Stygian's Honor (16 page)

“And they’ll keep babying you or answer to my knife at their throat one night,” Emma stated, the cold hard tone an indication of her complete dedication to the threat.

“Stop interrupting the conversation over here if you two don’t mind.” Ashley displayed her incisors aggressively at her attempt to ignore her sister’s threats. “Em, did you hear about Liza and Stygian’s little ride out to the lake earlier today?”

“You mean the one where Stygian had her pinned against that post beneath the shelter a second before that shooter tried to rearrange her head?” Emma grinned. “Hell yeah, the Breeds on protective detail were ribbing Stygian over that one before we left the hotel tonight.”

Liza glanced at the girls gathered at the side of the room. “Just what I need, a bunch of Breeds gossiping about me when they should have been watching for the bastards using me as target practice.”

“Honey, you should have expected that the minute you hopped on that Harley with him,” the Jaguar Breed Shiloh Gage spoke up with effortless sarcasm. “Breeds are nosier than any woman created. They’re bigger gossips too. The fact that you managed to evade a professional assassin’s bullet is just fodder for the rumor mill. What I can’t believe is that he actually comes home instead of rushing you straight to his bed.”

Emma and Ashley snickered at the declaration.

“I still can’t believe he didn’t just kiss you.” Ashley
giggled, her gray eyes twinkling in a merriment they hadn’t seen since she’d been shot by Holden Mayhew.

And though Liza was damned happy that the other girl seemed to be recovering so well, she still wasn’t pleased that Chelsea had placed her head on the chopping block to amuse Ashley.

At least Chelsea and Claire hadn’t told the other girls how he refused to deny mating heat existed. That part, they had sworn to never tell. She should have made them swear on the rest of it as well. At least, until they knew for certain about the whole punishment-by-death thing.

Yet there they were, all watching her after her friend had been so kind as to inform them of what may have transpired before the shooting.

“How much did you tell them, anyway?” Liza questioned her with suspicion.

She should have told them not to mention that almost kiss. She’d remember next time not to.

Chelsea gave a light shrug and a smirk. “Probably more than you would be comfortable with, but come on, Liza, it was so interesting.”

Liza felt heat wash through her face as she remembered the sensuality that had tightened Stygian’s expression.

“Great,” she muttered, resting her face against her up-raised her knees.

“Hell, I just can’t believe Stygian got so fresh,” Shiloh drawled. “He doesn’t even get sexy-nasty with the Breed females he takes to his bed. He hasn’t even been known to flirt.”

Oh, he knew how to flirt—just as he knew how to make a woman insane with anger.

“Why don’t you guys find something else to talk about?” Liza demanded.

“Because, this is just so interesting,” Shiloh assured her with practiced mockery. “Come on, Liza, it’s simply uncalled for to hear of Stygian actually going on a date.”

“Well, you can at least take a break and let us finish here,” Emma declared as she moved back to the center of the mat where Liza sat, finally breathing regularly. “Come
on, bad girl, get off your lazy ass and see if you can’t find a way to at least tip me here.” Turning her palm, she gave Liza a backward wave. “Up and at ’em.”

Liza rolled her eyes as she came to her feet and gave her arms a loose shake to relax her stiffening muscles.

“Take it easy with those paws of yours,” she ordered the other girl. “Hell, my arms still ache.”

“Sissy. Stop wussing out on me.”

Wussing out on her?

Liza glared back at her.

She had yet to wuss out on anything.

Watching Emma carefully, she was able to dodge the first set of jabs as well as Emma’s attempt to trip her.

Liza focused her memory on the fight she’d managed to glimpse between Diane Broen and one of her former mercenaries. She concentrated on coordinating her movements to match the practiced symmetry the Bureau enforcer had used.

Why hadn’t she tried that before? she wondered distantly.

She’d watched enough Breeds sparring over the years that she should have already been incorporating what she’d watched them do.

She blocked Emma’s next attempt to grab and throw her to the mat. As though she had slipped into someone else’s skin, she began moving automatically. Blocking, jabbing, moving offensively instead of defensively until she had Emma actually breaking a sweat.

