The Reluctant Amazon (Alliance of the Amazons) (15 page)

* * *

Artair wanted to touch Rebecca, wanted to take her hand
and give it a reassuring squeeze. Her fear rose from her like an aura, and he
wasn’t sure if soothing would help or hurt the situation. She was an Amazon,
damn it. He shouldn’t be concerned about her, but fear that he might lose her
twisted his gut.

He tried to shake the feeling of doom. Everything about this
mission bothered him. Sparks had been so unsure of Trishna’s whereabouts for so
many weeks. It seemed odd that she suddenly knew where Trishna was. The whole
nightmare reeked of a trap. They needed more time to figure out all
contingencies. But Sparks would not be deterred, and if they didn’t go to find
Trishna together, she would have ventured out on her own. She’d left him no
choice.

Plus there was no chance for Trishna if he didn’t forge ahead.
“Go,” he ordered. “Enter on my signal.”

Megan and Sparks moved away to seek their entrances to the
foreboding warehouse.

Rebecca followed Artair to the door.

Pulling his sword, he nodded for her to do the same. She gave
him one quick frown in response and drew her sword. Artair gave a slow mental
count to fifty then put his fingers to his lips and whistled loud and long. With
one swift kick, the door opened before him.

He cautiously led the way inside, trying to let his eyes adjust
to the increased darkness. The place smelled dank and grimy. The scurry of rats
along the ground forced a small, frightened squeak from Rebecca’s throat.

They were separated from Sparks and Megan—they’d all expected
to appear in the same large room. Now a wall of wooden crates hindered their
path, and the other Amazons might have the same obstacle. Urgency hit him like a
blow to the chest. They needed to get out. Quickly.

He grabbed Rebecca’s wrist and dragged her toward the break in
the crates. They hurried through the narrow passage.

Sparks knelt in front of where Trishna was tied to a wooden
chair in the middle of the enormous room. Her fingers worked on the ropes
binding Trishna’s ankles.

Megan stood, sword ready to battle any comers.

Artair and Rebecca hurried to join them.

“We must hurry, Sparks,” he said. “I don’t like this. Smells
like a trap.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Good to see you, Trish. Ye look fit,” he said to the Amazon.
Her green eyes narrowed, so she was well. As soon as he pulled the tape from her
mouth, she’d sharpen her tongue and skewer him with it. At least the lass was
unharmed. He gently eased the tape off. “Are you well?”

“How do you
think
I am, Artair?”
she replied. “I’m tied to a flippin’ chair!”

Rebecca put her sword down and knelt behind the chair, working
her shaking fingers through the thick tangle of knots that held Trishna’s waist
to the chair. Trishna’s long brunette braid kept getting in the way, so Rebecca
draped it over her shoulder.

“I don’t have my powers.” Trishna’s words were flavored with a
Southern drawl. “Some damn shaman came in, sprinkled some stinky powder on me,
waved his arms around and said some words in one of the languages I don’t speak.
Suddenly, I’m powerless.”

“Shit,” Sparks said. “I thought Ganga was exaggerating. How did
that happen?” She pulled her knife from its sheath and tried to saw through the
fat yellow nylon ropes. “I’d blast you outta this, but I’m afraid I’d burn
you.”

“Thanks for the restraint,” Trishna replied with a lopsided
grin. “Third-degree burns aren’t my idea of a good time. Come on, rookie,” she
called over her shoulder. “Get me out of this mess. We need to get out of
here.”

“I’m trying,” Rebecca replied, her fingers still working on the
ropes.

Artair kept his sword at ready, watching the progress of the
women and fervently wishing they’d hurry. As if he didn’t have too much to worry
about, now Trishna had been stripped of her protective powers. He should have
taken Ganga at her word, but he’d held out hope she was mistaken. Amazons
never
lost their powers—it wasn’t even supposed to be
possible. Only an Amazon’s goddess could take away her gifts.

Megan paced a short measure beside the other three Amazons,
glancing back at him from time to time. Her eyes were wide, her breath quick and
shallow. She was ready to pop. Literally.

Sparks was the first to react to the sudden stench, a flame
shooting from her hair as she jumped to her feet. “Revenants!”

The filthy creatures poured in from the two doors, as more came
from the entrance he and Rebecca had used to get through the crates. “’Tis a
fight they’re wanting, then we shall give it to them.”

