Nobody's Hero (13 page)

Like most buildings out west, the rooms were sparsely furnished. There were few trees this side of the Great Divide, so the heavy slabs of furniture must have been shipped west at great cost. A lot of the world's flora had died off during the Darkening, and what was left had mostly come from seeds that either lay dormant or were kept by the survivors.

Embroidered cushions hinted at Eden’s touch. Gauzy white curtains let soft light into the room, softening the stark walls and solid chairs. A fireplace was surrounded by a heap of chairs, and stairs at the back of the room ran up to the second level. Shelves nailed to the wall were covered in books, another rarity. From the look of the titles, Eden evidently had a taste for the lurid. They were old volumes, no doubt published pre-D.

A pair of heavy boots sat beside the largest chair in the room. It was practically a monstrosity, with a carved chessboard on the table between it and another chair. A bottle of whiskey rested beside it. Definitely McClain’s throne.

Lily dragged her up the stairs. “Come on!” she said urgently. “No food in the rooms! If anyone sees…”

Smiling at the subterfuge, Riley darted through the door into the room Lily had disappeared into. Lily shut it behind her with an emphatic slam, listening intently. Evidently hearing no sign of pursuit, she grinned up at Riley, her sandwich dangling from her fingers.

Arthur took his chance.

“No!” Lily yanked back, but the puppy’s sharp teeth tore most of the sandwich from her fingers. “Arthur, you’re not supposed to take food until I tell you to!” She snatched at a piece of cheese, but Arthur darted under the bed with his prize.

“Damn it,” Lily muttered.

“We can share.” Riley broke her sandwich in half and gave the girl the other piece.

Lily sighed. “He’s only hungry because the other dogs eat all the food first. It’s because he’s the runt.”

“You know a lot about dogs.” Riley took a bite of her sandwich, looking around. Whatever she personally thought of McClain, he’d done a good job in making the little girl feel at home. The narrow bed was painted white, with a pretty pink patchwork quilt, and a wardrobe in the corner was open to reveal a multitude of clothes. A shelf over the bed held a variety of dolls and toys.

Lily busied herself with the sandwich, tucking it between her teeth to keep her hands free as she swept a bunch of toys off the bed. Taking it out of her mouth, she gestured to the bed. “I spend a lot of time with them. The other kids are usually too busy.” One tanned shoulder shrugged, and she dragged herself up onto the bed.

Riley got a hint of what life might be like for her. Slightly lonely, hungry for attention... The way she’d latched on to Riley told her all she needed to know.

With a smile, she crossed to the window and peered out. The main house stood on top of the hill, surveying the entire settlement below. There were so many houses. Maybe more than two hundred, most of them made of white adobe. The occasional jeep traversed the streets. Beyond the wall, rust-colored mountains loomed in the distance. The Blaspheme Mountains. Her chest constricted.

Clearing her throat, she looked away. Her gaze cut across the shelf above the bed, and Riley froze.

“So, do you have a room?” Lily asked, her voice sounding distant. “Because I could ask Adam for you if you wanted me to. You could have a room here, in the house. I’m sure he’d let you. I heard him and Eden talking last night about a woman named Riley. He was angry about something, but Eden calmed him down.” A shy smile. “She told him to stop being stupid, and make a goddamned move. Before it was too late.”

Riley took a slow breath, her gaze returning to the shelf. There were hand-sewn dolls, a stuffed bear that looked frayed and worn, but behind them... A trio of hand-carved wooden dolls, their faces delicately featured, and the patterns on their dresses so achingly familiar that Riley suddenly didn’t know what to say.

Lily followed her gaze. “That’s Julie, Greta and Liberty,” she said. Standing on the bed, she plucked one of the dolls from the shelf and blew the dust off it. “This is Greta. She’s my favorite. My father made them for me – my real father, not Step-daddy Greg. Mama said he used to make them just for me, before he died.”

Riley reached out and stroked the doll’s face. Her heart was pounding in her chest. It couldn’t be. The coincidence was just too large. Or maybe it wasn’t. Why else would McClain take in a little girl who had nobody else? Guilt was a harsh motivator.

“She’s pretty,” Riley said softly. “My daddy used to make toys for me too. I guess he must have loved you a lot.”

Lily shrugged, but her fingers trailed wistfully over the doll’s dress. “He was a hero. He used to hunt the wargs out near our settlement, and keep us safe. But they got him one day.” Her pretty features tightened. “I hate them. I wish they were all dead. Adam’s going to kill that one they brought in the other day. He won’t let me watch, but I know a place I can see from. They always execute them in the Main Square, and I can climb up onto the roof.”

