“We meet them,” said Kaden. Each took a side of the doorframe. “Benny, what’s the guess on the number of combatants?”
Silence.
“Benny?”
Wretched time for technical difficulties. She barked, “Goose, get into the guard room. We need help.”
A grenade flew through the door and landed five feet away. Kaden kicked it toward the beds and was back at the doorframe by the time it exploded. Their half minute was up.
The first man appeared. She moved only her forearm to nick his artery, but three more took his place before he fell. The men were tightly packed, no longer giving easy opportunities. They’d overwhelm her and Joy with sheer numbers.
Joy’s quarterstaff thocked on the head of a second man as Kaden shoved the body of her victim into another. At least five men, in a variety of shapes, color, and sizes, had pushed into the room and worked to separate Kaden and Joy.
Every half second and every bit of energy had to be ruthless. A twirl away from a thrusting knife became an elbow to the nose of a different man. She stayed true to her own advice and refused to be a target—she rolled into the crowd toward Joy. Kaden had to get back to her, but they surrounded Joy.
Conscious thought dimmed as her instincts took over. Her body became a machine, with the sole purpose of devastation—her eyes spotted split-second opportunities and ears kept track of the surrounding crowd. Her knife became slippery with hot blood, forcing her to tighten her grip.
They would never catch her.
She drove a knife in someone’s gut as she stood. A kick to a kneecap mixed with a dodge of hands grasping for her, followed by another gashed throat. She ducked to avoid the swing of a fire axe, and buried her blade in the IT band of the attacker, an excruciating wound. She continued rolling, dodging, and zigzagging, refusing to set her feet in a single spot. The surroundings were ever-moving, full of enemies trying to adapt to her erratic, fluid movements.
She glanced at Joy to see hands grabbing for her, and a baton grazing the top of her head as she just ducked. Joy wasn’t made for this, not like Kaden. The baton shoved into Joy’s stomach, and she floored the perp with a kick.
Kaden had watched a split second too long. A blow to her back threw her forward, into the enormous hands of an enormous man. He lifted her by the neck and walked her three steps to the wall and slammed her into the uneven stone, forcing the remaining air from her. He had a crew cut and defined jaw, and his scarred lips curled in a snarl. His fingers were crushing her neck. The mob pushed in, howling unintelligible words.
Her legs hit his face, but without the force to matter. But in his eagerness to be the one to crush her, he had forgotten her weapon. Even though the knife felt heavier in her hand, she swung it into his forearm, but still he held her. She stabbed him again and ripped tendons, and he grit his teeth, but it made no difference. His other hand tightened and Kaden’s world darkened.
Sequential knives hit his back and neck. Kaden shot a look at her friend. They made eye contact for less than a second, just enough to convey that Joy was getting mentally and physically overwhelmed. She was losing. The man dropped Kaden and crumpled to the floor. Kaden shoved through the grayness, because stopping to catch her breath meant death. The crowd around Joy was too close for her to maneuver. Kaden needed to make her way to Joy, because that was Kaden’s promise.
Someone grabbed Kaden’s knife arm. She shouted, and her palm bludgeoned the arm away, and she stabbed his bicep in retaliation, but someone else grabbed her free arm. She moved to stab him too, but yet another person seized her knife arm. They were trying to capture her. She stomped sideways and felt a knee give, but the guy held on amid his scream. A handcuff went on her other hand. She kicked sideways again at his other leg. He let go of her knife arm, and she sliced his femoral artery in return.
Kaden rolled away from that scene, irritated about the stupid handcuff. She felt invincible, but still the men kept themselves between her and Joy. That seemed to be the tactic. She couldn’t reach Joy, couldn’t even see her anymore. The scene was pure chaos, but she had become more collected as the bodies piled up, the floor became slippery, and the enemies’ collective rage blazed.
A yell somehow rose over the chaos of the scene: “We got one!”
