further but didn’t yet join the fight. Torn.

  Run or help? Run… or stay?

  I could see Triven moving below me, his sandy hair easily visible in the dark. He moved with a perilous grace. Without shedding a bullet or unsheathing a knife, he advanced like a shadow through the alley, debilitating the Tribesman as he went. It took me a moment to realize he wasn’t killing them; he was just rendering them unconscious. He moved with perfect precision. It seemed as if he saw everything around him all at once, everything but one man.

  But I saw him.

  As the tattooed arm rose, the glint of the black blade flashed in the night. There was no mistaking his target. The man’s eyes were on Triven.

  I didn’t hesitate.

  Launching myself from the ledge, I grabbed the fire escape railing. My hands caught for only a second, allowing me to better my aim. I dropped once more, letting two stories fall past, my hands recalculating on the next landing. Then just as quickly as before, I let go and dropped the last fifteen feet.

  I could feel the man’s bones break as my feet landed on his back. The muscular body crumpled beneath me, absorbing the full impact of my fall. Triven turned in shock as I crashed down beside him. Two seconds later and there would have been a knife in his back. I wanted to keep looking into those hazel eyes, but there was no time.

  Taciturns mobbed us. Everywhere I turned, tattooed bodies appeared, their weapons slashing, firing and stabbing.

  Fear shut off and the instinctual animal within me was unleashed.

  It took me less than three seconds to disarm an attacker and turn her weapon back on her. In another three seconds, I had a knife for my left hand and another two Taciturns lay at me feet. A gun fired somewhere near my head and I had to blink to keep my vision clear. The ringing in my ear deafened all of the other sounds in the alley. I blinked again as I struggled to find focus. There was something fuzzy coming into focus at the back of the alley. A girl was pinned to the ground with a Taciturn male over her, but she was not fighting back. Her head lolled to the side as she struggled for consciousness. I recognized the dark curly hair. Archer. The man sat astride her as his fingers traveled over her chest, the other hand pressed a knife to her throat.

  I could feel a strand of sanity within me snap, and my vision went red. The knife left my hand instantly, and even as it lodged into his side I charged. I was on him before he could react. My weapons were forgotten as my fists collided over and over with his face. I knew he wasn’t one of the men who had raped my mother, he wasn’t Maddox leering at my naked body in the showers, but at that moment, he was. He was all of those things. I punched until his face was no longer recognizable.

  A large hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me. I thrust to kill, and froze. My knife stopped at the assailant’s throat, a thick trickle of blood running from beneath the blade.

  Triven stood frozen, his gentle eyes wide but calm as they watched me. The knife fell from my hand. It sounded so loud as it clattered to the ground.

  “I’m sorry.” I said in a trembling voice. My body began to shake, but I didn’t feel cold.

  “Phoenix.” Triven whispered my name as he moved towards me, but I jumped backwards.

  “I’m sorry.” I shook my head, my eyes widening. I had lost control… I had almost killed him.

  He moved towards me again and this time I did not move. His muscular arms wrapped around me, and despite myself, I fell against his chest.

  “I’m sorry.” Why couldn’t I find any other words?

  He smoothed my hair, “It’s okay. We’re okay. We have to get moving though, it isn’t safe.”

  I nodded as he released me. Following his lead, I took Archer under the arm and we moved back towards the door leading to The Subversive bunker.

  THERE WERE MINOR injuries— a few bullet grazes, a couple shallow knife wounds and Archer had a concussion—but overall we had been very fortunate. The reconnaissance mission hadn’t been a complete waste. The access to The Sanctuary was definitely not on the premises, but Archer’s team had found a surprise stash of Sanctuary-grade weaponry in the warehouse. Technology that advanced had definitely not come from Tartarus. There was a surplus of heat-seeking guns, titanium knives, motion sensor bombs and lightweight body armor. While we didn’t find the entrance to The Sanctuary, we did find proof that someone was smuggling weapons out to the Ravagers. And if there was a way to get weapons out, then there was a way to get in.