* * *

Rebecca swallowed the bile rising in the back of her
throat. The fetid smell made it hard to breathe. Her jackhammer heart didn’t
help matters much, either. At Sparks’s shout, Rebecca had first reached for her
sword before realizing if she didn’t free Trishna, the woman was defenseless.
Her sword fell to the ground with a clatter, and she returned to working at the
ropes with her hands and her teeth as bursts of flames were lighting up her
peripheral vision from the direction Sparks had run.

“Becca!” Artair shouted, swinging a sword and decapitating a
revenant that she hadn’t realized was bending over her, ready to attack. She
kept at her task, ignoring the fear that poured through her veins and threatened
to still her movements.

She worked knot by knot to free Trishna. The shouts of battle
surrounded her, but she drowned them out. This was her job,
her
task. She just knew it. She couldn’t look up, couldn’t let the
fear she had for Artair, Sparks and Megan stop her.

“Go,” Trishna urged. “Leave me!”

“No,” Rebecca whispered.

“Go, you stupid kid!”

“I won’t leave you.”

A revenant came from the front, heading right for them. Rebecca
had no choice. She grabbed her sword, ran to put herself between Trishna and the
zombie and attacked.

This was no three, not even a two like she’d faced at Helen’s
apartment. No, this revenant was a dusky gray, but she had two eyes, all her
fingers and quick movement for somebody who was dead. The snarl falling from the
decaying lips raised gooseflesh. Rebecca swung her weapon, hoping to catch the
revenant’s outstretched arms. The creature snarled again and grabbed the sharp
end of the sword as if to stop its arch. Severed fingers flew through the air.
The creature screamed.

Rebecca pulled her arms back and took another swing, aiming
higher and hoping to channel her anger and fear as Artair had taught her. Her
heavy sword went halfway through the revenant’s neck, remaining buried in the
thick tissue. The revenant crumpled to her knees. Before she could pull her
weapon free, another zombie caught her from behind, wrapping its arms around her
chest and dragging her to the ground. She released her hold on the embedded
sword and fumbled through her clothing for her dirk.

“No!” Artair’s shout echoed through the room.

She ignored it and stabbed her dagger deep into the zombie’s
belly.

She hefted the revenant off her back, put her foot against the
first revenant’s shoulder and jerked her sword free. First she beheaded the
revenant who’d tried to tackle her, then she turned back to Trishna, walked
behind the chair with a new air of confidence and severed the ropes with one
quick, angry slash.

Artair tugged off the now loose ropes and helped Trishna to her
feet. After handing her a dirk, he started to cut a path through the revenants
toward the closest exit.

Rebecca turned her attention to her sister, trying to calm the
storm of adrenaline flowing through her. Megan swung her sword with fury, too
busy trying to behead the revenants to put down her weapon and throw fire at
them. Her back was unprotected. Rebecca hurried to her and beheaded a revenant a
moment before he would have taken a chunk out of Megan’s shoulder.

Turning to keep her back to Megan’s, she met a wall of
revenants, realizing too late she hadn’t protected her own back. Swinging the
weighty sword, she took one attacker down, but two managed to push closer. The
sword was knocked from her hand.

She reached for her dirk before remembering she’d left it
planted deep in another zombie’s belly. A revenant grabbed her by the neck and
settled its mouth on her, biting her shoulder. She was so focused on the intense
pain, she didn’t even hear her own scream.

The revenant pulled away, snarled with dark blood dripping from
its sharpened teeth and prepared to take another bite.

She struggled against his hold—kicking, scratching and
twisting. She closed her eyes, bracing for another slice of agony to rip through
her. But it never came. As the hand fell away from her throat, she cautiously
opened her eyes to see Artair standing before her as a now headless revenant
dropped to the floor next to two more headless bodies.

“Becca?”

“I’m fine.” She pushed his hand away when he touched her
wounded shoulder. Reaching down to pick up her sword, she glanced to Sparks.
Fire fought her way through six revenants to get to Trishna, who was cornered by
a bulky zombie who could have played for the NFL. “Get to Trishna!”

Rebecca would always remember the scene in slow motion. The
zombies she beheaded. Artair struggling, trying to get through three revenants
blocking his path. Megan and Sparks swinging their weapons and blasting anything
in their way. They were all calling to Trishna, trying to reach her side.

