Fallen Warrior (The Fallen Cross Legion Book 3)

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Fallen Warrior (The Fallen Cross Legion Book 3) Page 8

by Aliya DalRae


  “Kurai Senshi, my Dark Warriors. Several days ago, I presented you to Takeshi Senshi, one of our oldest Warriors from the Clan’s original home in Japan. Takeshi Senshi has come to us with a request, and though I have it in my power to order you to comply, this is not a request I take lightly. We are Kurai Senshi, we are one unit, one entity, but each Senshi is unique in his or her own right. I often joke that we are not the Borg, we are the Enterprise, and I value each of you and your individuality. That is why I cannot in good conscience order you to do as Takeshi Senshi demands.”

  Takeshi ground his molars and fisted his hands at his sides. This was not what he expected Master Jonathon to say. It was a simple matter to direct the cadre to follow Takeshi’s orders. What was this individuality nonsense? They were Kurai Senshi. From where he started, Dark Warriors were not given a choice. They were ordered and they obeyed. He tamped down the Shade and tuned back in to Jonathon’s speech.

  “The male Takeshi Senshi seeks is wanted for failure to comply with orders to commit seppuku. For you younger Warriors, that’s ritual suicide, performed by the Kurai Senshi in olden days for bringing shame to his family. In this case, to the Kurai Senshi. Katsuro Senshi committed these sins, for lack of a better word, more than a thousand years ago. While I understand the desire Takeshi Senshi has to find closure in bringing this… criminal… to justice, I’m afraid many of you won’t agree.”

  Takeshi stepped forward. This had gone on long enough. “Master Jonathon, it is not for the Dark Warriors to decide if a punishment fits a crime. That is for me, for Master Masaru, to determine, and judgement has been passed. Simply transfer temporary command of these Warriors to me, and I will be out of your hair the minute Katsuro is captured.”

  Jonathon turned to him, and the sky darkened along with the master’s eyes. “With respect to your age and seniority as far as that takes you, this is my cadre, my little piece of the Clan, if you will. While I’m a pretty easy fella to get along with, I will not have anyone, even one as esteemed as you, Senshi, come to my home and assume command of my Warriors. Is that understood?”

  Takeshi, stepped back, but let the Shade bleed through his eyes as well. As much as he wanted to slap this young Warrior into submission, he reminded himself that doing so would not gain him the Warriors he needed. He pushed the Shade aside again and offered Master Jonathon a deep bow. “Apologies, Senshi.”

  Jonathon held the Shade a moment longer, then dismissed it before returning the bow. His eyes never left Takeshi’s, though, and the warning there was clear. He straightened and turned to face the ranks once more.

  “As I was saying.”

  One of the Warriors stepped out of line and raised his hand. Jonathon said, “Allan Senshi. Ask the question to which everyone here seeks an answer.”

  The young male said, “Master, what crime is Katsuro Senshi guilty of?”

  Jonathon turned to Takeshi. “The short answer, if you please.”

  Takeshi walked to the block of Warriors and looked the front ranks in the eye one by one. Certain he had their attention he said, “Katsuro has been found guilty of sexual conduct with another male. Another Warrior who was brave enough to do the right thing. Rather than face his punishment, to seek peace in seppuku, Katsuro ran, dishonoring not only himself, but the Kurai Senshi as well. Only his death will bring honor back to the Clan.”

  He returned to his place beside Master Jonathon, certain that now he would have the support he needed. What happened, though, came as a complete shock. The ranks disrupted, quiet mutterings growing into louder calls of, “Bullshit,” and so much worse. Takeshi scanned the crowd, stunned at their lack of belief in the Kurai Senshi code of honor.

  “It’s the fucking twenty-first century, you bigot,” one of the Warriors yelled while others picked up a chant, branding him a homophobe and other such nonsense. That was ridiculous, of course. He didn’t fear Katsuro or his kind. He simply hated him for dishonoring his beloved Clan.

