Dark Huntress Page 10

  I grabbed a beer out of the fridge, took one sip, and couldn’t drink the rest. I wanted to talk to someone about all of this, to get another opinion, but who could I tell? I’d already taken a risk by opening up to Abri, and that was all the risk I was willing to take at the moment.

  I tried to prepare myself for my upcoming mission, spent a while staring at the photo of the Mark and the information that was limited to how to find him. I thought about the last Mark, the Nagah that had seemed to be waiting for me when I’d arrived, the one I’d had to strangle to death with my Calidi chain.

  The idea that the Superiors might be trying to get me killed was what made my stomach clench. The idea of betraying the Sisterhood, as Kieran was basically asking me to do by requesting my assistance with stealing Vida from the Academy, made me even more uneasy. The uncertainty of the future was overwhelming, and I was just trying to take things moment by moment.

  I needed to take care of this Mark, but first, I needed to eat, to bathe, to set my body at ease. I did these tasks and let the day pass, and when night fell, I put on my boots and jacket, gathered my weapons, and headed out to do the deed.

  This Mark took me four hours west, into the high hills of the neighboring state. The scents of salt and brine were replaced with those of mountain and pine. The land was as endless as the sea, green and rural. It was a refreshing change from the landscape of the city, and reminded me that the world was not just the bubble I lived in, that it was wide and vast and filled with mystery.

  The weather was pleasant enough for the motorcycle, the mist of the coastline fading behind me as I drew deeper into the less populated territory. As I neared the location of the Mark, dread began to turn in me again, the anxiety and doubt that had come in waves all day. I did my best to shove it aside, to steel myself, but there it was, nonetheless.

  I came upon field after field of hay and soybean, and indeed, the former was the location of the Mark. A soybean farm with a collection of bovine to one side, adorned with a red barn and a modest farmhouse in the center.

  I stowed the bike within some woods, concealed it as best I could, and found a vantage point to overlook the place. With the rolling hills of this area, it wasn’t difficult to do so.

  The sky was fading into evening, oranges and pinks and lavenders melting down the horizon. It was a striking scene, with the brilliant green of the hills, the stoic solidarity of the distant mountains, and the endless dwellings and farms taking up the space in between. I pulled out my binoculars as I lay on my belly on a hill overlooking the Mark’s location.

  I spotted him out in a field, reaching into my jacket and double-checking the accuracy with the picture I’d been provided.

  Yes. It was him. The person I was supposed to kill.

  No, the Mark I was supposed to kill.

  Tucking the picture away, I sat up a little to prepare my sniper rifle. A moment later, I was on my belly again, positioning myself just so, butt of the weapon tucked into my shoulder, legs angled for good balance.

  As I fixed the Mark in the sight, the final light of day leaked out of the sky. My finger hovered over the trigger.

  I told myself to pull it, to finish the damn job, but could not. There was no reason to hesitate. I was an excellent marksman, a surefire shot. The sooner I got it over with, the sooner I could go home and deal with the other things I needed to get my arms around.

  This Mark was no different than any other, I told myself. Nothing I hadn’t done many times before.

  I pulled my finger off the trigger and drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly, getting a hold on that nervous little monster that seemed to have taken up residence in my gut.

  Swallowing, I lined up the shot again. Commanded myself to pull the Gods damned trigger.

  Couldn’t fucking do it.

  The Mark turned toward the house, a smile lighting up his face. I watched through the sight of the rifle as a child ran out to him, a little girl of no more than five, with long brown hair and big brown eyes. The Mark scooped the girl up into his arms, laughing as she showered kisses upon his face.

  A woman approached who looked enough like the child to draw the relation. She also offered the Mark a kiss, her hand stroking her swollen belly. The Mark kissed her in return, grinning down at the swell, running his fingers over it.

  I lay on the hill, sniper stocked at the shoulder, finger hovering over the trigger.

  The Mark said something to the woman, and she gave him a final kiss before gathering the child and heading inside. He watched the two of them retreat with an amount of love in his eyes that I’d only ever glimpsed outside of my own existence.

  My heart slid up to my throat. I swallowed to clear it.

  Once the wife and child were closed inside, I quickly lined up my shot.

  And pulled the Gods damned trigger.

  The Mark’s head jerked back where the bullet struck, a fine spray of blood exploding into the air. His body dropped into the stalks of his trade.

  I packed up, made it back to my bike, rode all of ten miles before having to pull over and throw up.

  Luckily, the road I was on was dark and winding, and there weren’t too many travelers. I was able to make it far enough off the shoulder not to have to worry about being struck by another vehicle before the contents of my stomach spilled onto the grass.

  It didn’t stop until I was dry heaving, until there was nothing left to purge.

  I ran a shaky hand over my mouth, swiping at the involuntary tears that had accompanied the upheaval. I took several breaths to steady myself. After a little while, I hopped back on my bike and continued on to Carson City. I didn’t stop to throw up again, but I might have preferred it to dealing with the thoughts taking place in my head.

  Who was that man I’d just killed? What could he have possibly done to deserve the fate I’d dealt him? What kind of person did this make me?

