by Aliya DalRae
Jonathan dropped his arm and took a step back, rubbing his chin as he regarded Takeshi. “We’ll get to that. As I told Master Masaru, the signal has been faint for a few months, but every time we think we’re homing in on it, it disappears. Still, it’s always in the same area, so I don’t think it’s going anywhere. You can take a minute to get settled in.”
That sounded like an order. Takeshi narrowed his eyes at the male but nodded out of respect for his position. He followed Jonathan into a large dining room where he and the master were served a nice meal. However, whenever Takeshi tried to steer the conversation to Katsuro, Jonathan deflected.
As they finished up, the male leaned forward and studied Takeshi, his eyes a narrow slit as he searched, for what, Takeshi hadn’t a clue. After an interminable scrutiny, he said, “So, do you want to see the ranks?”
Finally, something useful.
Jonathan led him through the house and out a patio door that opened onto a large deck. From there, a brick walkway led them through an immaculate garden surrounded by massive trees and landscaped with autumn blooms that scented the late-night air. At the rear of the lawn, the path opened into a wide dirt lane. Large brick buildings lined the lane, three to each side. Takeshi’s jaw dropped. Were these the…
“Barracks,” Jonathan said proudly. “Capable of housing a hundred to each building, with new Chosen coming in every week. Of course, we’re nowhere near capacity, but the Shade has been busy, my friend.”
As he spoke, the barracks emptied, and upwards of three hundred Dark Warriors marched out in perfect order, falling into rank and file with the youngest members in the back. Never, in all his years with Master Masaru’s original cadre, had they acquired this many Warriors.
Without asking permission, Takeshi wandered through the ranks, sending tendrils of Shade out to the rows upon rows of males and females. And each one of them the Shade recognized as kin, each one a power unto him or herself. Takeshi walked backward through the last few rows, marveling at the young who were gathered there.
Jonathan gave a command, and three hundred voices sounded in one mighty kiai. And as the cry of, “Hai,” hit the air, three hundred pairs of eyes turned black and all the lights in the sky were extinguished.
Takeshi smiled. With this force behind him, Katsuro was as good as dead.
Chapter Four
T he daylight hours were interminable but had finally drawn to an end. Merlin closed the door to his suite for the last time, reached his mind out to lock it and stopped. Why bother? It’s not like he would be coming back. Leave his things for the next promoted Warrior, maybe even Martin. Wouldn’t that would be poetic?
He reached into the pocket of his leathers and froze. Empty. He patted his other pockets, then threw his meager baggage to the floor to do a thorough search. It wasn’t there. He’d hoped to be in the garage as the sun set, straddling the Ducati with the engine running, ready to escape before anyone became the wiser. He weighed the pros and cons of making a quick stop in his office, the cons far outweighing the pros, but thought, fuck it. It was stupid, but he couldn’t leave without it.
He grabbed his backpack and the saddlebags and took off at a fast clip. He made it to the elevator without seeing so much as a cleaning person, down to the lobby, and then to the Sub T elevator.
You’re going the wrong way. The voice in the back of his head screamed at him to turn around, but he was leaving everything he loved for fuck’s sake. Just one memento. Only one.
He dodged into his office and shut the door, not bothering with a light as there was no need. He knew exactly where it was. He opened the lap drawer of his command center and reached inside.
It wasn’t there.
He threw aside pens, pencils, and a Happy Meal toy someone had given him as a joke. He was borderline panicked, but then his fingers wrapped around the crimped piece of metal. He sighed in relief. Stupid, he thought again, but he slid it into his pocket anyway. The bottlecap from the first beer he and Martin had shared, small and easy to carry, would serve as a daily reminder of why he was doing this.
He grabbed his bags, ran down the hall to the Sub T elevator, and pressed the button for the garage. His detour had taken but a few moments, and he was confident he would be able to make a clean getaway without anyone trying to stop him.
When the doors slid open, he swore under his breath, as it would have been disrespectful to curse his Warlord to the male’s face.
