HeroRising

by Anna Alexander

  “You get rid of Smithwick and another will take his place. Men like him are like a hydra. Cut off one head and out sprout three more.”

  “But this one will be gone.”

  Bale shook his head. “I cannot do what you ask. My actions have hurt Ari enough. I am to pay for my crimes, not commit new ones.”

  “That’s noble. Misguided, but noble. Look, without your confession, the DA has no solid evidence to prosecute you with. If I were to have arrested you and you fought the charges, the only things they’d have is a video feed without a clear shot of your face and eye witness accounts, which are spotty at best. The case against you is weak. As I said, you’ll get a slap on the wrist, maybe a spanking. If you really want to atone for your sins, you’ll help me put an end to Smithwick.”

  Damn it. Bale clenched his jaw against a scream. Why was it that whenever he begged for punishment, his wish was never granted, yet when he wanted nothing but peace, his world tumbled down in fire and brimstone?

  If the captain was to be believed, the sacrifice of his freedom would be minimal at best. And unfortunately for him, there was nothing in DeWinter’s demeanor that suggested he wasn’t telling anything but the truth. To prove his contrition to Ari, his gesture needed to be grand. He needed epic.

  He needed to not break the law again.

  “I cannot, Captain.” He placed his hand on his chest and pressed against the ache. “I cannot hurt Ari.”

  A flare of frustration whipped from DeWinter like a hot lash. “Think of the girls you will be saving. The girls you have saved. Women like Ari. Bale, why be the Claymore in the first place? Why have you been doing what you have?”

  “To protect those who cannot protect themselves.” The response was so ingrained in his psyche, it came readily to his lips.

  “And that’s what I’m asking you to do now.” He rose and straightened his blazer. “I’ll give you some time to think it over. Help me nail Smithwick, then the Claymore can disappear forever. If I don’t hear from you by five tomorrow night, I’ll be right over at The Cavern and will arrest you on sight.”

  And with that, he left Bale alone to wallow in his self-pity. This feeling of impotency made his blood boil over like an acidic reaction, propelling him from the room as if shot from a cannon. He burst out of the closest exit onto the street and ran. And ran. And ran. Screaming like a siren as his rage consumed him to the point of violence. Only his unspoken vow to Ari to do no harm kept him from tearing the nearest building down with his bare hands.

  How was he going to prove to Ari he could be a better man and pay for his mistakes if no one allowed him to? The only person who had ever come close to delivering the punishment he deserved had been Amaryllis—

  Amaryllis.

  He pulled up short as the tiniest flicker of hope sparked in the darkness of his hearts.

  Yes, his princess always knew what a person needed. She helped him see the truth when he had come to take her life and punished him accordingly. The tools still existed to help him again. Fortunately, he knew who had access to those tools.

  From his jacket pocket he withdrew his phone and found the number for his potential savior. As the line rang, he held his breath. Thank the Gods, there was a quick answer.

  “Bale?”

  “Jorges, I need your assistance. I need you to meet me at The Cavern. Bring the chain.”

  “The chain?”

  “The chain.”

  There was a long pause with only Jorges’ gentle breathing disrupting the silence. His worry and curiosity reached across the distance as he asked in a hushed voice, “Who’s it for?”

  “Me.”

  “What’s going on, Bale?”

  “I will explain later.”

  “Explain now.”

  He grunted with frustration. “Ari knows everything. She’s broken. I need to pay for my crimes and the police will not cooperate. I know you have the chain and I know Amaryllis and Lucian will disagree with my wishes if they know what I have planned. Please, help me, Jorges. You’re the only one who can.”

  He sighed loudly. “Okay. We’re just finishing up with dinner. I can be there in half an hour.”

  Relief made his knees buckle. “Thank you. Meet me in the locker.”

  “Damn, you are fighting some demons. See you there.”

  He tapped the end of the phone against his forehead and released a long breath. There was every possibility Jorges could expose his plan to the princess, but he prayed the man understood his desperation and allowed him the opportunity to make things right in his own way.

  The skies split open and rain pelted the earth in a furious waterfall. The deluge was either a sign that his soul would be cleansed or an omen of ill yet to come. With his luck, both were possibilities.

  When Jorges met him twenty-seven minutes later in the basement far beneath the nightclub, the tension in his muscles began to abate. Finally, salvation was within his grasp.

  “Thank you, Jorges,” he said with a firm handshake.

  He nodded. “I can’t pretend to know what you’re thinking, but I know you’d rather cut off your nuts than ask for help, so I figured this must be serious.”

  “You would be correct.”

  Jorges unlocked the door and pushed it open. “After you.”

  The locker was the affectionate term for the storage unit in the basement of the nightclub. Cold, damp and with a single light bulb for illumination, it was the room where spare furniture and decorations from events past lived until called upon for service again. Since Jorges rarely reused his ideas, very few people came down this hall, which made this the perfect location for Bale’s purpose.

  Jorges set down a leather bag and withdrew several yards of thick chain. “How do you want to do this?”

  Bale surveyed the room, up, down and all around until he spotted a line of straight-back chairs hanging from a hook screwed into the ceiling. “That might do.”

