BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1) (41 page)

Chapter 48

She skirted the trees, keeping the last two men in sight.  They were intent on the ridgeline, scanning each bush for signs of her passage, unaware that she wasn't the prey, but the predator.  The smaller of the two shoved his sword into a shrub quickly, glancing over at the other when it encountered nothing more than branches.  The larger man glared and held his finger to his lips, his other hand gesturing in signals only the Black Widows knew.

They split up.  The smaller man moved to the right, and Sal paced him quietly from the shadows.  Keeping well back, she used the terrain to her advantage.  When the scent of the other no longer filled her nose, she made her move.  Her skin colored like grass, she crawled toward him, pausing each time he stopped.  Like a cat stalking a mouse, she crept ever closer, her knives pressed close to the ground, their blades hidden in the weeds.  She flicked her ear back the way she'd come, checking to be sure they were truly alone, and then she struck.

Rushing forward, Sal covered the distance in four strides.  At the sound of running feet, the man turned.  She snarled when she swung.  The steel blade dove deep into his chest and the ceramic sliced at his face, cutting his mouth open.  He tried to scream, but Sal shoved her hand over his mouth, muffling the sound.

"Just fucking die already," she snarled, yanking the steel blade out, just to shove it back in.  This time she hit his heart.

With a strangled gasp, he lay still.  Her ears flicked again, and she moved.

Sal circled back, breathing deeply.  She wondered if the last man realized why the army put so much emphasis on hygiene.  The pungent scent of stale sweat and moldy cloth lead her right to him.  He stared at the ground beneath the large evergreen tree she'd used for cover.  Bending lower, he touched the dirt, a scuff in the leaves the only sign of her time there.

"So, they teach you how to track?" she asked.

He jumped like a startled mouse, spinning in place.  Sal stood before him, naked, her skin its true white.  She flipped the steel dagger in her hand and smiled.  His eyes widened at the sight of her teeth.

"Yeah," he said, leaning against the tree, glancing across the ridgeline before looking back at her.  "Terric gives us some pretty good training.  You?"

She smiled.  "I hear about twice as well as you and I can smell you a kilometer away."  She scratched at the tip of her ear with the point of the blade, taunting him.  "So, you kill my brothers yet?"

He shrugged.  "Dunno.  The one's pretty bad off.  Guess they don't sedate so well.  We know you beasts have tricks, though, and it all links back to him.  Arctic, I think is his call sign?"

Sal nodded.  "Yeah.  What about the other?"

"He's being good.  Gave us some intel so we wouldn't kill his friend.  Only problem is that I'm not real sure how your partner is gonna sneak in there.  We got ‘em covered."

She laughed.  "Yeah, see, that's the thing.  The 'good' one?  That's my partner.  You kinda got it all wrong.  It isn't that we work in pairs, it's that we never work alone.  Kinda thought the Widows would know about being able to count to three, though."

He stiffened ever so slightly, and she nodded.

"I got three out there in the street.  Got your two friends as well."  She leaned slowly toward him.  "And you just served your purpose.  You'll make another third."

"Come get me, bitch," he said, pulling the sword at his back.

She laughed and flipped the steel blade again.  "I'm a fucking animal, you shit, not an idiot."

As his eyes watched the steel spin in the air, Sal flicked her other wrist, sending the ceramic blade at his throat.  He dodged, but the white knife lodged in his collar bone.  Sal was on him before he could take a second step.

"Scream," she told him.  "It worked well enough last time."

"Fuck you."  He spat in her face.

"Fine, then I will.  My brothers need to know I'm coming." 

Sal shoved the dagger deeper, resting her hand on it to hold herself above his body.  He clenched his teeth against the cry that wanted to break free and Sal lifted her right hand, the steel dagger twice the length of the ceramic one lodged in his body.  She pinned her ears close and yelled a primal roar, then shoved the steel into his chest.  He gasped and writhed.  Sal moaned softly, watching him die.

Just six more, and four of them would be in the small house below.  She jogged back to her weapons stash and dug beneath the shrub for her gear.  Arden was too far away for her to retrieve her armor, but Sal hoped she wouldn't need it.  She got dressed, buckled on the belts, shoved her daggers into empty sheaths, and grabbed the resin staff.  Her mind inspected the layout of the town as she made her way back to the last man's body.  From this vantage, she could see every building.  Below her, an old shed and a barn sat alone.  It wasn't likely that the Black Widows would be taking shelter in such open buildings, so she slipped over the edge.

The drop was steep.  She used the staff for balance when she made the staggering run down the slope.  When she reached the bottom, she ducked behind the shed, seeking any hint of the Terrans.  Silence greeted her.

She wanted to be nowhere near the bodies of her prey.  That was the first place to look for the enemy.  With one last flick of her ears, she darted to the next building, moving further from the small house that would be her final destination.  The shadows against the walls made her black uniform the perfect cover, and unlike the Terrans, she had no need to move slowly.  Sal darted, ducked, and ran from hiding place to hiding place until she pressed herself again the back wall of the large house that the first man had been so intent on.  The scent of humans oozed from it.

She slunk around the edge, looking for an opening, and paused at a small window into the cellar.  The glare of sunlight on the glass made it impossible for her to see through it, and she didn't dare risk pushing her face closer.  She carefully leaned down, but jumped back when a small face looked back at her.

The boy smiled.  Sal raised her finger to her lips, and he nodded, then twisted at the latch.  She heard it click, and grabbed her knife harder when the kid pushed it open.

