The Girl Who Dared to Fight

by Bella Forrest

  Because out of every goal that I was currently juggling, that was my biggest priority.

  I counted to five to give Rose enough time to get a few rungs down, then leapt in after her, my friends emblazoned upon my mind as a final destination. It should’ve felt like coming home, but all I could feel as I closed the hatch and started my descent was dread.

  26

  When Dylan opened the hatch leading into the Citadel, it was like she had opened the door into a realm of chaos. I could hear the muddled voices of men and women shouting back and forth, punctuated by the unmistakable sounds of weapons fire.

  Not just any weapons fire, either, but the zinging whir of lancers, one of the Class B weapons that were supposed to be on lockdown. Lancers were a projectile weapon that used a battery to superheat the ammunition, which loosely resembled a circular saw. My skin crawled even remembering what it was like to use one in our training classes, and I realized that someone—either the legacies or the Knights (or both)—had raided the armories.

  Not only that, the fighting had evidently reached the topmost level of the Citadel. Which meant the legacies were way beyond level 20 now. It meant they were closing in on my friends.

  “Dylan!” I shouted past Rose. “Report!”

  “Lancer fire,” she confirmed grimly. There was a pause, and then she added, “If we come out here, we’ll be right in the crossfire.”

  I cursed and looked back up the shaft. If we climbed up we could find a safer way in, but it would require finding a way around the sentinels up there, if they had broken in already. Either way was a gamble, but if there were two factions fighting down there, then it meant that one of them was on my side.

  “Liana?” Dylan called, her voice rife with concern as another volley of weapons fire was exchanged. “What do we do?”

  I blew out a deep breath and shook my head. I wasn’t sure I could gamble our lives in this way. Going up was the safer bet, but only if the sentinels weren’t waiting for us. If they were, we were dead. If we dropped into that hall and didn’t make it to the Knights on our side, then we were dead.

  But at least if we went down, we’d be closer to the others. Going up was taking a step back, and I’d taken enough of those today.

  “We go down,” I finally said. “Rose, we’re going to need to use you for some cover, girl. You okay with that?”

  “Of course. Dylan, do you think you can move past me, or will you have to go first?”

  There was a pause, and then Dylan’s heavy sigh carried over the sound of weapons fire below. “As much as I’d love to say that I could move past you, the answer is no. I’m a little too… ahem… busty for that.”

  I winced, not pleased with the answer. I didn’t like the idea of Dylan dropping out first without cover; it would be too easy for her to catch a lancer bolt meant for someone else. “Ideas?” I asked, knowing that the fighting in the hall below was either going to end soon or get worse while we were up here trying to figure out how to get out.

  Tell Dylan to fall down flat, Tony said. It improves her odds of avoiding any crossfire by 17 percent.

  Improves them to what? I asked, wanting to know what I was consigning her to before I suggested anything.

  Forty-three percent. If Rose drops out a second after her, it’ll be higher, but will also increase the odds of Rose accidently stepping on her, so…

  “Right,” I muttered, and then cleared my throat. “Dylan, Tony suggests falling flat to the floor. Rose will drop out a second after you, so fall perfectly straight, and don’t roll in any direction.”

  There was a pause, and I tried to look down past Rose to see what Dylan’s reaction was, but I couldn’t see anything beyond the sentinel’s bulky frame. “Yeah, all right,” Dylan said a second later, her voice shaky. “I can do that.”

  “Hell yeah, you can,” I called to her, trying to bolster her spirits. “You’re Dylan Chase. The true winner of the Tourney, even if you didn’t become Champion.”

  She chuckled. “Well, if I survive and you don’t, it’s not too late for me to change sides and try again.”

  I smiled at that, glad that she had found it in herself to trade quip for quip before stepping into a life-threatening situation, and then quickly put the emotion aside. “You good?”

  “I’m good,” she replied. “Going in three… two… one… Go!”