  Once we were back inside I avoided everyone. I helped get Archer to Doc Porters and then slipped out during the chaos. I felt Triven’s eyes on me as I left, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t even bear to find Mouse, to tell her I was okay, because I wasn’t. I couldn’t look at her innocent face after what I had done. Not yet anyway.

  There was still blood on my hands. Some of it was my own, but the rest was a morbid reminder of what I had just done. I practically ran to the shower room, eager to wash the evidence from my skin, to shed my tainted clothing and hide behind the locked door.

  I stood in the shower until it turned cold and even then I couldn’t shake the sickness rolling through my stomach. I had scrubbed at my hands until they were raw. The Taciturns’ blood had long since washed off, now only my own tinted the water as I ran the soap over my raw skin. My knuckles were bruised and split, but I continued to scrub until they burned. I had never lost control before, never forgotten who I was, but tonight I did. And it had almost cost Triven his life. The person I had leapt from a building to save, nearly died at my own hand in my blinded rage.

  When I finally emerged from the shower room— with the feeling of death still on my skin— there was a figure leaning against the wall waiting for me. She was moving, slower than usual, her dark eyes still slightly unfocused. I hovered in the doorway watching her.

  Archer hesitated, “Um… Triven told me what you did.”

  I cringed. Waiting for her wrath. I deserved it. I had almost killed him.

  “I am in your debt. Thank you for saving my life.” She couldn’t meet my eyes.

  That was not what I had been expecting.

  “Oh… It was nothing really.” I had saved Archer, but for the first time in my life I ended another’s out of rage, not self-defense. I felt sick again.

  “Mmm, yeah… well I owe you one. And I pay my debts.” She shifted her weight uneasily. Relying on others was obviously not easy for her either. “Are you headed to the party?”

  “Party?” I stared blankly at her. What could we possibly have to celebrate?

  “We usually have a gathering after every recon mission. When a member dies we gather to mourn. When we all return home, we celebrate life.” Archer’s eyes lit on mine for a brief second. “This is the first time we have been able to celebrate in a while.”

  I nodded, understanding her. She had come very close to being mourned tonight. Before I could refuse, she wrapped her thin hand over the crook of my elbow for support. I flinched, which made her smile. She was so much taller and more beautiful than me. While we were about the same age, I must have looked like a child next to her.

  “The choice to go is yours, but if I’m being honest, I could use a hand getting there. The floor still seems to tilt at odd angles if I move my head too fast.”

  I surprised myself by smiling back at her. “Lead the way.”

  The celebration was being held in the dining hall. Tables had been pushed to the walls and the lights dimmed. People were gathered throughout the room. I could see other members from our m
ission scattered among the groups. People were clapping them on the backs, hugging them. Several residents had makeshift instruments and were playing music in the corner. Spirits seemed high. Then, someone saw us. Cheers erupted from the crowd as faces turned in our direction. Archer let go of my arm and I let her walk forward to her people. I turned to leave, but other hands found me. A few brave souls patted me on the shoulders while drawing me into the room. Most people just shared warm smiles and inclined heads as I passed.

  It was a strange feeling. I was not one of them, yet they were welcoming me. Well, most of them were. Arstid stood like a porcelain statue in the back corner of the room. The bald-headed Willets was at her side.

  She knew.

  She knew I had lost control and almost killed one of her best soldiers. As her frosty glare held mine, a small body collided with me, tearing my attention away.

  Mouse wrapped her arms around my waist, hugging me as hard as her tiny arms could. It felt good. I hugged her back, pressing my cheek to her head. I had to be better, if not for myself than for her. When she pulled away I felt a little hollow.

  Mouse reached up pressing her palms to my face. Her round face was elated as she gazed at me. Then, grabbing my hand she pressed it to her cheek as she grinned.

  “I missed you too.” I whispered and Mouse’s brown eyes sparkled.