And Rebecca would always remember Trishna burying a dirk deep
in the chest of the revenant as he killed her.

Chapter Fourteen

Rebecca held the hastily made compress to her shoulder.
The injury throbbed in rhythm with her heartbeat, but she pushed aside the
pain.

Sparks cradled Trishna’s bloody head in her lap, rocking as if
the dead Amazon could still receive comfort for her injuries. Sparks’s grief
landed on Rebecca like a crippling weight, and Megan bore it as well.

The world had turned bleak. They’d walked into the trap Artair
had feared. Amazed they’d only lost one Amazon, she glanced to where he sat
silently in the back of the van, his face unreadable. He wouldn’t look at her,
staring instead at Sparks and Trishna.

The guilt draped over him like a cloak. He obviously blamed
himself. Rebecca understood because she blamed herself every bit as much.

Had she been able to handle herself, Artair never would have
charged to her rescue. She’d tried. She hadn’t frozen as she had in that first
fight at Condemned. When Trishna needed her, Rebecca had been able to protect
her sister, and she’d freed her.

She’d feared it would be weakness that would cripple her in a
battle, but she hadn’t been weak. She’d been impulsive.

And Trishna died.

Rebecca caught herself against the wall as Megan took a sharp
corner. She had a passing thought that Fires should never be allowed to drive.
Neither of the two she knew had any great skill at it. Then she remembered the
van was enchanted. All Megan was doing was sitting in the front and helplessly
watching the road slip by.

Lifting the compress from her shoulder, Rebecca winced at the
jagged and torn flesh. A shudder ripped through her at the thought of that
disgusting dead thing taking a bite out of her. The bleeding had finally slowed
as the injury rapidly knit closed. She looked back at Sparks.

Blood had been dripping from her torn ear, but the flow had
stopped. The wound still appeared to need stitches. Her right earlobe was
shredded as if someone had grabbed a pierced earring and viciously yanked it
out. If there were more injuries, she couldn’t tell. Sparks was covered in
blood, but it was hard to know which was hers and which was Trishna’s. Beagan
and Dolan would sort out the Amazons’ injuries when they all returned to
Avalon.

“We’re here,” Megan said in a voice much softer than Rebecca
had ever heard from the brash woman. “Artair, can you let us in?”

He didn’t reply, simply opened the back door, stepped out and
slammed it behind him. A few moments later, the side door slid open. Artair
reached for Trishna, trying to take her from Sparks’s arms.

“No!” Sparks leaned forward to cover Trishna’s body with her
own. “You can’t have her!”

Artair backed up a step, but Rebecca could read the tension in
him. “We must give her to the changelings to prepare for burial,” he softly
replied.

“No.” Sparks emphatically shook her head. “You can’t. I won’t
let you put her in the ground.”

Rebecca needed to step in. Emotions were running too high and
too hot, she had to help them all find some calm. She moved next to Sparks who
had relaxed to sit back up. Rebecca put her hand over her mentor’s. “We need to
take her into Avalon now.”

Sparks shook her head again, but no tears fell. The scent of a
campfire drowned in water floated around her, mixing with the sickening smell of
blood.

“We’ll take care of her,” Rebecca consoled. “Beagan and Dolan
will care for her.”

Sparks sniffed and released a shuddering sigh. “They can’t care
for her, can they? She’s gone. Dead.”

“I know. But we owe her a heroine’s burial, don’t we?” She
still held her hand over her friend’s. “She’s our sister. We’ll take good care
of her.”

Sparks turned to look at her. The anguish in her eyes was so
clear, it flowed into her like an electric shock. “You will?”

Rebecca nodded, and Sparks finally consented to let Artair lift
Trishna from the floor of the van and carry her through the gates. He
disappeared into the trees, heading for the compound.

Megan came around to help Rebecca and Sparks from the van.

Giving her sister a quick appraisal, Rebecca was relieved Megan
didn’t seem injured.

“I’ll kill him, you know,” Sparks said as she stared after
Artair, her deep voice husky with emotion.

Rebecca feared that Sparks meant Artair, that she blamed him
for losing Trishna. “Who?”

“When I find the damned bastard who put Jin up to this, I’ll
kill him myself. He’ll be ash. So will Jin. Nothing but a couple of piles of
smoldering ash.”

“I know.” Rebecca wrapped her arm around Sparks’s waist and led
her through the gate as Megan trailed behind.