  I tensed, my hands tightening on the rungs I was clinging to. I wasn’t sure what I expected—I couldn’t see anything from this position—but as the lancer fire continued, I was relieved not to hear Dylan scream or cry out in pain.

  And then I was afraid because she hadn’t, and grew concerned that a bolt had caught her right in the head. I shivered, my stomach crawling, but as soon as Rose let go and fell, I was moving too, desperate to make sure I hadn’t gotten Dylan killed.

  I took a look down before my boot hit the final rung, and saw Dylan’s legs—moving, thank Scipio—between Rose’s spread ones. I kicked off from the ladder and dropped down behind Rose, landing in a low crouch. Sparks erupted overhead as a loud zzt ting shot overhead and then ricocheted off Rose’s torso. The lancer bolt was crimson and flat, but I knew from experience that there was a small circular saw inside, superheated so that it could cut through microfiber and inflict maximum damage.

  I dove to my belly as several more shots exploded into her, worried that one of the blades might bounce off Rose and right into Dylan or me, and began to crawl toward the wall, knowing it was the best place to be if we were going to use Rose as a shield. Dylan was already leading the way.

  Rose continued to stand in the hall, drawing fire from both sides until we were both pressed against the wall, and then moved over, creating a barrier between us and the fire. It wasn’t perfect—any shot that got into the gap between Rose and the wall would shred us—but it was better than nothing.

  I got shakily into a low squat and peered both ways down the hall. The walls were marred with long black scrapes where the lancers had sheared right through the metal that encased the hall, telling me the fight had been going on for a while. As I looked, I realized that one group of people had set up a barricade between the people on the other side of us and the elevator shafts that would lead to my quarters, and immediately knew who was on my side.

  “We gotta get over there!” I shouted, pointing to the left. “They’re on our side!”

  Dylan took a look, and then nodded. “Yeah, I agree. It looks like they’re keeping the others away from your quarters. Seems to me that’s something Knights loyal to you would do.”

  I ignored her barb. Was I pleased and impressed that some Knights were loyally defending me? Absolutely. But I was also angry and bitter that they were being forced to fight in the first place. Each death either side inflicted was only helping Sage torture Scipio and was an absolute waste.

  “Rose?”

  “Go!” she shouted. “I’ll cover you! Just make sure the Knights on your side don’t hit my hard drive!”

  “Roger!” I replied, eyeing the distance to the barricade. It was thirty feet, and while I believed that Rose would do her best to keep us covered, I had no doubt that a few of the Knights on the other side of the barricade would take shots at us before they realized we were on the same side. “Dylan, I’m going to lay some covering fire down in the hall,” I called. “When I do, you book it over there and shout whatever you think will work to get them to not fire at us.”

  Dylan gave me an incredulous laugh, and I could tell the madness of everything was hitting her now, too. “Why not?” she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of ruefulness and sarcasm. “This is just like what they trained us for in the Academy!”

  I laughed at that, unable to help myself. Maybe she and I were both going insane, but she was absolutely right. The Academy had trained us for a lot of things, but nothing like this. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m the bigger target,” I told her helpfully.

  Dylan gave me a look so filled with droll humor that I laughed again. I co
uldn’t help it. Here we were, surrounded by lancer fire, between two factions fighting for the heart of the Citadel, probably about to die. Sure, some people would be serious, but not me. And not Dylan.

  And all I could say was… thank Scipio. I needed a morale boost, and for some reason, laughing had steadied some of my nerves. I placed a hand on her shoulder, gave her a squeeze, and then pulled the rifle off my back, shouldered it, and sighted down the hall to where two halls intersected, where the enemy fire was coming from. A quick check of the charge told me that I had 60 percent battery left. I set the charge for the lowest yield available, not wanting to kill any of the Knights by accident, and discovered that the lowest setting was 1. I selected it, and then pulled it to my shoulder.

  “On my mark,” I called to Dylan and Rose, sighting down the top of the plasma rifle and curling a finger around the trigger. “Three… Two… One… MOVE!”