She cried out, losing her composure as she charged toward Joy. Joy rose into the air, arms and legs handcuffed. A large man lifted her onto his shoulder, and she kicked the face of someone behind her while screaming for Kaden. But Kaden was out of ammo, out of everything except the one knife. She stooped to yank the gun from a moaning man writhing on the ground, and someone stomped on her hand, and Kaden felt something crack. A sharp pain rocketed through her hand as she stabbed his calf with the other. She looked up, but Joy disappeared through the doorway. The fight breathed out of Kaden.
With Joy captured, the swarm would capture Kaden as well—she had to escape. Her palm smacked the nose of one last man, and she barreled through him to run to the back of the room, where the bookshelf and another exit lay.
She hopped on the cot and leapt with all her remaining might for the top of the bookshelf. As she grasped the top, she yelled with a ferocious delight. In an instant, she scrambled up and leapt toward the open door. The gunshots started too late to catch her. The bookshelf tipped into the thinned swarm, causing a cover for her escape into the expanse of the castle.
Jonas glanced behind him to make sure the captive was still following, even though the footsteps hadn't stopped. They made eye contact, which made his insides squirm.
The man said, "Aaron."
Jonas's breath caught in his throat, although truthfully, he didn't have the space to care that this guy knew his old name. The task was clear-cut: bring intruders to the indoor pool. He didn't need answers—he needed to prove himself.
"Aren't you curious how I know that?"
That didn't matter. Jonas twirled and stepped forward, bringing his gun to head level. The prisoner flinched and stilled. Stone-faced, Jonas continued the walk to the back of the castle.
The captive mumbled, "You're not at all like I imagined you."
Jonas stopped dead and turned. Although he disliked unnecessary violence, it seemed more necessary with every passing moment. Jonas glared with narrowed eyes and said, "I have permission to kill anyone at my discretion."
The captive closed his mouth and frowned oddly, both pulling in his chin and widening his lips. He met Jonas's gaze and said, "I know you're not a bad kid. Kaden adores you."
The guy hoped Jonas would melt at the mention of his sister. Change sides, become terrorists like them. He and Edward killed only to ensure freedom. True freedom, not the garbage that citizens accepted as freedom.
Jonas gripped the gun harder and clobbered his other cheek. Blood sprayed, and the prisoner grunted and staggered as he clutched his face. Jonas hadn't hit him hard enough to break anything, but the guy was bothering him like a persistent bee. Pain conveyed this message better than words.
"Next time it's the other end of the gun. Try me if you're feeling lucky."
Jonas walked faster. Since this guy was proving troublesome in unexpected ways, the sooner he was in the pool room, the better. Finally, the guy understood, or his wrecked face did, anyway. His soft footsteps followed Jonas.
Illuminated grass signaled that they neared the cavernous room with the indoor pool. After a few quiet moments, they reached the porch, which extended from a spa. Jonas stepped over the waist-high wall and glanced inside the pool room through the huge sliding window doors.
The scene was frantic. Because of its size and how it was brightly lit with minimal furnishings, Edward had chosen this space for everyone to gather. And gather they had, but no longer to celebrate. Many were missing.
Small groups of people talked in hushed tones, serious and eyeing one another. At first glance, Jonas assumed some attendees wore matching ugly shirts, until he realized the splatters were blood. Clearly Jonas had left the wrong ones alive in Boulder.
Two people forced into a chair a woman, who could be gorgeous under the blood coating her. Someone ran over with rope and began to bind her. His prisoner gasped and murmured, “No…”
"Friend of yours?" said Jonas. Instead of waiting for a response, he passed the hot tub toward the mayhem. The steam allowed Jonas one last pleasant breath of air. He braced himself and slid open the heavy door.
Like a cat startled from sleep, Edward snapped his head toward Jonas and walked over. Much of the room started to surround the newcomers, with bared teeth and far too many weapons.
As soon as Edward reached them, Jonas swallowed. Edward's expression was foreign—his eyes were wider, shoulders so tense they were next to his ears, and even his nostrils were flared. Yet, he tried to appear calm. Edward was frantic and desperate, and that scared Jonas, but he had a job to do. He waited for Edward to speak first.
