A cheer erupted from the stands. To avoid suspicion, Jack clapped along with everyone else.
“Please,” the man said through his mask, “you should be applauding yourselves. It is us together who will reclaim our homes. We must stand as one united front.”
The cheers continued until the speaker motioned them to quiet.
“I have lived in this city my entire life. I am a son of New Hope and I love it with all my heart. However, events have begun to unfold that would hinder our progress. Recently, our elected officials have chosen to expand our borders, not in conquest, but in a plan that would empty our banks and distribute our wealth.”
Angry shouts, crude gestures, and boos permeated the air.
“I know my friends, I feel the same way.” The man began to pound the podium, adding strength to his words. “The Order was founded to combat the decline of our city. We have worked diligently these last years to build our ranks. Our time will come very soon. A time when you will be asked to take a stand against the crown. Will you answer that call?”
The sound was deafening as hundreds of masked voices roared with consent.
“It makes my heart glad to hear it,” The Order’s leader boomed. “But before our meeting can continue, I’d like to draw your attention to a pair of special guests we have with us tonight.”
Jack’s heart caught in his throat. He couldn’t mean them. There was no way they were distinguishable from anyone else in the room.
Jack’s mouth went as dry as the desert Outland as the man in the golden mask pointed to Aareth and himself. All heads turned in their direction. It was like a nightmare as Jack swallowed hard and stared back into the dark eyes of his accusers.
Aareth was already on the move, grabbing Jack by the arm and rushing for the door that would lead them back into the hall.
“Stop them!” The shout reached Jack’s ears. “At all costs, they cannot be allowed to escape.”
Ranks upon ranks of Order members met them. They rose from their seats en masse, blocking the door. Jack ran beside Aareth into the army of ebony cloaks. With their weapons, they might have stood a chance. Outnumbered by a hundred to one was too much of a handicap to overcome. Jack knew this as he collided with the first line of Order members, but what choice did he have? If he was captured and killed, he would do so fighting every inch of the way.
To his credit, Aareth felt the same way. With more strength than any one man should possess, Aareth tore through the line of cloaked members. Bodies flew through the air as Aareth took the lead, more animal than man.
Jack’s approach had to be more methodical than the battering ram beside him. He sidestepped, batted fists away, and focused on knees and finishing blows.
Hope seemed to be within their grasp, mostly due to Aareth’s unnaturally lethal onslaught. Aareth was mowing down their enemies, while Jack followed close behind and protected his back.
Just as soon as the idea of escape became a viable option, it was ripped from their grasp. Aareth was beginning to tire. A group of Order members saw their chance and pounced on Aareth and Jack at once. There was nowhere to run; there were too many of them.
Jack felt blows land on his face and stomach, at the same time hands grabbed at his arms and legs. His helmet was ripped off of his face, as was the cloak. Half-conscious, he was dragged down to the floor in front of the podium.
Through a curtain of blood, Jack looked on as his hands were bound behind him with a thick cord of rope. Jack took steady, deep breaths. The first step was to regain awareness. His head was still buzzing from the blows he received. As soon as his vision cleared, he would look for an opening to use his magic. He’d only get one chance at it. As soon as they realized he could conjure magic without the use of a tool, they would kill him.
“That one,” the man in the gold mask said. “The big one. Yes. Secure him with a double steel chain. That should hold whatever he is.”
The metallic taste of blood was filling Jack’s mouth from a cut on his lip. He spit out the crimson liquid as he searched for the best course of action out of his current predicament.
Aareth was kneeling on the floor beside him, unconscious. Blood mixed with his long, black hair.
They were surrounded by what looked like the entire congregation of The Order. The man in the gold mask was looking down at them from behind his pulpit, shaking his head.
“Wake him up.” He pointed to Aareth. “I want him coherent for this.”
Aareth was shaken, then slapped across his face. A yearning woke deep inside Jack to protect his friend. Stronger was the urge to see both of them escape alive. Jack twisted his wrists against the ropes that bit deep into his skin. His hands were going numb from the lack of blood to his fingers. Still, Jack restrained his magic. His father would have been proud of him.
Marcus Walker had always reminded Jack to be patient, to examine every part of the scenario before making his move.
Another sadistic slap across Aareth’s face woke him from his unconscious state. Aareth’s blue eyes snapped open.
“Good, good.” The man in the golden mask actually sounded happy. Redirecting his attention to the flustered throng, he addressed The Order. “This is a perfect teaching opportunity. That, brothers and sisters, there are those who will seek to prevent us from saving our city. Whatever their reason for trying to dissuade us from our goal, it is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is that they would stand against us rather than with us. Most would simply slit their throats now and be done with them.”
The crowd roared its approval, hands clapping. Some even extended fists with their thumbs pointed to the ground as if the room were an ancient Roman coliseum.
“But we are not animals.” The man in the golden mask shook his head. “We are upstanding citizens of New Hope.”
The crowd hushed, mid-applause. Apparently they were under the impression they were acting in accordance with their leader’s wishes.
“We believe in the survival of the fittest, do we not?” The leader of The Order didn’t wait for a response. “Of course we do. As such, these spies will receive a fighting chance.”
