Steel Victory (Steel Empire Book 1) (28 page)

Victory would give anything in the world to trade places with her daughter. But Max planned this sortie for late morning, to get a feel for the ground unhindered by darkness. Not all of the regular mercenary force had the heightened senses.

“I’d better go see whether Syri is ready for me upstairs.” Toria placed her empty dishes in the sink and snagged an apple before heading out of the room. Victory hoped she intended to pawn it off on Syri. The elven girl needed her strength to heal.

The doorbell rang. Max was early. Toria pounded back downstairs to let him in, directing him toward the kitchen. That was Victory’s cue to ready another mug of coffee, and Max entered the kitchen right as she spooned in his second lump of sugar.

“You have made my morning,” he said, accepting the mug and settling into Toria’s vacant seat. “We have good troops, but organizing them to include the werecreatures has been like herding cats. Sometimes literally.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?” The circles under his eyes did not bode well.

“I caught a nap in my office a little before dawn,” he said. “I’ll be fine.” Victory’s silence spoke volumes, because after taking a sip of coffee, Max said, “Toria will be fine, too.”

“I wish I could be with you all today,” Victory said, laying her head down on the table. Helplessness was not a feeling she was used to. She’d spent far too long being the master of her own destiny, fighting either alongside Asaron or with her sword as her single ally. She’d never felt that political life made her weak, but it was still tough to bow to Max’s wishes rather than demand that he push the plan back to sundown.

“Trust me, I wish you could, too.”

Max’s frankness reassured her far more than any platitudes he might have offered. “Thanks, hon.”

“I’m serious. I’ve got plenty of seasoned warriors, but a lot of journeymen are being given battlefield promotions like Toria. Add in all the weres and the elves who aren’t used to military discipline, and I’m almost desperate to have you helping me run interference.”

“Next time?”

“Hell, yes.” Max reached across the table to grab her hand, and Victory raised her head to meet his eyes. “This is a preliminary run. Gather info, figure out what we’re really up against. Damn straight the next fight is going to be at night, with you in the thick of it.”

“Damn straight,” Victory echoed. “Finish your coffee and grab a snack from the fridge. I’ll go make sure the girls are ready.” She stood and crossed to the other side of the table, where she pressed a chaste kiss against Max’s cheek. He would keep Toria safe.

Of course, she rather hoped Toria would do the same for him. If anything happened to Max, and with Asaron still languishing in captivity, that would leave her in charge.

Toria waved out the back window of Max’s borrowed van, knowing her mother would be watching from her bedroom window, hidden in the shadows of the heavy drapes. When they turned a corner in the long driveway, she pulled her arm inside the window and settled back in her seat.

She put on a tough front for everyone around her, including her mother, but she would have given her right arm for Victory to be beside her, also geared up for battle.

Max drove into town, back toward the Hall—the staging point for the mission slated to begin at noon. It was ten in the morning, and already Toria wanted the day to be over.

Syri laid her head on Toria’s shoulder. That morning, she had once again delved into Toria’s mind and activated all of the battle defenses Toria had stored away. Today Syri would play Kane’s part, wielding magic to protect them while Toria relied on her borrowed sword.

When Max first proposed the plan, Toria had felt it a betrayal of Kane. But this liaison was temporary, and soon she would have her real partner back.

“I have a rather silly question,” Syri said, keeping her voice low.

Matching her whisper, Toria said, “Yeah?”

“Have you ever killed anyone before?”

An easy answer, but Toria hesitated, then she nodded once. That had been a long time ago, by human standards. Three years would be a blink to Syri. “It was self-defense.” She looked out the window at the passing trees. “A vampire after Mama for killing her sire decades ago.”

“The werepanther crisis,” Syri said. “I wasn’t in the city, but I heard about it. The ringleader—same vampire?”

“Same vampire,” Toria said.

“I’ve never killed anyone.” Syri replaced her head, and Toria pressed her cheek to elven-soft hair.

“Hopefully neither of you will today,” Max said. He sought Toria’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’re in charge of all the promoted journeymen, Toria. I expect you to keep them out of trouble.”

