Vindicta (The Liquidator Wars Book 1)

by Kindra Sowder

“Fuck,” he breathed. He adjusted so his obvious arousal couldn’t be seen from the outside of the cell with knees tucked against his chest. He placed his hands on his knees and opened his eyes, watching the shadows from down the hallway move in the light against the wall through the iron bars that held him.

  “Get your shit together, Creed,” he chided himself. There was silence for all of a few moments until footsteps sounded, echoing off of the walls.

  A head of blonde hair rounded the corner followed by a strong warrior, one he had not yet seen, and he recognized the girl instantly. It was Brynn’s younger sister coming to see him, but for what? He could smell lust rolling off of them both and knew they had been all over each other but had no inclination as to why they were there at that moment. A guard was close on their heels and her gaze leveled at him, her striking eyes not nearly as beautiful as her sister’s. Creed couldn’t help but notice their differences.

  “What do I owe the pleas…” Creed began, but the younger Daughter of Electi cut him off.

  “I know what you are, Liquidator, so spare me the pleasantries.” She turned to the guard and said, “Get my sister. I know what we need to do next. I’m certain he will have some answers.”

  This left Creed confused. Who was he? And what answers would he have?

  Finally, for the first time since he had awoken as a prisoner of the Electi, Creed was afraid.

  Chapter Nine:

  Making Angels Quake

  They stood in a half circle in front of Creed, their eyes solemn. Something had changed in the demeanor of the group. He could sense it. Brynn was there now. Although, earlier she had interrogated him with a look of pure loathing and disdain on her face. Now she looked more contemplative as if she were the possessor of new information.

  In actuality, she was.

  “Show me the Mark,” she said, tersely, her long hair glittering as she stood in the dim interior of his cell.

  Creed immediately started to respond, “What mark?”

  With one look into her prismatic crimson eyes, the words died on his lips. Instead, his shoulders sagged slightly in defeat. He knew no protest could dissuade his captors that they had at last discovered the one secret he had been so successful in hiding from them.

  Even the smart-ass twins, Tarren and Bayn, were almost reverently quiet.

  With a deep sigh, he turned so that those gathered there could see something on his side, at a forty-five-degree angle from his armpit almost equidistant from his armpit to his waist.

  At first glance, it looked like some sort of stamp or seal. It was roughly circular but had edges that looked to be crimped.

  Involuntarily, everyone stepped more closely toward him to get a better look.

  Their eyes widened as they realized how intricate the Angel Mark was. It had the appearance of a medallion with intricate inscriptions that fanned out from the center of it in a completely symmetrical design.

  Yet it was flush with his skin. It hadn’t been carved or even tattooed on him, and it was only visible when the light hit it a certain way.

  “Ah,” Brynn breathed, in spite of herself.

  It was the first time she had seen the Angel’s Mark herself, and she had seen plenty of naked and half naked male beings in the context of battle.

  She rearranged her features so as not to look impressed.

  Creed turned back as soon as the gawkers stepped away from him again.

  “Game changer?” he suggested helpfully.

  “Hah,” Brynn scoffed. “Just another bit of intel, thank you. You could have saved yourself a lot of pain by being forthcoming. I don’t feel a bit sorry for you. You are as stubborn as they come.”

  “Possibly,” Creed agreed with her, pushing a lock of his hair back from his face. “Though I think I’ve met my equal today, Daughter of the Electi. Although I’m sure, you would call it ‘tenacity’ instead. So can we be friends now?” he continued, a mocking tone in his voice.

  “I don’t make friends with beings who stink,” Brynn said rudely, wrinkling her petite nose. She turned her head to shout at the dungeon wardens. “Unshackle him except for his manacles.”

  Turning to Bayn and Tarren, she growled, “Keep him in your sights, you two. Ryder, if he even tries to run, shoot him down. Gwenyth--”

  Gwenyth, whose head had been lowered lifted it eagerly, an expectant expression on her face. “Yes, Brynn? I mean, Yes Commander?”

