Winter's Legacy: Future Days (Winter's Saga Book 6) (30 page)

BOOK: Winter's Legacy: Future Days (Winter's Saga Book 6)
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6
8 Trial by Battle

 

Meg broke into a sprint as she headed east.  She sensed the first enemy guards well before she saw them and mentally forced them into a deep sleep.  The next group was even louder in thought and easier to silence.  So by the time she reached the enemy camp, she could walk right up to the central command base tent.  She parked her hands on her hips and spoke in a loud voice.

“Arkdone!  Williams!  Come out so we can talk.”

The entire camp began scurrying like ants on a disturbed hill.  Faces with mirrored expressions of surprise and curiosity peered from tents.  Hurried murmurs drifted to Meg’s ears as she waited. 

It didn’t take long.

“Meg, how good of you to come visit!” The sickening syrup in Kenneth Williams’ voice smacked with delusions of mutual affection.  His three-piece suit looked slightly rumpled.  The red shirt and neck tie looked to have been hastily straightened.  His skin had returned to its sickening state of raw, bloody cracks.  Meg tried not to stare at the chunks of flesh around his chin flapping loose as he spoke.

“Williams,” Meg acknowledged coolly.

Arkdone emerged gracefully from his side of the large tent. “Miss Winter.  You’ll forgive us for not having properly greeted you upon your arrival.  It is a rather unusual hour of the morning to stop by, but—where are my manners?  Would you care to come inside for a cup of coffee?”

“No.  I do however
, have a proposition for you.” She looked from Arkdone back to Williams.  “For
both
of you.”

Williams reached into his pocket for his spheres. 

Arkdone clasped his hands behind his back.  “I’m intrigued.  Aren’t you Dr. Williams?”

“Hanging on every word,” he nodded. 

Meg forced herself not to focus on his choice of words even as she pulled her eyes away from his melting face.  A face that resembled a Salvador Dali painting.

“My proposition is this: both sides choose a champion.  You two decide on one soldier who’ll represent your interests and my side will do the same.”

“That is pretty, but there is no way—” Arkdone began.

“What are your terms?”  Williams interrupted, holding his open palm out to still Arkdone’s tongue.

“If our champion wins, you lay down your arms, leave Texas with willing soldiers—and allow anyone who wishes, to stay in peace.  You will further agree to never, ever make contact with any of the Winter Clan, ever again.”

“And if
our
champion wins?” Arkdone’s black eyes glistened.

Meg flinched, swallowed hard, then nearly whispered.  “If your champion wins, the ground will split open and swallow us whole.” Her voice was haunted by the gravity of the truth she spoke.

“Poetic, but not at all precise,” Arkdone sneered, all pleasantries shoved violently to the side.

“If your champion defeats ours
, we will comply in turn.  We’ll lay down our arms against you and your endeavors.  You’ll never hear from us again, ever.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“What more do you want?”

Arkdone’s movements were so rapid, Meg barely followed his blurring trail as he darted toward her and leaned down to hiss into her face.  “Blood.”

Meg nodded slowly, refusing to let the demon’s eyes bore holes through her soul.  “You’ll have your blood.  Every last drop of mine,
but only mine.
  After I see all of my family and our allies allowed to leave peacefully, I’ll leave with you—submit myself to your hands.  All I ask is that you return my body to my family so they will know not to keep searching for me.”

“With you gone, what would stop them from breaking your bargain and resuming their quest to interfere?”

Meg shrugged, “Record me explaining the terms of this agreement.  I’ll make it clear to them they are not to seek revenge else the terms of the agreement are void.  They’ll be incensed, but will comply.  Too many lives are at stake not to.”

Arkdone exchanged looks with Williams who had stepped forward to stand beside him enjoying the battle of wills.

“That sounds fair,” he cooed in her ear.  He slipped his glove off his bloody hand and reached out to stroke Meg’s dark curls as they tumbled recklessly down her back. 

“How do I trust you to hold your end of the bargain when you’ve only ever shown me duplicity?”

“Simple,” Meg narrowed her stare, enunciating each word clearly.  “I choose myself as champion.”

Arkdone threw his head back, his laughter echoing off inanimate objects strangled by the
predawn’s shadowy light.  As though nature herself had been gagged and duct-taped, the world hung in abject horror.

Meg barely breathed.

