Veiled (11 page)

Merl shook his head. “At least five hundred on her estate alone. But why the fucking questions? You think you’re going to bust the veiled woman out of this prison, whether she’s my sister or not?”

Luken glanced at Duncan who offered a single dip of his chin.

Luken couldn’t explain the level of certainty that overcame him despite Merl’s doubt, but he went with it. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do and you’re wrong, you will go to Third Earth with us. You’re one of us now. Duncan’s vision has given us the security code to the portal leading straight into the prison. We can do this, as limited as we are. We can do it. And we’ll use your portal for entrance onto the grid. The rest, we’ll figure out as we go, including your vulnerability on Third. But we’re meant to do this.”

Merl nodded. He might not appear completely convinced, but he’d lost some of his despair.

Luken turned to Duncan. “And this woman, possibly Katlynn, said she had only a few days to live. Right?”

“The warriors as well.”

Luken frowned. “Wait, what warriors? You mean the men in the cells.”

“Yes. I’m certain all seven men were Third Earth Warriors of the Blood.”

Merl turned toward Duncan, his face paling dramatically. “You have to be mistaken. I mean, how could you know these men are What-Bees?”

“Because of the nature of the vision. They seemed to be a team as well since each of the men had the same tattoo running down his spine.”

Merl weaved on his feet, and uttered a string of curses. He then stunned them all by folding off his maroon battle harness and turning around. His back was fully exposed. “A tattoo like this one?”

Luken nodded to Duncan. “Is this what you saw in the vision?” The black tattoo was composed of a long line of stacked blade points, traveling from a broader design at the top where the harness formed a T at the neck. At the base was a similar configuration to the initial one, but wider.

“Exactly,” Duncan said. “There’s no doubt in my mind. This is the tattoo I saw in the vision.”

Merl turned around slowly to face Duncan, but his gaze now had a wild, almost panicked look. “Not my men. She fucking promised me. Yolanthe said she’d leave them in peace if I left Third.” A keening sound came from his throat. It was a high screech that slowly descended in timbre and turned into a resonant roar.

The team backed swiftly away from him as he began to pace. He folded and levitated, shouting his rage. Somewhere in the middle of moving around, his wings launched, the lavender and black bands taking him into the air. He flew erratically near the branches of the sycamore. All the while his agonized voice raged.

Luken felt a breeze next to him, the first clue Endelle had mounted her wings as well. She could change their color whenever she liked, one more instance of her enormous power, and right now they were a deep red. She rose into the air and began to track beside Merl. At this distance, beneath Merl’s pained roars, Luken heard Endelle’s voice as she began talking him down.

Luken joined Jean-Pierre and the rest of the team as they moved to stand close to the redwood paneled walls, getting out of the way. No one said a word, but a terrible vibration of pain had filled the entire room.

Somewhere in midair, Merl finally drew in his wings and levitated close to Endelle. To everyone’s surprise, she surrounded the powerful warrior with her arms, supporting them both with the waft of her own wings. The man’s ensuing sobs tore Luken to shreds.

Luken turned to Jean-Pierre. “Got any beer in your fridge?”

“
Oui,
of course.”

Luken gestured for the team to file out. No one protested.

~

Rachel wasn’t as surprised as she might have been that Merl lost it. Through the vision Duncan had shared with her, she’d seen the warriors chained up, no doubt tortured as well. If the veiled woman was his sister and if his fellow warriors had been imprisoned despite his efforts to save them, it was no wonder he’d taken it hard.

Because of Rachel’s brother, Gideon, and his warrior-like qualities, she’d been around fighting men her entire life. She understood them, the camaraderie, the depth of devotion each had to the land they defended, the unspoken commitment to never leave a man behind, the love they held for each other.

Apparently, Merl had left seven of his brothers-in-arms behind as well as his sister. It was also clear Yolanthe had lied to Merl. She’d taken Merl’s team when she’d promised to leave them alone.

Her own throat tightened at the sight of Endelle holding Merl in her arms. Her massive scarlet wings wafted slowly, keeping her in place and away from the upper canopy branches. Rachel took Duncan’s hand in a tight grip.

