Ruptured: The Cantati Chronicles (3 page)

“Yes, sir,” I bit out as I saluted and quit his office. The threat of tears scorched the backs of my eyelids. Cold steel chains wrapped themselves about my wrists and shackled me to my fate.

Goddess help me.

Chapter Three

I blasted through
the Command Center as I left my father’s office and almost barreled into Declan, a giant of a man barely a sliver older than I. Yet my anger seethed and coiled like a living, breathing being. Declan averted his eyes, slipping to the right to avoid my wrath.

“Sorry, sir.” He saluted.

“Private.” I returned his salute and continued marching past the radar screens and blinking lights. Would I be barred from returning to this room? Everything I held most dear had been whisked from my grasp. My breathing was shallow as I attempted to contain my fury. I should be out there fighting, protecting the remaining survivors, especially when Versailles had lost seventeen hundred people last week.

When I emerged through the Center doors, I hesitated. The hallway to the right led to the barracks and my room. The same room Cade would visit upon completing his assignment. Going left would take me to the cafeteria, the then training rooms, armory, and training fields.

I went left. Orders be damned. Consequences be damned. The Desert seemed preferable than my current predicament.

I strode through the crowded mess hall. The voices of the men there were a dull roar. I avoided eye contact. I did not want to witness their pity, or curiosity, or worse, their satisfaction. Conversation stopped as I passed. I wondered how fast my disobedience would be reported. I would kick their asses for the offense.

Like I give a shit what they think of me.

I was finished with them all. Maybe I would leave and head into the desert, or better yet stage a mutiny and start my own damn compound. I kept my features frozen and unreadable while striding through the maze. My fate was already the gossip of the Compound, why provide them with more fodder? But I should have gone the long way around to the training center. When I got angry, my rational brain tended to shut down and I was all rage, tossing any common sense into the trash.

Leaving the cafeteria, I marched into the hallway beyond and did not glance back as conversation resumed.

Vultures.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I entered the empty training room. Most Cantati were either on duty or in the mess hall at this hour. The Levare and other humans were not allowed in the Cantati training areas. The Mutari had created more than the Cantati. It had created another subset of humans. Similar to the Cantati, something within the human genetic coding had mutated and produced the race of the Levare, whose intelligence was only marginally higher than cows’. The Levare served the Cantati and did the most menial of jobs: cooking, cleaning, minding the fields and animals. And the rest, the humans who did not become Cantati or Levare, were given the jobs the Levare’s lower intelligence could not handle. They trained in rebuilding our computer infrastructure, became doctors, builders constructing better walls to restrain demons, enforcers reporting to the Council and the Coven.

The gym had a large selection of free weights, weight machines, and punching bags dangling from support beams along the far wall. In the next room, the Cantati had practice dummies for sparring. I was at home here. This place made sense. The world outside these two rooms housed nothing but chaos. I smiled and headed for one of the bags. Stripping my jacket off, I wrapped tape around my hands with methodical precision. Once they were firmly bound, I allowed all the pent-up fury to explode and took my frustration out on the bag.

Uppercut, double jab, right hook, my hands burned with every throw. Overhand right, cross-punch right, left jab, right jab, check hook. I lost myself in the movements. My mind emptied with every hit, every kick.

A hand clasped my shoulder, and I swiveled, landing a right hook square onto Ben’s jaw. His six-foot frame stumbled back and he held his clean-shaven jaw.

“Christ, Lieutenant!” Ben barked. His blue eyes, normally full of mischief, appeared dazed.

“Fuck, Ben! Don’t sneak up on me like that.” He knew better than that. I had a nasty right hook that would have knocked a lesser man unconscious.

“I didn’t sneak. I had been calling your name for two minutes.” He shook his head like he was attempting to shake off the effects of the punch. A red patch bloomed on his jaw. He would have a nasty bruise by tomorrow.

Mortified, I apologized. “Sorry about that.”

“I’ll live. The bag, however, is dead.” Ben chuckled. I glanced over my shoulder. The bag looked like a grenade had ripped it to shreds.

“Your point?” I addressed him drolly. I had had a sucktacular day and did not need to explain my actions. As close as I was to these guys, even as their former leader, I could never falter in their eyes. No matter what I felt, no matter how torn up I was inside, I had been their direct superior, leader of the Green Squad. Ben Callihan, Nick Frasella, Luke Holland, and Quinten Black had been my major squadron leaders. We fought together, bled together, and now at my lowest point, they came to offer support.

