The Sons of Satrina: A Sons of Satrina Novel

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The Sons of Satrina: A Sons of Satrina Novel Page 27

by Kristan Belle


  Knowing that he was up against a warrior of worth, a warrior with decades of training over him, he knew that he would have to play this next bit dirty. This was no time for honour, no matter how much it pained him to go against his instincts. His drive to save Aisline was stronger than anything.

  Going limp for a moment in Kelton’s arms, he let the warrior assume that he was giving in, giving up. Then, as soon as he felt Kelton’s arms start to relax around him, he kicked his head back with so much force that the muscles in his neck protested, smashing the back of his head into Kelton’s face, feeling the force of the impact shatter the warriors nose followed by a river of blood gushing down the back of his neck.

  And it worked. Kelton didn’t expect that move in a million years and immediately released Jackson to raise his hands to his face. Jackson took full advantage of the movement and leaped to his feet, racing back towards the window and jumping through before any of the other warriors on his team could stop him. Shards of jagged glass that were still stuck in the frame ripped at the flesh on his arms, but the pain was nothing to him.

  He could see Aisline.

  She was sat, now unconscious, gagged and bound to a chair with copious amounts of rope, blood staining her ripped black clothing. He could see the slight rise and fall of her chest, the only sign of life. But, he’d take any sign, no matter how small.

  She’d been beaten to within an inch of her life. Every visible inch of her was covered in blood and bruises. The bastards. The bastards would pay. He would see to that personally. After he’d gotten her to safety, he was going to kill every goddamn one of them.

  Coughing again as the smoke wound its way through the room and into his airwaves, he spluttered his way over to her. Grabbing blindly for his dagger, visibility was virtually non-existent and he had to go by touch to make sure that he was cutting at the ropes and not her delicate flesh. He didn’t want to be the one to slice her tender flesh. She’d already suffered enough and he wasn’t willing to inflict any more on her, even if being careful slowed down the process.

  Finally, after what seemed like an age, the ropes fell to the floor, slinking like cobras. There had to have been at least ten metres of the stuff binding her to the chair and where her flesh wasn’t covered with clothing, blood and bruises, there was vibrant evidence of her struggle. Thick rope burns painfully ringed her ankles, wrists and neck.

  But, they weren’t the immediate problem. They wouldn’t take long to heal with her supernatural nature. It was the fire that was the threat to them now. The flames were snaking around the room, heading briskly towards the open window, the night air fanning the flames, threatening to cut off their escape.

  Jackson quickly gathered up her lifeless body carefully in his arms, cradling her face to his chest and ran back in the direction of the window. The smoke was filling his eyes, his mouth, his nose, but it was an inconsistent barrier that wouldn’t stop him from completing this crucial mission.

  Running with his head down, he ran straight into the wall and pain exploded in his skull. Well, he kind of misjudged that, didn’t he? If the situation hadn’t of been so dire, and he didn’t have a dying girl in his arms, that move would have sent him into laughing hysterics.

  But, he wasn’t far off. The window was located to the right of him and the once open space was now filled with the faces of the other warriors on his team, beckoning him over, arms outstretched to take Aisline from him and to get them out of there.

  Jackson didn’t want to hand her over, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get them both out safely any other way. He had to put her safety before his own desire to keep her with him.

  Ignoring the blood that was starting to dry on Kelton’s face, the sign of his disloyalty to the warrior, he passed over Aisline’s comatose body to him just as black spots began to dance in his vision. He blindly reached for the other hands to help pull him out of there.

  The black spots began to spread and expand and before he’d hit the floor, everything had turned to nothing. Only the roar of the fire rang in his ears.

  Laying limply on the floor, unable to move, he heard Kelton shout to the others to grab him and that was it. Blissful nothing surrounded his entire being as he was lifted. He’d done it. He’d got her out of there. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it, but he didn’t care. He’d done his job as a warrior.

  He was done.

  Chapter Thirty-Two.

  Kayleigh paced restlessly around Kelton’s office as best she could, with limited space that was filled with the few random warriors still swarming about. They couldn’t leave this whole place unguarded and the ones that remained behind were waiting on tenterhooks, wishing that they were out there, doing what they did best, but understanding that there are people to be defended here.

