Under His Guard (22 page)

G
oddamn Raine. If I hadn't already killed him, I'd have ripped his head off and chucked it into the streets of Omega. Leaking the location of the castle to the mob-hungry masses who could find out Leon was still alive. They wouldn't be too keen on letting a human time bomb walk among them.

Sprinting back to my pitiful Cruiser, I continued to grumble to myself. This was bad, very bad. Worse was the state of my vehicle. Thank God it started on the first try. The radiator hissed only a little, and the front fender only fell half off. Shame about the brakes still not working. I could just drive it into the ocean to get it to stop once I returned to the keep, except we'd need the piece of shit along with the other Cruiser to get clear of whatever was headed our way.

I just hoped I got there first.

With one hand, I pinged everyone at the castle from my D-P while I made my way there at breakneck speed. After giving my crew the heads-up, I pounded the gas. If I never saw another particle of sand, I'd give thanks to every god ever known to man.

If we got out of Omega and off of Aafricans without getting caught in the incoming onslaught, I'd make a goddamn shrine.

Stopping was even more fun this time. The seat belt grabbed at my torso. My hands braced against the dashboard. My knees locked in place as I jolted forward and then back. Such a bitch. I didn't bother cutting the engine. The others were already racing across the causeway.

Leon threw our rucksacks in the rear and leaped in beside me. He leaned across the console to kiss me hard and fast on the lips.

His whisper was throaty. “I love you.”

I gulped and nodded, then exhaled all the pent-up breath in my lungs. Those three words made everything worth it. I clenched his hand and held it against my heart.

“Raine's dead.”

He chewed on his lip for a moment as his eyelids lowered. “Okay.”

“I'm not sorry about this one.”

“If he'd done the same thing to you, I'd have fucked him up, too.”

I reached over to clasp the back of his head, bringing our foreheads together.

Cannon and Nathaniel hopped into the back. Darwin was last in with a curt, “Break it up, boyfriends. Airfield, pronto.”

She didn't have to tell me twice.

“Are you sure you're not Liz's long-lost sister?” Cannon asked her.

As the rest slid into the other vehicle—Sebastian, Farrow, Linc, and Liz—I backed up and revved the engine. I could already see bright headlights beaming at us from across the beach.

“This isn't gonna be pretty,” I warned.

And it wasn't. The chase back to the Corps Outpost and landing strip found us hurtling forward, swerving side to side. I kept a grip on Leon's leg and one on the steering wheel. The vast flat land was crisscrossed with bouncing lights from other vehicles, Linc's closest behind us. What I wouldn't give for a motherfucking reinforced tank stocked full of RPGs.

At the base, tarmac smoldered as our tires squealed across it. Ten more vehicles skidded behind us. Luckily, we didn't have to bribe, steal, or whore our way onto a plane. One lone Predator—sleek, black, monstrous—was prepped for liftoff, its rotors already turning because now we had allies.

I didn't give a shit if the Cruiser kept driving into the pitch-black night, but I slowed it enough through zigzag maneuvers so we could jump out without getting brained on the pavement.

Pulling Leon by the hand, I grabbed both our duffels and ran toward the underbelly of the beast. I looked behind long enough to watch the others drop and roll from their vehicle and haul ass in our direction.

Darwin shot back, “Watch your heads!”

Because decapitation by rotor would cap my night off just right.

I ducked Leon under my hand and shepherded him inside. The nine of us barely made it to the jump seats and controls before I felt the burst of the thrusters. Gunfire crackled outside. Taking off from the airfield in a transport made ready for our use was a heady feeling, but it wasn't enough to quell the topsy-turvy of my stomach rolling upside down.

“This is your flight sergeant. We want to welcome you to the unfriendly skies
—
”

Darwin squawked over the electronics. “Sebastian, I swear to fuck…”

“Feel sick?” Leon asked.

“Not from the flight.”

The crack of gunfire continued outside.

“In three, two, one…”

“Delta, here we come!”

I'm going to puke.