"Who is this?" Edward barked, then smiled, showing too many teeth.
Jonas cleared his throat. "He was working on a laptop outside. He recognized her." Jonas nodded toward her, now tied, gagged, and shooting daggers from her eyes. Should he mention the odd connection to his sister? No, that wasn’t important now. Best not to bring her into this mess.
"That is excellent. Thank you." Edward said to Luke, his muscle man, "See that he's tied up. Put him next to the woman. And send someone to grab the laptop." Luke grabbed the prisoner and dragged him away by the arm, yelling to prepare another chair. The crowd followed, and Edward's shoulders lowered an inch.
Once everyone was out of earshot, Edward leaned into Jonas. His face was more relaxed, yet full of sorrow. "I hate to tell you this, Jonas, but the only invader left is your sister."
Jonas froze, absolutely horrified. Of all people, of the billions of people on this planet, why was Sub Rosa's most dangerous opposition his sister? His sister, who had become his mother when Rena refused. Had clues flown over his head? They’d only been apart a few years. What on earth had happened to her?
Jonas wanted to sit. The stuffiness in the overcrowded room must have gotten to him.
He didn't need coddling at a time like this. He inhaled sharply, coming back to the present. Edward had more to say, and he was waiting for Jonas to pull it together. His mentor needed him, so Jonas said, embarrassed that he'd paused, "Okay, my sister is a terrorist." A storm brewed within him, but he kept his expression and attention free of it.
"With her, it's more than terrorism. She may be mentally ill and in the middle of an episode. I think we can get her to stop, but I need your help to neutralize her."
Jonas raised an inquisitive eyebrow. That fit into this puzzle. Of course she was mentally ill.
Edward continued, "I don't want to waste her life, Jonas. We can help her. She thinks we're the enemy, that we are evil." He said "evil" like it was a ridiculous conclusion. Which of course it was, because who could hate freedom? Edward continued, "From everything you've told me about her, she won't ever harm you. Your relationship sounded solid, pure. However, she's killed over half of my guests. Our vendors. This will be the hardest task you've done, but I also know you won't disappoint me."
"Sure. What am I doing?"
"Find her. Get her to stop fighting, and Luke will neutralize her."
Edward put a hand on Jonas’s shoulder and squeezed. The gesture was a first and filled Jonas with confidence. The storm lessened.
Jonas left the heavy, tense atmosphere. At the threshold of the lounge beyond, he said to the empty air, "Kaden?"
No response. If only it were so easy. He examined the plush lounge with a fireplace roaring in the corner. He walked into the hall, boots echoing in the emptiness. She would refuse to hurt him, probably. He headed to the gold-flecked spiral staircase and placed a hand on the banister.
He paused and ran fingers through his wavy hair. When he knew her, she spent her energy surviving one day at a time, and helping him do the same. She'd been a wonderful sister and friend, the only part of his former life that had been challenging to leave behind.
So how would she be avoiding them?
He would search one floor at a time. "Kaden!" he yelled up the stairs. Without waiting for a response, he trudged across the room into a hall, then popped his head into the tiny and dark organ machine room. A decent place to hide. "Kaden?" he whispered, then shut the door.
Someone ran behind him. He twirled to find it was Jorge, Edward’s main contact with the Venezuelans. A huge splatter of blood stained his back and hair.
As Jonas continued wandering through the chilly castle, the blood on Jorge sat on the forefront of his mind. Everyone's tension was on display, and knowing his sister caused it felt surreal. Fear and anxiety over the implications of tonight rose from his chest and clutched his throat, vicelike.
He reached the garden, walking through the main entrance and past Jorge, who had replaced the original guards. Although Jonas had checked it minutes ago, he looked out into the darkness. "Kaden," he yelled, voice cracking. "It's me!" Vague, but only Edward knew his old name, or that his sister was causing this headache.
He spotted a shadow move in the back of the garden. He squinted, needing to see movement again, or even narrow down which shadow had moved.