Mason leaned against the square pillar opposite the elevators, arms crossed over his chest. His shirt and slacks were wrinkle-free, his hair typically perfect. Merlin should have known he would make one final attempt to prevent him from leaving.
Merlin stepped out of the lift, his own hair pulled into a hasty tail, one that covered the falling star tattoo at the base of his neck. “Please, Mason. We talked about this last night. You know why I have to go.”
Mason pushed himself away from the post and walked to Merlin. “I do, but I thought you might like to explain it to them.”
It was a statement toward how out of sorts this decision had made him. He didn’t even realize the others were there, and by others, he meant everyone. Raven and Jessica moved to stand at Mason’s right hand, with Nox and Rachel next to them. To Mason’s left, Harrier stood with his arm around Kythryn’s shoulders. Tas and Viper fell in to make it a full count.
It was Raven who spoke first. “Mason says you’re leaving us.”
“And he knows why.”
Raven nodded. “He explained it to us, sure. I still don’t understand how you think being out there on your own will make you safer than you would be here surrounded by fighters.”
Merlin lowered his head, searched for the right words that would make them understand. “I appreciate your concern, Raven, all of you,” he added, making eye contact with each of them. “But you don’t know what we’re up against. The Kurai Senshi aren’t just fighters, they’re assassins. They, we, are trained in four thousand different ways of killing. It is what they do, all they know.”
Raven chuckled. “They’ve never met my beast. I think we’ll have an advantage in that area alone.”
Merlin shook his head and schooled his expression so as not to insult the Warrior with what he said next. “Raven, I’m afraid your beast would be eaten alive.”
Raven’s reaction, the half step backward and get-the-fuck-outa-here expression, would have been comical if things weren’t so dire. “You’re telling me that a bunch of Dark Warriors could take out my beast?”
Merlin sighed and let his bags fall to the ground. “No, I’m telling you that one Dark Warrior could take out your beast. Hell, I could take out your beast.”
Kythryn snorted at Harrier’s side, and Raven said, “Bullshit.”
“I wish it were.”
“I don’t buy it.”
Jessica reached for Raven’s hand, her expression thoughtful as she studied Merlin. “All of those katas,” she murmured, and Merlin bowed to her. She returned the gesture, sincerity in the movement though it was difficult to manage over her growing belly.
Mason put a hand on Raven’s shoulder and said, “Buy it. The Dark Warriors are the most dangerous Vampires on the planet. Merlin is right to be concerned, but I disagree with his decision to leave.”
“As I told Mason, I’m not worried about my own safety. But I refuse to be responsible for the deaths of the people I love. All of you, you’re my family, and I simply cannot stand by and watch the Dark Warriors kill you because you are trying to protect me. I believe in you all, I know you are strong and powerful males.”
Jessica cleared her throat.
“And females,” Merlin bowed to her again. “But that won’t make you any less dead.”
“But isn’t it up to us who we choose to lay our lives down for?” Jessica asked.
“Jessica’s right,” Tas added. “You are as much our family as we are yours. None of us, well, except for Harrier and that’s a recent development, none of us have family othe
r than the people standing here. I, for one, would rather die protecting you than live knowing we basically fed you to the wolves.”
Kythryn looked up at Harrier. She was the newest member of their household, but they had all learned she wasn’t afraid to put her two cents in. It seemed tonight would be no different.
“Tallywacker measuring aside,” she glanced from Merlin to Raven, “Harrier says you’re not only family, but reminded me that you’re responsible for bringing him back to me in one piece on more than one occasion. As far as I’m concerned that makes you worth dying for, so you can count me in. Me and Liger-Kitty are there.”
Merlin smiled. A cat Shifter who could turn into a thousand-pound Liger would definitely be something the Dark Warriors hadn’t seen before. She’d still die, but it would be fun to watch the assassins puzzle it out. Aside from the eminent death thing, of course.
“Did Mason tell you I’m having trouble controlling the Shade?”