  Even back then, the Warriors were not denied interaction with females. There was no reason for them to desecrate themselves or the Kurai Senshi by laying together with another male. He would call them animals, but even the animals knew which gender to fuck. What Katsuro and Kioshi did was an abomination, one from which Kioshi repented and regained his place of honor in the afterlife. Katsuro had to die for his sins.

  As the ruckus among the ranks grew, Takeshi could feel Jonathon’s eyes upon him. He glanced over his shoulder to find the male watching his reaction to what took place before them. He knew his Warriors, Takeshi would give him that. But as he returned his attention to the ranks, a quick scan told him everything he needed to know. Not everyone appeared to agree with the majority. Several males caught his eye and nodded.

  Master Jonathon stepped forward and held a hand in the air. The Warriors immediately fell into order, their mouths closed, though their anger still burned. “As you can see, Takeshi Senshi, my Warriors disagree with your quest.”

  “It is not their place to disagree,” he said, but Jonathon shrugged.

  “Maybe not where you come from, but here? I wouldn’t call us a democracy exactly, but these males and females have a leader who cares about right and wrong. Your antiquated ideals and rules won’t be tolerated here. Now, out of respect for Master Masaru, you can stay here as long as you like, but I’m afraid when it comes to tracking your criminal, you’re on your own.”

  ~~~~~

  T akeshi seethed as Master Jonathon led him back to the main house. The Warriors were dismissed without further discussion or direction, and Takeshi was led away like a dog on a leash. With a stern reminder that he was not to use the Dark Warriors here for his purposes, Jonathan left him in the grand foyer to work out what had happened.

  With no desire to run into the master again, Takeshi returned to his room to ponder his next move. His mind returned more often than not to the handful of males who stood silent while the majority of the cadre threw their righteous fit. If only there were a way to get word to them, but how could he? It wasn’t like he knew the names of any of the Kurai Senshi here, let alone the specific ones he sought. One word in the wrong ear, and he not only would be without Master Jonathon’s assistance, he’d be off the property, and then it would be impossible for him to recruit these likeminded fellows.

  The night dragged on, and Takeshi remained no closer to a resolution than he’d been hours before. A knock at the door drew him from his contemplation.

  “Come,” he said, though he would have preferred to send the intruder away.

  The door opened, and a timid male, small compared to most of the Kurai Senshi he’d seen in the yard, entered carrying a tray. The smell of beef and something fried filled the air, and Takeshi’s stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since earlier in the evening, and then not much. He’d been distracted by Master Jonathon’s questions, thinking his quest had neared its end, only to be thwarted by something as silly as “individuality.”

  When the male didn’t move, Takeshi said, “On the table over there.” He’d get to the food when he felt like it. But first, he needed a plan.

  It was a few moments more when he realized the male was still there, his dark eyes darting around the room as though he awaited a tip.

  “What is it?” Takeshi asked.

  The male cleared his throat and said, “Your meal, sir.” He looked from the plate to Takeshi, then at the door he’d failed to close upon entering. Then he glanced back at the plate with a pointed look back at Takeshi.

  Odd behavior, yes, but there was more to it. Takeshi rose from the chair he lounged upon and approached the table. The male gathered a cloth napkin from the tray and held it out to Takeshi as he motioned for him to sit.

  With a wary eye, Takeshi sat. The male glanced at the door again before shaking the napkin out and reaching to place it on Takeshi’s lap. As no one had done this since he arrived, not even during formal meals, Takeshi grabbed the male’s wrist, his eyes drawing the Shade in a brief show
of superiority.

  “Please, sir,” the male whispered. He looked at the hand holding the napkin, and once again at Takeshi. Odd behavior, indeed.

  With his curiosity peaked, Takeshi offered a small bow, his eyes planted solidly on those of the young Warrior. “As you will.”

  The male breathed out a long breath, then placed the napkin gently on Takeshi’s lap. When he withdrew his hand, there was a piece of paper peeking out from the corner of the cloth.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said, and practically ran for the door. Remembering himself, he stopped and added, “Will there be anything else you require, sir?”

  Takeshi waved him away, waited for the door to close behind the young male before reaching for the paper. A note, of course, but from whom?

  The message was brief… and in Japanese. The woods that face your terrace. Three AM. Tell no one.

