Crimson Lips [Amazon Warriors] (Siren Publishing Classic) (8 page)

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not running away from me after that.” Sloan demanded, stopping his search for the key.

“I’ve got to,” Crimson said in a serious tone as she pulled her wrists apart, breaking the headboard and handcuffs.

“How the hell…?” Her strength should have shocked him, but for some reason, it didn’t.

Someone burst into the room. He quickly covered his nakedness and spun to defend the entering threat

“You again?”

“Were you listening?” Crimson asked, speaking to the same woman who interrupted them in the alley.

“Sorry to interrupt, soldier boy, nice body by the way, and Crim, sue me, but it was hard not to when standing outside your door convincing several of the residents here not to knock the damn door down when they heard you scream.”

Crimson blushed as he filled with pride.

“They’re back and pissed,” the intruder stated before she ran back out.

“What? Who’s they? And why are they pissed? Is it the same guy as last time?” he questioned as he followed her lead and dressed.

“Leave it, Sloan. It doesn’t concern you. Stay here.” Making her way to the door, she turned and said, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Fuck that. Tell me what the fuck is happening. I can help.” He made to follow her, but she closed the door in his face and locked it.

“Bitch!” he whispered in shock.

Well, he hadn’t come in through the door, so he guessed he wouldn’t leave through it either.

As he headed to the window he came in through, picking up his knife on the way, he wondered how she recovered so quickly after the most amazing sex of his life. He still felt like he was flying, so climbing out a window probably wasn’t the best idea, but needs must.

He had to find Crimson and find out why she kept running from him.

When he hit the ground, he took off running toward the sound of shouting, grunts, and metal hitting metal.

When he rounded the corner, he felt like he’d stepped into
The Twilight Zone
. He couldn’t be seeing what he was seeing.

“What the hell?” he gasped in a whisper.

There were at least two dozen, seven-foot, muscle-bound, hairless creatures with small, pointed ears, dirty, grayish skin, and one freakin’ eye.

He clearly needed medication. Seriously.

The creatures carried swords or swung heavy chains above their heads.

Women, and some men, were fighting these beasts off with brute strength and skillful combat maneuvers. Some fought bare handed, and others were armed with knives, staffs, crossbows, bow and arrows, as well as chains of their own.

Was this a joke?

He was dumbstruck.

He snapped out of his stupor sharply when he spotted Crimson on the other side of the field, fighting one of the monsters from myth while another crept up behind her.

He didn’t think for another second about what was happening. He just ran as fast as he could.

As he closed the distance, he saw Crimson kick one creature in the gut, sending him flying backward until he hit a wall thirty meters away, sending up a cloud of dust. She turned and crouched down, flooring the other one with a sweeper kick.

Who was this woman?

He saw the beast that had hit the wall start to get up while Crimson was still dealing with the one by her feet.

He rushed to her side, seeing the look of surprise and anger across her face. Well, tough shit. He was staying.

“Deal with it,” he said before she could protest his presence.

“Asshole!”

“Bitch!”

He turned as the creature got to its feet. How the hell did he fight one of these things? Mythical legends weren’t covered in any part of marine training.

“Strong, slow, and stupid,” he heard Crimson call.

Okay, strong? Don’t let it hit or get its hands on him. Check. Slow and stupid? Outthink it, think tactics, and use its one eye against it. Check.

Sloan came up with a plan, pulled his knife from the waistband of his combats, and took a breath to steady his nerves. Then he ran full speed toward his enemy.

The beast ran at him hard and fast, closing the distance between them, quick.

It was now or never, and as the creature neared, he power-slid along the ground and through its long legs.

He turned quickly with his blade raised and sliced the back of both ankles with a single sweep. He cut the tendons, preventing the creature from moving its feet, and the thing sent up a pained cry.

It collapsed to the ground on its knees, and Sloan wasted no time in getting to his feet and plunging the blade into the beast’s eye from behind, blinding it, making it roar.

As it fell unconscious to the ground, he looked up to see Crimson plunging the creature’s own sword into its chest. He knew she was deadly, but this was different. She fought with grace and skill like she was born to do it.

Sloan wasn’t ashamed to admit this woman and her skills in a fight intimidated him.

When it was clear Crimson and the others of the estate had won the upper hand, the remaining creatures retreated over the perimeter walls and into the darkness.

He approached her, acting as calm as possible, as if he hadn’t just seen this woman kill a mythical creature right before him, and simply said, “Explain!”

* * * *

Crimson was amazed at how Sloan had handled himself. After that, he deserved to know what he was getting into.

“I will, but I need to finish things up here first.”

He squinted and looked her in the eyes, seeing if she was telling the truth.

After a moment of silence between them, he nodded in understanding as only another warrior would.

She turned to face the warriors of her tribe. “How many dead?”

The women looked around, counting the fallen, until she heard someone shout, “Three of theirs, none of ours.”

Crimson gave a quick nod, but before continuing, she heard Sloan say, “Two of theirs.”

She turned to look at him, and from behind she heard Delila say, “Look around, mortal. Can’t you count?” The warriors laughed.

Sloan looked down at her, raised an eyebrow, and mouthed
mortal
in question. To which she gave a small shrug in reply and mouthed back
later
.