  What the hell was happening out there? What was going on? Something had jammed their radio and she was left waiting here with no communications, blind. It was killing her not knowing. Aisline was currently in the depths of Hell and the ones who were stuck back here at the academy had no way of knowing if she’d make it out. If any of them would make it out.

  A sudden rush of activity sent Kayleigh hurrying for the door and out along the corridor. She was prepared to see a bunch of trainee’s bustling around the corridors, which was the last thing she needed to deal with right now. They should have more respect and concern at a time like this.

  Stopping in her tracks, she raised a hand to her mouth. Praise his Holy light, she thought to herself. She’d been brought up in a religious family when she was growing up and despite now being one of the demons of the night as her father would have been sure to call her, she had brought some of that religious belief into this life. The Matris themselves held their own religion. They had a belief in a Goddess, worshipping their first being, Satrina, and they had their own version of a Bible, ‘Per Sanguinem.” Which translated to ‘By the Blood.’ . Kayleigh had found it fascinating reading, the twists and turns of everything she had grown up with, made into something new and equally as credible. It was fascinating and made her question her own faith. Adapting to the change, something in her still clung to religion.

  Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her cheeks in icy trails as she saw the broken and smoke drenched bodies of Aisline and Jackson as they were carried along in the arms of the warriors. There was no sound as they moved silently forward. No wonder the feeling in the air wasn’t one of jubilance. The casualties of the war had been high, but luckily, so far as she could tell with a quick head count, not fatal. They’d been successful to an extent, but even the hardened Warriors couldn’t prevent further damages to their troops. The injuries weren’t as great as they could have been, but nonetheless, they were still severe.

  Not wanting to intrude, Kayleigh solemnly followed the procession of warriors through the endless corridors and into the depths of the academy to the medical wing. Faces lined the doors as they passed. The gravity of the situation weighing heavily on every face that she saw.

  In the medical wing, Dr Marilyn Philippe had called in experts from the council to help assist her treatment of Aisline and the other warriors who had suffered from smoke inhalation and other injuries in the line of duty. She’d managed to get hold of them in time and had them waiting on hand for the arrival of the wounded. They wore grave, professional masks, but even Kayleigh could see the spark of emotion in Dr Marilyn’s eyes when she first saw Aisline’s lifeless body.

  Perhaps it was because she was the first and only female warrior, or perhaps it was just because she was who she was, but Aisline had touched many hearts. They were always concerned when a warrior was hurt or injured, but Ash seemed to be a special case for them all. Plus, not many who were abducted by the Mortuorum lived to tell the tale.

  A lot of the other warriors were soon being treated for their wounds in cubicles, in the hallways, in the offices, wherever they could fit them in. But, their injuries were nothing compared to the team who had been trapped in the burning room. An
d Jackson and Aisline were the worst off of all.

  The fear was that the hot smoke could have had a devastating effect on the delicate tissue of the respiratory system, with heat damage to their mouths and upper throats being at the forefront of the medical minds and they tried their hardest to work their magic to minimise long term affects.

  Due to their vampire physiology, their techniques for treating the damage varied from that what would be done or given to a human, but only slightly. Humidified oxygen and chest physiotherapy were given, but more than anything, they had to wait for their bodies to heal themselves. They could only hope that they weren’t past the point of repair.

  All they could do was to keep them comfortable and wait.

  Kayleigh alternated her time initially between Aisline and Jackson, fending off visitors, wanting to keep them comfortable and quiet. Doctors order.

  There wasn’t much that anyone could do except to wait and see if they healed themselves and they all felt tremendously helpless, especially the medical staff. Kayleigh knew how they all felt. She wanted to do something, be proactive but there was nothing to be done. Time was the best healer, as they say. As much as it sucked.

  After a little time, she couldn’t deny the pleading faces of the trainee’s friends and allowed them in to sit with Aisline and Jackson for a little while. It was late and even though they were all exhausted, no one was ready to sleep. Trey immediately went into Ash’s room while Dylan and Jase sat with Jackson. They were under strict instructions to keep the visit brief, and to not expect any response from them. They were both supposed to be sedated to keep them out of pain and to help aid the healing process.

  Jackson was busy refusing medication. Sure, he still felt like shit, but laying there wasn’t doing anyone any good. He had to get to Aisline and make sure she was okay.

  “You need to rest.” Jase said as Dylan walked out of the room to get the doctor back in there.

  “I need to see her.” Jackson croaked.