“Funny you should say that, child.”  He glanced to Williams.  A conspirator’s smile pulled at the corners of his aristocratic mouth.  “Funny because we have chosen our champion, too.”

“Have we?” Williams looked up and blinked, genuinely interested in the conversation.  His attentions had been diverted by the sensation of Meg’s supple curls wrapping around his fingers.

“We have,” Arkdone smirked in Meg’s face.

“Who have we chosen?”

“Why, me of course.”  Arkdone’s humor died instantly.  “It only seems fair,” he added.  “She can’t use her mind manipulation on me, nor can she order anyone else to aid her in her battle with me,” he grinned demonically, “because that would be against the rules.”  He prowled slowly around her, so close she could feel his black tar-like aura assaulting her psychic senses.

“I propose we dispense with the firearms,” he motioned to her guns. 

Meg looked around at the faces of the soldiers surrounding her.  Their weapons glistened in the starlight.

“And what of those firearms?”

Arkdone nodded, “Of course,” he raised his hands and spun to address the awestruck audience that had formed.  “This fight is only between the girl and me.  No one is to intervene at all.”

“How exciting,” Williams chirped, “my Meg a contender in her first Retribution Match!”  He clapped his hands excitedly.  “I’ve been waiting
years
for this!”

Arkdone glanced over at his clearly demented cohort.  “When this is all over, Kenneth, you may need to take a vacation at my hospital for a while.  It would do you some good.”

The delight in Williams’ eyes snapped.  Instantly the bloody-faced scientist snatched off his joker’s mask and stared at Arkdone with dead eyes.  Meg saw his aura swarming with black locust.

“Tread carefully, Donovan,” he spat, barely containing the violent undercurrent behind his words.

Arkdone rolled his eyes.  “Just offering.”

He turned his attention back to Meg, “Now, where were we?  Oh, yes.  Well, in the true spirit of your Retribution Matches, neither of us should have access to any weapons.  Isn’t that right, Dr. Williams?”

“Hand-to-hand combat only.  Kill or be killed.” Williams repeated the well-known rules robotically. 

Arkdone spread his arms wide and spun slowly for Meg’s inspection.  “I’m completely unarmed, but if you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to come pat me down yourself,” he added suggestively.

Meg grimaced at the thought.  Instead, she began quickly removing her weapons.  Michelle Andrews sauntered up to her and held out her arms.  “Allow me to hold these for you.” 

Meg hesitated before surrendering her weapons belt across to the hated metamonarch. 

“It’s the least I could do.  For old time’s sake.”  Michelle pinched her face in a disgusted version of a smile.

Meg felt herself close to reaching out with her mind and tearing the wretched woman’s psyche to pieces for the part she played in this violent game, but she resisted.  She knew she had to save her strength. 

Once she’d completely disarmed herself, Michelle huffed haughtily and walked away with Meg’s things—a disgusted look clearly in her expression.  “I’ll be sure to send your things back to your mother when you’re dead,” she added over her shoulder.

“Stay out of this, Michelle,” Williams warned.

Arkdone had been circling Meg, as though inspecting for himself that she was truly unarmed.  “Wait.  Do you hear that?”  He stopped in his tracks and tipped his head, as if listening to the night sky.  “Yes, I do believe the birds of carrion have come to roost.  It’s a good night to be a kettle of vultures waiting to wake.”

Meg fought the urge to shudder.

And lost.

6
9  First Blood

 

“Are you sure you want to play gladiator?”  Williams had donned his fatherly mask again.  His voice dripped with tenderness.  “Truly, I wished for so much more from you, daughter.  It’s not too late.  Just say the word and I’ll stop the hands of time for you,” Williams walked toward the wide-eyed girl until he was a mere inches away from her.  Meg held perfectly still, refusing to play into his delusional world.   He reached out to touch the face that looked so much like his beloved June’s.

“I have seen a lot of needless death in my seventeen years, too much death.” Meg’s strong voice belied her terror. 

“I’m a toy to you—to smash against the wall, to drag in the dirt by the hair or even milk for blood at your whim.  I was bred for spare parts.”  Meg shook her head in disgust and stepped back from both men.

“And you dare to try to lay hands on the one person on this earth who risked everything to show me love?   A woman who taught me right from wrong, modeled devotion and faith?”  Meg squared her shoulders and leveled her gaze at the monsters standing before her.


