Dark Future (23 page)

Chapter Thirty

A
swift upper cut connected to the soft underside of my solar plexus. Air whooshed from my lungs. I doubled over in pain as Syon took hold of my shoulders and threw me over, head first. I rolled, but didn’t come up in time to prevent him from launching himself at me. Our roles were reversed, him on top now, knees pinning my arms, his flaccid junk splayed between my breasts.

For an old man, his strength was deceptive. His arms were sinewy with muscle, legs corded and hard. His long hair straggled past his shoulders and the ends brushed at my neck.

“I knew you’d come. He said you wouldn’t. But you did,” Syon said. It was hard to make out his features in the dim light, but I knew he was smiling.

I strained against his powerful thighs and tried to kick my legs high enough to reach his head with my booted feet. He was quick with the back of his hand, a powerful blow across my cheek. Not enough to break bone, but enough to remind me of who was in charge.

Pain painted my vision red. My head snapped to one side. I bit my lip and tasted blood. I stilled myself, lay limp. His ragged breathing was loud in the quiet of the camp. I felt his pulse as it rushed through the arteries in his inner thighs.

I knew how this would play out. Been here before. There were no more blank spaces. But fear is a funny thing. Because inside fear were kernels of something else—power.

Pain didn’t scare me, not anymore. I’d been schooled in agony.

I harvested the terror and pushed it through my veins, intoxicating me with its power.

My breathing slowed and I relaxed my fisted hands. My senses heightened to an almost supernatural acuity as my eyes adjusted to the dimness. I could see the woven fabric of the tent’s material, distinguish three different breathing patterns in the silence, feel the slow warm drop of Syon’s blood as it rolled off his face and landed in the hollow of my throat.

I straightened my head and smiled at him from behind hooded eyes. I licked my lips, as if preparing for a delicious meal. And with a deep growl that vibrated in my belly, I raised my head and sunk my teeth into the fleshy part of his thigh.

An animal screech sounded. Blows rained down on the back of my skull. Iron warmth filled my mouth, but I held on.

A well-placed punch to my jaw had me rolling to protect my face, but I wasted no time. I sprung to my feet, spit on the ground, and faced him. I was a wild thing, animalistic in my ferocity. I’d fight him to the death.

Today . . . today was a good day to die.

We circled each other like wild dogs. All that was missing was the yapping.

He bared his teeth. I laughed in his face. “Oh yeah, old man. It’s you and me. You’ve got no whips and chains to make you powerful. It’s all about who can take the most pain, and I’ve had the best teacher.”

Something darkened his eyes and it wasn’t triumph. I smelled fear. Yeah, I was that crazy.

He went for a quick jab to my face. I blocked, but he got a punch to my ribs. I hissed and came back with a smile.

He came after me and then we were locked in a battle of strength. My hands wrapped around his wrists as they loomed over me. My arms shook, every muscle straining to keep him at a distance. We were close, caught in a deadly dance, his bare feet inches from mine. My back slowly began to bend to his superior strength, pushing me to where he wanted me, on my knees. In a desperate move, my steel-toed boot crashed hard on his instep. A small pop. A small polow cry. His body bent forward, my fingers threaded through his hair, my knee swift to connect with his face.

Syon crumpled to the ground like a lifeless doll.

I stood gasping, shoulders hunched, arms limp in victory. My body was drunk on blood and hate. I shook. I was power.
End him NOW
.

In the distance, someone shouted. A light flared through the thin fabric at the entrance of the tent. My vision cleared.
ConRad
. My God, what was I doing?

I dropped to my knees beside ConRad and pushed the hair off his face. With a clinical eye I surveyed the damage. Hands tied behind his back, one arm bent at an odd angle. Chest smeared with blood and raised welts. His face was smashed in, the facial bones crushed beyond repair.

But his legs weren’t broken and that meant that he could walk.

And God knew we needed to run like hell.

I raised one of his eyelids. The white of his eye was shot with red, his pupil was heavy and rolled back into his head. “Move solider! Up on your feet.”

Nothing. I slapped the good side of his face.

More lanterns were lit. The camp was now engulfed with light. Through the ripped back of the tent, the dark shadows beckoned. Panic pumped through my body as Syon groaned, coming back to consciousness.