  “Go ask that the room next to mine be prepared, and a hot bath available for our guest. Natalia,” she continued, harshly, “be prepared to secure the room with a warding spell. Only those present here now will be able to access the room and yourself, of course.”

  All of Brynn’s surrounding staff scrambled to accomplish their tasks. Creed’s facial expression alternated between astonishment and suspicion as one by one shackles and chains around his throat, waist, arms, and ankles were removed. When he stood up, the first thing he did was stretch mightily with a groan.

  “Ahhhh,” he said. “That feels good. Thank you, Brynn, Daughter of the Electi. I must say I am surprised. I saw myself rotting here indefinitely. You know, another victim of your “hospitality.””

  “Maybe you should,” Brynn said coldly, but with a shrewd look in her eye, “but I’m curious. Perhaps with your peculiar set of skills, you might serve our cause against those whose blood you bear traces of in your veins.”

  The group began walking through the now open door of Creed’s cell and into the vaulted hallway, their steps echoing. Walking beside Creed, with Bayn and Tarren directly behind them, Ryder Perkins led the group and walked backward every few feet without missing a step to eye the prisoner.

  Creed had his hands shackled in front of him as he walked. His unruly hair tumbled over one eye until he tossed his head back. To Brynn, he seemed not as angry as he had been, but more defiant than ever as they moved him to his new quarters. Even though he was dirty and dressed in rags, he held himself as if he were visiting royalty.

  Brynn stood with them in front of the specially equipped chamber next to her own. It had been a tiring day. The Twins, Bayn and Tarren, looked at her expectantly as if waiting for further orders.

  “Keep a careful eye on him,” she told them. “Let the servants make him presentable. He will dine with us tonight. Do not allow Natalia’s shackles to be removed from him for any reason outside of this room. You got that?”

  Gwenyth floated down the hallway toward her, but before she turned Brynn took time for one last look of appraisal at Creed. He stared right back at her.

  “You will do well not to disappoint me, Creed,” she told him. Her voice was well modulated, but there was a note of menace in her words. “Otherwise, I will have no trouble in separating your head from your body and tossing it to the guard to play soccer with.”

  Creed bowed to her, and although she took his gesture as mocking, when he straightened up, and their eyes met again he seemed serious.

  “I will not disappoint you, Brynn, Daughter of the Electi. This I promise. And I will go a bit further still. I will be the one you turn to. Your champion. I believe we have much to teach each other and much to learn from each other. I want you to ask yourself this--”

  Brynn sniffed disdainfully waiting for Creed to finish. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was baiting her again, although his attitude seemed to have changed.

  “...what happens when a vampire drinks angel blood? Do you know? Granted my blood is not pure, but why do you think your people, the Electi, trafficked with angels as far back in history as your people go? Reflect on that and let me know what you come up with,” he finished.

  ***

  It was after the dinner hour, and a cool evening breeze blew back Gwenyth’s hair as she exited out of a hidden side door of Brynn’s mansion, running to her left where the tall hedges were.

  As was her penchant, Brynn had insisted that some unusual landscaping be done on the property out back. In Los Angeles the land was expensive, and she had insis
ted that not only her home but also the surrounding area be well groomed and unique as well as covert. To this end, she had instructed the master gardener to have a maze built.

  Brynn had a fascination with them.

  She believed as the ancients did that walking a labyrinth could provide spiritual insight and be a deeply personal and meditative experience. Her parents had taken her and Gwenyth to visit the Hampton Court Maze in Great Britain that had existed since the time of William of Orange and it left an indelible impression on both of them.

  Gwenyth was not visiting the maze for the usual reasons, though. She was determined to keep meeting illicitly with Ryder Perkins away from prying eyes.

  She rounded the fourth blind corner, the fresh green smell of the hedges alive in her nostrils and the ghost of a pale moon starting to rise in the sky. Someone grabbed her from behind.

  Ryder quickly spun her around, covering her tender young lips with his own.

  Ryder had been Gwenyth’s secret joy for days now. She was still wearing the necklace he gave her. As he kissed her, his fingers moved from her neck down into her bosom to pull it up and finger it.

