Kings of Carrion

by Keri Lake

  A warm palm slides over my hip, and I feel Cadmus pressing into me from behind, his solid chest hard against my back. Arm crossed over my belly, he tugs me into him, and I close my eyes when he presses his face into my neck. While lying close to me isn’t new for him, touching me is, and I suspect it was incited by my hand on his skin earlier, when I reached out for him. Except for Cadmus, this isn’t about sex, or lust.

  The contact with his skin sends a wave of pain down through my womb, and I grunt, curling into it, desperate to keep as quiet as I can. Tiny pinpricks needle my organs, as the deep, cramping ache spreads across my abdomen.

  “You’re in estrus.” His voice is ragged and carries an edge of desperation that I know I’ve incited with my response, but his motives aren’t aligned with my own. He craves something more than my body, something he’s willing to manipulate and bend to get his hands on. “If I were a different man, I’d relieve you of this pain. Lying beside you has become my greatest torment.”

  “You’re welcome to sleep by the fire,” I say coldly, pushing his hand away.

  He captures my wrist, tucking it against my body, as he holds me tight to him. “You know there isn’t a chance in hell I’d sacrifice a night beside you to sleep by a fire.” This is his torture, his punishment toward me, for having stolen away his means of escape from the mental torment he still suffers since Calico. He knows how his presence, the closeness of him, affects my body during this cycle. How the scent of an Alpha can throw me into the misery of my body’s involuntary response to it.

  All for his own selfish gain.

  Though my skin burns with the need to feel his hands on me, the relief won’t be enough to distract me from the heartbreak that’s splintered me into a thousand pieces. It lingered when Titus made quick work of his release during my last estrus, without a single word spoken. As cold and detached as he could muster for the sake of his friend, while sparing me the agony of suffering, as Neela had back at Calico. And I mourned for days after. Cursed the bastards of Calico for ensuring that I would forever suffer the needs of my body, as I’m certain it was their intent that, should my Champion perish for whatever reason, I could quickly be reassigned another.

  All for the greater good.

  Through deep breaths, I close my eyes and push the pain away. “I need you to do something for me, Cadmus.”

  He rolls away from me, offering some relief to the burgeoning ache in my womb. “You know I only do favors when there’s something in it for me.”

  I’m well aware that the favor he seeks isn’t sex, but the drugs I’ve withheld from him. The peyote he took to for weeks in his failed attempts to escape whatever horrors still cloud his mind. Since the night at the waterfall, he hasn’t said a word about what happened to him while in isolation at Calico. Though the drugs may have given him moments of contentment, it rendered him useless to our cause, and nearly ended his life when the last hive mounted an attack against us. If not for Titus, Cadmus would’ve been slaughtered with a smile on his face. High as the leaves on a cottonwood tree.

  Ignoring his request, I roll onto my back and turn to face him. “I want you to punish Tessa’s father. But don’t kill him.”

  His jaw shifts, the sharp planes of his bones giving life to unspoken contemplation in his head. “What for?”

  I could tell him, but I have a sense that seeing it for himself will ensure her father’s pain. “Go have a look for yourself. Inside their tent.” I’m not even sure what he’ll find there, but if Tessa’s reaction earlier is anything to go by, I’m certain it won’t be innocent.

  “What would you have me do?” By the air of disgust in his voice, I know he understands what I mean.

  “Ensure that he doesn’t do it again. To any child.”

  Finally turning to face me, he wears the defiant expression of the man I knew back in Calico. One who found amusement in torment. “How fortunate for you that I enjoy inflicting pain almost as much as getting high on it.”

  “Then, you won’t disappoint.” As he pushes up from the bed, hiding his persistent erection behind the pants he pulls up his thighs, I stare up at him. “Not in front of the girls.”

  “Of course not.” He jumps off the back of the truck, tucking a blade into his waistband, before he disappears out of view.

  “He’ll kill him, you know.” Titus still lies, with his back to me. “It’s what I would do.”