“Elder Syon, do you need assistance? Is everything alright?” A man called from the front of the tent.

We were out of time. I placed the heel of my palm on the indented part of ConRad’s rib cage and pushed.

“Get UP!” I hissed in his ear.

He moaned and rolled his head. I stood and kicked his booted feet. “On your feet. Move!”

“Elder Syon, I request an answer immediately.” I could hear him scratching at the door, as he fumbled for the inside tie.

I took hold of Cook hold nRad’s broken arm . . . and pulled.

ConRad screamed, but he was on his feet. I pushed back the ripped tent fabric and pulled him into a run, hell bent for the thick darkness of the forest. He stumbled once. I twisted his arm. He moaned, but pushed up into a run.

I looked to the sky and prayed for the delay of dawn. We’d have a better chance in the dark. Fickle divine intervention seemed to sway in our favor because ominous black clouds descended with a vengeance, blocking the stars and slowing the onset of daybreak.

It had to be enough.

Chapter Thirty-one

“C
ome on,” I panted, as ConRad fell for the umpteenth time. I had no idea where we were going, just knew we needed distance. We’d never make it back to the Sanctuary, and even if we did, they’d never take him in. Offering ConRad protection would bring the wrath of thousands upon their head. The Elders would declare an all-out war.

I stumbled to the ground, taking ConRad with me—and stayed. Despair weighed heavy on me like my veins pumped lead instead of blood. The adrenaline rush had ended. I knew the physical responses. Shaky limbs, chills, a queasy stomach, and foggy thinking. My body was simply replacing the epinephrine hormone with norepinephrine, helping my system establish a balance from the survival response of fight or flight to normal functions. Except, I’d never be normal again.

We couldn’t go any further. This had to be far enough—safe enough. I hoped.

I scooted my back against a tree trunk and gently laid ConRad’s head on my lap. He hadn’t said a word during our clumsy journey, just hissed and groaned at each fall and rise up. Absently, I stroked his head and listened to his labored breathing slow, and then turn into the rhythmic sound of sleep. Asleep or unconscious—regardless, it was a blessing.

Every urge screamed to flee, but I’d pushed ConRad as far as I could and besides, I had nowhere to go. I was lost. If there was a plan for me, then God had better show me because I’d run completely out of ideas.

My fingers played with the crusted hair along ConRad’s gashed scalp. With a skilled ear I listened for any change in his breathing. It’d slowed, but not in a good way. And if I blocked out all other sounds, I could hear a wet sucking sound wit0h each inhale. He had fluid in his lungs, an almost sure sign of internal injuries.

My tears wetted ConRad’s hair, my harsh sobs loud in the muted sounds of the forest. I wiped my nose on my shirt and took in the scent of sweat, rotting leaves, and blood. Why was I here? What was the reason for my coming? To watch my loved ones die? To be helpless and lost? I didn’t know what was worse, watching him die or knowing that if I was in a hospital I could’ve attempted to save his life. I bent my head over ConRad’s and rested my cheek on his chest, finding comfort in the continued beat of his heart.

T
he sound of rustling leaves woke me. My eyes opened to the lightening gray of predawn. My neck screamed in protest as I shifted from the odd angle I’d slept in. The crashing sound was getting louder. Someone was coming and not caring if they were heard.

I froze like a rabbit caught in the crosshairs of a rifle. Should I risk moving us or play possum and pray the quickly disappearing night was enough to cover us?

I glanced at the sky. The clouds had rolled on leaving open stars peeking through the leaves of the trees. I cursed the lack of forethought on my part not to find better cover. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but now . . . it was too late.

The crunching of footsteps drew closer. The metallic taste of fear sprung up in my mouth—a little too familiar.

“Kris? Kris is that you?”

Quinn. My breath flowed; I could swallow once again. Thank God. “Here, I need help. ConRad’s out cold, and I don’t think we should move him.”

“Let me see,” Quinn said. Then a soft click and a small flame appeared. The light grew as it touched a wick attached to a crude lantern. A soft glow encircled us and I glanced up and made out Quinn’s slight figure and a taller, sturdier one. From the protective stance as he hovered around Quinn, I could tell it was Zimm.

