BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1) (40 page)

BOOK: BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1)
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Shift began unbuckling his belt.  "Guys, we need a pair of short swords, and... just more blades."

Blaec wrenched at his own belt, looking at the men around him.  "I want her covered in an arsenal, men.  Pikes, halberds, make sure they're her size.  Move!"

"Thanks," Sal said when she accepted the sword Blaec passed up to her.

"You're right, Sal.  I'll get the army moving; you bring them back, ok?"  He rested his hand on her leg.  "I was wrong, love.  You're better when you're a beast.  Come back to me?"

She buckled his sword across her back and nodded.  "I'll bring them home, Blaec.  We'll talk then."

"Black Widows has twelve men there, two are wounded.  Arctic thinks three of them are snipers.  They'll be looking for a pair.  Move fast."  He squeezed her leg gently.  "Be feral."

She nodded as the men returned, passing daggers and polearms up to her.  Halberd in hand, a bladed staff behind her, two swords hanging on each side of Arden's saddle, and about fifteen daggers placed across her and her mount, she couldn't fit any more weapons.  When she waved them off, the men stepped back. 

"Be safe, kid," Zep whispered.

Sal didn't answer; she just turned Arden and kicked. 

 

 

Chapter 47

 

 

Blaec stormed into the Command Room, the door slamming against the wall from the force of his entrance.  The Generals looked up, shocked and speechless when he grabbed a map from the wall.

"It's here," he said, throwing the map on the table and stabbing a finger at it.  "I need two units of heavy, one light, one mounted archers, and fuck... make that three heavy.  Infantry will never get there in time."

"What are you talking about?" an aged man asked, offended at the interruption.

"The metal bribe," General Sturmgren said softly, moving to Blaec's side.  "How'd you get it?"

Blaec shot a warning look at Sturmgren.  "My men were ambushed, but they got the intel out.  Black Widows are busy right now, so we have to move quick."

"Five units of mounted?" General Gabik asked.  "Ok, I'll send the orders down.  This intel good, Lieutenant?"

"It had better be," Blaec growled.  "I might lose two men over it."

"Ok then," Gabik agreed.  "We'll run some background and get the orders out.  I'll have the Captains report to you the day after tomorrow."

Blaec slammed his fist onto the map.  "I need them now!"

General Sturmgren rested his hand on Blaec's shoulder, gently.  "Lieutenant, the military doesn't move that fast.  112th is out east.  Devil Dogs are in the North.  You're down two in the Blades.  Think Azure can take it?"

Blaec shook his head.  "Mounted skirmishers, maybe.  Azure is foot.  Shadow Company?"

Sturmgren shook his head.  "With Lightning Brigade in Eastern Escea."

"Fuck."

The men in the room watched the exchange, hanging on each word.  Ran Sturmgren patted the Lieutenant's shoulder again.

"We may have been outplayed, Blaec.  Tell me what you know. Let's come at this a different way."

Blaec shook his head.  "I don't have time, Ran.  I have two men held by the Widows.  I have to get them out.  We need to start mobilizing before I get back."

"We need your intel, Lieutenant," General Maklan said.  "That's an order.  I know you hate losing men, but we need this intel."

"Who's out there?" Ran asked.

"Arctic and Cyno.  Sal's moving for extraction as we speak."

"Aren't those your iliri?" General Zorion asked him.

"Yes, sir."

Zorion waved it away.  "Then we need the intel more.  I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but you'll need to replace them."  He looked at Maklan beside him.  "Not like we don't have enough conscripts to give him more."

"We're all fucking iliri!" Blaec snapped.  "Haven't you figured that out by now?  That's why the Black Blades get shit done!  Because we're faster, stronger, and smarter than humans!  Now get me five mounted units by the time I get back – I don't care how you do it – and my iliri will save the Conglomerate again.  Don't, and we can't.  Clear enough?"

He shoved the map away from him, and stormed out of the room.

"Blaec!" Ran called after him, jogging through the swinging door.

Blaec turned, a snarl on his lips.  "Ran, don't fucking try to stop me.  I won't leave my men to die out there."

"Not what I'm gonna do," Sturmgren said.  "Lieutenant Doll, I order you to retrieve your men, in any way you deem necessary, and report to me when the mission is complete.  Understood?"

Blaec sighed and nodded, his gratitude clear on his face.  "I owe you, sir."

"Yeah, you do.  I'll try to fix the mess you just made in there, but I make no promises.  You just told the officer's council that your entire unit is iliran, you realize that?"

Blaec smiled coldly.  "I do.  It's about time they figured it out.  She was right."

"Good luck," Ran said.  "And I want to meet this new one you got.  She's put a little steel back in your spine."

 

 

 

***

 

It took less than thirty minutes to reach Yager's Crossing from Stonewater Stables, but each step of the trip felt like an eternity while Sal wondered if her friends still lived.  Her mind stayed silent.  Arctic hadn't even made an attempt to reestablish the link.  She feared the worst.  Her instincts told her to rush in, to see if they lived, to rip apart the men who tried to hold them captive, but Sal knew better.  When the road grew wider, she pulled Arden into the hills, circling around the cluster of farmsteads.  From the top of the highest rise, she could see the roofs below.

Yager's Crossing was quiet.  Too quiet.  No children played near the houses.  No dogs rummaged through the compost.  Every door and window was closed tightly even as the day grew warmer.  Inside, it would be stifling.

She moved away from the hilltop, not wanting her silhouette to be seen by the Black Widow Company.  They weren't fools, Sal reminded herself.  They may have been humans, but they weren't fools.  She found a cluster of trees and dismounted, looping a rein over a low branch to allow the mare to graze.  Working fast, she assembled the jakentron and buckled on two belts full of daggers.  Risk's fit her, but Shift's hung low across her hips on the tightest notch.  It would have to do.