  I fired two shots down the hall, the bursts barely the same size as the lancer bolts, and hit the back wall on the left side, then stepped with Rose, keeping her in front of me for partial cover as I sighted on the other hall. A man in a Knights uniform was coming around the corner, one arm up, with the lancer strapped to the back of his hand. I squeezed the trigger a second before I recognized him, and instantly hated that I’d aimed for a few feet in front of him and not for him.

  Because if I had, then Salvatore Zale would be dead, and not spinning back around the corner shouting, “IT’S HER! GET HER! KILL HER NOW!”

  Rage erupted in me—not only at his words, but because this man had played a part in my mother’s death. He had made a deal with Sadie Monroe, who had agreed to help him win the Tourney, and that deal had resulted in Rose killing my mom. If I had just realized who he was a second sooner…

  A part of me wanted to stand here and wait for him to come around the corner again so I could shoot him right between his eyes and end his treachery once and for all. But common sense, or rather Dylan’s sharp, “Liana!” from behind me, had me moving, turning away and racing for the barricade behind which Dylan was already disappearing.

  Moments later, the hall erupted in lancer fire coming from Salvatore’s side, and I ducked my head down and poured on the speed, scrambling for the assortment of furniture that had been stacked up to form the barrier. I could’ve climbed it, but the gap at the top was wide enough, and the fire behind me insistent enough, that I spun up a lash end and threw it.

  I knew that I was giving my enemies a clear shot at me, but it wouldn’t be a prolonged one like they’d have if I tried to vault over the furniture. My lash end hit the ceiling right in front of the barricade, and I jammed the hand controls and let them jerk my body into the air. I lifted my legs to gain some speed (and to clear the furniture), and then disconnected the second my rump was past the tallest part. My landing was less than ideal—the whole thing had happened so quickly that I had been more concerned about being shot than hitting the ground—but I caught my balance and then turned to the barricade, where eight or nine Knights were firing at the charging enemy, ducking as lancer fire whizzed by overhead.

  “Don’t shoot the sentinel!” I ordered as I moved up on the line, the plasma rifle already prepped. “Rose!” I could see her dark form backing toward us, but it was also taking up the bulk of the hallway, keeping us from having clear line of sight. “GET DOWN!” I shouted, cranking up the power setting to 5 and aiming.

  Rose obediently fell to her stomach, and I unleashed three shots down the hall, aiming for the floor twenty feet down and creating a burning line of purple plasma with crimson flames springing up in front of the charging group of Knights, sending them back a few steps. The metal the plasma hit immediately began to melt and burn, and another few pops of the molten hot fluid forced them back a few more steps.

  The Knights on my side took advantage, and before I could tell them not to, they began to fire their lancers into the crowd. The first few bodies in the front began to drop, and the other Knights erupted in a panic. I heard Salvatore shouting, “Retreat!” and they immediately broke.

  “Hold your fire!” I ordered on my side, not willing to let my Knights fire into the backs of retreating men.

  To my surprise, the line stopped firing, with only a few shots being made by those who hadn’t heard the order, but they were quickly corrected by a nearby Knight. Relief poured through me when I realized we had chosen the right side, and I took a step back, lowering my weapon.

  My knees immediately felt weak, and I almost dropped right then and there, my exhaustion slamming into me like a heavy weight I was carrying in my bones. I managed to make it to a chair that hadn’t been shoved into the barricade before they gave out entirely, and ran a hand over my face, trying to wipe away the sudden lethargy that was overcoming me.

  It didn’t work. I leaned over and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to massage them into a wakeful state.

  “Liana?” a deep masculine voice above me said, and I froze, my spine stiffening in awareness.

  I took a deep breath and sat up, pulling my hands away from my eyes and opening them.

  Sure enough, my father was standing in front of me.

  I gaped at him for a second, and then leaned in the chair to look around him, for Dylan. I found her standing right behind him, a pleased smile on her face.

  I blinked at her, realizing she had no idea about the history between my father and me, and sighed, returning my gaze to him.