  “Those girls won’t survive on their own. And we can’t take them with us. We’ve no idea what we’re walking into with these rebels. They could be hostile toward us.”

  He rolls onto his back and tucks his arm beneath his head. “Then you probably shouldn’t have sent a trained killer after the man.”

  Biting my lip, I contemplate that for a moment and scramble to my feet. Hopping out the back of the vehicle, I throw on my boots and eye Cadmus, who hasn’t yet reached the tent. Not daring to call out to him, I run through the darkness to catch up, and both of us pause at the sounds of muffled sobbing. We exchange a glance. “Promise me you won’t kill him,” I whisper.

  “No promises.” Cadmus lurches forward, but I grab his arm.

  “We can’t take the girls with us. Not where we’re going. They can’t survive on their own out here.”

  “I won’t kill him. But he’ll wish he was dead.”

  We pad quietly toward the tent, the sounds of sobbing louder as we approach, and we crouch low, keeping to the shadowed side of it.

  “That’s a good girl. Daddy will be done soon, and you can go back to sleep.” Rustling and grunting interrupt the girl’s sobs, and she cries out. “Now you keep it down. Or those big men are gonna have a turn with you, too. You don’t want that. They won’t treat you good like Daddy does. They’d tear a little thing like you in half.”

  Disgust burns in my chest, my hands balling to tight fists, and it takes every ounce of restraint not to tell Cadmus to rip his tongue out of his skull while he carries out his punishment.

  Without a cue, Cadmus stands up and makes his way to the front of the tent, not bothering to stay hidden. I can see his silhouette made by the light of the still-burning bonfire, but the panting breaths from inside the tent tell me Tessa’s father has no idea what’s coming for him.

  Tessa screams, and I see Cadmus’s shadow lunge forward.

  “What the hell are you doing?” The terror in the father’s voice, followed by a sharp grunt, brings me a sense of satisfaction as I push to my feet and round the tent, to find Cadmus dragging the naked man out by his foot. The blood on his face is where he clearly took the first hit of his punishment.

  There will be more. Plenty more.

  Across the camp, Cadmus drags his limp body over gravel and stones, until he disappears with the man over the hill.

  Once they’re out of sight, I step inside the tent to see Tessa sitting curled up in the corner, naked and trembling. Light from the fire outside highlights the tears in her eyes. Beside her, the toddler girl sucks her thumb, untroubled, as if she’s used to these violent awakenings.

  I lower to my knees and reach out a hand, but Tessa kicks herself away. “Are you okay?”

  “Th-th-that man. He t-t-took my daddy. He’s gonna k-k-kill him.”

  Her father’s scream echoes from somewhere beyond the hill, and Tessa whimpers, drawing her knees into her chest.

  “He won’t kill him. Cadmus is just … punishing him for what he did to you.”

  She doesn’t answer, but the tremble of her lips tells me she’s still afraid and doesn’t trust my words.

  “Does your daddy punish you sometimes? When you do something bad?”

  She gives a shaky nod, and the toddler beside her nods, too. “S-s-spanks us. Sometimes.”

  “Well, that’s what my friend is doing. He’s punishing him, so he’ll never hurt you again.”

  “He won’t k-k-kill him?”

  “He won’t kill him. I promise you.”

  I pray he doesn’t. As much as I wish I could rid the two of them of t
his man, I know they’d never make it out here on their own. From what I’ve personally come to know of the marauders roaming this desert, her father would be the lesser evil.

  More screams echo in the distance, and Tessa lifts her head, as if trying to determine whether they’re by punishment, or death.

  “He’s probably going to be in a lot of pain after, though. Can you take care of yourselves for a couple days?”

  She nods, releasing her legs, and when she flattens them, I can see her small budding breasts over a pregnant belly, bruised with what I imagine were pinches and smacks. I shift my attention toward the youngest, to keep from staring at what only goads my anger, and I feel a level of satisfaction like nothing else when I hear the man beg Cadmus to stop his torment.