“We get it,” Quinten chimed in. He was the most level-headed of the group. I wished the Council had considered him. Between his easy going nature, field expertise, and his smoldering good looks, I would have been hard-pressed to allow their decision rile me this much. At only five-eleven, he was a bit shorter than your average soldier, but he was solid, lean muscle. His darker features spoke of some Spanish or Italian ancestry, not that anyone really knew anymore. He kept his dark hair cut short, but the hint of curls remained.

“And we don’t like that you’ve been handed off to that bastard any more than you do,” Luke insisted. My other candidate was a blond-haired, blue-eyed, six-two stud muffin. He wore fatigues better than any man in the company, as far as I was concerned. He had a bit more bulk than Quinten, shoulders a bit wider, and frankly made my mouth water when I allowed myself to think of him in any way other than one of my officers.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to sleep with him.” The four men looked like they had swallowed robin’s eggs at my retort. Shame washed over me. “Never mind.”

It wasn’t their fault, but mine. I focused on the job and rarely lifted my head up for air. So it was no wonder that the ability to make decisions for my life had been removed and I felt all the control slipping through my grasp faster than it took SPD to distort a memory.

I had made the mistake of hesitating and should have chosen one of these fine men before the Council had issued its verdict. Luke or Quinten would have been the better choices, but Ben and Nick would have done in a pinch. None of that mattered now.

“Why aren’t you out on patrol?” I asked, unwrapping the tape from my hands.

“Rick Sloan took half of the squad and had the rest of us stay to defend the Compound.” Quinten replied.

“So did you come to console me or is there something you guys need?” I prayed to the gods for something else to deal with other than this pressure in my chest that felt like a balloon was about to pop.

“We think platoons of demons are on the move. And we wanted to hunt them down before they do any damage,” Ben remarked.

“Where’d you get your intel?” I almost salivated over the news. That’s what I needed to rid myself of this tension. I was such a hypocrite. I adored terminating demons as much as Cade did, perhaps even more, only I didn’t collect trophies. Maybe that’s why he scared the bloody hell out of me. With Cade, the darkness that had always been present within me, snaking its way through my soul, would be given free rein. It would consume me in large unyielding and unending gulps. It was a place from which there was no coming back. I would plunge headlong into the murky waters and be forever altered. I feared that more than I feared death, more than I feared losing my freedom. I could never let the darkness win.

They all pointed at Luke, our demon-detecting surveillance god.

Luke and I had a similar specialty. I could find demons’ energy signatures like a tracer, but I had no idea the numbers or exactly where, unless I was within five miles of them. He could locate them on a map of the world and provide precise locations, numbers and, on some rare occasions, the breed. The big difference was that his power was useless without a map, so out in the field, his talents were a bust. Which was where I tended to come in, built-in demon detector and all. My powers were comparable to a metal detector. My senses picked up those evil bastards’ energy, and allowed my squad to home in and destroy them.

“Intel came into the Command Center that demons have regrouped and are advancing on the wall. General O’Hare asked me to check with my powers. They are gathering in larger numbers than I have ever sensed before. And they are not far outside the wall.”

“Did the general send out a squad to The Wall to check it out?” I had never known Luke to be off by much. If what he had detected was true, then we had scores of demons headed our way. Granted, Cade’s squad was battle ready, and my men were nothing to sneeze at either, but if it were true, we needed everyone for this fight.

“He didn’t think the intel was correct and didn’t want to risk lives. Cade’s squad was sent into the Desert to find the jump point.”

Bleeding Christ! That left only half of my squad protecting The Wall! And with an officer I wouldn’t trust with a potato gun.

This was not information the general could ignore. What was he thinking? Had Amelia persuaded him to play it safe? If Luke knew where they were located, I would defy the Council and scout the area. They needed my skills. They could prove to be the thing that kept our people from complete annihilation.

“You’ve got the location?”
Please let him have it.
I could save my people and use it to extinguish my fury at the same time. The focus of a search-and-destroy mission where I could unload my fury, my grief, onto the enemy would go a long way toward calming the turbulent mine field of my emotions.

“Yep, southwest of the wall.” Luke smiled smugly. He knew me too well, knew how much I thrived on this action. And had handed me a way to salvage my dignity amidst the fraying ends of my sanity.

“Let’s go get them,” I ordered, exhilarated by the prospect. When it came to war, the importance of even one extra soldier could mean the difference between this Compound surviving or perishing. I was fully prepared to disobey orders to ensure my people lived.