  All dangerous, destructive questions. All against The Code. The very first tenant was Ask no questions.

  And, yet, there they were, along with more.

  What would become of the woman and child? What of the baby the woman had held in her womb? What would they think when they found he was missing? Because the Collectors would have already arrived to gather the evidence, and they would leave nothing behind. How would this affect these people, to have him just disappear from the face of the earth? Would they ever find a sense of closure?

  By the time I reached the loft, I could barely make myself go inside. I opened the door, grabbed a beer from the bridge, took one sip, and grabbed my keys and left again. I didn’t know where I was going until I ended up there.

  I stood outside the door of Kieran’s hotel room, telling myself to knock and not doing so, same as I’d told myself to pull the damn trigger, and my body had not obeyed.

  Until it had.

  I was just about to turn around and run away when the door to the hotel opened. Kieran blinked when he saw me, opening his mouth to say something, but shutting it again when he saw whatever look was on my face.

  He let out a sigh, his blue eyes searching my expression, and then he stepped to the side, waving me in.

  My throat was tight, my stomach still queasy from my actions. I didn’t know what to say, afraid of what words might come spilling out of my mouth if I dared open it.

  To my surprise, after Kieran closed the door behind me, he pulled me gently into his arms, wrapping them around me and holding me close. It was not a sexual embrace, nothing like those I was used to from most males, but rather, a soothing acknowledgement of my suffering.

  I shoved away from him, and the expression on his face revealed that he’d expected no less. I was a fucking Sister, Gods damn it. The last thing I ever needed was to be comforted. Especially not by a male.

  Furthermore, I didn’t need to know whom that Mark was, or why he’d been on the list of names I’d been handed. I didn’t need to know the details, the story behind it, the reasoning. I’d done something that did not feel go
od, that was bad, and I knew this the same way one knows they must have an illness when their body feels sick.

  And if killing this Mark had been a bad thing, how many times had my actions been a bad thing before?

  The worst possible answer to this question was, every damn time. My stomach lurched again and I had to place a hand there to steady it.

  Kieran waited in silence as I worked through this, as I came to a conclusion that had perhaps been inevitable all along.

  “I’ll help you,” I said. “I’ll help you break into the Academy and retrieve the child. We might die trying, but I can’t keep doing what I’m doing. Maybe this is my chance to make things right.”

  For his part, Kieran did not celebrate my acquiescence. His face simply remained sympathetic and maybe a little impressed. He looked at me, and did not shy away, did not pass judgment, did not pretend not to see.

  “Okay, Iliana,” he said, and placed his hands on my shoulders, as if to ground me. For whatever reason, I didn’t shrug them away.“Okay.”

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  And could only hope it would be.

  17

  I wasn’t going to kill another Mark.

  I just couldn’t.

  This meant that I had a week or so before the Superiors realized that I was no longer on their register. Maybe ten days before they came looking for me in earnest.

  Quietly, I began to make plans for my escape. Once it was done, once I failed to meet the next deadline they set for me, there would be no going back. They would know I’d deserted, would know where I stood.

  Every time I thought about punking out, about staying the course even if it was not what I wanted, the memory of the Mark standing in that field with his family resurfaced, and my resolve was strengthened anew. I couldn’t be sure when exactly, but a shift had taken place in me, and I couldn’t keep killing because it was killing me. The depression I felt over this last Mark lingered hard for a handful of days, and I worked to push it from my mind with great effort.

  I could not take back what I had done, but I could control what I did moving forward, and that was what I was going to do.

  Kieran was a surprisingly steady force beside me as I made plans to uproot my entire life and then break into a high security facility. I quietly gathered all the money I’d placed in various over the years. I’d never trusted banks, as I knew they were institutions that the Sisterhood had intimate access to, and this served me well. If I’d had accounts, and I’d gone and drained them all in one day, the Superiors would no doubt notice this activity and know something was up. In fact, the more I planned and organized, the more it seemed to me that some part of me had always been preparing for an exit.

  I visited all the people and locations I’d left stashes with, only realizing in making my rounds how many friends I’d made over the years. Grant, my computer whizz, had been stashing money for me for a while, as had three other people whom I’d grown to trust enough with such holdings. What was more shocking was the looks they all gave me as they handed over the money, as if…as if they were sad because they knew I must be leaving.

  Grant was no exception to this.

  We stood in his apartment, and he handed over the black bag full of cash that he’d let me stow in his air vents. I slung it over my shoulder and kissed him on the cheek.

  “So is this the last time I’ll see you, then?” he asked.

  I paused, adjusting the bag over my shoulder and tilting my head at the hint of sadness I detected on his face. “I’m not sure, really,” I replied. “Maybe.”

  Grant let out a low sigh, and on an uncharacteristic impulse, I pulled him into a hug. He was as surprised as me with this action, but he embraced me back, and I remembered the way Kieran had hugged me. It was astonishing to me how such a thing could secure a person, even if only for a moment.

  “You’ve been good to me, Grant,” I told him. “You deserve all the best things in the world.”