A quick motion of the speaker’s hand brought two masked members standing in front of Aareth and Jack.
Still wearing their masks and cloaks, it was impossible to tell who they were. One was as large as Aareth. The other was slender. Despite her cloak and mask, Jack had seen this exact individual before. It was the same woman who had defeated them both in the alley after the attempt on the queen’s life.
Jack looked over to Aareth to see if he had also figured out who the woman was. Aareth’s face was pale. Through long, black strands of his hair and the blood that dripped into his eyes, his focus was on the woman alone.
“The rules are simple,” the man behind the pulpit went on. “If you two kill the two members of The Order, you are free to go.”
Jack and Aareth were roughly pulled to their feet, their bonds removed. Even some of their weapons were returned to them. Aareth’s bowie knife was dropped in front of him.
Hitting the hard-packed sand floor in front of Jack was the case of three throwing knives Aareth had tried to sneak in. Apparently, The Order wasn’t keen on offering a magician back his wand. Little did they know Jack was capable of using the magic without it.
“We don’t use firearms here,” the golden-masked man said. “It’s uncivilized.”
“We aren’t doing this,” Jack said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. Secretly, he hoped Aareth would have some kind of plan and take the lead. Another look at the inspector told Jack he was on his own for the time being. Aareth was still staring at the woman, squinting, trying to wrap his mind around the impossible.
“Yes, you are,” The Order’s leader answered. “Because if you choose not to defend yourselves, you will die where you stand. Let the contest begin!”
A cheer rose again from those seated around them. The man in the golden mask returned to his seat on the raised podium. The guards surroundi
ng the four combatants retreated past the flaming braziers.
Jack reached down and picked up the case of throwing knives.
Aareth made no move for the hilt of his own knife that rested at his feet. He was, however, whispering something over and over again: “Brenda? Brenda, how?”
Their two adversaries began circling them. From deep within the folds of her own ebony robe, the woman pulled out a blue mage sword from a harness on her back. The blade fought against the darkness, adding its unique color to the arena floor.
At once, lines were drawn inside Jack’s mind. He had seen that sword before. It was the weapon Commander Brookhaven had shown Sloan earlier that same day. Jack wished he had more time to think through all of the repercussions of this new development, but there was no time. While the woman circled toward Aareth, the large man moved to intercept Jack. Aareth’s attacker preferred to wait for an opening, but the man attacking Jack was more than willing to rush in.
“Well, hello, Jack. I was hoping we would run into each other again.” The man removed his helmet, showing a pale face with a long scar. “I still owe you a fair amount of pain for the train incident.”
Jack’s heart stopped in his chest. The man standing in front of him was the assassin leading the attack on the locomotive days before. The Scar, named so for the long mark across his face, smirked down at him. The same man code-named Night Walker who had undergone superhuman enhancements in the same cave laboratory where Elizabeth had been taken.
“The cave laboratory.” Jack removed the throwing knives, still waiting to reveal the magic at his disposal. “It was you who was experimented on. You were part of the Vampire Project from the beginning. Specimen R-10.”
“Well aren’t you a bright one.” The Scar smiled, showing off a set of pointed canines. A wet, pink tongue caressed his teeth. “Did you figure that out all by yourself?”
“We can help you. I don’t know what was done to you in that cave, but the queen—”
“Ohhhh…” The Scar laughed as confusion faded to understanding. “You think I was kidnapped or something? I volunteered for the program. And it worked. I’m stronger, faster, immune to pain, and the idea of blood really turns me on. I’m the perfect weapon now. I don’t need your help.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Aareth dodging sword strikes from his attacker while he tried pleading with her. The jeers and cheers from the seated mob were so loud, Jack couldn’t catch anything Aareth was saying, but Jack could make a guess he was trying to reason with the woman he was so sure was his dead wife.
As much as Jack wanted to help Aareth, he had his own problems. The superhuman assassin was advancing. Jack took in a deep breath, pushing his earlier defeat at the assassin’s hands from his mind.
Focus. You can beat him. He doesn’t feel pain, but that doesn’t mean he’s immortal. And he has no idea what you’re capable of.
“Don’t think I don’t know about your magic, boy. I’m just not worried about it. By the way, it’s a shame that crazy preacher’s wolf killed your dad.” The Scar sneered. “I wanted to test myself against the famous Outland magician. Wish I could have killed him myself.”
Without another word, the assassin charged.
Chapter Twenty
Sloan
“Are you sure that’s what you heard?” Sloan ran to her dresser, where her uniform sat in a crumpled pile. “Tell me everything.”
“That’s all there is to tell.” Elizabeth stood in Sloan’s doorway, tapping her chin in thought. “Jack and Aareth are off hunting down The Order by themselves. I searched Aareth’s mind and found out where they were going. Uhhh … are you really going to change right in front of me?”
“Why? Does it make you feel uncomfortable?” Sloan dropped her shorts and pulled on her uniform pants. “Feel free to look the other way if you want.”
“I’m not weirded out.” Elizabeth crossed her arms, but looked at the ceiling instead of Sloan. “I just thought you’d be more modest.”