Holding the pressure valve open, she made her way to the edge of the rise, falling to her knees before she could see over it.  When the hissing stopped, she dropped in a simple glass needle filled with a quick acting toxin.  Her gun loaded and ready, she crawled the last few paces to peer over the edge.  The hill dropped away into the back yard of someone's small cottage, offering a clear view of the three streets through town.

Her ears swiveling, seeking any hint of her enemy, Sal waited.  Her slit eyes caught each movement, from the sheets blowing on the line to the hummingbird flicking around a flower bed.  The town felt deserted, but she refused to move.

Her patience paid off.  She heard the creak of old hinges first, and her eyes darted to the sound.  The door cracked and a dark man peered through the gap into the empty streets.  From where she waited, she could shoot through the door, hitting him easily, but Arctic had drilled her long enough that while she could make the shot, she waited.  She wanted them outside, in the open, not hiding in the houses.

Seeing nothing, the Terran stepped out, moving slowly.  He kept his body in line with the building, limiting the angles of attack and watched his openings.  Step by step, he moved toward the center of town, his head looking between two buildings.

So now I know where they are,
Sal thought. 
Has to be one of those two.

When he moved to cross the street, she took the shot.  Leading her target slightly, she adjusted for the wind and the man's movement, giving plenty of room for the needle to drop.  The Terran soldier paused in the open to slap at the side of his face.  He found the glass shard, pulled it from his skin, and looked at it.  She saw his shoulders sag as the realization hit him, then the toxin took effect.  His body began to convulse and he screamed.  Loudly.

On the hill above, Sal moved, a cruel smile playing on her lips. 
That's for my brother,
she thought.

She opened the valve again.  The jakentron was an amazing weapon, but reloading it was slow and cumbersome.  She listened to the man scream while the gun filled and she relocated, unwilling to make two shots from the same perch.  Halfway around the next hill, the hissing stopped, and Sal grabbed another dart, loaded it, then crawled toward the ridge.  A large evergreen tree offered her a perfect vantage point. 

Her first victim was nearly dead, twitching and frothing in the street.  A second man crept toward him, trying to hurry, but unwilling to rush into the open.  Sal waited.  He reached the dead man and glanced around quickly before bending to check for a pulse.  She exhaled and pulled the trigger.  The needle hit and her prey stood, trying to rush back toward the larger house.  He didn't make it to the edge of the street before he, too, screamed and writhed.

She moved again, wondering how many she could pick off like this before they'd change tactics.  Circling back toward her mare, she hurried, trying to visualize the layout of the town from the backside of the rolling hills.  When the second man stopped screaming, she looked for cover.

This time there wasn't much.  A single jagged tree stump was the only thing breaking the ridgeline.  The smaller house lay directly below her, the larger just to her right but further back.  The two dead men lay framed between someone's home and what looked to be a store.  She couldn't be sure of her prey's approach from this angle, so she forced herself to breathe slowly and listen.  In the house below, voices murmured quietly, unaware she was able to hear them.

"Robson!  Looks like they sent a rescue party.  They're darting us as we cross the street!"

"That means they have snipers in the hills.  Take two and come up behind them.  If they're watching the cross roads, they won't be watching their backs."

"What about the damned scrubbers, Sergeant?"

"Four of you stay here.  Fucking beasts are known to be unpredictable."

"Gotcha.  You two, with me."

The back door to the house beneath her opened, and Sal pressed herself into the ground.  The Terran gestured and two men darted off, circling her, moving as silently as she would expect of an elite soldier.  She began to pull away from the hill when movement caught her eye.  A third man made an attempt to rescue his companions.  Sal aimed quickly and pulled the trigger, then crawled backward from the ridge.

Gaining her feet, she ran to her mare, disassembling the gun as she went, storing it in the leather bag.  Arden barely flicked an ear at her return, grabbing greedily at the grass while Sal shoved the jakentron into a saddle bag and gathered her reins.  Mounted, she pulled the horse away from the cluster of trees, putting distance between her and Yager's Crossing.

Her mind worked furiously while she made her way to another secluded grove.  She had assassins stalking her.  They would assume she was working with a partner, which would make them more cautious.  She preferred to think of it as timid.  They'd be looking for well-armed soldiers, gaps in armor, and properly placed snipers.  What they wouldn't expect was her.  Twining Arden's reins around the mare's neck, Sal stripped her armor, thankful for the warm weather.  She hung the swords on her saddle, stored her gear, then removed her clothing, as well.  All she needed was her steel blade.  Her ceramic dagger, the double bladed staff, and the two weapon belts she tossed over her shoulder.  Then, tucking her clothing under her arm, she moved back toward the small town, leaving her mare protected by distance.

Naked, Sal shifted her skin to match the land around her and rushed forward, moving from cover to cover, heading toward the back of that small farm house.  The sweet scent of her prey led on her on, but she wouldn't be foolish.  In the shadows under some scrub bushes, she hid her supplies and the long staff, then moved again.  Reaching a large tree, she pressed into the trunk, changing her skin to match.  On the other side, a breath gave away her enemy.

Sal waited for the man to take just one more step.

He moved around the tree and she pounced.  Her steel blade pierced the resin across his chest, the other sliced at his sword arm while her teeth closed on his throat.  Sweet, hot blood rushed into her mouth when she pulled back and the soldier died with a wet sound.  The bloodlust hit her, erasing her fears and replacing them with a desire for more while sharpening every sense she had.  Sal could feel the edges of the grass under her feet and the gentle breeze lifting her hair away from her back, but most of all, she could smell men.  There were two more and she wanted to watch them bleed.

She licked the blood from her lips, and moved.

 

 

 

 

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