  “Okay, I want you to get some clothes on. Your father will sleep by the fire. He won’t hurt you again. I promise.”

  Lips downturned, she lowers her gaze and sniffles. “Okay.”

  I reach for her again, and this time, she reaches back. With a smile, I give her hand a squeeze and exit the tent, closing the flap behind me.

  In the distance, I see a shadowy form come over the hill, and Tessa’s father moans as Cadmus drags him back into the camp. He brings him to a stop beside the fire, and drops his leg. The moment he steps aside, I’m taken aback by the sight of the man’s bloody groin where only a piece of mangled flesh remains in place of his penis.

  When Cadmus holds his blade over the flame, I slap a hand to my mouth and look away, knowing what comes next.

  The flap on the tent remains closed, thankfully, so the girls won’t be privy to it, but just in case, I step in front of it.

  Standing with a cigarette pressed between his lips, Cadmus lights his smoke with the orange-hot glow of the metal.

  Immediately after, screams crackle like thunder, as the man’s gurgled cry nearly drowns out the sound of sizzling flesh, where Cadmus cauterizes his severed organ. The toddler inside finally cries, and I hear Tessa say, “It’s okay, Hannah. It’s going to be okay. Shhh.”

  The cries die down to moaning, and Cadmus crosses the camp, nabbing one of the blankets hanging on the line. He returns to toss it over the man’s body, covering up his mutilation, while the man writhes and moans beneath, sobbing in agony.

  “He’ll live,” Cadmus says, and blows off the smoke from his cigarette, as he passes me on the way back toward the truck.

  Chapter 4

  Wren

  The tents have been reserved for women and children, but I insisted on sleeping beside Six, who volunteered himself to keep watch. However, since he refused to let me sleep in a cramped sleeping bag beside him, an arrangement that didn’t trouble me in the least, Tinker took it upon himself to construct a small, makeshift tent out of a shallow alcove of the nearby mountain. By tying thick branches to one of the weaved mats made by the elder women, we now have something of a door.

  From this slightly higher elevation, Six can see out across the camp, and we’re close enough to warn them of any dangers, like an oncoming horde of Ragers. We’ve passed a few thick cells of them during our travels, which tells me their numbers are on the rise again. As the first generation dies out, their spawn have begun to emerge in large pockets.

  I lie on the unzipped sleeping bag inside the cave that’s lit by a small fire Rigs was kind enough to start for me. The ache in my stomach hasn’t subsided, but there isn’t a sharpness to the pain for me to worry so much yet. For now, I lie on my back, rubbing my hand over the tiny bundle of cells that will soon be a miniature version of Six, or me.

  The door slides to the side, and Six ducks as he steps into the cave, looking massive inside the small quarters. Crossing his arms, he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side, then removes his boots, discarding them, as well. He unzips his pants and pushes them down his meaty thighs, until he’s completely naked. The sight of his scars, embedded into thick cords of muscle, isn’t something I’ll ever get used to seeing. It’ll always be a reminder to me, of the boy I found on the other side of the wall. The suffering he endured at the hands of monsters who would’ve taken joy in destroying him completely.

  My Six.

  He lies down beside me and drags me across our bed, until I’m as close as I can possibly be to him.

  Cozy and content, I stare off at the fire, and my mind takes me back months ago, to that night. It happens sometimes, when I’m alone with my thoughts for too long, and I have flashbacks of walking those halls, where Ragers and Alpha mutations fed on soldiers and lab personnel. Papa would’ve called it posttraumatic stress. He would’ve told me these thoughts were my head trying to process what happened, the night we escaped the hospital and sealed the doors behind us. But it’s not just my head, because I hear Six in his sleep, too. Tossing and turning, moaning and growling, calling out my name, as if the version in his head has an alternate ending. He wakes up in a sweat, trembling and tense, and those are the nights I have to be careful, since he’s not always lucid. Sometimes, his mind is still locked inside that hell, just like mine, and there’s a chance he might mistake me for an attacking mutation. It’d be the end of me, in that case, because Six wouldn’t hesitate to kill first.