  “Trey’s with her. She’ll be fine. You did good, man. You got her back.”

  Jackson fell quiet again. Jase was right. She was back and she was safe, but at what cost? Was she going to be alright or was the doctor just saying that to shut him up and keep him away? Anything could be wrong with her. She was a bloody mess when he had found her and hadn’t regained consciousness by the time they got back here and separated them.

  Turning to look at Jase, he didn’t even make an attempt to blink away the tears that were flooding his eyes. He knew that his friends wouldn’t think badly of him for feeling emotional. It had been a hell of a night and they had only barely made it out of there. “I need to see her.”

  Jase looked around nervously. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to talk Jax out of this. He understood completely where he was coming from. They all knew that they were mad for each other. They’d all seen it, even if the pair of them wouldn’t admit it. Jax wouldn’t be able to rest until he saw that she was breathing and recovering. But, getting him past all the people that were lurking in the medical suite wouldn’t be an easy task. Granted, it would be a lot easier than what Jackson had been through.

  “Shit.” Jase muttered. “Come on.”

  He walked closer to the bed as Jackson swung the covers back. Jackson was wearing a simple pair of light blue cotton pyjama bottoms and that was it. When the doctors and nursing staff had been seeing to him, they’d try to clean him up as they went, but there were still smudges of blood, soot and dirt on his body.

  As Jackson heaved himself up off of the bed, Jase swung an arm around his waist and supported his weight. He was still weak after the exertion of the mission and from the smoke inhalation. There was no way that he would have been able to do this on his own.

  Pausing at the door, Dylan rushed over and grabbed hold of Jackson’s other arm as soon as he saw they were on the move. The corridor was momentarily quiet, but it wouldn’t remain so for long. It was just lucky for them that Aisline’s room was only a couple of doors away.

  Dylan and Jase didn’t say a word. They knew that Jackson wouldn’t have the energy to speak. They moved quietly and cautiously until they reached Ash’s room. Pushing the door open, they all breathed a sigh of relief when they saw only Trey sitting with her.

  “Jax? Man, how are you?” Trey said the moment he saw them stumbling in, moving out of the chair next to the bed so Jackson could sit and rest.

  “She’s back. That’s the main thing.” Jackson’s voice sounded painful and hoarse but he paid no attention to his own injuries and didn’t take his eyes off of Ash.

  “Can I get you anything?” Trey asked, eyeing the thick bandages that were wrapped around Jackson’s hands. None of them had got the full story of what had happened yet, but the injuries that the warriors had sustained was mind-blowing.

  “I’m fine.” Jackson said before reducing into a coughing fit. Dylan passed him a glass of water and it took a moment for him to calm down enough to carry on. “Can you give us a minute?”

  Trey, Dylan and Jase nodded, retreating from the room. They all knew that they both needed this. Ash may not be awake, but Jackson would be a reassuring presence for her.

  As the door shut and gave them privacy, Jackson felt the tears starting to fall on his cheeks. This was the thing that he had worried about and been dreading. That Ash would get hurt out in the field. It had happened. But, she had pulled through it. Sure, it wasn’t without consequence, but she was here. The amount of relief that Jackson felt at having her there in front of him was like nothing he had ever felt before.

  She was battered, bruised and beaten. But, Ash was tough. She was back and breathing and fighting her way through it. Jackson knew that she would make it. Ash wouldn’t let this get the better of her. She’d come back fighting and more determined than ever.

  Thinking back to the night when they had kissed, Jackson now wished that he hadn’t pushed her away. He wished that he could go back and tell her how he felt. Hopefully, his actions tonight would speak louder than words. If not? At least he now had another chance to tell her it all.

  She may be unconscious, but he was starting now.

  Leaning forward carefully and cradling what he suspected was a broken rib or two, Jackson carefully kissed her cheek. He didn’t say the words. He’d wait for her to be awake and ready to hear them before he did. But, taking hold of her hand, he could have sworn that her fingers tightened around his momentarily and Jackson smiled to himself.

  They were beaten and bruised but they’d get through this. Together. You know why? Because they were fighters. They were warriors. They’d do this together and make it work.

  Closing his eyes, Jackson leaned back in the chair. He knew that the doctor and nursing staff would be pissed when they found his bed empty, but he was right where he needed to be.

  He was right where he needed to be.

 

 

 


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