“How did you find us?” I’d never been so happy to see two people in all my life. Despite myself, hope bloomed in my chest. Quinn kneeled beside us, and then grinned at me. “I have my ways.”

Her smile was familiar. I’d seen it before when I’d gone on my “European tour,” courtesy of my father. He wanted me to soak up Old World culture. I did a lot of soaking up, but most of it German beer. In a more sober moment I did go visit the
Mona Lisa
, and though smaller than I’d imagined, her smile was mysterious and serene just like Quinn’s was.

“What? How?” I asked, but then I remembered Quinn’s clouded eyes and shut my mouth. Zimm stepped forward and placed his finger over his closed mouth indicating a need for silence. His brown eyes didn’t rest long on my face as they scanned the landscape, wary and alert for danger.

“He looks bad,” Quinn whispered. Her gaze accessed ConRad’s body, taking in the damage. I wasn’t sure how well she could see, the lighting was poor, but it didn’t stop me from noticing the graying around Quinn’s temple. Both Quinn and Zimm had a feral look about them, like they’d made the forest their home for a little too long. I turned my attention back toward ConRad.

“I don’t know if he’ll make it.” My voice hitched as my mind steeled itself for the possibility.

“But he’s alive?” she asked, seemingly hesitant for the answer.

I nodded. “For now.”

“Let me try.” Quinn kneeled at ConRad’s side and placed one hand on his forehead and the other over his heart and breathed deep. Her eyes fluttered close and a quiet humming sounded from between pressed lips. I watched as wrinkles receded from her face and her skin glowed with a white light.

I threw a questioning look at Zimm, but he just raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment and placed his finger to his lips, again assuring silence on my part.

I nodded, having no intention of breaking Quinn’s concentration. The dim yellow light from the lantern and the more powerful one from Quinn’s face revealed the miracle I’d never grow tired of seeing. Bruises faded, a broken arm snapped into place. Ribs cracked into alignment. Open cuts mended, then scabbed and flaked off, revealing pink new skin underneath. And ConRad’s face—my beautiful ConRad’s face—popped back out and un-disfigured before my eyes.

Twenty minutes passed as Quinn worked. Sometimes quietly, sometimes with a low hum. At one point her brow furrowed and sweat formed along her upper lip. Zimm came from behind and placed his hands on her shoulders as if giving her strength. The gesture seemed to help, calming her almost immediately.

Soon Quinn released ConRad’s head and scooted back. Her healing had worked, and now ConRad seemed to be sleeping peacefully instead of unconscious.

I stared at Quinn in amazement. “You’re a healer?”

“My powers have grown.” The
Mona Lisa
look was back, albeit more tired.

“How?”

“With lots of great sex,” Zimm answered. I could hear the smugness in his voice even in the dim lighting.

My mouth dropped. He couldn’t be serious. I shot Quinn a questioning glance.

“I prefer to call it making love, but I’m not discounting the benefits.” She smiled and raised her eyebrows.

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in days. “Are you saying that great sex has made you more powerful? Actually evoked your healing ability?”

“That’s what I attribute it to. I’m stronger after physical contact from Zimmion. I can feel his strength and tap into it when healing.”

Well, if that isn’t a case against “sensory deprivation,” I didn’t know what is. “Regardless, you need to rest.” I said, remembering the old lady’s weakened state after she had treated Zimm.

Quinn shook her head. “I’m good. He did have some internal injuries.” Her gaze flowed over ConRad’s still form. “You were right. He wouldn’t have made it.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “Thank you.”

This time a real smile broke across her face, and for a blinding second I could see exactly why Zimm risked his life to be with her. “Just helping The Prophesy out.”

I sighed. It all came back to The Prophesy. What had Quinn said back at the compound? Something about dragging the evil ones into the light and they would seek to kill her. Her or me? I thought of the murderous look on Syon’s face. Yeah, that part was true. But there was more.
A mighty warrior will be called upon to save her, and he will become an outlaw to her rescue.
I stroked a stray hair off of ConRad’s forehead. He could definitely be classified as a warrior, and now my heart hurt at the realization, an outlaw.
And a final sign will be given to all of you, so that you may know she is The One. A miraculous birth will be bestowed upon her. This sign will be hers and hers alone so that all may know she is The Chosen One.
I placed my hand protectively on my stomach. I took solace in the fact that The Prophesy spoke of an actual birth, because the last part sent chilled apprehension through my blood.
By means of her own body,her own she will save the world.