  ~~~~~

  W hen the appointed time arrived, Takeshi stepped through the terrace doors onto the balcony attached to his second-floor room. He scanned the side of the house, left and right. None of the rooms shone with light, nor did they show any signs of life he could see.

  He slipped over the balcony’s stone wall and dropped silently to the ground below, keeping low and to the shadows until he reached the tree line. Once there, he crept into the woods, traveling several yards before he felt safe enough to stop.

  The silence with which these Kurai Senshi appeared surprised Takeshi. There were very few who could approach him undetected, and the fact that these three did so sent an added jolt of excitement through him. He may not have the whole cadre on his side, but it would appear those he did have were beyond worthy of the name Kurai Senshi.

  The male who spoke was of Japanese descent, and when he addressed Takeshi, it was in their mother language. He introduced himself as Yuuma Senshi.

  “We must be quick,” the male said. “Not everyone holds true to Master Jonathon’s beliefs. Some of us prefer the ways of the old Clan. Your ways, Takeshi Senshi. If you would honor us, we would join you in your quest.”

  The two others nodded once in agreement, and Takeshi smiled his first real smile since stepping foot in this gods-forsaken country.

  The first male continued in Japanese. “Your quarry, assuming it is the male you seek, has been sensed in the area of Fallen Cross. It is twenty miles or so southwest of here. I would suggest we send a couple of males loyal to me into town to see what they can discover. I’ve heard there are Vampires there, though not our kind, and I’ve never actually seen them. But if they are Legion, as I suspect, we may be able to capture one or two and bring them to a place I know for questioning. If they possess knowledge of your dishonored Clansman, we will get the information from them.”

  Takeshi nodded, knowing that even these three, combined with his efforts, would be enough to take down a battalion of Legion Soldiers, barely breaking a sweat. Still, he had to know. “If we find Katsuro, and he is Legion, how many will we have fighting beside us?”

  The male smiled. “As of now? Twenty. By the time we attack, I can all but guarantee more. I will make the arrangements and let you know when our patrols return. You, go finish your lunch.”

  Takeshi blinked and the three males were gone. Suddenly famished, he returned to his room and ate the cold burger and fries with the same appreciation he’d have had for a five-star meal.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A fter meeting with Mason, Nox put in a long night of patrol followed by a couple hours of Bird Box training. He returned to the suite where he spent most of his nights with Rachel and the twins, his body a mass of bruises and his brain packed full of entirely too much information.

  He still hadn’t gotten the hang of fighting in the dark, still got his ass kicked every time Viper snuck up on him. And how was the Warrior able to be so damn quiet? Nox was a Vampire, same as the rest of the Soldiers, and in two sessions not one of them succeeded in thwarting the Warrior’s attacks. No one had even come close. If these Dark Warriors were as dangerous as Viper said, then they might just as well hang it up. They were all toast.

  But none of that mattered much right now. What mattered was the situation between him and Rachel. If they didn’t patch things up and soon, he would gladly stand before a hundred Kurai Senshi and let them take him out. Life wasn’t worth living without peace between him and his mate.

  With Rachel’s niece and nephew around, there wasn’t a lot of alone time for them to discuss the Sasha situation. Phire was obsessed with one of her homework projects and Talon was obsessed with irritating his twin, which left little opportunity for Nox and Rachel to come to any kind of an understanding.

  Finally, exhausted, Nox gave Rachel a kiss on the forehead and left to spend the day in his rooms across the hall from Raven. Rachel, acting as referee between the children, could only nod at him as he walked out the door.

  I love you. He sent the words directly into her mind, a bonus connection his special talents bestowed upon him with Rachel and one other. Considering Rachel’s niece, Jessica, was the other, he figured it had something to do with their bloodline. He hoped he never had the occasion to discover if he could share thoughts with the Seer, Victoria, though. Rachel’s mother was a right bitch.

  When she didn’t reply, he hoofed it to the elevators and made the quick trek up to his suite. There he spent the day in various stages of tossing and/or turning. At one point he startled awake, Rachel’s voice echoing in his mind, but when he reached out to her, there was no response.