"They're upstairs," he whispered.  "You're one of the good guys, right?  Terrans don't like iliri much."

"Yeah, kid," Sal said softly.  "I'm a Black Blade.  I need to get in there."

"K.  It's a good drop though," he warned, before jumping back to the floor.

Sal listened intently.  With the scent of humans so strong, she knew there were more than just Terrans here.  She'd never smell the scent of their weapons over this many bodies, but she had no other option.  She stuck her head through the opening and looked around.  The eyes of children were all that met her. 

Wedging herself through the small window, she grabbed the sill and eased herself to the ground, pulling her weapons in behind her.  Six kids watched her, wide eyed, an older boy glancing across her body.

"Don't think it," she warned him.

He shook his head.  "Just wondering how you're going to get us out without armor."

"Don't need armor unless you plan to get hit.  Now, I need to be briefed."  She looked between the kids.

"What's that mean?" a young girl asked.

"Means she needs to know what is going on," the teen said.  "There was a squad of them.  Like ten or twelve came in yesterday.  They locked us up in here, our parents are upstairs.  I'm pretty sure they separated the women and are using that to keep the men in line.  They got a couple of prisoners a few houses over, too."

Sal nodded.  "Yeah.  That's why I'm here.  How many were upstairs, say, an hour ago?"

"Like five?"

"Four," the young boy said.  "There was four there earlier, when Ma brought down lunch."

"Ok.  Then there's only two up there now.  Makes this easier."  She looked at the older boy, "You ever dream of being a soldier?"

He smiled shyly and shrugged.  "Yeah, I guess."

"Then I'm gonna need your help.  For this to work, I need the rest of you to do exactly what I say, ok?"  Sal glanced around the room, making her plans quickly.  "I need someone to play the victim.  All you have to do is scream and cry like you're hurt.  One of you willing to do that?"

"I can," a girl, maybe ten, offered.

"Ok.  Make it loud, and make it seem like you just cut your hand off or something."  She turned to the younger boy.  "You're going to have to stand in front of her, like you're helping.  Make sure they can't see that she's ok."

"Got it!" he said, beaming.

"Now this is the part I need to be sure I can trust you with.  You have to stay in that corner."  Sal pointed at the one spot in the room where the stairs wouldn't be visible.  "No matter what happens, I need you to stay there, and not move.  I have to have room to work.  If you get in my way, it could get us all killed.  Ok?"

The five youngest nodded seriously.  Sal hoped she'd scared them enough for them to obey.  The older boy watched her, his nervousness showing.

"What am I supposed to do, ma'am?"

Sal smiled at him kindly, keeping her teeth hidden.  "It's sir, and you need to pound on the door, to get someone to open it."  Confused, he nodded, and Sal pulled him away from the younger kids.  Glancing back to be sure they couldn't hear, she leaned closer and whispered, "It's not fair of me to ask you to do this, but I think you're the only one that can take it, ok?"

"You gonna kill them?"

"Yeah.  You'll probably see it, too."

He gulped.  "Ok."

"All you need to do is bang on the door and run back down the stairs, telling them the girl is hurt.  Close your eyes or don't, that's your call.  I just need them to see you when the door opens – and not me.  Ok?"

"Yeah.  I've never seen a dead man before."

"I know.  This stairwell is probably going to get really messy.  Keep the younger ones down there.  They don't need to see it,"

"K.  And thanks," he said, smiling weakly at her.

"For what?"

"For trusting me not to flip out."

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Thirteen."

"Then I'll see ya in the ranks in about five years.  Deal?"

"Thank you, sir," he said, standing straighter. 

"We ready?" she asked the kids.

"Soon as you are," the precocious girl answered.

"Yeah."  The teen nodded.

"K, when he's in the stairwell, give it all you got."

Sal grabbed the teen's arm and pulled him close.  "I can move faster than them.  I will not let you get caught in the middle of this.  As long as you trust me, you'll be fine."

"Yeah."

"Then let's do this."

Together, they moved into the stairwell and made their way up to the door.  With each step, Sal pressed against the wall, until she became little more than a shadow behind the door, the resin staff tucked close to her body.  Behind them, the girl put on a convincing performance.

Sal nodded, and the boy pounded.  "Lona's hurt!" he yelled.  "She's hurt bad, cut herself and won't stop bleeding!  Please!  We need some help down here!"

He glanced back.  Sal smiled at him proudly, then tilted her head at the door, asking him to do it again.

He did.  Pounding, his voice growing more and more worried, he yelled and begged for help while Lona screamed like only a young girl could.  Her ear splitting shrieks caused movement upstairs and Sal could hear the voices of adults each time she gasped for air.  Finally, the lock clicked and the knob slowly turned.

When the door opened, Sal was invisible behind it.  The teen looked at someone and begged, "She's hurt bad, she cut herself on an old lantern.  We tried to stop it, but she's still bleeding.  You gotta do something, mister!"  Then he turned and darted halfway down the stairs.  "Please?" he begged.

"Fucking kids," the man grumbled and pushed the door further open.  "Fine!"

He never even checked behind him when he trotted two paces down the staircase.  The teen glanced back, and Sal pointed down the stairs.  The boy's eyes widened slightly and he looked away as Sal swung.  The lower blade of the staff hacked at the Terran's waist and blood splattered the narrow space when she followed with a backhanded slice at his neck.  The man spun in place at the force of the blows and crumpled as Sal speared the end of the blade through the door.