Riley knelt down, horrified at the vindictiveness that filled the girl’s voice. She wasn’t certain – a lot of men knew how to carve, after all – but the patterns were almost identical. Taking the doll from Lily, she turned it over in her hands, feeling the fine tracery of its lines. “My daddy got taken by wargs.” Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I used to hate them too.”

Lily looked up. “You don’t hate them anymore?”

“I killed the one that clawed him.” She shivered at the memory. Her first-ever kill. She’d felt so righteous, so full of anger and fury that it had been almost too easy to pull the trigger. It was only afterward that tears blurred her gaze, and her stomach heaved. She’d thought she’d feel better if she finally killed it, but the truth was harder to take. It didn’t feel better. Her father was still gone.

“But I don’t... I don’t know what to feel anymore,” Riley admitted. “I’ve started thinking lately about what it would feel like to be like my dad. Knowing that you were going to hurt your family, your friends, knowing that when the monster had you in its grips at night, all you’d think about would be the killing. In the end, he was still a man. Maybe I feel a little sorry for them.”

“I don’t,” Lily said emphatically. Tears glimmered in her eyes. So blue. So breathtaking. Eyes that Riley could suddenly see in another’s face.

Another fist to the chest. She’d tried to tell herself that this couldn’t be real, but the truth was staring right at her.

“What was your daddy’s name?” Riley asked softly.

“Luc,” Lily replied. “His name was Luc.”

Riley’s knees folded and she knelt on the bed, still clutching the doll like a lifeline. He didn’t know.
I walked away from my wife. From everything that mattered to me
.... He’d been talking about Lily then, and the baby his wife was carrying. The baby that had died.

Walked away and never looked back. For their sakes. No doubt he still thought his wife lived. Riley’s grip tightened on the doll. That would be another blow.

“Are you okay?” Lily asked, patting her knee.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, looking down. She had to stop this. Somehow, she had to find a way out of this mess for him. Trying to force a smile onto her lips – and failing – she asked, “Do you think I could borrow Greta for a little bit? Just to keep me company at night?”

Lily nodded with those solemn, very-blue eyes. “I’m too old for her now, but sometimes she... she looks after me at night too.” Then she patted Riley on the shoulder and leaned back on the bed.

T
HERE WAS
NO point going to McClain.

Riley headed straight for the infirmary.

The afternoon sun was starting to ease up. Instead of broiling, it was now only baking the desert air. Sweat rimmed her temples, the air thick and hard to breathe. By the time she reached the infirmary, perspiration dripped down her spine and hugged her breasts.

She knocked sharply. “Eden? Eden, let me in.”

A few scuffling footsteps, and then the door opened. Eden peered out, her body shielding the interior of the room, as though she didn’t intend to let Riley past. “Riley,” she murmured. “I’m sorry, but I’m busy.”

“We need to talk.” Riley rested her hand on the door and gave her friend a serious look.

Heat flushed through Eden’s cheeks. “There’s no point. Adam gave me his orders. You’re not to visit Wade.”

“Is he okay?” she asked.

At least Eden gave her that. “Awake and breathing,” she replied with a sigh. “And not speaking to anyone.”

“That could be a blessing,” she muttered, looking around. “Eden, please. I need to discuss something with you.”

The door gave beneath her fingers slightly, and Riley pushed her advantage. “Please?”

“Fine.” Eden sucked in a sharp breath. “You have ten minutes. I’ve got to get down and see Mary Clemmons. She’s nearly due to have her baby.” Stabbing a finger toward Riley, she added, “And I’ll warn you not to waste your breath. I’m not letting you in to see him.”

“Thanks.” She smiled as the door opened and Eden backed off. “I don’t want to see him anyway.”

The lie rolled off her lips easily, but Eden sighed and dragged her chair out. The bed he’d lain on was once again made, the sheets pristine. No sign of him left in the room.

Eden picked up a pen and jotted a note on a piece of paper. “What did you want to see me about?”

Riley could have argued, could have begged the other woman to have mercy. Instead, she reached inside her bag and dragged out Greta. “This,” she said, resting her on top of the paper Eden was writing on.

Those green eyes locked on the doll as if Riley had threatened her. “A doll? That’s my niece Lily’s, isn’t it?”

“Your niece?”

Eden looked her in the eye. And lied. “Adam adopted her three years ago. You’d know that if you’d bothered to talk to him.”

“We never got past the egos-butting-heads stage,” Riley admitted. “And I’ll be generous enough to include myself in that too.”