  “I think we chose the wrong side of the hall,” I said tiredly, certain that there was no way in hell my father would ever be fighting on my side.

  27

  “No, you didn’t,” said an elderly voice, and I leaned to the other side of the chair to see Astrid Felix, former Knight Commander and longtime family friend. She’d led the investigation into Ambrose’s death, and my mother’s, and while I hadn’t been able to trust her at the time, seeing her filled me with a small sense of relief, as I knew from the files I’d recovered from Sadie’s office that she hadn’t been involved with the legacies.

  But that didn’t explain why my father was here. Our relationship was beyond damaged; it had been obliterated after my mother died, with each of us blaming the other for her death. I blamed him for not listening to me like she had—and for turning against her when she did so—and he blamed me because, why not? I was the problem child, and had been my entire life, according to him. Even Alex, who had turned his back on our department, had been preferable to me in my father’s eyes, although Alex didn’t like him any more than I did.

  “Hey, Astrid,” I said with forced cheerfulness. “Good to see you! Quick question: What’s he doing here?”

  “Liana!” Dylan exclaimed, her tone appalled, and I gave her a sharp look filled with warning, telling her she in no way understood enough about my relationship with my father, before turning back to Astrid.

  The older woman was frowning at me, but I ignored it and got to my feet. “Sorry, I just find it a little hard to believe he’s actually on my side. What’s up, Dad? Salvatore send you to plant the dagger in my heart personally, or…”

  “Liana, stop it,” my father cut in sharply, looking down and away, his face contorting to something that looked like pain. Seeing it gave my anger pause, and I took a step away from him, disconcerted by what I was seeing. He looked damn near remorseful. I’d never seen an expression like that on his face, and it was so alien that it scared me for some reason.

  “What is this?” I asked, unable to help myself. “Why are you on my side?”

  He looked up at me, his dark eyes heavy with anger… that wasn’t directed at me. This was getting weirder and weirder by the second. “Astrid and I were meeting with Lieutenant Kellin to find out why Salvatore and his wife had been arrested, when the power went out. We were in the process of trying to figure out what was going on when Scipio sent his message. I knew Maddox’s loyalty to you extended far beyond her role as a Knight and Lieutenant, and started to arrest her—”

 
“You what?” I sputtered, suddenly furious that he’d even dared to try that. “You better not have hurt her, you rat bastard. If you did—”

  “He didn’t,” Astrid cut in, frustration roiling off of her.

  I knew she didn’t like the idea of us airing this particular family drama in front of the rest of the people in the hall, but I really didn’t care. I had no reason to trust my father’s intentions. I’d grown up with the man my entire life, and there wasn’t one single time when he’d put his faith in me. I found it very difficult to believe that he’d suddenly had a change of heart now, especially after he’d just admitted to trying to arrest Maddox.

  “Your Lieutenant exercised some very quick thinking and offered to let us see the evidence that you’d collected against Salvatore and Sadie. It was pretty convincing, if not deeply terrifying,” she continued. “When Knight Commanders Farmless and Brown were able to get the power back on, we learned of the breach in the cells and were able to quickly mobilize against them. But we didn’t account for Salvatore. His emergency codes were still active, and he managed to slip up a few more levels, collecting followers on the way and convincing them that if they killed you, Scipio would forgive them.”

  Her words were like a slap in the face, and disappointment and humiliation rolled through me. Even though I had anticipated there would be a schism in the Knights, a small part of me had hoped that there wouldn’t be. I didn’t want to be the reason the entire department devolved into murdering each other, but I was, and anticipation did nothing to soften the sting.

  Still, that didn’t do anything to help me understand my father’s role in all this. “Okay,” I said, giving Astrid a pointed look. “That still doesn’t explain why my father is—”

  “She started by showing us the messages between Salvatore and Sadie,” my father blurted out explosively, running a hand through the thick black crop of hair on his head, his mouth twisted with disgust and anger. “I had no idea, Liana. If I had known…”