“We’ll go, but you shouldn’t buck the Council’s orders.” Nick, the youngest of the group, and a ginger, cautioned restraint. The problem was, I did not have any. I needed this mission more than I needed to follow the rules. If we were caught, I would deal with the consequences. They were all agog for my womb and wanted it too damn badly.

Luke and I had a wordless conversation. He understood the ramifications of this mission and was on board. I glanced at Ben and Quinten. They both nodded their acquiescence. They would march into hell beside me if it came down to it. Nick had earned his spot through his skills, but was still uncomfortable bucking the system.

“Major Frasella, I’m going, period. If there are as many demons advancing on the wall as Luke detected, then we will need every soldier regardless of the Council’s orders. We leave within the hour. I’ll slip out unseen after I get my gear and meet you at the first rendezvous point just past the Compound at Lower Thames Street. The guards tend to be a little more lax at the gate, and that will provide the best route for us to take. That route should keep us from running into Cade’s squad and the rest of ours under Rick’s leadership. Our mission is to assess the situation and bring back concrete intelligence to the general.” If we were caught, I would ensure my squad was not punished.

“Thought you might say that.” Quinten tossed a black gym bag at my feet. The top was open and I spied all my gear plus weapons. I could have kissed him for this.

A smile spread across my lips as excitement pumped through my veins. I lived for this.

“Suit up, boys.”

“Hoorah,” they shouted in unison.

Chapter Four

We emerged from
the Tower like ghostly apparitions, the five of us keeping to the building’s shadows in a staggered wedge formation. The setting sun glinted off the high window panes of the former office buildings we passed. Our tiny scouting party remained silent and surveyed for any returning battalions, mainly Cade’s bunch, as we headed in the direction of our objective. We were going to scout Hyde Park for the enemy subversives Luke had picked up and eliminate any attempting a wall breach.

Lower Thames Street followed the Thames River, leaving our hunting party without cover to the south. Using the buildings that were still standing for cover, I conveyed all orders wordlessly. My men were trained well, and we functioned like clockwork with Quinten taking up point while the rest of us followed his lead.

“Lieutenant.” Nick’s voice broke the silence.

“What, Frasella?” I winced and scoped out the intersection we were about to cross. I did not want anyone coming across our recon squad. We were far enough from the Command Center that our voices would not carry, I hoped. In this place, sound carried.

“Who do you think they will make lieutenant since you are … you know?” Red crept into his face, and he shuffled his feet.

“About to breed the next generation?” I could barely keep the sarcasm from my voice.

“Yeah.” Even in the darkening twilight, I noticed the red in his cheeks. Nick was in many ways still too young for the mantle that had been placed upon his shoulders. We all were. With the enlistment age lowered to sixteen to swell our ranks, at twenty he was old by comparison. Although by his age I had already made lieutenant.

“I’m not sure. General O’Hare made Rick Sloan acting lieutenant until a decision is made. Though I don’t know that it will matter if the Council has someone else in mind.” And didn’t that just burn my gullet. Like the general thought highly of my input. Today had been an exercise in how little my opinion mattered.

“Oh.” He shifted his attention back to our trek as our company turned off Lower Thames Street onto Northumberland and plunged into a maze of buildings. We maneuvered, as we had hundreds of times, into ranger file as we passed corners stained with blood, buildings charred and bullet-ridden from prior battles. Most of the buildings we crept past were mere hollow shells, used for nothing more than defensive cover from our enemy. Otherwise, the general would have had them demolished years ago.

Who would the general promote in my stead? Certainly not Nick. He was far too green and did not comprehend what a position like this exacted from the bearer. I glanced at Ben as he secured the crossroads and waved us on through, sardonic grin across his face. Ben was too reckless. He would plunge into a nest of Efrits without having a clear strategy for escape.

That left Luke and Quinten. Both men were exceptional soldiers. Luke was the hero, though, the all-star golden boy who could do no wrong. The men he led were like devotees to a god and worshiped the ground he walked on. He was a sound candidate for replacing me. My only concern was that he took risks so he could play the hero. I did not believe it was a conscious action, more ingrained in his being. The problem was, when men’s lives were in your hands, the wrong decision could get them killed. And sometimes, it meant your decisions were second-guessed by others, but in my book if you could sleep at night over the choices you made, you did the right thing.

Quinten would be the best choice by far. He wasn’t a golden boy by a long shot. A very scrappy fighter, he had an intelligent mind that grasped situations often far beyond my understanding. He was calmer than the rest of them. I often considered him the scholar of the bunch. If our lives, and our world, had been different, I could picture him teaching a group of students in a university. When we were not training or on a mission such as this, he tended to be in a corner of the Tower grounds with a book he’d borrowed from the Council Library.