  When he’d first given it to her, it had been as a token of his admiration. Now she regarded it as a symbol of his ownership of her heart. There were plenty of young men in the Guard that cast admiring glances at her every day, and even her overprotective older sister Brynn encouraged her to socialize with them

  Gwenyth wasn’t interested in boys. One of the most intoxicating qualities Ryder had was that he was not a boy, but a man. The thought that such a gorgeous, healthy, kind and experienced male chose her above all others made her love him all the more desperately.

  Their meetings had but one purpose in Gwenyth’s mind. Ryder was teaching her the Art of Love. How to give and receive pleasure. She was more than willing to learn.

  ***

  Brynn knew full well what she had to do, and whom she had to go to to find the meaning of Creed’s cryptic request. He had made it sound like she would need him in the future but, for the life of her, she couldn’t fathom why she would need a Liquidator half-breed for anything besides giving him a good beating when it served her. But his words had intrigued her, and she could only think of one person that had the answer. Natalia was an excellent Oracle, smart and cunning, but this wasn’t something she wanted to burden her with. Not when she could handle it without her.

  Leo was an angel of the highest order, the one said to thwart demons. In reality, he was an asshole with a bad temper that killed Liquidators alongside the vampires and all other creatures made by the Creator. He would have the answers she sought, but she knew she would need to bring back up with her.

  She felt Bayn and Tarren were perfect for the task. The large men were intimidating, and she had plenty of guards inside the mansion to watch over their prisoner. She was confident she’d need the muscle. Leo’s club, Abaddon, was as rough and tumble as they came. Violence and darkness permeated every inch of its interior and even leaked in tendrils out the door to follow individual patrons home.

  The name was a perfect match, representing the dark pit of despair and desperation and drunkenness that most found themselves in when they entered the glass doors. Brynn, Terran, and Bayn stood outside the doors watching the flurry of activity. Abaddon was nestled in a little niche in Downtown Los Angeles, which was perfect for hiding some of the seedy activity that took place there from time to time.

  “You sure this is a good idea, Brynn? What if that jerk was just fucking with you?” Terran said as he shifted uncomfortably, his leather jacket rolling with his muscles underneath.

  Brynn glanced back at him, placed her hands on her hips, and turned back to squint up at the red neon sign of the club.

  “Then I beat the shit out of him, Terran. As simple as that.”

  They entered, Bayn holding open the door for the other two and not saying much. When the waitress attempted to seat them, they stood instead and surveyed the room carefully.

  They spotted him in a special booth built into the back of the club. The red leather seats were arranged in a half-circle and the portion against the wall had a gilded, ornately carved back that rose above the center, seating full of skulls and bats and other night creatures that looked like a throne.

  Leo didn’t exactly look happy to see them. Resigned, he motioned for them to join him.

  “You brought your handsome goons, I see,” Leo crooned.

  Brynn wondered briefly which team he was playing on tonight. His eyes were thickly lined with kohl and mascaraed. He was also known for his mercurial and fluid sexuality.

  “Hello, boys,” he said, as Brynn slid into the half circle on one side of the owner “Have a seat. Drinks on me of course, and may I say that it is a pleasure to see any Daughter of the Electi in my establishment. Not up to your usual standard, I am sure. It must be something very intriguing that brings you here.”

  Brynn allowed the nefarious Leo to kiss her hand briefly, glad that she had thin leather gloves over the backs of them. Still, she could feel the warmth of his tongue as he took her hand for a moment and licked the back of it.

  Tarren glowered, his hand underneath the table on the handle of his dagger. He glanced over at Bayn, who looked equally tense.

  Leo looked from one to the other and laughed at them.

  “Relax boys,” he suggested, “and order quickly. I can tell you both need a blowjob by someone who knows how. You know what? I think I will order for you, actually.” He rested his hand on his chin briefly. “I have a new drink I just concocted, and I want your honest opinion.”

  Leo looked up and a slight female skitted forward. He didn’t speak, just held up four fingers. She quickly curtsied and came back within seconds with four phosphorescent blue drinks. Leo raised his glass flute and looked to the others.