  He vowed whatever happened, he would fix this. Not having time to discuss it rationally tap, tap, tapped on that wedge between them. But once Sasha was on site, he would turn her over to Mason, Merlin, to the fricking Soldiers if he had to, and he would sit his love down and explain… no prove… to her that she had nothing to worry about.

  Fast forward to sundown, and Nox was on his way to town again, alone this time, and on a mission to retrieve the very person responsible for the misunderstandings between him and his love.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t understand Rachel’s misgivings. Nox was putting a lot of trust in Sasha, a woman capable of controlling his unique mind, turning him into a puppet and leaving him vulnerable to whatever evils the world had to offer. But Primeval Magnus was under lock and key, and Fuhrmann and Maxx were in the wind.

  Besides, the Legion needed Sasha if they had any chance of warding off the Dark Warriors. She was the best hope they had.

  A sultry female voice told him to turn right, and Nox followed the GPS’s instructions down a gravel lane. Rachel had programmed the damn thing, thought it was funny, and maybe it was at the time. Now he found the sound annoying and wished they’d chosen some robotic voice instead.

  He pulled behind an old farmhouse, with faded siding and a sagging roof. Now that he saw the place, he was glad Sasha would be living with them. At the Compound. On some other floor. Far away from Nox and Rachel, and the kids, and…

  The door opened and there she was. The brown hair sitting on her shoulders looked unnatural, and he thought he’d never get used to seeing her like this. He met her on the porch where he reached for the bag that sat at her feet, but she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight before he could fill his hands.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He untangled her arms from around his neck and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “You’ll be working with Viper and he can be…”

  “Don’t tell me. Difficult?”

  “Not the word I was going for, but sure. It’ll work.”

  They got things loaded up, not that there was much. Sasha had some clothes and a few personal items, a laptop and some books, and that was about it. With nothing left to do, they climbed into the vehicle and Nox executed a K-turn. As they headed down the dusty lane an uneasy silence fell between them.

  “Any trouble with the landlord?” he asked, breaking the quiet.

  “No,” she said. “It was a short-term lease anyway, and he wa
s very kind.”

  “Good,” Nox said. “Good.”

  “You’re sure this is no trouble? That Mason is okay with me staying with you?”

  Ice trickled down his spine at her choice of words, and he did a quick tap dance to make sure they were on the same page. “Mason’s happy to have you at the Compound. They have a suite set up for you, where you’ll have your own space, a little kitchen, all that. But I warn you, they are eager to put you to work.”

  “With Viper,” she said. “The difficult one.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Your female wasn’t very happy to see me.”

  That was out of the blue but dead on accurate, and Nox shifted awkwardly in his seat. “We do have history with your race,” he reminded her.

  “What was that like?” Sasha stared out the window as though the surroundings were fascinating, but Nox picked up on the edge in her voice. Of course, the Legion probably had more experience with her kind than she did, so it made sense she would be a little tetchy about it.

  “Not good,” he answered at last. “Ulrich Fuhrmann is a mean son of a bitch. You met him. You know what he’s capable of, what he tried to do to me and Raven.”

  She turned to him as he spoke, her eyes bright in the yellow glow of the street lights strobing through the vehicle.

  “I’m not saying your whole race is evil, Sasha, but for us, it’s not been a good experience. What went down between you and me notwithstanding, the Sorcerers we’ve met seem to thrive on malevolence. They seek vengeance for things that are mostly their doing. Not the Sylva thing,” he said. “That’s on Raven and the Primeval, but beyond that, things continue to escalate. Now we have a new threat to deal with… well, I’ll let Mason fill you in on that.”

  “So, you think Ulrich Fuhrmann is… not a good person to know?”

  “I think he’s a chip off the old block. Uli’s bad, to the bone I’d say, but his father? Helmut Fuhrmann? That man makes Uli look like a kindergarten teacher. I’ve got to be honest with you, Sasha. There are some on the Compound who won’t be too happy to have you there. The Soldiers aren’t going to understand, and maybe a Warrior or two.”

 

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