The five-mile route we chose would lead us far enough away from Cade’s squad. I knew the paths to the wall by memory. My life, all of our lives, existed within ten miles: the wall was no more than a five-mile radius from the Compound. The majority of the buildings we passed were vacant. People were not willing to live outside the confines of the Compound any longer. When I was a child, these buildings had held life, where presently they were nothing more than tombs. They stood as blatant reminders of all humanity had lost.

Quinten, on point, signaled a halt at the last mile before we reached our objective rally point. Sending my feelers out for energy signatures, I came across only ours. As we neared the rally point, Quinten stayed on lead, while Ben, Luke, and Nick fanned out in a two, six, and ten o’clock formation. I brought up the rear of our company.

Quinten motioned forward with a flick of his wrist, and our company crept along the final alley that led to the wall. At the corner, Quinten came up short and held up his fist. I signaled for him to move forward, and he shook his head no.

And that’s when I heard the clicking scrap of claws against pavement.

Bloody hell!

I needed to quit thinking about my impending motherhood and focus on the task before me. Otherwise, I would get my men killed. I dropped my shields, feeling for energy signatures. My internal siren blared code red at the sheer numbers in the alley. There had to be at least a dozen. I signaled the numbers to Luke and Ben with instructions to head back around and cut off the escape route for these things.

They nodded their understanding and took off down the direction we had come. This left me with Quinten and Nick. I caught Quinten’s gaze, the warmth I usually saw replaced with a steely resolve. He’d do well as lieutenant if the general passed him the mantle.

A silent conversation passed between us.

Nick and I will ambush them on this side. You watch our six.

Agreed.

I nodded my head at his assent. I trusted his judgment at defending our backs more than Nick. It was not that Nick was competent, he was, but he was young enough, and cocky enough to make fatal mistakes.

I signaled Nick, and he fell into step beside me as we rounded the corner and came face-to-face with a dozen Hathas, Drystan’s beefy foot soldiers, who stood over eight feet tall with arms the size of small trees. In the darkening twilight, their gray skin appeared spectral and made their black, razor-sharp tusks curling up from their bottom lips more menacing. With the way their tusks were formed, they always seemed to be growling, displaying rows of long, jagged teeth. When they saw us, they screeched and rushed toward us. The close confines of the alley made firing weapons unreliable at best. I unsheathed my long blade and attacked the brute nearest me.

I swiped at its midsection before it could place its hands on me. A trail of intestines followed in the wake of my blade. I heard Nick off to my right engaged with one of the beasts as I moved on to the next. New screeches emitted from the other end of the alley, and I smiled. Luke and Ben were silencing Hathas, too. These bastards would never get close enough to crush us.

The four of us dispatched all twelve Hathas while Quinten watched our backs for more that could be approaching. Ben and Luke met Nick and I in the middle of the pile of corpses. My sensors went haywire.

“Lieutenant,” Quinten shouted, pointing to the tops of the buildings sandwiching the alley.

My heart stopped.

Demons snarled from the rooftops, surrounding our scouting party. There had to be fifty of them at least, a mix of breeds. I spied Yathuri with their blood-red eyes trained on us, their claws jutting from their hands, Efrits with their elongated snouts openly hissing, displaying rows of gleaming fangs, and more Hathas. I heard the flapping of leathery wings and glanced skyward. The rising dark was obscured by the blackened bodies of Ahures.

Five against more than fifty. Even for a full squad, those would be crappy odds. I had to get my men out of there.

“Move,” I ordered.

The nightmare poured over the rooftops and onto level ground, surrounding our hunting party. We formed a circle with our backs to each other. There were too many to take down with hand-to-hand combat. I nodded at Quinten and the rest of my men switched to their assault rifles. We had to risk the close confines. My men opened fire.

I yanked my .45 out and began firing rounds. All thoughts of Cade, the Coven, and the rest of my wretched life emptied with every kicking reverberation of my side-arm.

The Ahures dive-bombed our little party with talons extended. They liked to play with their prey and would snatch their victim up, fly them a hundred feet or so in the air, before dropping them to their death. Sick fuckers liked their meals as liquid pulp. I dropped my shoulders as one missed me by a few inches.