A minute later, airborne, Leon pulled a gnarly-looking root thing from his pocket and started peeling it with his knife. When he had a shaving between his fingers, he pushed it at my mouth.

“Here, chew on dis.”

“No.”

“C'mon. It'll settle your stomach. Just suck it for a second.”

I shook my head, trying not to smirk. “That's what you said last time.”

“And you liked it.”

I squirmed in my seat from immediate arousal overtaking the woozies in my belly. I listened to him hum and peered at him. He grinned, whittling another section away.

“Maybe I'll have to take you over my knee again.”

He blinked at me, his wide gold-toned irises shading into wicked darkness. “Maybe you will.”

I hummed. “And
you
liked it.”

“You'll like dis. It's ginger root.” He waved the sliver in front of me again.

“I'm not biting.” I glared at the fibrous white flesh.

Leon sat back with a huff. “You're really a stubborn bastard sometimes.”

“Yep. But you love me, so that's okay.” I opened my mouth, biting the skin of his fingertips when I took the slice of ginger inside.

Maybe it was the look of total satisfaction on his face as I savored the sharp flavor, or maybe it was the ginger working its magic, but I felt almost instantly better. Making Leon feel good swelled me with a new kind of pride, unlike any I'd ever felt before.

Later I heard a muffled one-sided conversation coming from Linc on his D-P. He plugged some coordinates into the mobile device and tucked it into his pocket.

“So you have another airfield lined up in Delta?” I commed Darwin in the cockpit.

“Not exactly.”

Not exactly was right. What a little prankster Darwin was. Our landing strip was an enclosed green space. We narrowly missed trees as we landed, and this time touchdown was so rocky my bones rattled in their joints.

Sebastian's voice came over the comms. “We hope you had a pleasant flight with Rebel Airways United. Please enjoy your stay in Delta T, where you can be sure to get your head fired at and maybe your ass stabbed, too. But not in a good way.”

The only things that stopped me from punching Sebastian's grinning face when he took off his helmet were (a) my legs were still too wobbly to move and (b) Darwin walloped him on the back of his head so his smug smile slipped right off his face.

“Where are we headed?” With night fully descended, we quickly changed into full blackout garb.

“It just so happens, Denver gave me Dr. Val's location.” Linc tapped his D-P.

“Fucking great. Did you miss the part when I said he was Raine's ex-lover? Raine, the backstabbing murderer who set us up? Raine, who Denver sent us to in the first place?” I wasn't moving out until I had damn good reason to. “How do we know this isn't a setup?”

“It's the only lead we've got.”

Where had I heard that before? Oh yeah, when we were led directly to an ambush in Omega.

“Not good enough.”

“Fine, Darke. You take point. We check out the location. If you think it's a bullshit mission, we pull out. We all know you can read people, right? Use it on Dr. Val to see if we're getting fucked over.” Liz settled the tension between her husband and me.

“Fucking dandy.” I motioned everyone to disembark from the Predator.

Out of the park, we moved in silent single file through the Territory streets. The InterNations slogo was everywhere—shining pristine and clean.
Regeneration, Veneration, Salvation
. Flags hung from all the streetlamps. The city was constructed of high buildings in old cold stone and narrow roads. After the colorful, almost festival atmosphere of Omega, Delta felt regimented, locked down.

Once upon a time, this land was a cultured city of theaters and shopping, palaces, and gardens. Home to royalty. Cutler was the new self-imposed InterNations aristocracy. Hopefully he was here, too.

As we approached Sector One, the home to every Territory's government seat, evidence of Delta's Corps influence picked up. We hastened toward Denver's coordinates, the roads more and more heavily occupied by a strong military presence. The tight buildings and low sky, the soldiers on patrol and the halogens lighting up every thoroughfare felt oppressive, almost suffocating. Apart from the park we'd landed in, there were no green spaces or trees, no night sounds from insects, birds, or animals. Just the stomp of boots on pavement and the damp mist of fog.

We climbed up a metal fire escape to avoid the heat in the streets. I led the way, and we came to an out-of-place tree-lined neighborhood of big, sprawling mansions. On the ground, we slipped from tree to tree, finally stopping at a corner across from a once-impressive private residence.

