Winter's Storm: Retribution (Winter's Saga #2)

by Karen Luellen

  So all he had to do was this one little assignment and then the rest of his life could begin. Maybe the doctor was right. Sometimes the ends do justify the means.

  Williams returned with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. “Well, son? What is your decision?”

  “I’m in. What are the logistics of the assignment, sir?” Creed’s mouth formed the words and his mind tried to grasp the meaning of what he had just chosen. His heart tightened in his chest. He was trying to convince himself that this was justifiable homicide.

  “Excellent choice, Creed.” The doctor was beaming with satisfaction. “But there is plenty of time to discuss logistics. You still need to rest. Recover completely before you take on this assignment. I’ve waited twelve years for payback, I can wait another week or so.”

  The doctor walked to his desk and lifted the black phone to his ear. “Please send Miss Schone up to retrieve our guest.”

  Creed’s body ached miserably. His supply of adrenaline that had run like a faucet moments before felt completely cut off now and it left him emotionally and physically drained. Now all he wanted to do was curl up under the covers of his hospital bed and forget everything he just agreed to do.

  Farrow arrived with a quick knock at the door. To her credit, she had with her a wheelchair. Without a word she wheeled it to Creed and positioned it right beside the exhausted and pain-filled young man. She held it stable while he tried to ease himself up from the couch and then down into it. Creed felt a wave of gratitude for her thoughtfulness and discretion.

  He wanted so badly to turn off his pain, but he didn’t dare do that in front of Dr. Williams. He needed to be believably hurt, and he didn’t know if he was that good an actor. So, he forced himself to suffer.

  “We’ll be in touch, my boy. You just focus on recovery for now. Goodbye.” The doctor shook Creed’s hand and stared into his eyes.

  “Thank you, sir,” the young meta mumbled and withdrew his hand instinctively, a bit sooner than was socially acceptable.

  The doctor didn’t seem to notice.

  “Goodbye.”

  And with that, Farrow wheeled him out into the hallway, down the elevators and up to the black car waiting to return him to the hospital.

  Dr. Williams leaned against the edge of his custom made, hand-carved, mahogany desk and took a sip of his coffee as he watched Farrow wheel Creed Young out of his office. Once the doors shut behind them, he slowly set the mug down on a green marbled coaster, and reached unthinking into his front suit pocket. His fingers found the familiar metallic spheres.

  The thought of what it would be like to have Margo Winter killed made him smile with anticipation. He nearly began salivating at the idea of having the three children back so he could continue his research using their blood. To recreate their unique abilities, those that were above and beyond even the most trained meta at the Facility, that was enough for him to walk away from the desk with a slight skip in his step.

  3 Justified

  The wind cut against his face, bitterly cold and constant. With each breath he felt the cold invade his lungs, splash against the heat his core created and come out as a cloud of hot vapors. His legs hit that rhythm easily. His feet were pounding the gravel as consistently as a metronome.

  It had been one week since his Retribution Match and though he had been able to return to simple everyday physical tasks, his doctor refused to allow him to push himself to exercise until today. He had been cleared to “take a slow walk” around the pond, but his body was literally aching to get stretched and used.

  Despite doctor’s orders, today he was determined to get out on the path and run at least one mile. That should be completely doable. Before the stabbing, running twelve miles in under an hour was no big deal at all. So, though he was still sporting a few dozen stitches internal and external, one mile should be fine. Besides, he was about to go crazy cooped up in that hospital room; today, he was getting some fresh air.

  With temperatures hovering in the teens, most of the trail’s usual occupants had opted for warmer, indoor exercise instead. He ignored the handful of cadets he did see and chose instead to pull his hoodie up, obscuring their view of him. Never one to feel comfortable in the spotlight, the last thing Creed wanted was attention.

  Lost in his own thoughts, Creed didn’t notice right away that there was someone running close behind him. Once he did realize it, he studied the sound of the gravel crunching under the other runner’s feet and decided it must be a female meta. Ordinarily, he would have picked up his pace to pull further away from her, but he knew he was already over doing it physically, so he opted to slow down to let her pass him.

