The Relentless Warrior (3 page)

“I was sleeping,” I whispered in her ear, using my most soothing voice. My hackles
had risen and inside I was eager to defend myself. But I kept my irritation where
it originated and stayed quiet. She needed me and I wasn’t here; that was the only
thing she could understand right now. So I wrapped her up in my embrace, even closer
than before and did my best to make up for my absence. “She’ll be alright, Liv. You
know she will be.”

“I
don’t
know that,” she sniffled, burying her face deeper into me, as if she could open a
door to my soul and crawl inside. She was tiny against me. At least eight inches shorter
than me, she fit perfectly molded to me; her body bent to mine naturally. Her hair
tickled my jawline as I bent to press a comforting kiss to the top of her head. We
were a bizarre pair, most of the time we stayed at each other’s throats, spurring
the other on to make this situation better by shouting at each other and barely restraining
the urge to rip each other apart. But there were a few times, like right now, when
I knew she needed me more than breath, when my friendship was all that mattered in
the world; in these moments we became the closest of allies.

“Yes, you do,” I reminded her gently. “She was much worse last night and she came
through it. It’s scary, but she’s strong Liv. And she has you. You won’t let anything
happen to her.”

She shook her head to let me know she agreed with me and snuggled in deeper. I leaned
against the wall to support the force of her. For such a little thing, she was so
strong and not just physically. She was a fighter and even I could be scared of her
at times.

I lifted my gaze to the room, but kept my cheek resting on the top of her head, because
I knew she wanted as much physical contact as possible. She just needed to be comforted
and that nearly broke me. Especially while her family, her real family and the people
that actually cared about her, were still off in America completely ignorant of their
daughter’s struggle for survival or the hell their children had lived through.

She had called home the day after we rescued her to check in with her family. They
hadn’t heard from her in weeks and were beyond anxious, but she soothed their fears
as best as possible. Apparently, it wasn’t strange for her not to check in. She was
something of a lone wolf, even at home. Now she called them regularly to keep them
updated on her and Ophelia’s change of plans. They never asked to speak to Ophelia,
so I wondered if they knew something was wrong and were just afraid to ask or if Ophelia
was worse at communication than even Liv.

My eyes scanned over Ophelia as her seizing receded and she let out a strangled whimper
before falling still on the bed. The Witch, who was the only other constant staple
to this room walked over to check her vitals, his billowing ivory robes flapping behind
him. I watched him for only a moment, familiar with the routine before I scanned the
rest of the crowd for Sylvia. She had been an important addition to the castle recently
and not just for Eden and her well-being but also for Ophelia. Even though it was
an Immortal issue, she understood the
human
body better than any of us.

My searching stopped when my gaze met Eden’s across the room. Her thick, insane mess
of black hair tumbled over her shoulders and her onyx eyes glittered with concern.
She was breathtaking. And I was afraid she would
always
be breathtaking…. that she would literally
always
steal my breath when she was near, that I would never recover from her.

A small, curious smile pulled at her full lips and I watched as her gaze dipped to
Olivia’s head in question. I shook my head as if to assure her it was nothing like
that, but she didn’t look convinced, which kind of irritated me. I had the absurd
urge to take Eden aside and assure her there had been plenty of girls between her
and now and that if I wanted Olivia I could have her. But obviously, that was irrational.
I would sound contrite and bitter, like I was using those girls to get over her, the
Queen.

And what would suck the most would be that it would sound like the truth…. That I
was just trying to get over her, trying to find someone,
anyone
that would replace the dynamite-sized hole in my chest our breakup had created.

But I still had my pride.

And Olivia. I would never do that to Olivia. Never. There wasn’t anything physical
between us other than the determination to make her sister better and get them home.
For some, unexplainable reason she had latched on to me through this whole ordeal
and I would never take that away from her. How could I when everything else had been
ripped out of her arms?

“Who’s that?” Olivia whispered against my chest. I looked down at her and followed
her gaze across the room only to realize she was talking about Eden.

Eden and Kiran had been back to the Citadel briefly after they were attacked in Omaha,
but Olivia had still been unconscious at that point. They had left almost immediately
to escort the nuns who were kidnapped by Terletov back to Peru and have a visit with
Gabriel before he took off to find Silas. From there they spent time with Kiran’s
mother before returning. Analisa was shut off from the world, recovering from years
of trauma with an abusive, bastard of a husband and hadn’t heard about Terletov or
the new baby.