She had watched the Breeds—Cullen, Reever, and Klah—sparring for most of her life, and had resisted the urge to attempt to use the maneuvers she’d seen. Her body always felt ready, prepared to execute the moves, but her confidence in putting into practice what she had seen without training, had held her back.

Until tonight.

Until the urge to do so overcame her lack of confidence and she learned she had a talent she’d never recognized before. It was a talent she realized she’d had since her and Claire’s accident. The fiery car crash had nearly taken both of their lives, and had left each with subtle talents that for
some reason they were terrified to reveal. Talents they had only shared the secrets of with each other.

“Geez,” Emma muttered as Liza blocked another move and came back at her quickly with an offensive jab to her jaw, then followed with one to the midriff.

Emma barely had time to block before awareness of another move slid into Liza’s consciousness and went straight to the instinctive impulses snapping through her brain then to her body.

Emma sent a jab to her jaw. Sweeping back and going to the floor, Liza caught herself on her shoulders and arms, legs swinging out as she rolled and swept Emma off balance.

As the Breed went down, Liza was there, her fist coming in and stopping short of Emma’s throat in what would have been a killing blow for a human. For a Breed, at the very least, it would cause a lengthy incapacitation, giving Liza a chance to escape.

As Liza blinked down at the shock in Emma’s face, she quickly jumped back, stared down at her hands, then to the Breeds and two friends watching her in wide-eyed disbelief.

In Claire’s eyes though, Liza saw fear—and a desperate warning.

Fear that the minute changes they had experienced after their recovery would be detected and alter them in the eyes of their loved ones.

The warning that she was skirting the line and placing them both in danger.

“Who the fuck are you and where did Liza go?” Emma sat up slowly, her gaze narrowed.

“I told you she was holding back,” Shiloh crowed in triumph as her mocking laughter filled the basement. “What have I been telling you for months and you couldn’t see it? Every damned time she could have shown she was picking up these damned moves she would back off like a scared little baby.”

“I never showed her that move.” Emma watched Liza as though she were a particularly complicated puzzle.

“Neither did I,” Ashley stated.

“No, we didn’t. But have you forgotten what Liza does for fun? She buys fighting videos and practices without us. I told you all along she was going to kick your asses one day when you least expected it.”

The suspicion, thank God. Oh, thank God. It eased from Ashley’s and Emma’s gaze as Shiloh’s explanation sank in.

Chelsea shook her head in amazement as Claire slowly began to relax.

“I watch Breeds fight too,” she reminded them all. “Their sparring sessions can get real interesting.”

“It can’t be easy sparring alone though,” Emma pointed out, a frown beginning to mar her brow.

“Tell me about it,” Liza breathed out roughly as she collapsed on the mat and took a deep breath. “Do you have any idea how many bruises I’ve gotten down here?”

It wasn’t a lie. There was no deceit in the statement. That part was easy to cover, especially when she was able to hide her face against her knees and simply concentrate on breathing.

One breath in, one out. One in, one out.

“Well, hell, I can actually tell Link now you’re just about ready.” Emma gave a short nod. “Claire will take a little longer, but she’s getting there.”

“I’ll so obviously not be on the front lines,” Claire said in amusement. “I prefer driving anyway.”

And there, Claire was excelling.

“Yeah, she has like fucking mad driving skills,” Ashley exclaimed in sudden excitement. “She’ll never lose control of a vehicle again.”

The sudden reminder had Liza taking in a hard breath. Her head jerked up, eyes opening wide.

She didn’t want to see that memory flashing through her mind again, or feel what she had felt when she had seen the darkness of death opening up around her.

She could swear she’d heard the wails of the dead. And it wasn’t a white light she’d seen. It had been darkness. Nothingness. Such a void of complete nothing that it had rocked her soul.

The same sight Claire had faced as the car exploded
around them, the force of the blast blowing the doors open and throwing them from the vehicle seconds before flames had engulfed it.

“Okay, shower.” Liza jumped to her feet, feeling the sticky residue of perspiration drying on her flesh. “How about pizza?” she asked the others. “We could phone in the order before we shower and eat it hot.”

The others called out their agreement in unison as Chelsea, Claire and Liza headed upstairs to shower.