These men gave everything they had in service to others. They battled hard, trained their bodies mercilessly, and were prepared to lay down their lives. Merl had lived in the cold for five decades, not knowing the fate of either his sister or his brother-warriors.

His prior behavior became clear to her, why he’d acted as though he didn’t care about anything but his own pleasure and why he’d held back being part of Luken’s team. He’d been a man sustaining a façade to protect those he loved. He’d been nothing but warrior, after all.

Yet, seeing Merl so completely destroyed brought the war home to Rachel in a way it hadn’t during the past month of training. She’d made a transition, a big one, to Warrior of the Blood. She battled beside the men, making use of her shield ability, the occasional use of a wrecker shotgun, and her finesse with daggers.

But she’d forgotten the other side, the one of personal destruction.

Luken began waving them toward the door, no doubt intending to give Merl some space. She put her feet in motion, her hand still tucked within Duncan’s. She had no idea what he was thinking, but her own reaction had put her back in the past without warning.

There were many reasons she’d fought against joining up with the Ops Team. The main one had involved Grieg, her abusive husband, now deceased. Not that she was excusing Grieg’s behavior, but the warrior life took a toll on the men and women who served.

Did she really want that life for herself? She’d made a commitment to serve on the team because she knew this was where she belonged, at least for the present. She’d be offering her shielding protection to Duncan and the rest of the team repeatedly over the coming weeks, perhaps even months. And she’d be saving lives.

But how could this ever be a lifetime endeavor for her?

You okay?
Duncan sent.

I don’t know.

Don’t do this, Rachel. Don’t pull away from me.

I’m not.
At least she didn’t think she was.

You are.
I can feel it in your silence.

The door to the sycamore room was now shut and the rest of the team had disappeared up the hall to the living room.

Duncan turned her toward him. “Talk to me.”

The moment had blindsided her, reminding her that Duncan wasn’t the only one with issues. She said softly, “What kind of life is this for anyone?”

He pulled her against him. “I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if I hadn’t been the son of a famous Militia Warrior, I might have chosen a different path.”

She was so stunned; she drew back and looked up at him. “You’re serious? Duncan, I’ve never heard you so much as hint you would have ever done something else with your life.”

“I know. And I also know, like you, I’m built for this life. It’s a weird paradox.”

She sighed. “There are moments, like this one, when the nature and sheer size of the mountain in front of us overwhelms me. Do you think those men in the vision were part of Merl’s team?”

“I think it’s even worse. I now believe Merl served as the leader of the Warriors of the Blood on Third and when he left, he thought he was saving them all, his sister included.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “And instead, Yolanthe imprisoned them.”

“And soon, she’ll kill them. We have to get them all out. I see that now. But I have no idea how we’ll be able to get the job done.”

She felt it as well, the future hurtling toward the team, demanding more from each than she could have ever imagined.

He added, “Since I’m having visions, my guess is Yolanthe has a Seer or possibly several working for her. She might already know about us. At the very least, she’s seeking information about me. I know she’s not finished trying to put me back in harness.”

Rachel sighed and for a moment laid her head on his chest. The future felt so uncertain yet full of demands. She’d already made the commitment to the team, and she wouldn’t back out now, but Merl’s distress had definitely reminded her of all the stakes involved.

~

Duncan held Rachel close, not wanting to let her go.

There was nothing simple in this group of warriors. If what Duncan believed was true, Merl felt responsible that his men were in prison, God help him.

After a moment, he released Rachel. “We should join the others.”

“I know.”

Once in the living room, Jean-Pierre held up a box. “Rachel, this is for you. Warrior Santiago sent it over when I told him I would be seeing you tonight.”

Rachel went to Jean-Pierre immediately, taking the box from him. “My new daggers. And he said he was having a holster set made as well.”

“A holster set?” Jean-Pierre asked.

Rachel shrugged. “That’s what he called it.”

“Not a belt?” Duncan had no idea what Santiago had been up to.

