The Havoc Chronicles (Book II): Unbound (15 page)

“It’s another one of the perks of a long life,” he said when I questioned him about it.

“Kind of like becoming an accomplished actor and memorizing all of Camelot?” I asked.

“Something like that.”

I wanted to hold his hand while we walked, but that wasn’t going to happen with my dad chaperoning us. Instead we walked awkwardly by each other, wanting to be together, but having to pretend we didn’t.

Until Kara came to the rescue.

“Scottie, I’m not feeling very well,” she said. “I think I need to go back to the hotel. Would you walk me back?” She gave me a surreptitious wink, and I tried to hide my grin.

“Maybe we should all call it a night,” my Dad said. “We do want to be rested for tomorrow.”

“I’m not tired,” I said, perhaps a bit too quickly. Dad looked at me suspiciously.

“Ah Scottie, don’t make them suffer because of me,” said Kara. “Let the wee ones have some fun. Rhys knows the language, and I’m sure he would be more than happy to show Madison around.” As she spoke, her Scottish accent grew even thicker. I wondered if that was deliberate.

Deliberate or not, it seemed to do the trick. When dad answered, I could hear a hint of his own accent coming to the surface.

“Rhys, if you don’t mind?”

Rhys played it very cool, but I could see through his act. He wanted to be alone with me as much as I wanted to be with him. Hopefully, my dad couldn’t tell.

“Sure, Scottie. I’d be more than happy to. That is, if Madison feels up for it?”

This time I made sure to not appear overly-eager. I tried to look thoughtful, as if weighing the pros and cons of staying with Rhys or going back to the hotel.

“Sure, why not?” I said. “It’s not every day I come to Mexico.”

That seemed to satisfy Dad. He and Kara headed back to the hotel, leaving Rhys and I alone. Well, surrounded by thousands of people walking through the streets, but we were anonymous and didn’t have to hide our relationship from those people.

I grabbed Rhys’ hand. “Come on, wee one,” I said. “Let’s explore.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Wee ones, indeed. I was...” he trailed off and looked away, his cheeks flushing.

“What?” I asked.

“Never mind.”

But I was pretty sure I knew what the problem was. He was still self-conscious about being so much older than me. I guess I couldn’t blame him. In the majority of cases when I saw a couple with a multi-decade age difference, one of them was old, wrinkly, and wealthy while the other was young, beautiful and very interested in money. That wasn’t the case with us. We were physically only a few years apart, and since I was a Berserker with a trust fund, I would have just as much money as Rhys did.

 “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, and pulled him down the street.

***

We spent the next hour wandering the streets and taking in the sights. It felt wonderful to just walk together holding hands without having to worry about who might see us and what anyone else might think. We were free to be ourselves.

As we walked, I gazed at the buildings and how different the architecture was here. Everything seemed elaborate and ornate with all sorts of designs and patterns carved into the buildings. Some of the buildings were pretty old and run down, but they had a feel of uniqueness to them – an individuality. It gave everything an almost hand-made feel. It was very different from the clean lines and modern look of office buildings and skyscrapers I was used to seeing in the US.

We discovered a section of town where there was a large flea market and we browsed through the selection of crafts, knockoffs, and trinkets as we wandered up and down the aisles of booths. I bought Amy a brightly colored rag doll wearing traditional Mexican clothing. We always brought home souvenirs for each other whenever we traveled someplace new.

Rhys and I were having such a good time that, without realizing it, we wandered past the flea market and into a creepy part of town. The buildings were rundown and trash littered the streets. Small groups of scary-looking guys huddled together, glaring at us as we walked.

One group did more than just glare. Four guys crossed the street and blocked our way. My initial reaction was to be scared – old habits die hard. Then I remembered that there was nothing these guys could do to hurt us... and a lot we could do to hurt them.

Rhys held out his hands in a non-threatening gesture and said something in Spanish. I guessed it was something to the effect of, "Hey guys, we don't want any trouble."

The men laughed, but not in any kind of good-natured isn't-this-amusing kind of way. It was the laugh of predators who plan on playing with their prey.

All of them were older than me, likely in their mid to late twenties. One guy had on jeans, a cowboy hat, boots, and a plaid button up shirt. He seemed to be the leader.