Everyone offered some form of assent.
“Then you know it’s just a matter of time before I fall to its powers and Takeshi is able to track me here. This isn’t just a Legion Compound, it’s our home. A safe place for us, and for the Soldiers who follow our orders. For the children,” he added, giving Jessica and Rachel a hard look.
“Those Soldiers, BT-Dubs, to a male and female, have vowed to protect you,” Tas said.
“You told them about me?” Merlin was stunned. This wasn’t meant to be common knowledge.
“Of course not,” Tas said, with a snarl. “But it wouldn’t matter. You’re theirs as much as you are ours.”
“With all respect to the Warlord,” Rachel added in her lilting Scottish brogue, “This place would fall apart without you. You are the heart and blood of this Compound. Harrier’s isn’t the only tail you’ve saved over the years. I’d say you’re responsible for all of us being here in one way or another.”
“I appreciate your kind words, Rachel, all of you, but it changes nothing. You don’t understand what you’re putting yourselves up against. None of you have ever had to face anything like this.”
“That’s not entirely true.” Viper had been oddly silent throughout this little intervention, and his rough voice drew eyes from everyone.
“You’ve fought a Dark Warrior?” Merlin asked. “And lived?”
Viper stretched his tattooed arms out to his sides and shrugged. “Not saying it was a walk in the park, but I know what they’re capable of. Ever since Mason told me about you, I’ve been working on ways to counteract their advantages.”
Merlin frowned. “You knew?”
Viper nodded. “Yeah, for a while now.”
Hope sprung in Merlin’s chest, but he pushed it down, refusing to give it purchase. Still, if anyone could find a solution, it would be the Legion’s science and munitions expert. “What ways?”
“Well, first of all, I’ve developed a method for preventing them from sensing you when the Shade takes you. It hasn’t been tested, of course. Seemed counterproductive to ask you to Shade out when you had the thing under control. Why poke the dragon, ya know? But as long as we live, it was only a matter of time before this became an issue. Even you gotta get pissed or something over the course of a millennium. Gotta give it to you though.” He pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between his lips, lit it and inhaled. “You held out a helluva lot longer than I thought you would.” He blew the smoke off to the side, away from the females.
The others nodded agreement, but Merlin didn’t need their kudos. “You really think you can block their senses? Keep me hidden, even when I’m Shading?”
Viper lifted a shoulder, took another drag, and blew smoke out of his nose. “Won’t know until we test it, but yeah, I think we’ve got a shot.”
Merlin looked at the group gathered in front of him, each and every one reflecting back to him the hope he held in his heart. From Mason on down, every one of them stood prepared to defend him, no matter what. His parents hadn’t even given him that. If Viper’s contraption worked, then they would be in no more danger than they had been before. If it worked.
“When do you want to run the tests?” he asked.
The Warrior sucked on his cancer stick, blew out the smoke and stubbed the thing out on the palm of his leather biker’s glove. “No time like the present,” he said and walked past Merlin to the elevator, pushed the button. “You coming?”
Merlin looked back at Mason. The Warlord nodded, and against his better judgement, Merlin picked up his bags and followed the other Warrior into the lift.
As the doors closed, Raven’s voice carried into the car. “I still think I could take him.”
Chapter Five
M artin leaned against the brick building that served as one of the Soldiers’ barracks. It was a crisp night in early October, and being out in the country, the sky was an incredible picture of celestial light, the full moon a shimmering orb on a blanket of black. Not that he noticed. His eyes were face front and leveled directly on the grand building that sprawled over the hill on the far side of the Compound. The Warriors’ Manse.
Merlin’s in there, he thought, the image of the male’s black hair and almond-shaped eyes permanently etched in his mind. Martin closed his lids, and in the self-imposed darkness could almost feel those full lips pressed against his own. That one kiss was a moment frozen in time, his to relive over and over again, to his joy and to his misery.