* * *

Rhiannon was waiting when they reached the compound, and
Rebecca gave a weary sigh, knowing the goddess would be the final act of an
already trying day.

Had it only been hours ago that she’d been in Artair’s arms,
practicing with her bow? It had to be close to dawn, and she turned to the east
to see the first pink rays breaking on the horizon. Another damn sunrise she was
paying witness to. This one held no beauty.

A second goddess appeared with a shimmer of silver light.
Ganga. The Water goddess had come to pay respects to her dead warrior.

Artair still held Trishna in his arms, and she wondered if she
would have to help him let her go the way she had Sparks.

Ganga stood before him, closed her eyes and gently put her hand
on Trishna’s forehead. “May you know rest, my child. You will go to your reward.
You fought long and bravely, and we thank you for your service. You have saved
mankind more than once, and you will not be forgotten. Your rewards in the next
life will be plentiful.”

Rebecca blinked back tears, fearing once she allowed them to
flow, they might never stop. But, God, she desperately needed to let the
crippling tension and emotion go. Crying would help her purge them.

Ganga spoke a few more words over Trishna in what Rebecca
assumed was Hindi before the goddess glanced up and put her hand on Artair’s
shoulder. “I will miss you, Artair MacKay. I thank you for the centuries of your
loyalty and care for my Amazons. I hope you also find your reward. May you live
a long mortal life and find love and peace before your days end.”

She disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived.

Centuries?
The word twirled around
Rebecca’s mind.

Beagan and Dolan scurried out to lead Artair toward the lodge.
He dutifully followed, never glancing back.

Megan looked at Rebecca. “I’m going to take Sparks to get a
shower and then to her cabin.”

“I’m fine,” Sparks insisted. “You two don’t have to pussyfoot
around me. I’m not some old lady.”

“No one said you were,” Megan replied. “Why don’t we go have a
smoke, catch a shower, and see if Beagan and Dolan can scare up some good
whiskey?”

Sparks nodded.

“Want to join us, Rebs?” Megan asked, her eyes shifting between
Rebecca and Rhiannon.

“No, thanks,” she replied. “I need to speak to my goddess. I’ll
try to come over later, though. I could use a drink, so don’t let Sparks finish
the whole bottle.”

Megan’s lips formed a hesitant smile as she nodded.

The Fires headed toward Sparks’s cabin. Rebecca wasn’t sure
exactly how to talk to Rhiannon. How did a mere mortal start a conversation with
a goddess?

“He is sad,” Rhiannon finally said, her eyes scanning Rebecca
from head to toe.

She still came up short in Rhiannon’s opinion, but she’d
stopped caring. This goddess held no love for her, and she refused to play the
part of the desperate child begging for an indifferent parent’s affection. She
was an Amazon. She stood proud before the goddess. “He blames himself.”

Rhiannon had probably come to tell her how disappointed she was
in her pathetic performance in the unsuccessful rescue. She wasn’t up to a
lecture—even one from her patron goddess.

“He should,” Rhiannon coolly replied, standing there like some
medieval queen in her silver gown. “Trishna is dead because of his desire for
you. I had hoped to convince him to stay, to keep him in Avalon. But his lust
for you has made him useless in battle, and now I must release him. All because
of his fascination with an immature Amazon who does not live up to her
title.”

Goddess or not, Rebecca had reached her fill. She wasn’t
surprised when a small earthquake roared beneath her feet. She was too weary and
too angry to even try to control her powers. “I am
not
immature, and I
will
live up to the
title. I held my own in that battle. I’ll be the Amazon I was meant to be.”

“Not if I send you home.”

“
This
is my home.”

Rhiannon frowned. “Perhaps if I remove you, Arthur can restore
what he has lost. Perhaps he will stay with me—um—with the Amazons.” Rhiannon
walked a slow circle around her, trailing a finger over Rebecca’s shoulder and
her back.

If she didn’t get a grip, she would knock that condescending
finger away. Although giving Rhiannon’s hand a smack might alleviate some of her
tension, it wouldn’t help matters any. She didn’t even flinch when the goddess
touched the raw, aching wound.

