The Sons of Satrina: A Sons of Satrina Novel (24 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four.

Jackson would have killed for a drink of water and greedily glugged down the glassful that was sat on the table in front of him when they reconvened in the conference room the next night.  Satiating his thirst meant that his mind was fully on the task ahead. 
He’d already had to go down to the donors to power up and make sure he was ready for whatever was thrown at him.

The night before had been gruelling and his body was still screaming for mercy from the work out that Master Warrior Verynai had put them through.  This morning, however, his mind was more than alert and he was ready to face this assignment head on.

Roman also sat in the conference room, looking ready and willing, with his notebook open and pen poised. 

Jackson and Roman didn’t roll in the same circles, but they had a mutual respect for one another and they both knew that this pairing would work well.  They had a common goal and were determined to achieve it to the best of their collective abilities.

And they damn well couldn’t wait to get out there. 

They had been scheduled to do some mock up operational strategies
in their academy research into warrior training and they had done a little so far, so as of yet, they didn’t have much idea what to expect.  This was more or less brand new to both Jackson and Roman, who sat in awe staring at Master Warrior Verynai as he began to pace around the room.

Grabbing the laptops that had been set in front of them, the two trainees got ready to make plenty of detailed notes that they would need for their essay that Warrior Kelton was expecting.  They really didn’t need the extra work load of an essay on top of everything else, but Jackson could understand why he had requested it.  By noting down the details, it would help to ensure that they knew what they were letting themselves in for out there.  Both trainees were typing furiously.

“Tomorrow night, we have been given the great pleasure of hitting one of the Mortuorum’s nests.”  Tomorrow night? Jackson thought they sure weren’t wasting any time on this.  He just hoped that he’d be ready for it.  Master Warrior Verynai carried on as if he hadn’t seen the look of shock on the trainee’s faces, “There are supposedly four of the parasites inhabiting the space, at least.  Their location and identities have been leaked to us as possible suspects in the assassination of our leader.  If there is anyone in the vicinity of the operation, they will either be subdued and brought in for questioning or eliminated, depending on the situation when we reach there.

“Roman, Jackson.  You two will shadow only.  There will be no combat.  No contact.  No conversation.  No dancing.  Zilch.  Nada.  You are there to observe an operation i
n action and detail it back to warrior of all badass, Kelton.”  He paused for a moment to check that everyone was clear, and once Jackson and Roman had nodded in confirmation, he paced back over to the desk to scatter paper in organised chaos.

“Here is where we’re heading, and here
is where we’ll go in,” Verynai pointed to a series of prints and maps and Jackson had to concentrate to keep up, taking down notes that he hoped he’d be able to decipher later.  “Normally, we wouldn’t deal with all this paper crap, but it is easier for you to be able to keep this for future reference.  I miss my iPad.” he joked solemnly.

This was all so new.  They had done nothing like this in class.  Up until now, everything had been combat based, working on their physical strength and technique.  Or researching into the past of the Sons, or the past actions of the Mortuorum.  Nothing like this.

Jackson was fascinated.  This felt right. 

He felt the warrior he was about to become.

Chapter Twenty-Five.

The night seemed to go on and on
and Jackson needed to clear his head.  There was no way that he was going to be able to sleep tonight with all the information and instructions that had been thrust at him still churning around his mind.  Weapons check list, official Sons of Satrina uniform to be pressed, essay to be written for Master Warrior Kelton, not to mention the nerves and excitement that were buzzing around the edges of his brain.  It was almost too much to contain.

Sitting on the bed, drumming his fingers on the edge of his desk, Jackson suddenly jumped up.  Sitting still was driving him CRAZY.  Music couldn’t distract him.  Reading was an impossibility.  He had to get out of there, shake some of this nervous energy off or he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep and he’d blow his chance at the field combat.

Walking out of his room, the halls were buzzing with trainees speaking to the few who had been selected, grilling them for information as to what they were to expect when they were lucky enough to get out there in the big, bad world.  Jackson didn’t want to hang around.  He knew that if he got chatting with the other guys, he would be in danger of exploding.  He also knew that there was no point in heading down to the gym to work off some of this nervous energy as the place would be packed.  He needed quiet.

Rounding the corner and heading out over toward the main reception area.  The only place Jackson could think of going was out to the gardens.  He was hoping that the place would be deserted, seeing as the night had grown more than a little chill with the threat of snow lingering in the air. Everyone seemed to be huddling up in the warmth indoors, so he was hoping to strike lucky.