A loud thump from behind startled him. He twirled and his body turned into ice. Even though he was at a party with murderers and drug lords, this hit too close to his heart: his once-dear sister stood atop Jorge and was ripping a long blade free from his neck. Blood poured from the wound, blood was all over Kaden's face and hands. She wore only black, but her clothing shone in such a way he was sure it covered her from head to toe. She fixated on him, eyes foreign and crazed. A demon had stolen his sister's body.
In a small voice, he pleaded, "Dammit Kaden, what have you done? You're getting yourself deeper by the second."
She sheathed her sword, shrugged with one shoulder, and said, “Not much.” She glanced away, but a hint of a smile appeared.
A part of his sister still lived in there. "Still a smartass, huh?" They had always enjoyed being silly, which bothered Rena, the general public, and even each other sometimes. They smiled at one another for a fleeting moment, so fast, he thought he'd imagined it.
Tears streaming cleared lines of blood from her cheeks. For now, she was the enemy. His sick, beautiful sister, coated in blood—no, coated in death—needed his help. He never realized how deep Rena had hurt her. She had been fantastic at hiding her pain.
Jonas flicked his eyes beyond her. Luke tiptoed toward her with a quarterstaff, and Jonas took a step forward as a protective instinct. Then he stepped back, tamping down every bit of him that screamed to protect his sister. To do so, he had to betray her this one time. Remembering all her sacrifices for him, he could give this one gift of tough love. His body shook from repressing his instincts.
Kaden gave him an entirely different look now, the one that came seconds before bawling. She took careful steps toward him. Luke was moments away. Suddenly, he was witnessing the betrayal from above his physical self, like he was floating.
"Stop." The words tumbled from him without thought. "I need to ask you something before you come closer. Do you—"
He stopped because Luke swung the quarterstaff back like a baseball bat. Jonas watched from above, detached from the anguish of his betrayal.
She stayed a perfect target, waiting for Jonas's question as the weapon smashed her near the base of her skull. She crumpled.
Jonas had tried very hard to keep his head straight for everyone involved in this mess. Edward wanted to help her. On cue, Edward appeared with a few others in tow. He walked to Jonas and hugged him, and said, "I'm so proud of you, Jonas." Jonas was still frozen in place and couldn't return the hug, although the unexpected squeeze brought him back into himself.
It was exactly what he needed to hear. He watched two men pick up a limp Kaden, still unable to move.
Edward stepped back and grasped Jonas by the shoulders. Since the danger was over, Edward's face had changed, but not int
o the person he admired. His usual awkward air had vanished to leave a hardness that unsettled Jonas, but he'd made his choice. He was Jonas now.
"I need you to do one more thing for me. Stay out here while I put some sense into her."
"No."
Edward blinked. Jonas had never protested a direct command from Edward, but he had to draw the line somewhere. Why on earth should he stay away while Edward dealt with his sister?
Edward softened into his normal self. "I know why you're apprehensive, but it's for everyone's good. This needs to be an objective meeting. I don't think she realized her slow transition into terrorism, few do, so I intend on feeding her the truth in a trickle, not a flood. I believe once she understands that our basic philosophy is freedom, she'll come with us. I'll bring her back to you. The two of you could work together. How does that sound?"
It sounded like he still looked at Jonas as a child, but that didn’t matter now. Maybe Edward was right, maybe she didn't understand that she opposed the guiding principles of the United States, and that Sub Rosa only wanted to uphold that.
Without another word, Jonas walked toward the steps and sat on them. He held his gun in his lap and looked at the serene, manicured garden. His stomach twisted, and he thought he might throw up. Guess he did belong away from the action.
Behind him, Edward whispered, "Thank you."
Edward's footsteps faded, then the garden was silent.
When the team needed it most, Cori projected calm, but it wasn't real. As soon as Benny disappeared into the forest, she triple-checked that the doors were locked. She had moved into the backseat to watch the monitor where Benny's laptop screen was cloned. Goose’s visual and audio allowed a peek into the action, although Kaden's progress was a mystery.
Unleashed (End of an Assassin Book 3) Page 14