“What is so special about you, Rebecca Massee? What is unique?
Why does he desire
you?
There have been many, many
more over the centuries who have been far more deserving of his attentions.” Her
revolution complete, the goddess stood before Rebecca and shook her head. “You
are not worthy.” When Rebecca opened her mouth, Rhiannon stopped her reply with
another flippant wave. “Oh, you are pretty, and you are somewhat clever. Yet
there is nothing special about you, nothing that should draw my Arthur to your
side.”

An irate shout startled Rebecca. “I am nae yer
Arthur.
He died centuries ago, and I cannot replace
him.” In long, angry strides, Artair reached them. He threw a scowl at Rhiannon.
“’Tis time to bring the other Amazons home and install the new Sentinel. I am
away from here as soon as it can be arranged.”

The tears sprang to her eyes before she could stop them. To
have Artair say he was abandoning her, and to have a goddess—
her
goddess—so blatantly dismiss her was more than she
could take. Rebecca stopped trying to stem the tears and let them slide down her
cheeks.

She needed to wash away the blood, sweat and grime and spend
her grief. Then she could breathe again. Then she could think. Then she could
find some control.

She fixed a glare at Rhiannon. “I know you don’t want me here,
but I’m not leaving. I won’t leave Megan.” The earth rumbled to punctuate her
vow. “And I won’t leave Sparks. Or Gina and Sarita.” The branches of the trees
began to twist at her command.

She focused that energy, that power flowing through her, and
made the trees dance in a symphony of fury. She wanted Artair and Rhiannon to
know the storm that raged in her heart. Emotions gave her power. Love, hurt and
anger became a potent combination.

Turning to Artair, she rubbed her eyes to try to see him
clearly. “You’re leaving me? You’re really leaving me?”

“Lass, I—”

The ground rumbled her displeasure. “Answer my question,
Artair! Are you leaving me?”

Seconds passed in agonizing sluggishness.

“Aye.”

The trees stilled and the ground calmed. Rebecca’s despair
ended her control and drained every last ounce of her power. “Damn you.”

“You are to stay away from him,” Rhiannon warned, wagging her
finger at Rebecca. “For the remainder of his time with the Amazons, you will
train with the Guardian, not the Sentinel.”

“Go to hell. Both of you.” Rebecca turned on her heel and
stalked away.

* * *

Artair desperately wanted to pick her up and carry her
away from this place—to save her from the fate that eventually befell all
Amazons. Seeing Trishna die was horrifying. Losing Rebecca would kill him.

Yet he couldn’t save her, no matter how much he loved her. He’d
seen the change in her. She was going to be everything she could be. Rebecca had
become a true Amazon. There would be no turning back for her.

Artair faced Rhiannon. “Yer a goddess, nae a human. You should
not be acting like a jealous chit.”

Rhiannon’s eyes flashed red. He didn’t care. What punishment
could she give for his insolence that would hurt him more than losing
Trishna?

Losing Becca.

“I will train my Amazons until the new Sentinel arrives. You
have my loyalty, m’lady. But you may nae tell me to stay away from Becca.”

“She is not worthy to be called an Amazon. She is weak. Trishna
is dead because of your love for that woman.”

He didn’t bother denying the truth—Rhiannon’s blame echoed his
own.

“If you had not needed to save her—”

“Nay. She only needed me because she was protecting Megan’s
back instead of her own. ’Tis my fault Trishna’s dead. ’Twas my sin, nae hers. I
should have seen the trap.”

Rhiannon’s eyes, back to their more customary green, considered
him. “Earth did show some…spirit.”

“Aye, she did. She didn’t flee. Nay, she freed Trishna, even as
the filthy creatures surrounded them both. She saved Megan’s life, though it
could’ve cost her own.”

“Perhaps I have misjudged her. Perhaps she may one day be
worthy to be called Earth.”

It was more of a concession than he’d expected. The goddess had
always been stubborn to a fault, but her softening toward Rebecca, slight though
it was, boded well.

Artair saluted Rhiannon, laying his fist over his heart. “If ye
will excuse me, m’lady. I must give instructions to the changelings. They must
prepare Trishna for burial.”

“Go, Sentinel.” She disappeared in a flash of light.

Dawn had broken. The day wouldn’t be easy. They would have to
lay Trishna to rest. He would have to talk to his Amazons to see what they’d
gleaned from the fight. Maybe something they had witnessed would give them some
clues as to Jin’s next move. His mind spinning, he grasped for something to
ground him, to be an anchor in the storm.