Pushing through the heavy double glass doors, the icy air hit him like a thousand tiny needles stabbing at his exposed skin.  He crossed the grass quickly toward the gnarly old wooden bench and just as he was about to sit, Jackson saw movement out of the corner of his eye and swung around.

Aisline was stood with her back to him, staring out at the glitte
ring sky line.  Her dark hair wavered in the sight breeze.  Jackson could tell from the way her shoulders tensed that she knew she was being watched, but he couldn’t turn away from her.  Watching as she slowly turned to glance over her shoulder, her eyes shone when she spotted that it was him and she grinned, heading over to where he was stood awkwardly by the bench.

“Hey.” h
e said.

“W
hat are you doing out here?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“Just clearing my head.”

Aisline chuckled and looked back out over at the horizon, “I know what you mean.  It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

Crazy was just one of
the words he’d use to describe the situation right now.  Sure, that was hitting the nail on the head how he’d felt walking out here, but seeing Aisline had him feeling like someone had his heart in a vice grip and was squeezing the life out of him. 

He wasn’t concerned for himself.  He was concerned for her. He’d managed to force all thoughts of her to the back of his head while they had been in the field talks, but seeing her again now brought it all back in a rush.  Yeah, yeah, he knew she c
ould more than handle herself. After all, she’d planted him firmly on his ass on numerous occasions during training.  But. And, it was a bit But. This was real.  There was danger out there.  And, it wasn’t because she was a girl.  She’d proved that she was up to the task, and even better than some of the guys. 

It was because it was her.

Jackson tried to peal his eyes from her, and failed.  “Yeah, crazy.” he muttered, running a hand over his eyes.

Ash turned to look back at him and smile
d. Shit. That smile could kill him. She was so goddamn beautiful, and didn’t seem to know it which only made her all the more appealing. 

He’d tried so hard to keep things light,
to keep everything on an easy friendship level, but this latest turn in events was threatening to topple him.  How could he keep things casual when she was going out there, putting herself in danger?  Of course he knew that this would happen eventually, seeing as they were all training toward the same goal, but he thought he would have plenty of time to get his emotions and feeling under control by then.  This crush had crept up on him like a constrictor, tightening every time he saw her.

“Are you okay?”  She asked.  Jackson had just been stood there silently looking at her for several minutes and he looked a little sick.

“Huh?  Yeah.  Fine.”  Jackson shook his head, scrunching his eyes shut and moving away from her.  Moving his feet resolutely toward the bench, he sat down heavily and brushed a hand roughly through his short hair.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”  Suddenly, she was next to him, sitting down on the bench to the left of him, so close that her denim clad thigh brushed his.

He wished that she had just walked away.  Out of sight, out of mind.  Well, probably not, but at least her presence wouldn’t be a constant reminder.   Seeing her there, she looked vulnerable to him.  She was half his size for Christ’s sake.  They could snap her like a fucking twig.

“Hey, Jax
.  What is it?  Talk to me.”  She rested a hand on his arm, and he jumped like he’d received a high voltage electric shock.   Her eyes widened in shock.  What the hell was wrong with him?  She thought to herself.  “Jackson?”

Abruptly, he got up from the bench and stepped away from her.  How was he going to get out of this?  He was freaking out about her safety and he couldn’t hide it.  And he coul
dn’t exactly tell her, could he?  Jackson wished that he’d just stayed in his room now.  Coming out here had made everything that much worse.  How was he supposed to concentrate out there on the streets, when he knew that Ash was out there, too?

Especially when she wasn’t his to protect.

Why, when everything was going so great, did it now feel like it was all FUBAR?  Because he’d done the one thing he told himself not to - felt something more for her than friendship. He should have had the sense to keep things simple and see her only as a close friend. But, no. It was more. He couldn’t help it. He felt like slapping himself in the head.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Jackson?  What the hell’s going on with you?”  Aisline’s tone of voice had changed, from concerned to testy.  This wasn’t like him at all, and she didn’t like it one bit.  They were friends.  Hell, he was one of her best friends and he should have been able to talk to her about anything, so why was he turning away from her now?  “Are you worried about the go
ing out in the field?” she asked.

Jackson barked out a bitter laugh.  “No.” he growled.

“Well, what is it then?”

“Just leave it, okay?”

“No.  I won’t.  What the hell’s eating you?”  Ash got up to stand in front of him, forcing him to face her, which was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

“Please, Ash.”  His voice was barely a whisper.

“No. What’s going on?”

Jackson shook his head and looked down at the ground, anything to avoid looking into her eyes.  This was frigging ridiculous.  He’d had it all under control.  Why mess it all up now?