  She didn’t.

  She matched his stride and ran right beside him; their feet making unison crunching sounds into the path. Frustrated with the intrusion, Creed stopped running all together. He leaned over, and forced himself to breathe slow, deep breaths—not from over exertion, but because he had just felt the skin on his side pop open. Instinctively, he covered it with his hand.

  Shit.

  The other runner stopped and watched him for a moment. “You okay?” He heard her say.

  “Fine. Great. I just don’t need an audience.” Creed was talking through his clenched teeth a little afraid to look at the damage he was pretty sure he’d done to himself.

  Ignoring that last statement, the girl kept talking, “I think you over did it.”

  Creed spun around to silence the annoying meta when he realized who she was. “Oh, it’s you.”

  Farrow smiled beautifully and said, “Nice to see you too, Creed Young.”

  “Are you following me?” Creed asked, more to change the subject than anything.

  “I’m following orders,” she said flatly. “Dr. Williams wanted me to see if you were fit for duty and judging by the blood on your shirt, I’m thinking, not.”

  “I just popped a couple stitches. No big deal.” Creed tried to say casually. Inside he was fuming with embarrassment.

  “I think it’s a big deal, especially since we’re going to be partners. I don’t want to have to carry your weight.” She parked her hands on her hips and glowered at his nonchalance.

  “Wait, what? Hold on. Did you say ‘partners’?”

  “Dr. Williams wants us to travel to the Americas, locate Dr. Winter, terminate her and retrieve the assets—you know, the assignment you agreed to?”

  “So soon?”

  “He’s not known to be a patient man.”

  “Right. Okay, let me just get this taken care of back at the hospital. When does he want us to leave?” Creed asked worried this was happening too fast and that he hadn’t had time to process everything.

  “I’ll contact you tomorrow morning with specifics, but just in case, be ready to leave before lunch.” She looked again at the large blood red stain on the hoodie Creed was holding protectively and shook her head.

  “You’d better not screw this up, Creed Young. I have a perfect record with Dr. Williams, and I’m not going to allow you to ruin my career with your macho-bullshit.” She turned and ran back down the trail toward headquarters.

  “Oh, no. Of course not, your highness. I wouldn’t dare do anything to soil your pristine reputation as an ass-kisser!” Creed mumbled the thoughts to himself.

  “Oh, hey, and don’t worry about me. You go on back to Daddy Williams. I have several other pints of blood I could lose before I pass out right here in the dirt,” he continued.

  Truth be told, he wasn’t mad at Farrow. He was disgusted with himself for being Dr. Williams’ henchmen. No matter how he tried, he hated knowing he had sold his soul to that devil, but he couldn’t back out of it now. Morality had a new name and it was Justifiable.

  With nowhere else to go, Creed limped slowly back toward the yellow lights of the medical building.

  So much for doing the right thing, he sighed to himself.

  Damn it.

  Part 2

  Winters in Kansas />
  Two weeks after the rescue of Dr. Margo Winter

  Location:

  Dr. Theo Andrew’s hospital in Olathe, Kansas

  4 The Sentries

  Maze may be an exceptionally perceptive and highly intelligent coyote, but he still had to be walked once in a while. And even though it was 2:57 in the morning, he dutifully woke me with a slobbery lick to show me that his eyes were floating. The boy had to pee—and he meant now.

  I yawned while putting on my warm boots and coat over pajamas. Maze whined impatiently at me so I didn’t even bother with my wildly curly hair. Grabbing his leash we shuffled through the hospital room door and softly closed it behind us.

  He sneezed twice before sniffing and licking his nose clean. Maze wasn’t very fond of the hospital smells, but he put up with them without complaint. It was the collar and leash I was required to use that Maze barely tolerated.

  “I know you hate this dumb ol’ leash, but rules are rules. Dr. Andrews was nice enough to allow you in the hospital under the pretext that you’re a guide dog, so we have to act the part.” I cooed at my best friend while scratching between his ears and neck where the collar was rubbing him the wrong way, literally.