I’ll
stop the hands of time.  I’ll rip them off and use them to skewer you until your last sick breath escapes.”  Her fingers twitched hungrily.  “I have seen a lot of needless death, but today is different.  No one else needs to be a part of this bloodbath.  Your people, my people—we leave them out of this.” Meg spread her arms wide at the shocked faces of the metamonarchs and metahumans who formed a wide ring around the three. 

Her voice carried to every soldier at the makeshift base. 

“This day all the innocent souls of those who have suffered and died by your hands will be avenged.  Today I take back the lives you’ve stolen.”

Meg pushed her chest out as she pressed toward the two monsters.  “I’ll start with you,
Senator
and end with
you
,” she up-nodded at Williams.

Arkdone, who had been leisurely rolling his sleeves up, sneered as he started clapping, loudly.  “Well said, Meg,” he called over the noise of his own applause. 

Williams smiled a toothless, grin at Meg with an inappropriate look of fatherly pride in his dead, shark eyes.  

“My Meg’s got spunk, Donovan.  She got that from me, you know.”  He chuckled and shook his head. 

“Shut up!” Meg barked.  “You know nothing about me or what I believe,”  Meg clenched her fists, widened her stance and leaned as if pushing against a gale storm.  “But before this is over, you will have learned.”  She hissed the last promise just loud enough for the evil twins to have heard.

Meg felt a surge of psychic power tingling throughout her body, threatening to burst.

“Oh, are you done grandstanding?”  Arkdone feigned boredom and allowed his head to loll toward Williams.  “She got
that
from me.” He shrugged innocently.

When he turned around
, he led with the back of his hand.

Smack!

Meg’s face exploded in pain, the skin over her right cheekbone sliced by his thick diamond ring.

“You’ve become so dependent on your psychic gifts, you’ve grown soft,” Arkdone taunted as he picked slivers of torn flesh from his ring.  “You’re going to have to step it up, Meg.  You
’re supposed to be your ‘family’s’ champion!” 

Caught off guard, Meg reeled clutching her burning cheek.

“Now, now, Senator,” Williams chastised, “the match doesn’t officially start until the Retributioners are told to begin.”

Meg blinked hard against the stars overlaying her vision in her right eye.

“Hadn’t we done that?”

“No.”

“My apologies, Miss Winter.  To be fair, you may strike me once and I will not move to defend myself.”

Meg rolled her shoulders.   The rapt audience collectively stepped back allowing a wider b
erth for the fighters.  

Meg leaped into the air and spun and landed a solid roundhouse kick to the side of Arkdone’s face.  She landed in her fighting stance in time to see him fall hard to the ground, landing face down.

A collective gasp echoed through the otherwise silent crowd.

Arkdone pushed off the ground and stood slowly.  He dusted the leaves off himself casually before swiping at his split lip.  He cast a dark glare at Meg before spitting blood into the grass beside him.

“Shall we begin?” he said coolly.

 

70 The Coydog

 

Margo had been watching for them through her bedroom window.  As their headlights drew closer, Margo’s heart soared with hope that everything would be all right.  Once they were together, they would be all right.  As the vehicles slowed, showing caution near the IEDs Meg had planted, Margo burst from her room, ran down the corridor, flew past 17th Company milling around her great room and threw open the front door of her house.  She ran toward the moving SUV and laid hands on the driver’s side window as it came to a jerky stop.  Theo crammed the gear into park and flung the door wide open.

Instantly, Maze jumped over him and landed gracefully in the gravel.  He sniffed the air first and whined nervously. 

Ignoring the coydog, Theo hurried out of his seat to wrap his arms around the woman who carried his heart with both hands.   Relief flooded them as they held each other. 

“Thank God you’re here!”  Margo’s voice quivered with adrenaline.  She kissed him on the lips quickly before turning to see Cole, Sloan,
Kylie and little Danny clamber out.  “I’m so happy to see you all!”

Danny came running up to Margo, arms spread wide.  “Mommy!”

“Come here, my sweet Danny Boy,” Margo scooped the little boy into her arms.  That’s when she noticed Maze.

“What’s wrong with Maze?” she asked Theo.

Maze was pacing nervously.  He alternated sniffing the ground and air and holding perfectly still to listen with his sharp ears.  He stared due east and whined loudly.

“I don’t know.  He’s been acting strangely for about twenty minutes.  I thought he just had to find a patch of grass.”