  “Do you ever think about what would’ve happened, if we’d have been locked inside?” The mindless question tumbles past my lips, while I lie mesmerized by the flame.

  “Why are you asking me this now? You’ve not talked about it in weeks.”

  I shrug, drawing his hand beneath my cheek while I lie on my side. “I’m afraid to think about it. But maybe talking about it will help.”

  “We got out. We survived. That’s all you need to think about. Everyone locked inside that place is dead. And whatever isn’t dead, is better kept inside.”

  “I know. But sometimes I think … what if we hadn’t made it out in time? What if the doors had closed just before we reached it?” My thoughts drift back to the soldier begging us to wait. Screaming after us to hold the doors open, as if we could. As if we had the power to stop it, and when they finally sealed shut, I could hear his muffled cries on the other side.

  “I would’ve protected you as long as I could.”

  I can’t help the tears that spring to my eyes. I’d like to think it’s all hormonal, early pregnancy causing some kind of emotional imbalance in me, but I don’t think I’m quite far enough along for that, and this isn’t the first time I’ve pondered these questions. “I couldn’t have watched them tear you apart to protect me. I’d have wanted to die alongside you.” Of course, I know the mutations wouldn’t have been so accomodating and merciful as to allow the same quick death.

  “Hey.” Finger hooked beneath my chin, he tilts my head just enough to see his crystal blue eyes staring back at me. “Don’t do this to yourself. What happened that night was meant to be.”

  Lips pressed to a flat line, I nod. “We got a lot of them out.”

  “We did.”

  But I can’t bear to think of the others who were left behind. The ones we couldn’t rescue in time. Innocent women, children and men left at the mercy of those things. At the very least, the men and children would’ve escaped with a fairly quick death. The women would’ve likely been raped by the Alphas. Possibly the mutations, as well, though I don’t know much about them.

  “Kenny told me a girl escaped with three Alphas. Must’ve happened before they sealed it.”

  He doesn’t respond to that, but he doesn’t have to. We both know the potential for violence that thrives inside Six every moment. It doesn’t take explanation, or speculation, to know the girl is probably dead, or has been violated to the point of wishing she was.

  The only reason Six isn’t just as violent is due to years of self-control and distancing himself from those dark moments in his life. And still, it’s a conscious effort on his part, a battle between his mind and body that tears inside him every day.

  “I can’t even imagine what they’ve done to that girl,” I add, shaking my head.

 
“There might be goodness left in some of them. I like to think there was goodness left in my brother.”

  My heart aches at the memory of those few moments when he recognized his brother, Brenin, scarred and deformed by their vicious experiments, just before Albert killed him. I turn to face him, setting my hand against his cheek as I pull him to my lips. “There was. I saw it.”

  I swear Six carries the weight of the world in his eyes. How one could look so sad and determined at the same time is a testament to what he’s endured to survive.

  He rolls over top of me and buries his face in my throat, kissing me there. When his lips finally find mine, I’m ravenous for the taste of him on my tongue. My stomach tightens as waves of excitement pulse through me. The want he stirs inside of me with little effort. It’s like this every time I’m with the man, doesn’t matter that it was only the night before when we last made love. Every time he kisses me, I’m taken back to the nights when he snuck into my room, unbeknownst to Papa, and we kissed until the sun came up.

  The passion I feel with him is unparalleled, like twin flames coming together to form a single wildfire that will wipe out everything in its path. Destructive elements made for each other.

  Starting at my collarbone, he leaves a trail of kisses down my body, until he reaches my belly. Once there, he rests his palm against my mostly flat stomach and plants a much softer, delicate kiss, as if it were our baby’s cheek. There’s a fullness inside my chest at the sight of this big, scarred man, so anxious for the life he helped to create. The baby he cradles in my dreams with dark hair and crystal blue eyes. I imagine this tiny creature lying against his chest, protected by a father who will fight to his own death to ensure nothing, or no one, harms it.