“Shit!” Nick screamed, and I heard him go down. Was he dead? I glanced back and saw him holding his shoulder. Not dead, but the Ahure’s talons hurt like hell. The rest of us surrounded him as the demons caught scent of fresh human blood. Their actions became frenzied. I sensed their ever-present hunger. They thirsted for human blood the way we craved water.

Demon carcasses piled up around us, making movement difficult. If we stayed put, we would become this horde’s next meal.

“We need to leave the alley,” I bit out, striking my blade against a Yathuri’s throat when a bullet failed to stop its advance.

“Christ, Lieutenant, there’s nowhere to go, and we’re surrounded. How the hell do you want us to accomplish that?” Ben huffed out, protesting as he wrestled with a Hatha.

“If we can remove ourselves from the confines of the alley, we can toss a few grenades to clear out the rest,” I ordered, taking a page out of my father’s book. “Quinten, Luke, I need you to push our advantage forward to the street. Ben, grab Nick. I’ll bring up the rear. We need to move, now.” I commanded.

“Let’s do this,” golden boy Luke affirmed.

As a unit, we fought. Their green serpentine blood caked our features as we forced a demon retreat. A bullet caught an Ahure between the eyes, and its head exploded. Only fifteen feet until we reached the street.

We jostled forward, claws swiped and clutched toward me.

“Duck!” Quinten boomed.

Heat blasted me as a fireball careened past my head and exploded up against the building’s side. The flames snagged a few Hatha in the mix. Their dying screeches pierced my ears. It seemed a Feronte had joined the fray.

Oh, joy!

Our party pressed forward, firing at every demon in sight, until we emerged on the open street.

“Watch for friendlies.” I heard an all too familiar voice behind our company. We were no longer on our own.

By the gods this was bad!

“What the devil are you doing out here?” I swiveled my head from the melee long enough to spy Cade, with his platoon of soldiers flanking his sides. Some of his men had already engaged with the enemy and leaped into combat.

“Get your balls out of their vise grip and help us out,” I snapped. Man could take his rage and suck it up like a good little soldier.

Fury emanated from his solid frame as he engaged with a Yathuri. The look in his eyes told me in all of two seconds that there would be hell to pay for this jaunt. I had given him and the Council the proverbial finger. Would he cast me out and take me before the Council? A part of me hoped he would. Then I would at least be shod of him and good riddance.

I directed my gaze back to the two Ferontes who approached.

With no time left to consider the consequences, I jumped with my long blade, bringing the blade against the Feronte’s neck, and watched its head tumble to the ground. The second Feronte died before it could unleash a screech in my direction.

With the added help from Cade’s men, the remaining demons were exterminated with ease. Hands grappled me and yanked me from behind. Cade hauled me from the victory we had achieved here.

“You bitch.” He snarled, shoving me toward the building. Any opportunities for a civilized conversation evaporated the moment he put his hands on me.

Sheathing my blade, I fought like a cat about to be dunked in a bucket full of water, focusing all my wrath, all my indignity on him. How could he think he could bully me like this, and in front of our squads? It didn’t matter that I had been relieved of command, my men still respected me. I had been needed in this fight. I sucker-punched him with a right uppercut, and he responded in kind. It was no wonder I would never willingly submit my body to him. His left fist clipped my jaw, not really intending to hurt me, just stun me. It pissed me off more. I was not known for being level-headed, but his blatant mockery of my skills and feinting an actual rebuttal to my assault was like tossing a lit match on a powder keg. Any common sense in my body fled, and I went for his jugular. I pounded on his chest and beat him back.

If he was surprised by the brutality of my assault, his gaze never faltered. His only aim was to secure the prize he’d won by order of the Council. I wanted a knock-down, drag-out fight, until the last one was still standing, and he gave me the neutered version.

Sadistic fucker
.

I lunged forward with a kick that had brought down hulking demon brutes. Confidence bloomed that this parry would bring the smug bastard to his knees.

It did.

Except, then Cade withdrew from his pocket a small black device, no more than three inches long, and jabbed it against my exposed flesh through a tear in my pants. Volts of electricity sizzled and flashed throughout my body. It felt like thousands of nails being jammed into every inch of my body. I could focus on nothing but the searing, mind-numbing agony. The demon carcasses diminished, and I viewed the scene before me in a haze. Jaw clenched, I struggled against the anguish. My hands balled into fists as I collapsed on the ground.

Son of a bitch had Tasered me.

While my body trembled from the remaining electricity sizzling in my system, he hoisted me up, tossing me over his shoulder. His lengthy strides removed me from my men. And I could do nothing but clasp him more firmly as he spirited me away.