“Something’s wrong,” Margo frowned as she followed Maze’s intense stare toward eastward.

“Maybe he just needs to see Meg,” Cole suggested through a yawn.  “Is she inside?” Cole asked.

Rhett Hays walked past the family toward Valen and Nate who flanked the front door protectively.  “Has Miss Winter returned?” he asked Valen.

“Sir, no sir.”

Margo’s head whipped around.  “What?  What do you mean ‘returned’?  She’s in her room.”

Valen checked her watch.  “Miss Winter left thirty-two minutes ago, Dr. Winter.”

“Where did she go?” Margo felt a wave of nausea and gripped Theo to steady herself.

“She only said she was ‘going out for a bit’ and refused an escort,” Valen explained.

Maze’s whining stopped abruptly. 

Margo’s watched the devoted coydog take a long, sorrowful look at the family he spent his life protecting before he lowered his head respectfully.  Turning, he sniffed the air once more and broke into an all-out sprint
eastward.  His thick paws struck the ground powerfully as he propelled himself into the predawn light.

“Maze?” Margo called after him. “Maze!”

Margo was already passing Danny back to Theo. 

“Hays, the battle has already begun.”  Margo locked eyes with the soldier.  “I need an eight-man team to come with us,
now!

“Copy that, ma’am.”  Hays narrowed his eyes with understanding and began barking orders into his throat mic.

“Cole, go wake the others! 
Run!

“Theo,” Margo whipped around to look at the man who was her rock.  “I have to—”

“I know you do.  Go finish this, Margo.”  He pulled her into a one-armed hug, Danny occupying the other. 

“Pray for us?”

“Always.”

A truck pulled up beside them.  A line of fully-armed soldiers began hurdling themselves into the back. 

“I love you,” Margo whispered against Theo’s lips. 

“I love you, too.” Theo lifted her chin to kiss her tenderly.

“That better not have been a goodbye, kiss.”

Theo smiled through his tear-filled eyes.  “Marry me?”

Margo blushed and grinned.  “Can I finish this first?”

“Okay, but make it quick,” he forced himself to smile through his fear, for her sake.

“Ma’am, we’re ready when you are.” Hays stood at attention, fully armed and ready for battle.

“I couldn’t ask you to leave your Company, Hays.” Margo motioned to his holstered weapons.

“Ma’am, I have excellent seconds in command.  Nate Townsend will hold the fort.  Valen Springer will come with me and the team.”

“I’m grateful to have your help,” Margo nodded, acknowledging his personal sacrifice.

Creed bolted from the front door wild-eyed.  “Where is she?” he demanded, still strapping on his weapons belt.  Alik, Evan, Farrow and Cole spilled from the house on his heels.

“I think she’s gone to the enemy camp.”  Even saying the words made her cringe.

“Why would she do that?” Alik looked enraged.  His frame began expanding with every breath.  Those in 17th Company stared at his transformation with gaping jaws.

“Because she’s Meg.”  Margo threw her hands up in exasperation and jumped into the front passenger seat of the truck.

“Move!” she barked at everyone. 

Creed, Alik, Evan, Farrow and Cole jumped into the back of the truck with the other soldiers.

Hays navigated his way through the explosives carefully before turning due east.  He drove as fast as the off-roading would allow.  The slow, bumpy pace was driving Margo insane. 

“Did she really decide to take on the whole battle herself?” Rhett Hays ventured to ask.

Margo’s jaw was locked in equal parts fear and fury.  “Yes.”

“Is she that powerful?”

Margo took a deep breath, trying to calm down before she answered.  “She’s powerful, but can she defeat an army of seventy by herself?  No.”

“Then why would she do this?”

“Every choice that girl has ever made is based on her love for her family.  She thinks she can end this battle before anyone else gets hurt or killed.”

“That’s crazy!”

“That’s Meg.  She leads with her heart.  She always has.”

Rhett just shook his head, scowling.  “She may have wanted a more peaceful ending, but this is going to be a bloodbath.”  He slammed his palm against the steering wheel.

“You have such little faith, Rhett,” Margo spoke just above the roar of the truck plunging up and down the uneven terrain.  “She may make rash decisions, but she is a fighter—a brilliantly skilled fighter—with more courage in a lock of hair than anyone who’ll meet her on the field of battle.”

Rhett glanced at the legendary Dr. Margo Winter and shook his head.  “Courage is going to get her killed.”

 

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