  She pulled me away from the crowd to the corner of the room where a man stood. His back was turned to us, but I knew how beautiful his face was. How caring his eyes were. I also knew there would be a small cut just below his right ear.

  My chest tightened.

  Before I could pull back, Mouse touched his hand. I expected hate in his eyes when they saw me, but instead there was something else. Relief maybe? He smiled at me before turning back to Mouse.

  “Thank you for finding her.” He cupped her face. “I was beginning to think Archer had decided she wasn’t so grateful after all.”

  Triven smiled warmly at me and some of the tension in my chest released. He didn’t hate me. I could feel a strange heat rising in my cheeks. I wished he would look away and then again I didn’t. Mouse bounced on the balls of her feet as her head swiveled between the two of us.

  Something small, bouncy and blonde broke the awkward moment. A girl no bigger than Mouse pounced between us. Her golden ringlets fell in a striking disarray, her brilliantly blue eyes startling as she glanced up at me.

  “See! I told you she would be fine.” She addressed Mouse in a high but overly loud voice. “Mouse here was worried you wouldn’t come back, but I told her she was just over-reacting. Tough girls like you always come back. I mean look at Archer.”

  Her words rolled out in such a blur that it took my mind a minute to catch up. Mouse reached out, taking the bouncing blonde’s hand as she smiled at me. She had a friend. I smiled at the loud little blonde.

  “I’m Phoenix.” I said, trying to set a good impression for Mouse’s first friend.

  “I know.” She said swinging her arms. “Pretty much everybody knows who you are.”

  I glanced up at Triven, but he just grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

  “My name is Maribel. Everybody says I talk too much, but Mouse doesn’t seem to mind. And since she doesn’t talk at all, I figure I speak enough for the both of us.”

  Mouse grinned at her nodding. It was obvious she had found a mouthpiece and was elated by her new friend.

  “Veyron said there’s cake. Want to go find out what kind?” Maribel’s eyes lit with mischief. Mouse nodded and the two disappeared into the crowd, leaving Triven and I alone.

  I smiled shyly at him, but then my eyes flickered to the cut on his neck and I felt myself pale. My fault. A boisterous laugh interrupted my guilty musings and Arden appeared with two bottles in his hands.

  “You two look like you could use these.” He thrust a bottle into each of our hands. “Cook brewed up a new batch this week, fair warning this stuff is potent.”

  He laughed again as I took a whiff and wrinkled my nose. Someone called Arden’s name and we were alone again. I stared at the amber liquid.

  “I was worried about you.” Triven swirled the bottle in his hand.

  I took a big swig and nearly choked, my eyes, throat and nose were all on fire. A shudder roared through my body in response. Triven laughed, as my eyes watered.

  “He wasn’t kidding.” I sputtered. It took me a moment to catch my breath.

  “Go easy on that stuff. Cook’s home brews can knock you flat if you drink too fast.” Triven sipped at his as if it were merely water.

  “I’m sorry about earlier.” I murmured.

  “Don’t.” His eyes were tight as they turned on me. “Don’t apologize anymore. You saved Archer’s life. You saved mine. These people would be mourning tonight if it hadn’t been for you.”

  The back of his hand brushed my cheek. Surprising us both, I didn’t flinch away. A warm flush crept to my cheeks. I fervently hoped most people would think it was just from the alcohol. The music picked up and people began to dance. I shifted, moving closer to Triven, feeling the icy wall between us melt.

  As Cook’s liquor was passed around, more people had begun to dance and the flush in my cheeks deepened. Mouse and Maribel had found the cake and the two were now sharing a piece as they played some kind of hand game.

  “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?” Triven’s head swiveled towards me as we sat on a table against the wall.

  “Care about someone. Deal with the constant worry that every day something could take them from you.” I watched Mouse as she laughed when Maribel missed her hand.

  “One day at a time. Mostly you learn to cherish those moments that are good. Like these. Nothing in the world is permanent, so you have to make those good moments count.”