“Jackson?  What is it?  Is it the field?  You know you can do this.  You’ve got this.  You’ll be fine.”

“But, will you be?” h
e glanced up to look at her before standing, just as her face changed from sympathetic friend to enraged female Warrior.

“Are you shitting me?  You think I can’t handle it? What the hell, Jackson?”  She roared and abruptly pushed him away, causing him to stumble.

Oh.  Crap.  This was not going to plan.  Not that he’d had any sort of plan, but this definitely wouldn’t have been part of it if he’d had.

“I didn’t mean it like that-” he started to say, but Aisline cut him off.

“Like hell you didn’t.  You’re just like the rest of them, thinking that the little girl can’t handle it,” she said, each word laced with venom, “Well, think again.  I can do this, probably better than half the guys in there!” she ranted.

Jackson groaned, “Really not what I meant.”

Aisline glared daggers at him, “Well, what the hell did you mean then?”  She really hadn’t expected this sort of crap from Jackson.  Denver, maybe, but not Jackson.  She thought he was someone that she could count on.

“Ash…
” he started but couldn’t finish.  What was he supposed to say?  He couldn’t even get it straight in his own head. How was he supposed to articulate his thoughts to her?

“Jackson?” h
er voice was demanding, hands planted on her hips defiantly as she glared up at him. He could see the anger swirling in her eyes and suddenly he felt his shoulders relax as the tension left him.  He knew it wasn’t funny, but he had the sudden urge to laugh.  Any Mortuorum picking on this girl just because they thought she was a harmless little female was definitely be picking on the wrong one.  She’d hand them their balls on a platter before they could blink.

“Are you laughing at me?” s
he demanded, getting more furious by the second, “I don’t know what you think is so funny.  I’m not laughing here.”

Before
he even knew what he was doing, which was a good job because if he had planned this moment, he knew that he would have chickened out, he leant down, gently holding her face in his hands and brushed his lips across hers.  She made an unexpected sound, but she didn’t stop him.  Running a hand through her hair, he kissed her slowly, still unsure of his actions, but not unsure enough to stop.  Especially when she returned his kiss, snaking her hands around his hips, pulling him closer to her.

This was the best way he could explain to her what he meant.  Words just didn’t cut it.  Their bodies were locked together, limbs entwined, and he never wanted to let her go.  This was the thought that he tried to project to her as he kissed her deeply, walking her backwards until their bodies bumped into the solid brick wall.

The night was no longer chilled.  Snow may have started falling, but the heat between them made it feel like a summer’s night.  This was the moment they had both been waiting for. The moment they had both put off in the pursuit of their warrior dream. The moment they’d put off in the name of friendship. 

Running his hands up the side of her body, he deftly hitched her up and hooked her legs around his waist.  Holding the small of her back with one hand, he let the other roam over her warm, smooth skin.

Bending his head, Jackson let his lips roam down the valley of her neck.  Aisline moaned and gently bent her head back, letting her hair cascading loosely.  This was the act of ultimate trust between them - baring her neck to him.  Jackson didn’t take this act lightly and kissed her throat deeply.

Bringing her face back to his, Aisline felt a rush like never before.  Jackson.  It was unbelievable to think that they hadn’t done this before.  Every movement of their bodies were in sync, just like how you read about in those trashy romance novels.  But, there was nothing trashy or romantic about the heat that was radiating from the two of them.  Heat.  Hot.  Desperate.

That line had now been crossed.  Neither of them wanted to take it back. They were locked in the moment.  Jackson’s hand brushed her waist and Aisline moaned seductively.

Kissing him intensely, Aisline nipped at his lower lip, brushing the sensitive flesh with her elongated fangs, a drop of his blood falling to her tongue.

And, then reality hit Jackson like a tonne of bricks.  This wasn’t going to make things any better or easier.  This new connection would only confuse things further.  What the hell was he thinking? 

Pulling away from her and roughly setting her back on her feet, he held her at arm’s length and was unable to meet her eyes again.  “I can’t….” he muttered before turning and crashing through the glass doors, leaving Aisline staring after him totally dumbstruck, breathless and still wanting.

What the hell was all that about?  Why was he running?  Finally, they’d pushed through the friendship barrier and he ran before the going got good.  Aisline didn’t know what to feel but cold and alone. 

Jackson felt like his head was going to spontaneously combust from the pressure.  He shouldn’t have kissed her.  He shouldn’t have done half of what he had.  What the hell was he thinking?  It was all going to be so much worse now.  If she hadn’t responded, hadn’t kissed him back and pushed him away, it would have been better for him. 

Now, he felt more screwed than ever.