He’d waited for him the night before, to join the celebration Jessica Sweet had prepared for them. It was one helluva picnic, complete with lawn games and grilled cow, but Merlin never turned up. Eventually, Perry convinced Martin to leave the Warrior party and join the wilder, less stuffy event taking place in the Soldiers’ quad. Reluctantly, he’d left, as it would have seemed odd, him wanting to stick around when the only other Soldier there took off. But that eliminated any chance he had of talking to Merlin. The Warrior had made it very clear where he stood regarding them, but Martin couldn’t help it. The heart wanted what it wanted.
Something crashed into him, knocked him off balance and shattered that one perfect memory into a million glittery shards.
“Martin, let’s go!” Kyte, one of the newer Soldiers in the ranks, stepped back to avoid Martin’s reflexive punch. “Whoa, dude. You need to relax.”
“I was relaxing,” Martin grumbled, his eyes falling back on the Legion Headquarters.
“Staring at that building ain’t gonna get you Warrior status any faster,” Kyte said. “Come on. Let’s blow off some steam.”
“Everything I want in life is inside that building.”
“Of course, it is.” Kyte nudged his shoulder again. “And someday you’ll get there. Until then, lighten up. Here.” He held out a silver flask with a cursive K carved on the front.
“What’s this?”
“Take a nip. You look like you could use it.”
Martin grabbed the flask and unscrewed the top. Not that human spirits had much of an effect on Vampires, but he’d do anything to ease the throbbing in his chest. He lifted the flagon to his lips, and took a long swallow, expecting vodka or scotch.
It was like getting mouth to mouth resuscitation from a fire-breathing dragon. Hot flames burned his esophagus, and he choked and sputtered as whatever the hell it was scorched his innards.
“Hey, hey, careful with that.” Kyte grabbed the flask from his hands before he dropped it and retrieved the cap from the ground where it had fallen. “This stuff don’t grow on trees, you know.” He took a small sip, shook his head, his square jowls flapping like a Shar-Pei puppy’s.
“What the hell was that?” Martin felt the fire in his throat ease as warmth spread throughout his body. An odd sensation filled him, as though he were lighter than air, floating on a cloud of cotton candy. Everything he’d been thinking, every emotion, faded into inconsequential nothingness.
He recognized the feeling. He’d once consumed an entire case of tequila in an hour, and for about ten minutes he’d experienced
this incredible sense of bliss. But that was a lot of tequila. This was one drink, and the feeling wasn’t going away. If anything, it was intensifying.
Kyte started giggling, which, for some strange reason, Martin found hysterical.
“You need to take it easy with this stuff,” Kyte said. “It’s liquid gold. Oz’s been working on it for some time now, and he’s finally perfected it.”
Martin stumbled and a short giggle escaped his lips. He slapped a hand over his mouth to cover the sound. When he regained control, he said, “But what is it?”
“Vampahol,” Kyte said, helping himself to another sip. “It’ll light you up like a Fourth of July firecracker, but leave you with almost no hangover.”
“It tastes awful.” Martin held his hand out for the flask and wiggled his fingers when Kyte refused to give it over.
Instead, the Soldier pulled it back and dangled it out of his reach. “First things first.” He walked back into the barracks with Martin hot on his heels. “Martin’s coming with,” Kyte said to Osprey, Oz to his friends.
The male lounged on a sofa in the rec room, his booted feet balanced on the low table in front of him. He sported a buzz cut, like most of the Soldiers, and had sharp, hazel eyes that looked muddier than usual. He didn’t move his long legs from the table, barely reacted at all. Martin should have taken this unusually relaxed behavior from one of the Legion’s most intense Soldiers as a warning.
“Is he lit,” Oz drawled, his Kentucky accent bleeding through on a Vampahol haze.
“On his way,” Kyte said.
Oz sat up and reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a small container and threw it at Martin. “Put these in.”
“What are they?” The container had two lids screwed on the top and when he shook it, it sounded like there was liquid inside.
“Contact lenses. I made them myself. If you’re gonna be drinking with us, you need them, just in case.”