  With Jorges’ help he moved the chairs. Once the task was finished Bale nodded at the hook. “Hang on and see if it will hold your body weight. If I try at full strength, I’ll rip it out of the ceiling.”

  Jorges leapt into the air for the hook. He hung on for fifteen seconds before dropping back to the ground. “Felt good. Not even a squeak.”

  “Good. Let’s do this.” He stripped off his shirt while Jorges climbed onto a chair to secure the center of the chain to the hook.

  “Arms up or down?”

  “Up. I’m not doing this for comfort.”

  Bale lifted his arms and Jorges wound the chain around each wrist then pulled until his torso stretched out long before continuing to spiral the ends of the chain around each arm. While Jorges finished wrapping his legs, Bale felt the molybdenite leech the strength from his muscles. The last time he had been bound in such a manner, he had been unconscious and missed out on the rolling nausea and dizziness that came with losing his powers. It was terrifying being parted with his ability to defend himself, but the terror was nothing compared to the pain Ari felt when faced with who he was. If it made the situation any better, he’d suffer the loss a million times over.

  “Is this what you wanted?” Jorges asked as he stepped back.

  “Ya.”

  “How long do you want me to wait before I tell Lucian and Amaryllis?”

  The question almost made him smile. At least Jorges was granting him this small boon. “A year?”

  “No.”

  “A month.”

  “We both know that’s not going to happen. I guess it will be up to me to decide when you’ve had enough time to settle in before calling Mom and Dad. The anticipation will be part of your self-inflicted punishment.”

  “Thank you, Jorges,” he slurred as the effects of the chain seeped into his bones. Fire bloomed in his shoulders as his body weight pulled on the chains.

  “Keep that in mind when Amaryllis lays into you. Good luck, Bale.”

  His eyelids grew heavy and his vision blurred as Jorges’ footsteps
faded into the darkness. The descending silence went beyond the absence of sound. Without his powers he no longer was able to sense emotions. For the second time in his life he wasn’t bombarded by the constant noise of living. No buzz, no hum. Absolute nothingness. Numb, as if dead.

  After all he had done, death would be a reward he didn’t deserve.

  * * * * *

  The sound of a whistling tea kettle roused Ari from her nightmares. Bale had stood in her living room and calmly declared himself a murderer. The image had been the most horrible thing she ever witnessed.

  Wait. Tea kettle? Was Bale still in the apartment with her?

  She sat up with a gasp and frowned when she realized she was laid out on the couch. In the kitchen Amaryllis hummed while she poured boiling water into two mugs.

  “I was wondering how long you’d be asleep,” she said by way of greeting.

  Ari rubbed her cheek as if she could still fill the chilly bathroom tile against her skin. “I’m so confused. Why are you here? How did I get on the couch?”

  “I carried you. And do you seriously have to ask as to why I am here?”

  “You carried me? But how…” The words died as Amaryllis came into the living room with a knowing smile on her lips, as if it were no great effort to have carried a grown woman across the room. “You’re like Bale, aren’t you?”

  “Meaning am I from another planet and have special powers? Then yes.”

  Well fuck. She sank into the cushions. “Is it true? Is what he said true?”

  “Well, I don’t know exactly what he told you, but judging by the sobbing heap I saw in the hallway, I would say yes to that too.”

  “Who was sobbing?” she asked and watched as Amaryllis set one of the mugs on the coffee table.

  “Bale. He was devastated by your reaction.”

  “He’s killed people, Amaryllis. For money. How was I supposed to react?”

  “Just as you have. I was not belittling you for your feelings, Ari. Believe me. Here, take this. It will help steady your nerves and sooth your throat.” The scent of orange and cinnamon tickled her nose as Amaryllis offered her a steaming mug.

  “I don’t think I should,” she croaked and stuck her shaking hands under her butt. “I’ll spill and burn myself.”

  “Give me your hand.” She pulled at her wrist and guided her fingers around the warm mug and held them with her own. “Wrap them around the ceramic. Let the warmth seep into your hands and travel up your arms to your heart. Breathe and know that all will be well.”

  In the swirling depths of Amaryllis’ all seeing-eyes, Ari desperately wanted to believe her, but the notion was impossible. “How can you say that? What does that even mean? I can’t unlearn what I’ve learned.” Distress made her voice squeak. “I am in love with a murderer. How sick does that make me? I’m like those women who form fan clubs about mass murderers and marry them in prison.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. You are perfectly normal. You fell in love with Bale as the man he is today, not the man from the past. And the man you fear was only who he was for a brief moment in time and not who he truly is.”

  “You’re speaking in riddles to try to confuse me and make this whole mess seem not that important.”

  “No, I’m only trying to give you perspective. How would you like it if I called you an adulterer because of your affair with that married politician and treated you with disdain?”

  She flinched as if slapped. “That’s not fair. I didn’t know he was married, and I ended the relationship the second I found out.”

  “But you were still involved with a married man and caused anguish to his family. Ari, you cannot choose to live in shades of gray when it suits your purposes. Now, Bale told you his story. Let me tell you mine. Settle in, lebshone.” She sat beside her on the couch and covered both of their laps with a fleece blanket. “When a kingdom is at war it affects everyone, no matter their station, and there is no escape from its reach. Bale is a warrior. Born to fight and protect and he is very good at it. That is why he was selected to serve on my father’s guard.”