“Nope.” Rachel sat down and settled the large box on her lap. She flipped the latch and lifted the lid, then pulled out a black leather belt with two holsters attached and leather strings dangling from the end of each.

Holding it up, she said, “I get it now. These strings tie around my thighs. Genius.” She glanced at Duncan. “Look, there are four angled slots on each side panel. I’ll have ten daggers at my disposal, four on each hip and two in my weapons harness. This is perfect.”

At the bottom of the box were eight daggers in a row, each in its own sheath.

She carefully took the first one out, her eyes wide. “He made these himself, didn’t he?” She glanced up at Jean-Pierre.

“
Oui, bien sur.
He is a craftsman and he is obsessed.”

Duncan knew Santiago had a love of weaponry, including daggers, and was always working on some new project or other. When he’d seen Rachel’s skill a couple of weeks ago at HQ, he’d told her he’d put something together for her. Duncan had thought maybe he’d create a new blade. Instead, he’d made eight.

Rachel stood up and immediately donned the belt, using the strings to tie each holster down around her thighs. Duncan had to take a few deep breaths because the whole look got to him, leather on leather, each dagger sliding into its slot, and Rachel’s eyes glittering.

“I can’t wait to do some practicing.” She palmed one of the daggers from her right holster. “Oh, yeah. This is fantastic.”

Duncan had to look away. But Jean-Pierre caught his eye and grinned at him, a very knowing look that made Duncan shake his head.

“I think we are in need of some distraction,
non
?” He asked quietly.

“How about that beer?”

Jean-Pierre laughed as he headed into the kitchen. “Follow me. I think after what Merl has just gone through, we could all use a break.”

As Jean-Pierre handed Duncan some beers, he shouted a loud ‘heads up’ and began tossing them to the rest of the team. Each of the men caught a bottle and offered up a whoop of appreciation in response.

“Before you open them, take them onto the deck,” Jean-Pierre called out. “If these floors see even a single drop of beer, Fiona will kick me from the bed and that I will not have,
mes frères.
”

The men chuckled and headed outside.

Duncan drew near Rachel once more and handed her a beer, but she didn’t take it. She glanced at the bottle and put a hand to her stomach. “I haven’t eaten so this doesn’t exactly appeal right now.”

He narrowed his eyes. “But you always love a good beer, anytime.”

“What I really want is some food.”

“Jean-Pierre’s housekeeper made a tray of sandwiches. He’ll be bringing it out soon.”

“Good, because suddenly I’m starved.” Keeping warriors fed was a big part of the nightly routine and Rachel was one of them now.

“You like your new holsters?”

“Are you kidding? I love them.”

Because the team was on the deck and Jean-Pierre was still in the kitchen, Duncan leaned close and whispered. “And I’m loving the look. Just sayin’.”

Rachel shifted to telepathy.
You mean this leather tied around my thighs?

Oh, yeah.

Rachel leaned up and kissed him, a lingering kiss that made him wish they were alone. When she drew back, she planted a hand on his weapons harness, and sent,
That’s enough for now. Any more of this and I’ll have to haul you into the woods.

Duncan chuckled and shook his head. “You’re right.” He stepped away from her.
Though you might want to leave the holster set behind, at least for now.

I think I’d better because you’re shedding your spicy ale scent like there’s no tomorrow and I’m about ready to crawl all over you.

When she reached between her legs to untie the leather strings, he had to turn his back to her. Of course, he caught sight of Jean-Pierre watching him and grinning all over again. But there was also compassion in the Frenchman’s eyes, so Duncan wasn’t annoyed.

Jean-Pierre knew the drill. Not so long ago, the
breh-hedden
had slammed down on his head in the shape of the former blood-slave, Fiona.

Once Rachel had settled the holster set back in the box, he led her out onto the deck and handed off the extra beer to Josh.

The moment the large platter of food appeared, the men began to devour and a lot of the tension dissipated. Rachel took a chicken salad sandwich and settled herself at the table. He watched her for a moment, concerned about her stomach troubles. Maybe the stress of battle had been getting to her more than she was willing to admit.

He picked up a roast beef sandwich on a thick bun and began his own devouring act.