The dilapidated structure had a sloping tiled roof, turrets where stones were missing, and several boarded windows. A high iron fence seemed to be the only barrier until several guards converged at the gated entrance, exchanged words, and went about their patrol around the unkempt grounds.

It was too risky to let Liz shoot out the blazing halos shining down on the place. One whiff of interlopers and our fate would be sealed. I lifted a finger to my lips, raised my fist, and gestured forward as soon as the last guard cleared our sights. They were all swiftly taken out by three teams of two with knives and garrotes. We piled the bodies behind thick shrubbery before performing a final sweep of the perimeter.

Assured it was all clear, we climbed over the fencing and slunk toward the entry as one low-moving mass.

“Are we blowing this thing or what?” Cannon whispered as we gathered in the shadows of the colossal double front doors.

“Save the C-4. I got this.” Liz dipped a hand into her pack to find her lock-picking tools.

Leon tried the doorknob fashioned in the shape of a large lion's head. “It's open.”

I grabbed his arm, halting him before he stepped across the threshold.

“Think she's expecting us?” Darwin asked as she aimed her weapon inside.

“Didn't someone mention a setup earlier?”

That was me.
I pushed the door open. “Step lively and stay close.”

Inside the foyer, guns drawn, we tracked across the marble interior. A double staircase of dark wood covered in a bare-threaded runner climbed up three floors. Doors opened in rows to either side of us.

I waved my gun toward the first chamber, from which orange firelight glowed. We moved silently, filling the doorway to find Dr. Val perched on a dainty sofa.

“I've been waiting for you.” Her refined accent complemented the antique atmosphere of the manse.

A fire roared from an open hearth set within pink marble surrounds. The rug looked ancient, something made in a distant and long-lost FarAsian country. Paintings covered every square inch of richly papered walls. Only their tattered, curling edges showed the wear and tear of intervening decades.

Likewise, Val looked a little dog-eared, her upper-crust appearance wearing thin. Her elegant up-do allowed a clean shot to her carotid. Her fancy pastel blouse bared enough leeway for a knife through her breastbone. I gripped my gun in a tight hold while Leon, Liz, and all the others prickled beside me.

She laid a bound book down with all the care one would give a newborn child and straightened as if to rise.

“Don't. Fucking. Move,” I hashed out.

She stilled into a statue. “By all means.” She held her hands in front of her.

Stalking forward, I quickly searched and bound Val. She kept up the regal posture, but there was a cloudy haze surrounding her—some intangible sorrow I couldn't grasp.

“You must be Darke.”

“That's exactly who I am.”
Or death knocking on your door, if we want to be precise
.

“There's really no need for restraints.”

“There's really no need for you to speak unless you're asked a direct question,
unless
you want to talk to the barrel of my gun.” Black rage deafened me to all but the roar of blood through my veins. Every atrocity she'd committed against Leon flashed through my mind.

I felt a similar seething anger coming from Liz. A stabbing darkness. This was the woman who had helped create the first Plague, the one who was behind this new malignant manifestation. Dr. Val had scrubbed Liz's father's mind into a blank slate.

The bitch who'd infected Leon again, and again, and again. If I had to kill a woman tonight, so be it. If I could take her to the brink of death, do it over and over again, even better.

With at least twelve guns trained on her, she remained polished and poised, everything I hated about the CO's minions, but behind her wealthy elegance there was sadness. It blanketed her gray eyes. She wore a melancholy smile so small her bright white teeth were barely visible. Underneath all the sheen, she looked far too young to be complicit in such horrific deeds, capable of creating a monster of mass destruction.

I shook my head of sympathetic thoughts. They had no place here. I wanted the cure and Cutler, in that order.

Because Liz was equally incapable of doing anything but paralyzing her twitchy trigger finger, Linc walked forward. He hunkered down.

“You've hurt a lot of people. You understand you will die for that?”

“Yes.” She bravely met his gaze.

“We need information from you first.”