“She’s a good child, but she keeps to herself. I’ve tried to—”

“Eden.” Reaching inside the bag, Riley drew out the second carving. The one Wade had done in the cave. “She said her father carved Greta. And two nights ago, I watched Wade carve this.” Plonking it down beside the first, she asked softly, “Tell me the same hand didn’t carve them both? Tell me its coincidence that her father’s name is Luc, and we just happen to have a warg called Lucius in the cage?”

Eden’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, he’s her father.” She bit her lip. “Adam doesn’t know what to do either. We never expected this. Adam always used to keep an eye on Abbie and Lily. Making sure they had enough to make do. He never met them – they liked to keep their home lives separate, he and Luc – but he had a man there who used to radio him occasionally if they needed help.”

Riley let out the breath she’d been holding. “So Abbie’s dead?”

“Three years ago, the reivers took the town. Adam barely got the radio message before his contact was killed. He rode there with a war party, and they found the town still smoking. Most settlements have places to hide, just in case the reivers attack. Lily was trapped in one of them.”

“Adam sniffed her out?”

Eden nodded. “They’d killed the men, and half the women. The ones they can’t sell down south at the slave markets. Adam found a dead woman in the home Abbie owned. The corpse was so badly burned he couldn’t tell if it was Abbie, but when they finally tracked the reivers down, she wasn’t among the slaves there.”

“Shit.” Riley kicked back in her chair. “And Wade doesn’t know.” She shook her head slowly. “You know what McClain will do in the end. The whole settlement’s pushing for it.”

“It’s what we do to wargs.”
“Not all of them,” Riley countered.

Eden’s glance dropped.

“So, how do you tell Lily that you just executed her father?”

“We don’t.” Eden pushed to her feet and paced the room. “You’re the only one who knows. You, me, and Adam. So if you don’t tell her, she’ll never know.”

Son of a bitch. Riley ground the heels of her palms against her eyes. “This is a nightmare. You can’t let him die, Eden. He’s her father.”

“And if he lives?” Eden snapped. “He won’t stop, Riley. He’ll keep coming and coming until Adam is dead. I won’t risk my brother.”

“Not even for Lily?”

“She buried her father years ago. He’s a myth to her. A legend. Don’t bring up the past and you won’t hurt her.”

That rankled all the way to the bone. If Riley had had a chance – any chance – to bring her father home, she would have. To find out that someone had kept him from her... Eden was only trying to do what was right, but she didn’t know what it was like to lose her father to the wargs.

Dumping the bag on the desk, she picked up the pair of carved dolls and settled them inside. A glint of silver caught her eye from one of the pigeonholes. Keys.

Lily had even told her where they were.

Her heart leapt into her throat. Eden kept pacing, her shoulders tight and defensive. Surely the other woman had to notice her distress, but Eden was too wrapped in her own problems, arguing with herself about the ethics of the situation.

Riley edged around the desk and sat on it, her fingers drumming against the edge. “She wants to watch his execution, Eden. She hates the wargs for what she thinks they did to her father.”

Eden shot a look of horror at her. “Adam won’t let her.”

“She knows where she can see without being seen. She told me.”

Raking her brown hair out of her eyes, Eden turned and stared out the window. “I’ll... I’ll make sure she doesn’t see.”

Riley slid her hand into the pigeonhole, her fingers sliding over cool metal. Her heart raced in her chest and she froze, almost
knowing
that Eden would turn and catch her in the act.

The smooth metal keys slid across the timber, and she stiffened. Eden’s head drooped, and Riley closed her hand around them slowly so they wouldn’t clink.

Come on. Come on
.

She slowly drew her hand out, the ring of keys fisted in her palm. Each second felt like a year. Turning, she grabbed her bag, using her body to shield her hand as she slid the keys inside.

“I’m sorry, Riley. I’ll do what I can.” Finally, the other woman looked around and Riley nodded, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“I just wish there was some other way,” Riley murmured.

“So do I.”

T
he door slammed open
.

Lucius slowly opened his eyes, his legs folded and his hands resting on his knees. His chest still hurt like a son of a bitch, but the wounds had closed over, leaving nothing but the pale slickness of a new scar. It was inside that he wasn’t sure had healed completely. It hurt to cough, and his lungs felt like they’d shrunk a few inches.

“Well,” he drawled, his gaze lighting over McClain. “And here I was hoping to see the pretty face of your sweet little sister again.”

He almost glanced over McClain’s shoulder, but there was no one there. Not that he’d expected to see anyone else. They’d shoved him in the cage that morning, and apparently everyone had forgotten about him. So much for curious blondes.