The golden couple only recently returned to the castle, and introductions had yet
to be made. I looked down at Olivia to answer her question and almost laughed out
loud at the extreme distrust I registered in her expression.

“That’s the Queen,” I whispered against her disheveled head of matted hair. “I’m sure
she’s here to help.”

Olivia snorted sarcastically and I wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t believe
there was help for her sister or because she didn’t think Eden
could
help. Either way I found her amusing; she was such a firecracker.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Olivia asked, but it didn’t sound like a compliment.

I made a noncommittal noise and then put some space between us, suddenly not comfortable
with how wrapped up in each other we were with a room full of people watching us.
“Tell me what happened tonight, and how her seizure started.”

“Only if you promise not to leave again,” she demanded fiercely. I looked down at
her, taking in her steely expression and the way she pressed her lips together in
determination. She was a gorgeous girl, with pale, creamy skin that heated to a pretty
pink when she was angry, pouty lips that she was constantly mashing together making
them bright red to stand out even further against her softly milky skin. And if it
wasn’t for her huge, deep blue eyes I would have believed that she was completely
full of herself. But it was in those depthless cobalt orbs that I saw the myriad of
emotions that defined her and right now she was flooded with fear. Of course I would
stay, I was her friend, or at least her friend during this terrible time in her life.
If she needed me here, I had no place else to go.

“I won’t leave you again tonight,” I promised and the terror that was there before
dissipated into the briefest expression of relief.

I was tired and grumpy and completely overwhelmed, but that little bit of reprieve,
the little bit of stress I just removed from Olivia’s shoulders made certain that
sleep was not important.

Olivia needed me.

And I would give her what she needed.

Chapter Two

Olivia

I walked over to Ophelia once I came back from my shower and brushed her bangs out
of her eyes. She slept calmly again, and the tranquility on her face made her appear
angelic and peaceful.

I knew better.

My heart ached in my chest and my blood pulsed with fire from the remnants of what
they did to me- those horrible creatures, those
monsters
that kidnapped us.

My thoughts flashed back to the three minutes of stupidity that sealed our fates and
turned our world upside down.

And it was
all
my fault.

A Peruvian beer… in a Peruvian bar… I’d wanted the whole experience! Instead, we’d
walked into four guys that couldn’t stop leering at us. Of course, I had to make an
issue out of it.

If I would have backed down… If I would have taken O’s advice and just walked away.
If I would have let it go. Then where would we be? Enjoying the sights on the top
of mountains or maybe back home by now?

But that wasn’t me.

I didn’t let things go and I didn’t back down.

Besides, after seeing what these freaks of nature could do, I didn’t think my actions
mattered. They would have been able to catch us no matter how fast we ran or how determined
we were to get away. We fought as hard as we could, but in the end they were superhuman,
they were…. mutants.

And we were just… nothing special.

Normal.

Human.

Unlike our attackers.

And unlike the people that now held us in this outdated, Dracula-esque-circa-Middle-Ages
castle. Even though they were kind, even though they seemed to want to help, they
were still inhuman and part of this weird freakish alternate universe. How could I
ever really trust them, when they were just like the people that tortured us, held
us captive and changed us? Ophelia was comatose and violently ill. And I was…. different.
They did something horrible to me; something I feared was irreversible.

I would never be the same again, and it was because of these people.

“See? She’s alright,” Jericho murmured next to me. We were alone in the room after
I’d kicked everyone else out once I returned from getting clean. Everyone except him,
because he’d refused to leave. Typical.

I felt his presence linger over me; he was everywhere. His body heat seeped into my
back, his large, masculine hands rested on my shoulders; his aura seemed to eat up
every bit of air in the atmosphere that filled the space we occupied. He was this
dichotomy of everything I loathed and the one constant thing in my life that felt
real…. that felt safe.

The
only
thing that felt safe.

At the same time he sucked every last breath from my lungs with his unnatural skillset
and cult-like community, he seemed to breathe it right back into me, filling my chest
with reassurance and hope. And in the exact way my emotions walked the same thin line,
teetering between trusting him completely and running as far from him and his bizarre
world as fast as I could.