“Don’t worry,” Syri said. “We’re good at staying out of trouble.”

“Or at least getting ourselves out of it,” Toria said, joining Syri’s battle-strung giggles.

Hours later, Toria wasn’t laughing. She crept through the underbrush, gladius in hand and Syri close by. Three other former journeymen walked strung out behind her, also silent in the dim afternoon forest.

She paused before they entered a small clearing, keeping to the shadows of the trees. The others halted in their tracks and stayed low behind her. While she didn’t know many of them beyond sight, name, and perhaps a training session or two, she knew that Max had given her the best. “Anything?”

A dark green hood concealed Syri’s blonde hair, but a few wisps escaped when she shook her head. “Nope. I think we outran them. And there’s no sign through here. I think we can risk it.”

With battlefield gestures drilled into her that she never thought she’d have to use with anyone but Kane, Toria motioned for the others to follow her forward. Syri took point, rifle clutched in her hands. They stuck to the tree line, skirting the clearing.

The explosions still rang in Toria’s ears. She had been positioned with Syri and the others by the caravan of long-distance vehicles that ferried the mercenary force out to the major river crossing. Max nixed the bridge as too frontal of an attack, so they’d returned to the spot of the kidnapping.

Despite the fact that she itched to join the main body, Toria remained with her own small troop. All seven of them could drive, and they held the responsibility of keeping the precious vehicles safe, whether it meant picking up the mercenaries on a retreat or hightailing it out of there themselves at the first sign of the Romans and heading for the backup rendezvous.

“Remind me again what plan C was?” Syri’s low voice carried back to Toria’s ears.

“You mean yell ‘oh shit!’ and run like hell?” Toria suppressed a manic giggle. She’d been in worse situations than this, she was sure of it.

What the hell was Max thinking, putting her in charge?

After the main body had departed, Toria called for the perimeter scouts to come in. She and Syri had walked out to meet them before the first three could reach the vehicles.

The loss of the majority of the Guild’s long-distance vehicles was devastating enough, but there were worse things to lose. Poor Freya had been the sole casualty of the sabotage. The nurse was the Guild’s backup medic—she’d requested the rearguard since her three-month-old son remained at home with her husband. The van housing the mobile medical unit exploded first, followed in a violent chain by the other vehicles. The other three scouts were fine. The blast threw their replacements to the ground, singeing them a bit—Freya never stood a chance.

And now there were five.

Syri drew to a halt when they reached the other side of the clearing, and Toria gathered everyone around her. “Okay, back through the woods. We’ll head to the secondary meeting point and wait for the others there.”

“No way,” Ari said. “The Romans bypassed the force already. They’re probably on their way to Limani right now. We have to get back and warn the city. Do what we can there.”

None of Toria’s scouts had seen any sign of the Romans before the explosions. Their position had been secure. Max made sure of that before he led the others out.

“Think, girl,” Syri said. “The trucks didn’t explode because they were shot at.”

Taba, the wereleopard, picked up on Syri’s train of thought. “We were set up?”

Toria nodded once. “They must have been rigged to blow before we even left Limani. Humanist work, probably.”

Except for Syri, they all gaped at her. “That’s impossible,” Ari said.

“You have no idea what they’ve been up to the past few days,” Syri said.

To Toria’s chagrin, every single one of them focused on her rather than their surroundings. This needed to be finished, fast.

“Care to enlighten us?” Ari said.

“We don’t have time for this,” Toria said. “The river docks are closer than the city. We’ll borrow wheels there and head to the meeting point, secure the location for when the others get back.”

“We should call back while we’re there and request another medic from the hospital.” Ah, another voice of reason in the group. But introductions that morning had been swift, and Toria couldn’t remember the lanky guy’s name. Renan? He was a new city resident, but Max had vouched for him.

“Good idea,” she said. “You’re in charge of that.”

A low mutter from the other side of the group caught Toria’s ear over the forest sounds around them. “What was that?”

Ari stepped away from Taba, lifting her chin in defiance. “I said, maybe he should be in charge of everything.”