  “Your father? Wait, the king?” Holy crap. “That means you’re—”

  “Was.” Her smile was bittersweet. “Was, darling. My father was a king who came from a long, long, long line of kings. He was a good king but also a very arrogant one. He was naïve about the lives of his people. My mother did all she could to connect him with those they ruled, but she was female. What do females know of politics and leadership? As I said, arrogant. The people revolted, but those who led the revolution where no better than my father and his lords. Lives were destroyed. Families torn apart, like Bale’s and mine. For my protection I was sent to Earth. My exile was a blessing and a curse. I knew I would never see my friends or family again but here I have so many more freedoms than I did back on Skandavia. Earth is my home and I love it here.”

  Ari held her breath as Amaryllis’ eyes filled with tears before she looked down at her lap. Her pink-tipped nails plucked at the fluffy fabric.

  “My mother was killed while trying to make peace with the revolutionaries. Lucian’s brother was the head of her guard and was punished for his failure. He was offered banishment or death. He chose banishment. Lucian stood by his brother’s side, and they were sent here.” A small grin broke free. “He wanted to keep an eye on me. But that’s another story. Without Lucian, my father’s crown fell and he was executed. To ensure that no member of the royal family existed to retake the throne, the new regime hired an assassin to come to Earth and kill me.”

  “Bale. Bale was sent to kill you?”

  “And Lucian and his brother.”

  “That’s insane.” She jumped off the couch, so stunned she barely registered the hot tea as it sloshed over her hands. “And you still speak to him? Invite him into your home?”

  “Ari. Sit down. This is my story.” She reached out and grabbed a fistful of skirt, tugging her back onto her seat. “I haven’t reached my point yet.”

  “This better be the holy grail of all morals.”

  “You’ll see.” She laughed. “Yes, Bale was sent to kill me. But he wasn’t acting on greed for money or the thrill of the hunt. He was angry. He was wounded. And he was severely misguided. Did Bale explain our powers?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “The strength and speed we inherited when we arrived on this planet. On Skandavia the only power we have is empathy. There are many instances where verbal or visual communication is limited, so our species have developed the ability to read each other’s emotions. That power is magnified a thousand-fold when a couple chooses to bond and meshes their emotions together. The bond is so strong, it lasts vast distances, even time.” She smoothed down a lock of her sable hair and smiled. “I used to have silver hair, but then I bonded with Lucian and inherited his hair color, and his green eyes turned lavender. All bonded mates share coloring to reflect their connection.”

  “Wait a minute. So all of this time you’ve been able to know what I’m feeling?” The horrible realization stabbed her through the ribs. “Bale has known what I’ve been feeling?”

  “Yes. That is why your grief affected him so greatly. As a human, you have no filter on your emotions, and Bale has a difficult time handling such purity. Even from my apartment I was able to sense your pain like I was trapped in an avalanche of rocks underwater. For Bale, you absolutely leveled him, but that’s not my point. You see, Bale never bonded with his wife and that was why he was so angry at the world. Once bonded, your entire being is opened to the other. There is no hiding, no secrets, and Bale didn’t trust his wife with truth of the darkness that lives inside a Llanos warrior. There’s a hardness, an infinity for violence and an intense sex drive, which you’ve experienced, and he felt she was too delicate to understand who he was. When she was killed, he felt as if he failed her as a protector and a husband and the guilt drove him mad.”

  “That doesn’t excuse him from trying to kill you.”

  “No, it d
oesn’t. But I forgave him. Once I was able to make him realize that killing was not the way to honor his family, that is when he turned into the vigilante. To protect those who could not protect themselves. But he fights with that guilt every day. Believe me when I say no one hates Bale more than himself.”

  “But I don’t hate—” She sucked in the words before they spilled into the air where they could never be taken back.

  She did hate Bale. Didn’t she? By all rights, she should despise him because… He made bad choices in the past and had the audacity to try to make up for it? God, that made her sound so shallow. But she was supposed to hate him, right?

  She dropped her face into her hand and groaned. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “Let me add one more thought to consider.”

  “Must you?”

  “Yes.” She patted her on the knee. “War makes monsters out of even the best of men. Whether they are a villain or hero depends on which side they are fighting on. A soldier in combat is instructed to kill the enemy. What if that enemy is just a man, much like the soldier, who was forced to fight by his government or watch his family be killed? He may not believe what he is fighting for, but he has no choice so he takes up arms. Aren’t these soldiers paid to defend and protect? Aren’t they paid to kill? It is all about prospective, Ari. Not everyone is one hundred percent guilty nor one hundred percent innocent. There is no black and white but an infinite number of shades of gray.”

  Ari sighed and rested her head against the back of the sofa. “This sucks. I don’t want to be an adult anymore. Even the crappiness of my childhood was easier to traverse than this mess.”

  “But not nearly as much fun.” The chirp of Amaryllis’ cellphone interrupted her laughter. She frowned at the display before she answered. “Hello, Jorges.”