Which, in my current, volatile state, wouldn’t be very fast.

But it was he that kept me here. It was because of him that I stayed.

“For now,” I finally agreed.

“Hey,” Jericho turned me toward him and I stared into those deep hazel eyes and stifled
a shiver of paranoia. I hated that he seemed to see too much, as if my thoughts and
emotions were laid bare for him to browse through and manipulate in any way he wanted.
He promised he couldn’t read minds- although he said there was some of his kind that
could. I didn’t really believe him. He always seemed to see more of me than I wanted
him to. “We’re going to get her through this, Olivia. I’m not going to let anything
happen to her, I promise.”

I looked away from him, afraid he would see just how much that promise meant to me-
just how much I couldn’t allow myself to trust him.

“And you’re the guy that keeps his promises, aren’t you?” I stood up and put space
between us. I ignored the confused look that crossed his face and changed the subject
before he could ask me any questions. I didn’t exactly resent him for being a good
guy- although sometimes I wished I could. He was too good. Too perfect. I wanted to
hate everything about this place, as much as I hated getting abducted, as much as
I detested what those men did to my sister and me and as much as I hated the foreign
entity now living in my blood. I wanted to hate everything and everyone that represented
the horror of the last several weeks. But then there was Jericho with all his thoughtful
gestures and concerned authenticity.

He screwed with my angsty, die-hard obsession with revenge.
 

He made it impossible to continue hating the mutants with that stalwart bitterness
I’d worked so hard for.

Damn him.

“Her color looks better today,” I gestured with a shrug of my shoulder. “She seems….
pinker.”

“I agree.” He looked down at my sister with the affection of a human being that actually
knew her. He didn’t though; she’d been unconscious ever since he picked us up in Peru.
But this wasn’t the first time I’d seen him look at her like that… like he’d do anything
for her… like she was his responsibility. He continued on after a few moments of staring
down at my gorgeous-even-on-her-death-bed sister. “I’ll have Syl look in on her in
a little bit.”

“Don’t bother,” I answered quickly. “We’ve been here before. I don’t want to get my
hopes up. It’s just her color. We’ll call the good doctor in when something really
happens.”

He frowned down at me, and the corners of his eyes lost that happy crinkle I was kind
of obsessed with. “Alright,” he nodded. “But a change in her color is something really
happening.”

I rolled my eyes. “For all we know she could be on her way to turning purple.”

He chuckled at my joke but quickly narrowed his eyes and grew serious. “You know none
of us are purple, right?”

I raised my eyebrows at him, and met that hazel gaze. “I am not ruling out anything
at this point.”

Jericho stalked over to me- a feral animal on the hunt for his prey. He was two parts
refined gentleman, one part primal savage. I wondered what happened in his life to
make his nice, clean edges so ragged and frayed. Most of the time he was the kind
of guy that always came through for his friends, the one that treated women with respect
and obeyed traffic laws. And then something would slip from his meticulous veneer
and I would catch glimpses of a man on a ledge- a lost, wild barbarian that stared
down the side of a rocky cliff debating his chances of surviving the jump, knowing
he would free fall anyway.

I didn’t know how to explain it, but I knew something floated beneath his sophisticated
surface. Something I wanted to discover, investigate, explore in depth until he was
no longer a mystery to me, until I could reconcile the feelings of absolute safety
that ballooned inside me whenever he was near and the contrasting feelings of nervous
energy that always seemed to buzz back and forth in my blood like bumble bees.

Jericho laid his hands down on my shoulders, cupping the bone with his strong, masculine
fingers. A current of hot, electrified energy hummed just below my skin and I forced
myself not to flinch at the contact. I was steadily growing used to this whenever
another one of Jericho’s kind touched me; but the unpleasant feeling seemed to shock
me first and then settle into a tolerable vibration.

“Not all of us are scary, Olivia,” he murmured in a low, rumbling voice. “Not all
of us want to hurt you.”

I met his hazel gaze and tilted my chin defiantly. “It’s enough that some of you want
to hurt me.” I shook my head quickly when he opened his mouth to argue. My blonde
bob bounced around my face and stuck to my lips. “Some of them already have, Jericho.
Or, er, not me. But they’ve hurt my sister and that’s enough for me. “

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he promised. “Or your sister.”