  His hold on me tightened, and he breathed the scent of me deeply, bringing a little smile to my face. “I hope it’s not the last time,” he said, “but if it is, I wish you very much the same.”

  I left his apartment feeling better than I had in days, not great, but better.

  The other stops I made were similar, if perhaps not as intense. It hadn’t occurred to me that over the time I’d spent living in Carson City, I’d inevitably met people who I’d formed bonds with, even though the Sisterhood always taught us to be lone wolves, rolling stones, feathers on the breeze. Later, I would come to the conclusion that this, along with so many other variables, had led me to the place I was now at.

  By the third day after I’d killed the Mark in the field and had showed up on Kieran’s doorstep, I had discretely arranged things and closer affairs, not that there were many with the life I’d been leading. The reality of the situation began to set in, and I staved off the anticipation by expressing my doubts to the Angel.

  Every time I did, I was met with understanding and reassurance.

  “The right thing is often the hardest thing to do, Iliana,” he’d say. Or, “You’re not alone in this. I’m beside you. We’ll save the child and find a safe place for you out of the Sisterhood’s reach. You can even come to CITY with us, if you like, and remain there as long as you need.”

  I didn’t tell him how much these things steadied me. I could hardly face the fact that I needed such steadying.

  On day four, I locked up the loft for the last time. I’d left everything behind save for the money, which I’d left at Kieran’s hotel, because I couldn’t risk the Superiors seeing me pack or stow such currency.

  As I closed it up for the last time, I looked up at the building I’d spent the last few years in, a permanent station I’d been more than glad to receive at the time, after traveling around the world for so many of the years prior. It felt like shedding a skin, like stepping out of a shell.

  On the outside, beyond the walls of that loft, a whole world of possibility was now open to me. I would never return to this very place, but perhaps that was better, perhaps I was meant to find another shell, and keep that one until it was once more time to grow. I’d always prided myself on my fearlessness, and I was determined to leap into this decision boldly, for there seemed to be no other way, but it didn’t mean it was easy. If anything, it highlighted the chinks in my armor that I’d spent so long pretending don’t exist.

  Any falter in resolve, and I need only think of the last Mark. My very last Mark, as it was decided.

  Kieran was waiting for me in an SUV around the corner when I left the loft for the last time. I opened the passenger door and hopped in, glancing up at the Angel when I felt his eyes on me.

  His handsome face searched mine, and I wondered what he saw there. “You ready?” he asked.

  “As I’ll ever be,” I said, and buckled myself in.

  The Academy couldn’t be reached by someone who did not already know where it was, as the part of the Veil that separated it was not something that could be detected.

  It would take ten days to cross the country by car and reach the entry point. That was just about the time it would likely take for me to receive another Mark, and subsequently miss the deadline and alert the Superiors to my absence.

  We took turns driving, so one could sleep while the other carried us on. During the hours we were both awake, there was nothing to do but talk, but since neither of us was particularly chatty, these conversations started out very stilted and slow.

  But ten full days in a car with someone will open doors that would have otherwise long remained closed.

  “I will admit,” he told me halfway through the third day, “I didn’t expect you to agree to help.”

  I was in the passenger seat, and I raised a brow as I looked over at him. “Really? Because you were pretty persistent in your pursuit.”

  Kieran glanced over at me and back at the road, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “A
s is my nature,” he said. “But what I’ve asked you to do requires a great deal of courage, and most people would run away in the face of that.”

  I recognized this for the compliment that it was, but felt strange about it. I had not thought of the situation in those terms, had not even considered such a perspective.

  “And you?” I asked, eager to divert the subject from myself, “I assume that whoever is over your head is on board with your mission?”

  “There is no one over my head,” Kieran said. “I served my time among the divine ranks, and left once I was done. When I was assigned the guardianship of the child, it came as a total shock, and if I’m being honest, I was reluctant to rise to the challenge.”

  “Really?” I asked, surprised by this because of how adamant he’d been about the whole thing.

  “Yes, of course. Time is different on the divine plains. I’ve spent what mortals would deem entire lifetimes fulfilling the duty that was given to me, being a soldier in the good fight. When I exited the ranks, I wanted nothing more than to live a simple life, to settle down, maybe pick up some hobbies. I’ve had enough excitement to last the rest of eternity. Then, all of a sudden, only a handful of years into that simpler life, I’m handed the guardianship. So, yes, really.”

  “So you just accepted the hand the Fates dealt you?” I asked.

  Kieran’s head tilted. “In some way or other, I suppose we all do…. Are you an exception?”

  My lips pressed together. We both knew I was not. I’d gone into the Academy a child, and had come out something else. I’d followed all the rules, because I’d known breaking them would only be more painful, at least in the short run. I’d learned all the lessons, all the tenets. I’d taken them to heart, and while there, they had created a core of stone within the vessel.

  Or so I’d thought.

  “I guess we all just do the best we know how,” I said.

  “Aye,” he agreed.

  I stared out at the passing landscape, lost in thought. The day was just turning to dusk, the sky melting into a soft orange blanket over the horizon. We rode through towns and smaller cities, across plains and over hills, crossing the country with a sure and steady pace that did not seem fast enough.