“Yeah, well, growing up in the system followed by the army doesn’t really allow for modesty.” Sloan buttoned her black cloak. She buckled on her mage sword as she exited her room. “Let’s get you back to Abigail.”
Sloan closed the door to her room. Well aware of the escort that was supposed to follow Elizabeth without exception, she expected to see at least a pair of guards down the hall. There was no one in sight.
A horrible thought gripped Sloan’s stomach. As much as she hated to even think of the possibility, she had to know.
“Elizabeth, what did you do to the guards who are supposed to be following you?” Sloan knelt down to bring herself eye level with the young girl. “You didn’t—”
“No, I didn’t kill them.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “They’re safe, sleeping right outside my door. I just … encouraged them to sleep.”
“You ‘encouraged’ them, huh?” Sloan stood with a heavy sigh. She had read the report on Elizabeth done by Leah Noble. “You and I are going to have to have a long talk when I get back. I have nothing but the best intentions for you, but some things are just off-limits. I want you to read my mind so you know I’m telling the truth and that I mean business.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth looked into Sloan’s eyes while she read her mind. A sharp inhale escaped her lips. “You shouldn’t use language like that around me. I’m still a kid.”
“Thank you for warning me about Jack and Aareth.” Sloan was already moving down the hall. “Go back to your sister now.”
“But I can help.” Elizabeth’s voice followed Sloan down the hall.
“I know you can.” Sloan turned a corner, losing the small girl to sight. “But what’s going to happen tonight is no place for a kid.”
Sloan half-expected Elizabeth to chase her down, arguing with her why she should be allowed to go. When the girl didn’t, Sloan said a silent prayer of thanks. Quickly, Sloan traveled down the palace halls to where the officers were quartered. She rapped on the door of one of the few officers she knew could be trusted.
When no answer came from the other side, Sloan balled her hand into a fist and pounded on the door.
“What? What time is it? Did I miss revelry? I’m coming.” A bleary-eyed Lieutenant Baker opened the door, then snapped to attention when he saw who was visiting him. “Captain Sloan, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you.”
Lieutenant Baker was dressed in nothing but a short pair of boxer briefs decorated with pink unicorns.
“I need you to marshal the first regiment. Have them ready in twenty minutes, full riot gear.” Sloan looked the lieutenant up and down with a raised eyebrow before turning to walk away. “And for God’s sake, don’t ever let anyone see you in those shorts.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The lieutenant placed both hands over his crotch. His face visibly reddened. “I mean, yes to both orders.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Sloan
The cold caught her breath and formed puffs of steam. She stood in front of a full regiment of soldiers led by a now fully dressed Lieutenant Baker.
Besides knowing where Aareth and Jack had gone, her intelligence was painfully lacking. She wasn’t going to let these soldiers walk into a trap. They stood tired and shivering in front of her, but well trained and ready. As instructed, they wore the normal city uniform with full riot gear: armor, batons, shields, helmets etc.
“We’re going to the warehouse district.” Sloan walked up and down the line of soldiers, looking at as many of them in the eye as she could without stopping to pause. “There’s a group called The Order were going to be questioning. I don’t want this to turn into a front-page headline, but we have to be prepared for anything. I’ll go ahead to scout. You’ll follow Lieutenant Baker a few minutes behind me. Keep your eyes open and move quietly. Remember your training, look out for the soldier next to you, and everything will be fine.”
One of the many things Sloan had learned in the years of being an officer was that soldiers would perfo
rm better under the command of a determined leader. Sloan gave the group one last nod before trotting down the palace’s pavement.
Lost in her own thoughts, she jogged past the iron gates and out into the city. Her senses took in every detail of her surroundings despite her mind focusing on other things, like her last kiss.
It didn’t mean anything. Sloan held her sheathed sword in her left hand as she ran to prevent it from slapping against her thigh. He even broke it off.
Still, how long had it been since she’d been kissed? And although he did end the kiss sooner than Sloan would have liked, Aareth was going through something they still didn’t understand. Since his bite by the mutated wolf in Burrow Den and his run-in with the assassin who tried to kill the queen, he had been different.
Focus. Sloan pushed herself to a faster run, hoping the physical exertion would shake away the memories of the kiss that haunted her.
Both due to the hour and the weather, only a few New Hope citizens still walked the streets. Most didn’t even see her pass. She made no noise as her boots hit the pavement; her steps were quick and soft as she studied the surrounding area.
Her journey took her into one of the rougher parts of the city. It was one of the last pockets of New Hope not to be touched by the advance and change of the new era. Tall warehouses rusting from the inside out covered a square mile of the city. Most of these buildings were abandoned, a few still used for storage.
Sloan stopped two blocks from her destination, her ears picking up on something that rode on the cold wind. Cheering of some kind was coming from one of the largest warehouses on the block. For Sloan to be able to hear the applause and roars this far away, a large body of people had to be involved.
Sloan’s chest rose and fell under the labor of her run. She was so focused on the faint uproar, she nearly missed the punch aimed at her face. Just in time, Sloan sidestepped. She felt knuckles brush past her cheek in slow motion.
The Complete Vampire Project Series: (Books 1 - 5) Page 28