There was more at work here than just me. And regardless if I felt up to fulfilling The Prophesy or not, it was time to finish the damn thing once and for all.

Zimm sat down with his back to the tree and grabbed Quinn, snuggling her in his lap. “We should rest. We’ll stay here till full morning, then leave.”

I nodded, not really caring where we were going. I was just glad for the possibility of another day with ConRad, because, as much as I closed my eyes to it, something told me my days with him were numbered.

S
mall kisses to my neck woke me from a fitful sleep. I’d lain down next to ConRad before drifting off, determined to steal some of his body heat. He must’ve rolled over since his arm and leg were protectively thrown over my shoulder and hip. Something hard and solid nudged me from behind and began a slow sensual grind against my rear.

Oh, he had to be delusional.

My eyes were gritty from lack of sleep; dirt grew as an additional layer next to my skin and my latest bath seemed so long ago I think I’d become immune to my own body odor. And he really was poking my behind with intentions of doing it here, no more than two feet away from Quinn and Zimm. Typical male.

I turned to give him a small piece of my mind, but lost my momentum when I took in his dazzling blue eyes. A silly grin split my face. He was alive. In the deep of the night I’d thought I’d lost him and then to see him in the morning, looking at me like I was the best thing that ever happened to him, made my heart skip.

“Hi,” he said, as he bent and kissed the tip of my nose.

“Hi back,” I said, blinking my eyes, trying to clear my sudden watery vision.

“What happened?” he asked, stretching his arm overhead, testing the feel of his ribs.

I told ConRad the events that happened after he’d passed out and how we were found by our new traveling companions.

ConRad took the knowledge of Quinn’s new healing abilities in stride. He did mumble something along the lines of “about time,” but his welcome to Zimm was decidedly cooler. He actually growled in his direction. “Why’s he here?”

I stood as ConRad did and brushed the dried leaves from my backside. Quinn overheard—it was hard not to—and shot me a pleading glance to pacify ConRad. I rolled my eyes and held up my hand for patience. I knew the practice of sensory deprivation, so ingrained in this culture, would be hard to overcome, but we needed to get to safety before debating the issue.

“ConRad, please, they saved your life. Let’s go and we can discuss this later,” I said, tugging on his arm.

“
Quinn
saved my life. All he is—is a distraction.” ConRad stood and took a menacing step toward Zimm, and at the same time scowled at Quinn. “He put your life in danger by showing no regard for the laws that kept you safe. Now, because of him, you are hunted just like the rest of us.”

“He loves me, and we’re getting married.” Quinn shot back in the same defensive stance.

“Over my dead body! No goddess and soldier of mine are going to marry. With healing powers you have an obligation to society to focus, and you can’t do that by playing house on the run.”

Zimm stepped forward, teeth clenched, ready to charge. Quinn threw an arm across Zimm’s chest, telling him to back off. This was her fight—she’d handle ConRad.

“Well, I wished you’d have mentioned the death wish before, I could’ve arranged that last night.” Quinn’s voice rose with each passing word.

“Don’t push me, Quinn, because I’m still your guardian. I’ll drop you off at the Sanctuary so fast you’ll think time stood still,” he growled. ConRad and Quinn stood nose to nose, neither one ready to back down. Both of them mirroring each other, arms crossed, teeth bared.

“Enough,” I broke between the two. “We can discuss this at a later time when we’re safe, and when I’m sure the Elders aren’t chasing us. Zimm, lead the way. And ConRad, since you seem to be fit enough—carry the bags.” I lifted Quinn’s and Zimm’s bag and threw it at him. “March.”

Quinn had stormed off, and Zimm followed. When there was enough distance between us, I turned to ConRad. “What was that all about? They’ve both risked their lives to save you.”

Zimm had given him an extra shirt, a size too small and he pulled on the collar, irritated. “They’ll never be accepted. They’ll be ostracized and hunted by the Elders. Any offspring of theirs will be tainted. Nothing good can come from their spitting in the face of cohe face nvention.”

My heart broke for Quinn. “But things are changing. And you’ve broken with convention also. You would’ve never been allowed to marry, and yet we did.”