Toria’s skin chilled under her thick leather armor in the stifling summer humidity. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” They did not have time for this. She took a quick swig from her canteen.

“C’mon, we all know you’re only running this show because you’re the Guildmaster’s favorite.”

She’d always suspected that Max preferred Kane, but Ari’s insinuation still made her bristle. “Maybe Max thought I was the best person for the job.”

“You don’t even have the respect to call him Master Asher like the rest of us,” Ari said.

Syri cut off Toria’s retort. “Enough,” she said. “Time to move out, not stand around and bicker like schoolchildren. Did you all even have any idea that three Roman scouts are heading in this direction?”

To their credit, they all snapped into defensive positions. “Where?” Toria said.

“Oh, we’re still fine,” Syri said. “They’re within elven hearing range, not human. But we need to straighten up and move. Now.”

While not as harrowing, the jog to the docks was no less stressful than the rest of the trip so far. Toria felt Ari’s eyes boring into the back of her head, but she didn’t have the energy or inclination to break her momentum in order to tell the girl off.

At least the breeze caused by their passing cooled her down a little bit. She hesitated to drain the water in her canteen, unsure whether they would make it to the river before the scouts Syri overheard came upon them.

There was a subtle alteration in the humidity around her, and Toria knew they were nearing the river. Soon the docks would be in sight, and they would have a short time to breathe before she had to beg Master Rhaavi for a truck and the use of the radio.

“Heads up!”

Taba’s voice alerted Toria to their immediate danger just before she felt a breeze pass her cheek, followed by the thunk of an arrow piercing a tree to her left. She dove to the ground, rolling to her side and drawing her pistol. After all of her charges hit the ground or scattered behind trees, Toria sighted through the foliage.

Before she could call out a request to Syri, her vision layered with magesight. Bless the girl for having experience with combat, however limited, and anticipating her needs. Still no replacement for Kane, but she would do in a pinch.

Crouched in the brush next to her, Taba pulled his sweatshirt off and tossed it aside, then unlaced and pulled off his boots. “Cover me,” he said, the words muddling when his teeth lengthened and the bones in his face shifted. In a handful of heartbeats, a spotted leopard kicked out of a pair of jeans and ghosted out into the foliage.

Toria watched his golden shape—in both color and magical aura—slip through the underbrush. The forest, already a myriad of summer-bright greens and browns, overlaid with shadows of color that made reality appear drab by comparison. She dismissed the familiar magical shine of nature, instead concentrating on seeking out any sense of wrongness.

There. A few hundred yards away, protected by trees and thick brush. They were still now, having lost their easy targets. Three simple human auras, shades of putrid orange radiating even more fear and apprehension than her own small crew. One also contained tinges of blue, a valiant attempt at mental shielding by a weak telepath.

She had them in her sights. Any other day, she’d pull power from Kane, call down a bolt of power, and blast them into a crater.

Not an option this afternoon. She doubted that “Lightning Bolt” was one of the charms Syri had dug out of her brain to set in her own mind.

None of the other journeymen were mages of any sort, and she already knew Syri’s magical abilities ran more to the mental than the combative. Time to handle this the old-fashioned way. Taba’s silent figure crept around the Roman scouts, and Toria knew he would circle around behind them.

“Can they see us?” Ari’s soft voice came from behind a nearby tree.

“I’ve got their position. Three hundred yards east, right between that pair of large oak trees,” Toria said. “And you’re right—they know we’re here, but nothing more. Ari and Renan, circle around to the right and left, stay low. I’ll go straight. Taba’s blocking their retreat. Syri, stay here and keep a lookout for any surprises.”

“Capture or incapacitate?” Ari was all business now, a fact Toria much appreciated.

“Incapacitate, however necessary,” Toria said. “We don’t have the time or manpower to deal with prisoners. Ready check?” A chorus of low affirmatives met her question. “All out. Now.”

Shifting her weight and rolling onto her knees, Toria drew the gladius at her side and rose to a crouch. Renan and Ari disappeared in her peripheral vision, and she led the stealthy charge.