The four Breed females made their way to the gym-style shower that had been built into the house by the owners before they’d moved, who had left the three-bedroom rancher with a finished basement intended to serve as a fully functional gym.

Liza called in the pizza order before heading into her bedroom and quickly stripping.

Stepping into the shower, she let the hot water wash away not just the memories she didn’t want resurfacing again, but also that irritating sensation just beneath the flesh in each area Emma’s hands had gripped her during their sparring.

She felt bruised to the bone in several areas; in others, it felt as though the Breed’s touch had somehow become allergic.

It wasn’t until she’d showered, dried and dressed in loose cotton pants and a T-shirt that she began to feel human once again.

She was quickly twisting an elastic band into the damp strands of her braided hair when a horrified scream pierced the silence of the house.

“Claire!” A breath of fear rushed from her lungs as Liza felt the sweeping autopilot sensation rush through her once again.

She didn’t rush.

Claire screamed again, but as though she were watching someone else, Liza quickly slid open her dresser drawer to retrieve the laser-guided, laser-powered, ammo-loaded side arm her father had given her after Isabelle had been attacked by Holden Mayhew.

The distance between her and her actions slowly receded
until she was moving, blessedly no longer watching herself, to her bedroom door. Flipping out the lights, Liza jerked open the door and went out in a roll, her gaze sweeping over the room.

Claire’s cry was weaker this time, the sound of a struggle in a room indicating the danger her friend was in.

Council-controlled Breeds.

In the next breath, the sound of gunfire rocked the house.

Liza shuddered with each blast, counting four even as she rushed for Claire’s room.

“Chelsea! Emma!” She was screaming out for the others as she gripped Claire’s doorknob and tried to jerk it open.

Locked.

Claire never locked her door.

The sound of glass breaking and Breed snarls filled the night as Chelsea burst from her room on the other side of the house, her voice rising in fear as she screamed out Claire’s name.

At the same time, she could hear Ashley, Emma and Shiloh tearing up the stairs from the basement, shouting orders and calling out something to Chelsea as they reached the kitchen.

Liza didn’t hesitate. Lifting the gun, she fired on the doorknob, watching the metal knob shatter and fly from its secured position as the door released.

Kicking it in, Liza threw herself into the room, her weapon lifting, instantly finding her first target as she brought herself up with her back to the wall and froze.

Blood splattered along the wall on the far side of the room where a Coyote Breed was slumped, staring sightlessly, lifelessly out at the scene before him.

Claire’s scream pierced the night again, but she was backed into a corner, a weapon similar to the one Liza held in her hands, shaking, trained on Stygian, then to Rule Breaker, then the Coyote and finally at Dog. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

“Claire. Please help me,” Liza cried out, keeping the plea just weak enough to pierce the haze Claire was in with the appearance of another’s pain.

“Liza?” Claire didn’t sound dazed or uncertain, but the weapon was still shaking as Stygian and the others watched her now, clearly uncertain of what to do next.

“Claire.” It was Dog who spoke up, his voice holding a soothing, tranquil tone Liza hadn’t really expected he could possess. “Do you remember me, sweetheart?”

Claire stared at him, wide-eyed, terror whitening her face, though only a cold, hard look filled her gaze.

Claire licked her lips and gave a jerky nod. “Why are you here? Are you with them?” She gestured to the dead Breed.

“Them?” Dog glanced around. “Are there more, Claire?”

“There were two.” A sob broke in her voice. “They were waiting when I came from the shower.” Tears spilled from her eyes as she steadied the weapon. “Were you with them too?”

“Claire, Stygian wouldn’t hurt us.” Liza laid her own weapon aside, reality setting in as she began shaking as hard as Claire had been.

Her friend’s gaze jerked to her, then back to the Breeds. At the door to the room Ashley, Emma and Shiloh were holding Chelsea back and keeping her quiet.

“Liza.” Claire’s lips trembled violently. “They were going to take us,” she suddenly whispered. “They were going to take both of us, and they were going to hurt us—”

“I know,” Liza assured her quickly. She had to get Claire calm and settled. She couldn’t say more. “Claire, Dog, Stygian and Rule are here to help us, honey. Let me have the gun.”