  I could feel his eyes on me.

  “And when everything falls apart?”

  “Then you lean on those who will help you pick up the pieces.”

  I nodded as Maribel whispered something to Mouse. Both pairs of mischievous eyes turned our way. Mouse managed to drag Triven to the makeshift dance floor as I watched from my seat, still sipping the amber concoction slowly. Triven twirled her as she laughed. For the first time since I met her, she looked like a carefree child. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to keep her that way. To let her be happy. As they danced, something snow white caught my eye. Arstid was standing near the door. She and Willets had their heads bent low, discussing something in hushed tones. Something was going on. As Arstid slipped though the doors, several other men I recognized as guards followed her. I craned my neck watching them. I thought about following but something blocked my view.

  Mouse appeared in front of me grinning. She had left Triven to dance with the bouncing Maribel. I tried to shoo her hands as they pulled at me, but eventually I could no longer resist her silent pleading. I wasn’t sure if it was Cook’s brew or the happy atmosphere, but I allowed her to lead me to the dance floor. I spun Mouse barely three times before she pulled away, reaching again for Maribel’s hand, and the two twirled away leaving Triven and I standing alone in a crowd of people.

  Just as I stepped back to retreat, Triven’s hand pressed against the small of my back. My hands fell against his chest as he pulled me close. Our cheeks pressed together as his mouth found my ear. His skin felt pleasantly hot against my own.

  “I think we were just set up by two diabolical little girls.”

  I giggled.

  I giggled. It felt strange even as it came out.

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Well let’s not disappoint them.”

  Before I could speak, Triven’s hand gathered mine and we began to dance. Correction— he began to dance, I was just along for the ride. He moved as if I weighed nothing, my feet barely seeming to touch the ground as we turned and glided along. Before I knew it, I was laughing. Triven’s returning husky laugh was warm against my ear. The song ended and the crowd began to cheer for the band. W
hile we had stopped moving, my head was still spinning. I pressed my face to his broad shoulder to steady it. He smelled like soap and spices.

  “Do you want to leave?” He whispered in my ear. He was winded, his words coming out airy. The deep sultry tone of his voice stirred something inside of me— I was sure it was Cook’s brew that had lowered my usually steeled walls. I looked up into those perfect eyes and nodded. His returning smile could have melted stone.

  The hallways seemed to pass in a blur as I followed him. I stared, mesmerized by my hand in his. Less than a month ago, I wouldn’t have let anyone touch me, much less as a sign of affection. But it felt good, he felt good. We made it back to our room without passing anyone. It seemed everyone was at the celebration tonight. Triven held the door open for me and I could barely meet his eyes as I brushed past his chest. When the door clanked shut, I froze.

  What was I doing? This was a bad idea. Getting attached to another person could only cause me more pain. I knew all of that but I still wanted this. Every cell in my body wanted this. It had taken Cook’s brew to allow me to be honest with myself, and now I finally realized what I had been so vehemently denying. I wanted him.

  Triven’s warm fingers traveled over my bare shoulders, causing me to shiver. I turned to face him. His hazel eyes were like warm honey and his lips were flushed. My heart began to race as his hands continued to brush over my arms.

  “This isn’t a good idea.” I said staring at his lips.

  His hands moved to my jaw, sliding across the slender bones to the nape of my neck.

  “Triven…” I whispered. I was trying to warn him. I wasn’t a good choice. I was broken, damaged goods. He deserved better than what I could offer him. He deserved more than what I was. I was too hollow, too ruined.

  He lowered his face to mine and I sucked in a scared breath. He stopped, his lips inches from mine. His eyes scanned my face, but he didn’t move. We stayed like this for what felt like an eternity. His breath was warm and sweet on my face. I knew what he was doing. Even in his state of lowered inhibitions, he wasn’t going to move. He was waiting for me to make the last move, telling me it was my choice.

 

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