  “I give you my new libation,” he said, looking directly at Brynn. ”Offered to the only deity that I am well acquainted with and pledged to serve.”

  All of them immediately took a drink. Tarren tossed his back without tasting it and began coughing, then clearing his throat.

  “Yes, it’s very potent,” Leo told him, smirking with delight. “I call it the ‘Sapphire Eye.'”

  Brynn tasted the drink. It tasted like rare blue raspberries, with undertones of oak. It seemed to have a kick at the end of each sip. Yet, Brynn knew there was more to it than that.

  “What’s the secret ingredient Leo?” she asked. “I detect something else. And given the reputation of this place…”

  Leo threw up his hands, chuckling.

  “Okay, you’ve got me,” he confessed. “Just the tiniest bit of Fairy Blood thrown in. For the kick, of course.”

  Brynn nodded.

  Bayn said, “Great. We just cannibalized Calyx. Wonderful.”

  “Oh, dear boy don’t carry on so. Everyone knows the blood of any phylum adds loads of flavor and intrigue.” Leo winked as he took another sip of the drink.

  “You didn’t tell us,” Tarren fumed quietly. His face was still red from choking.

  “You didn’t ask, now, did you muscle man?” Leo replied, turning to Brynn.

  “I know you seek me out for a reason, my liege. I am at your service, naturally.”

  “I want to know what you know of angels, and angel half-breeds,” Brynn said, looking at him directly. “I know Natalia probably knows as much as you do, but I also know that she doesn’t sleep with them.”

  Leo took a sip of his drink, savoring it.

  “Well, I do know quite a bit,” he told her, “and things that you would never find written down anywhere. For an example, I am sure you have no idea what expert trackers angels are. Better than bloodhounds. For that reason alone they are often kept in enchanted chains, traveling with rogue armies.”

  Brynn was surprised.

  “How does it work?” she asked. “I am sure you are not talking about making them follow tracks on a leash like dogs.”

  “Of course not,” Leo said dis
dainfully. “Any vampire may experience and acquire the same highly evolved tracking abilities by drinking either their blood or their sperm.”

  Bayn choked on his drink at the revelation and covered his mouth as he cleared his throat.

  “What else can you tell me?” Brynn asked eagerly. Everything Leo had revealed so far was a revelation.

  “Oh God, Brynn, why don’t you sit back and relax? And, I do ask, do not let that drink go to waste. We all know Fairy blood is hard to come by,” Leo chided as he leaned back in his seat and his eyes moved over Brynn’s body as she sat in front of him. “That kick isn’t the only thing it does.” A sly grin moved over his lips and settled there, but Brynn wanted so badly to slap it off of his face.

  “Ha, you wish, angel. A member of the Electi has never slept with an angel, and I don’t see that ever changing,” Brynn bit back. “At least,” she paused long enough to tip her head back and take the rest of the libation down her throat, “not while I’m alive. Plus, you know as well as I do that the Creator deemed it blasphemous.”

  “Oh, but that doesn’t stop anyone, now does it?” Leo’s sly grin only broadened, and he leaned forward, his bright eyes not once leaving the apex of Brynn’s crossed legs.

  Bayn and Terran were becoming antsy, warmth moved over them in delicious waves as they sat and watched the exchange between Brynn and the angel. Leo was stalling, but for what reason? What did he know that he wasn’t willing to share?

  Bayn slammed his hand on the table between them and nearly shouted over the thumping music beating around them.

  “That is enough, angel. We are not here to play games.”

  “Oh see, warrior, that is where you are wrong. You came to my house for information, so you will play whatever game I see fit. You hear me, vampire?”

  The word vampire rolled off of his tongue seductively, but Brynn didn’t move. Barely even breathed as she watched a golden light shift over Leo’s eyes as he stared Bayn down, the warrior in himself coming to the surface.

  “I will tell you what you came here to find out, and even tell you more than you want to hear or are capable of understanding,” he said slowly and deliberately. “Some of it is beyond the ken of even smart vampires but first, a dance I think. Brynn, Daughter of the Electi, will you do me the honor?”