I walked away from him again. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Ok, seriously, Jericho,
stop with the good guy stuff.”

I felt his scowl all over my back, since I refused to look at him and because it was
so palpably strong. Was this another one of his super powers? Scowling people to death?

“What is this? Trust issues?” he scoffed from O’s bedside.

I barked out a bitter laugh and spun around to face him, “Are you kidding me?
Of course
these are trust issues! I was abducted, Jericho! Lunatics ran experiments on me!
And now you want me to believe, that even while you can do everything those monsters
could, you are the good guy! Can you even imagine what this is like for me? You’re
basically an alien! And you’re holding my little sister’s life in your hands. The
smartest thing I can do right now, is not trust you. Stop asking me to.” My enthusiasm
dwindled to a helpless plea and I hated the irony that I was essentially trusting
him with my emotions whilst asking him not to make me trust him.

Gah!

Boys were confusing no matter what species they were.

“I’m nothing like the men that kidnapped you, Olivia,” he growled back and took three
steps towards me. “And I’m not asking you to trust me, I’m telling you to. I’m the
only thing you got, woman. And I have been nothing but generous and accommodating!
Do you think I like staying here? That my long-term goals include this godforsaken
castle and playing nurse? There are other things I should be doing. At least you’re
alive! At least Ophelia is
alive
! I have loved ones out there too right now. People I care about that have been kidnapped
and are undergoing exactly what you went through or worse. Only, I don’t know if they
will survive or not! I should be out there! I should be hunting them down! Not here,
trapped in the exact place I never wanted to be again, listening to some human scream
all her daddy issues at me!”

Probably I should have listened to everything he said and cooled down. Instead, I
lost my mind just a little bit. “These are not daddy issues! My dad is perfectly fine
and normal and my childhood was
fine
and
normal
. And my adult life until four months ago was fine and normal! It is
you
I have issues with! You!”

And then I dissolved into a heap of tears on the floor. My hunched over my knees,
curling them to my chest as if I could pull my body inside an invisible protective
shell. My usually-voluminous short hair hung limp in front of my face, plastered to
my skin with snot and tears. I covered my face with my hands in order to shield myself
from Jericho’s angry eyes, but I couldn’t shake my awareness of him, of my body’s
constant acknowledgment of his presence.

My chest heaved and stuttered with racking sobs, my shoulders convulsed, my body trembled.

Let’s be honest, I was a hot mess with an audience.

This was officially the lowest point in my two decades of life so far.

“Don’t do that,” Jericho groaned exasperatedly. “I’m trying to stay pissed at you!
Stop crying
.”

Which, of course, only made me cry harder.

“Don’t fight me,” he bit out at the same time he swooped me up into his ridiculously
muscled arms.

The thing was, I wanted to fight him. I really wanted to punch him. But I was crying
too hard to have complete control of my motor functions. I’d turned into a human-sized
puddle and I didn’t know how to solidify my body again.

He stomped over to the couch on the far wall. Through the cracks in my fingers and
blurry vision I watched him kick away the blankets and sheets that usually made up
my make-shift bed. There was some cursing involved when his motorcycle-booted foot
got caught in the tangle of linens; there was some definite Magic as he flung them
across the room and extracted his foot with careless ease. He slumped down to the
springy seat with the temperament of a three-year-old child having a tantrum and fitted
me against his chest like a mother bird.

This boy, so full of contradictions, so at odds with everything in himself, was
pissed
at me- and yet he was comforting me.

His hand tangled into the back of my hair and stayed there, forcefully keeping my
head against his rapidly beating heart. His thumb traced soothing patterns on the
nape of my neck and his other hand gripped my waist with two parts out-of-place possession
and one part fear.

My tears slowly subsided as I tried to make sense of the boy humming softly next to
me, the vibrations of his body pulsating under me. I sniffled into the sleeve of my
long-sleeved t-shirt and unashamedly wiped away the dripping snot.

“Who are you Jericho Bentley ?” I whispered against the thump-thump of his heart.

A derisive laugh pushed against my body and I fought the strongest but most irrational
urge to wrap my arms around his neck and comfort him this time.

“I’m not the good guy you think I am.” He turned his head to the side and swallowed
loudly.