  Maze looked up at me with a sour expression on his sweet coyote face. “Don’t give me that look,” I gently scolded, “you’re the one who insists on staying with mom at the hospital. You could be sniffing out some yummy squirrels in the backyard at Dr. Andrews’ house, but no-o-o, you have to play sentry and guard mom like an overprotective mother hen.”

  To be honest, we have all been very protective of our mom since rescuing her from Dr. Williams. We haven’t left her alone. Matter of fact, we’ve worked out a schedule so there are always two of us with her day and night. Tonight, Evan and I are on “Mom Watch” as we’ve come to call it, while Alik keeps an eye on things back at Dr. Andrews’ house. But Maze won’t leave any longer than it takes for him to go relieve himself outside. He may be a big ball of shedding fur, but he’s a devoted big ball of shedding fur. I found myself smiling warmly at the sweet lug as I walked us into the elevator.

  After growing up on a huge ranch in Texas with the handsome, wide blue skies and stretches of land for as far as the eye could see, being in a small hospital room for hours on end was enough to make me feel very claustrophobic. Once outside, I breathed deeply and allowed myself to listen to the night sounds: The building’s sliding glass doors whooshed closed behind me, Maze’s sniffing nose and padding feet in the Midwest grass, the cold breeze rustling through autumn leaves. It was a beautiful night.

  Maze whined and tugged at the leash. “Okay, buddy. I’ll take the leash off so you can stretch your legs, but don’t be gone long. Some of us want to get back to sleep, you know.” He winked his intelligent yellow eyes at me and licked my hand as I unleashed him. Off he sprinted toward the nearest row of bushes. “Wily nut-ball,” I mumbled as I watched him start to chase some poor unsuspecting rodent.

  “It’s a little late for a stroll, isn’t it?” a man’s voice asked from the shadows. At the sound, I whipped around, tense and ready for battle.

  “Whoa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said with a hint of a smile as he stepped into the light.

  I didn’t respond, choosing instead to stay wary. He stood about ten feet away from me, probably sensing that if he came any closer I would feel even more threatened. He looked to be a little older than me, tall, dark hair, blue eyes and very muscular. He pulled his hands out from his coat pockets and held them, palms out, to his sides in a gesture to show that he meant no harm.

  “I was just out here getting some fresh air after spending the entire day in there,” he gestured to the hospital. “So again, I’m sorry to have startled you. But it’s not every day a guy sees a girl talking to what looks like her pet coyote in the moonlight.”

  I glanced over to where I last saw Maze. He was nowhere in sight now, but I wasn’t too worried. One whistle and he’d be at my side ready to fight.

  I couldn’t decide if this guy was harmless or not. Because the events over the last few weeks were underscored by some scary stuff like being followed, shot at, attacked, tricked, hunted and maimed, I guess my knee jerk reactions were starting to lean toward paranoid.

  “Right. Well, we were just stretching our legs, too,” I said in a voice intended to give off a tone of leave me alone, buddy. I turned slightly and started walking away, keeping the guy in my peripheral vision.

  “Well, is he?” the guy called taking a few steps to follow me.

  “Is he what?” I asked not even trying to hide the annoyance in my voice.

  “A coyote,” he asked innocently.

  “Yes,” I said not offering any more information.

  “Wow, you know how unusual it is to see a tame coyote? They’re part of the canine family, but they’re not known to become domesticated at all,” he said all this while walking a few steps closer to me. “You’re not from around here are you?”

  I ignored his questions and decided enough is enough. This guy wasn’t getting the hint and no matter how blue his eyes flashed in the moonlight, or how handsome his smile looked—I needed backup. My fingers flew up to my mouth and let out a sharp whistle.

  Now it was his turn to look startled. Maze flashed over the bushes some fifteen yards away and bolted straight toward him. A low whistle from me had him change course and speed. He trotted right up to my side, licked my hand and glowered at the stranger.