He raised his gaze, apparently satisfied for now, to speak to the crowd that had gathered around. He just stood there and waited for the laughter to dwindle.

“She asked how many dead? There are three down, but only two dead.” He looked at her then said, “Mine’s debilitated and blind, but alive.”

She gave a small, appreciative smile, looking proudly at him before turning to her tribe, who had sobered from laughing at Sloan.

“Bury the dead, take the injured to the medical building, keep him secure, but tend his wounds, debrief in the great room in an hour.”

The women in the group went about filling her orders while the men cleaned up the mess left in the field. Two women carried the injured Cyclops to their small medical center, but several more followed in case the beast struggled.

Crimson turned to Sloan and asked, “You sure you want to know about all of this?”

“I’m sure I want to know all about you.” He was so sweet. She just hoped he didn’t regret saying that after he heard what she had to say.

* * * *

Delila was humiliated.

How dare the mortal man correct her, and in front of the other warriors no less.

She’d joined the fight, as her leg was almost healed thanks to the blood of the Gods running through her veins. All Amazons healed at an accelerated rate but could be killed in many of the same ways as humans.

The fact she’d come to the fight, injured and weakened, would prove to the others she had the spirit of a true warrior.

The mortal also caused her another problem. She thought having him around would prove to the tribe that Crimson wasn’t the best choice for their leader anymore, but after his performance in the battle, she heard whispers between other Amazons discussing the human’s skills during the fight. They were impressed by his ability to take down the Cyclops and leave it alive. Amazons respected a warrior, no matter what race, and with the new-age thinking that men were equal, it could lead the tribe to respect and potentially accept the mortal.

She couldn’t allow that.

One problem at a time, she told herself. The more immediate problem was the Cyclops in the medical center. She’d deal with him first.

She used her injury as a reason to be in the clinic.

She had to act quickly. She had to attend the debriefing due to start in half an hour.

When she was left to tend her own wound, she snuck into the room where the Cyclops was being kept.

It turned out she was thankful to the mortal for one thing at least. He’d blinded the beast, therefore keeping her identity a secret.

She approached with stealth so as not to alert it to her presence. When she was close enough that she started to wretch at the creature’s scent, she spoke in soft tones as she made a deal with the Cyclops.

* * * *

Crimson sat behind the desk in her office, looking over at Sloan’s waiting gaze.

There was no way to break the news gently. Very few mortals in the world knew about their community. They were creatures of legend to them.

So she just said what she had to say, no sugar-coating, just the truth then she would deal with Sloan’s reaction afterwards.

“All the myths and legends you’ve thought were stories? Most of them are true. We are a tribe of Amazon warriors and descendants from the Greek god of war, Ares. That means we have superior strength, speed, agility, combat skills, and weaponry. Over the generations, we have developed and changed along with the modern world, but the basic traits of an Amazon still exist. We are often fighting battles with creatures that hope to rule over mortals. The creatures you saw tonight were Cyclopes. We have not heard from them in centuries, but recently, they seem to think we are planning a war against them.”

Crimson paused to gauge his reaction. He just sat and stared at her, clearly not letting any of his emotions cross his face.

So, she plowed on.

“You’ve obviously noticed you were referred to as ‘mortal.’ That’s because we and many other creatures are immortal. Amazons don’t tend to live as long as others as, like I said before, we are a race of warriors and often die in battle.”

By this point he had stood and was pacing back and forth in front of her desk.

She sighed at his silence.

“Very few mortals know of our existence, so you understand that everything I’m telling you has to be kept secret.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” he said as if she’d insulted him.

“There’s no need to get snappy!” she snapped as she leaned forward.

“What? You just changed my entire view of the world. I think I can react however I want!”

She sat back. He had a point, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

She let him digest everything she said as he continued pacing.

A few minutes later, he spoke up. “I’ll admit, I don’t know much about myths and legends, but don’t Amazons hate men?”

Curiosity she could deal with. It was to be expected.

“When we were first created, men were seen as being weak and beneath us. We killed most but used some as slaves and to father the next generation. It’s how Amazons got the title of ‘killers of men.’”

“Is that what you’re doing with me? Using the weak, mortal male as a fuck toy?” He faced her with anger and a raised voice.

She stood, braced her hands on the desk in front of her, and glared at him with anger of her own.

“Don’t judge me by the actions of my ancestors. If I did the same to you, I would assume you were a race of racist, sexist, and homophobic pricks I wouldn’t risk my life to save on a regular basis. We may have been sexist toward men in the early days of our existence, but we have never been prejudice against anyone for the color of their skin or their sexual preference. You cannot say the same!” Crimson admonished in a menacing tone.

He had the decency to look embarrassed and ashamed.

Good.

“Like you, we have evolved. We accept, embrace, and cherish the Amazon males now, as they are rare among my kind. However, unlike you, we are a matriarchal society where women are the stronger, more dominant sex. We treat males equally and teach them the same skills we teach our women. However, they are not born with the strengths the women possess and rarely come to war with us. They often choose to live in mortal society, where they feel they can help mortals most. They are well respected for that choice. So don’t you dare judge me or my people.”

After her rant, she calmly sat back down, looked Sloan in the eye, and waited for his reply.

“I’m sorry. You’re right.”

Well, she didn’t expect that.