“Not quite as sweet.” McClain’s teeth showed. It wasn’t a smile.

Lucius eyed him. “True. She’s all grown up, McClain. Tits and all.”

McClain didn’t take the bait. Instead, he paused in front of the cage, hands on his denim-clad hips, the black felt of his hat hauled down low over his eyes.

“Hiding something?” Lucius smiled. “If they only knew what they had in their midst….”

“Does it have to be this way?” McClain asked abruptly. “You’re not going to goad me into getting close enough. You might as well talk to me.”

“I’m not very interested in anything you have to say.” Slowly, Lucius closed his eyes.

“Not even if it’s got to do with a certain troublesome blonde?”

Lucius forced his body to relax. Taking a deep breath, he let it expand his lungs slowly. “No. I got what I wanted from her.”

Let McClain make of that what he willed. He’d have been able to smell Luc’s scent all over Riley when he rescued her, and seen the signs: the tang of sex, the graze of stubble that had left its mark on her dusky skin. She might want it to be their dirty little secret, but she hadn’t counted on McClain’s superior senses.

“Did you?” Instead of anger, the words were soft. Curious.

Lucius’s lashes opened; he couldn’t read the intent behind McClain’s words. And they pricked at him, as McClain had no doubt intended.

“You want me to describe what she was like?” Lucius mocked, sitting forward until his nose almost touched the silver-coated bars. His fists curled around them, the stink of burning flesh making his nostrils flinch. “How sweet she tasted? The noises she made?”

A flicker in those icy green eyes. He’d scored a hit, and the thought made him smile.

“I keep looking for something human inside you,” McClain said, staring at him long and hard. “But its not there. You’ve changed. You’re not the man I knew.”

“That man died. Got stabbed in the back by someone who was ‘s’posed to be watching it.” He smiled and went for blood. “So you watch
your
back now, McClain. And you make sure you sleep with one eye open....” He opened his hands, showed the silver burn along the inside of his palms. Most wargs couldn’t handle the feel of it, but he’d spent years in cages, slowly forcing himself to push past the pain. Not all of his warg life had been spent freely, and when the enforcers wanted to study you.... “This cage won’t hold me for long.”

McClain nodded slowly, before taking a step back. Not out of fear. Instead, a hard implacability filled his face. “So be it. I’m sorry it had to come to this, Luc.”

Lucius watched him hungrily. “I’m not. I’ve been waiting for this moment for years, to come face to face with you again.”

“And what about the settlement? These people need me.”

“I don’t give a shit.” He’d softened once, and look where that had gotten him. In this fucking cage, because of a woman who tempted parts of him that he hadn’t even realized still existed. He crushed that longing ruthlessly. The goal was clear. McClain was right in from of him. He just had to get at him. “I want you dead, McClain, and I won’t stop until one of us is down.”

McClain straightened. “I know.” His lips thinned. Something that looked like hope died in his eyes, replaced by resolve. “Tomorrow at dawn. I’ll give you the night to heal. Then you’ll get your chance at me.”

What
? Lucius surged to his feet, grabbing the bars again. “You’ll meet me in the ring?” He’d expected a bullet to the back of the head. Hope swelled as bitter vengeance burned through his veins.

McClain turned on his heel, toward the door. “Just you and me, Luc. My knife, your claws. One survivor.”

“No rules,” he called softly.

“No rules,” McClain echoed.

R
iley leaned back
against the wall, tapping her palms restlessly against the stone as she peeked around the corner. She’d seen McClain go into the examination room. The keys were burning a hole in her bag, but she couldn’t do anything. Eden might find them missing soon, but with McClain and the two guards at the door she was useless.

Butterflies swarmed in her stomach, and she looked each way down the corridor, checking for witnesses, certain she’d be caught at any moment.

The door jerked open and she bounced back onto the balls of her feet as McClain’s voice echoed in the courtyard. The jingle of keys sounded as he locked the door, then he swore under his breath.

Riley shoved her hands into her jeans pockets to still them. With his heightened sense of smell, there was no point hiding. Stepping out into the courtyard, she waited for him to notice her.

McClain went still. “What are you doing here?”

She tipped her chin up, shrugged. “Eden said you were considering a reprieve. I wanted to know if that were true or not.” A lie, but she had to know.

A breathless moment.

His eyes hardened. “No. I’m not.” He turned and dead-locked the door, slipping the key into his pocket. “I intend to execute him, Riley. Tomorrow. At dawn.”

Then he pushed past, leaving her staring blindly at the door, guilt burning in her throat like bile.

She had to do something.

Now.