  “This is Maze. He doesn’t much like strangers and neither do I,” I said sternly, “Goodnight.” I turned and walked back toward to the hospital’s sliding glass doors with Maze right at my side and the stranger’s eyes boring a hole in the back of my head.

  “Creed!” He yelled over to me.

  Maze turned and growled. I stopped one last time, surprised my iciness didn’t scare him into the silence it should have.

  “Did you just say, ‘Creed?’” I called back.

  “Yeah, it’s my name. Creed Young. Now I’m not so much a stranger.” He smiled widely, waved and walked away.

  “That was a little weird, wasn’t it?” I asked Maze as we rode the elevator back up to the seventh floor of the hospital. Maze looked up at me and cocked his head to the left like he was trying to understand what my problem was. “I know we could have taken him in a heartbeat so unless he had a gun in his back pocket, there was really no threat, but still. Something about that guy was scary—in a cool sort of way.” Maze was ignoring me now as he sniffed a meal tray one of the patients had left on the floor just outside their hospital room door.

  “Come on, you. No digging through other people’s leftovers. It’s bad manners,” I said sleepily.

  A few doors down, and we were back in mom’s room. I locked the door behind me and checked on mom. She was breathing softly and her monitors showed her heart rate, oxygen levels and blood pressure all normal. Evan hadn’t moved since I saw him last. I found my pile of blankets on my cot and flopped down. Maze curled up at my feet. The night was still, again.

  Back down in the lobby, Creed watched the numbers light up above the elevator she had taken. It stopped on the seventh floor. He smiled to himself remembering their conversation and how guarded she was. He began whistling as he shuffled casually out of the building and back to his rental car waiting in the lamp-lit hospital parking lot. Something about that wild-haired beauty made Creed’s heart leap in his chest. Tomorrow he would have to find a way to bump into her again. Maybe this assignment wouldn’t be that bad after all.

  Of course, there was the small issue of killing the woman. Creed shoved his hands into his pockets frowning now against the thought. He sat in his car and leaned his head back staring up through the sun roof. The stars were faint here compared to back at the Facility. Things seemed much less clear cut.

  Sitting in Williams’ office, it didn’t seem too hard to agree to terms of this arrangement: one thief killed and three metas returned in exchange for information about his l
ong lost parents. The ends justify the means, right? Williams gets back the metas that were rightfully his. Creed gets to be reunited with his kin. Thief gets her comeuppance.

  He found the more he watched the Winter family and how they interacted, the more he liked them. They were good people. They were a family. And, now that he looked into the girl’s dark eyes and watched them flash with anger. Now that he heard her voice, angelic and soft even through her attempt at sounding irritated. Now that he could imagine her smile, her laugh. Now everything felt as hazy as this night sky looked.

  In his pocket, his cell phone began to vibrate. One glance at the caller I.D. confirmed it; it was Dr. Williams. Creed touched the screen accepting the call.

  “Sir.”

  “Status report.”

  “Surveillance still successful. First contact with M57 has been made.”

  “Excellent. Your condition?

  “Ninety percent recovered.”

  “It’s been long enough. It’s time to complete your assignment.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  click

  Creed sighed deeply, slipped his phone back into his pocket and started the car. He needed a little shut-eye before trying to figure out what to do next. Hopefully, Farrow would leave him alone when he got back to the hotel. He made sure she did not have a key to his room, but she was resourceful. If she wanted to, she could be sitting on the edge of his bed ready to pounce him for information when he got back.

  He pushed Farrow out of his mind and focused instead on the girl—Meg. Creed had to think of a way to get the girl to trust him, and fast. She was the key to the brothers.

  He yawned deeply.

  How was he going to forge more of a friendship with the girl? Maybe he should keep a steak on him next time to see if that’ll win over the coyote. Or, would that seem overly anxious? It’s not like Creed had ever tried to woo a girl before. Sleep, he thought. He needed sleep and then things will seem clearer in the morning.