He walked around us very slowly, looking us up and down – especially me. He gave me a leering grin. I returned his leer with a nasty glare, but that just seemed to excite him. Gross!

The cowboy said something to Rhys in Spanish that caused Rhys to tighten his jaw and clench his fists.

"What's he saying?" I asked. Knowing book Spanish, and understanding a native speaker are two very different things.

"You don't want to know," Rhys responded. He didn't take his eyes off the cowboy.

He was probably right.

"Fine," I said. "Let's just get out of here." I grabbed Rhys' arm and pulled him back the way we came.

That didn't work so well. Two of the others stepped into our path, blocking the way. We were surrounded.

"I don't see a way out of this without a fight," said Rhys.

"Well, then let's get it over with," I said. "But let me do it."

Rhys gave me an exasperated look. "You can't seriously think I am going to let you fight these guys on your own?"

"Can you prezerk and fight these guys without glowing?" I asked.

"No, but-"

"No buts about it, Rhys. I'm the logical choice here. I appreciate the attempt at chivalry, but you aren't Lancelot and I'm not Guinevere. I don't need protection, and I can get us out of here with the least attention. Besides, I'm going to enjoy wiping that smirk off the cowboy's face."

Rhys let out an exasperated sigh. "All right. I hate it when you make sense."

I reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. "Thanks!" Did I really just thank my boyfriend for letting me beat up a bunch of guys who are accosting us in a bad part of Mexico? Wow, my life is really odd.

I took a moment and turned on my prezerk. I walked up to the cowboy guy and gave him a smile. I reached out a hand and straightened his collar. He narrowed his eyes, and grabbed my wrist - exactly what I wanted.

With almost no effort at all, I gripped his wrist with my free hand and spun around, twisting his arm behind him into a hammerlock that Rhys had taught me in one of our training sessions. It was an easy – and painful – way to control someone.

The cowboy gasped, and let out a string of what I assume was Spanish profanity. I hadn’t learned
those
words.

One of his friends ran towards me, and I kicked him in the chest, sending him flying backwards and into a wall. He slid to the ground, dazed. One of the remaining two guys saw the grin on my face and ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction. He was the only smart one in the group. I let him go.

The last guy had an overly long mustache that he had twirled into points. It was a serious bad-guy mustache – like Snidely Wiplash from the old Dudley Do-Right cartoons my dad made me watch as a kid. He pulled out a gun and cocked his head to the side, letting me know he would shoot me if I didn’t let go of his friend.

I contemplated throwing the cowboy guy at him, and hopefully knocking them both unconscious, but I figured there was a pretty good chance that Snidely might accidentally fire his gun. I was bulletproof, but cowboy guy was not. The whole point of my dealing with this was to keep it low-key, and a gunshot wound for anyone – even these creeps – would not be low-key.

Snidely clearly felt he had the upper hand. I played along with him and let the cowboy guy go so he would be out of the line of fire. Once I loosened my grip, cowboy guy yanked himself free as if he had simply been biding his time, rather than my helpless prisoner.

Apparently the male ego can be translated into any language.

He stood by Snidely, his arms folded, doing his best to look tough.

“Are you done playing around?” Rhys asked me.

“Give me a sec,” I said. “I’m trying to not get any of them shot.”

In one fluid motion, I reached forward, grabbed the gun in Snidely’s hand and twisted. Without stopping, I pulled the gun from his grip, and ended with the gun pointed at him.

He had hardly had time to blink.

The sudden reversal of our situations was too much for cowboy guy and he turned around and ran, leaving Snidely at gunpoint.

I made a show of holding the gun tightly with both hands and placing the barrel directly in the center of Snidely’s forehead. The blood drained from his face, his eyes began to bulge, and his lower lip trembled.

When I saw wetness spreading down the front of his pants, I decided he’d had enough. I hadn’t meant to make him pee himself.

I lowered the gun and took a step back.

“Tell him to get his friend and get out of here before I change my mind,” I said to Rhys. It was a total bluff, but Snidely didn’t know that.

Rhys translated and Snidely grabbed his friend that I had knocked into the wall. Within moments, they were both gone and out of sight.

I held up the gun. “What do I do with this?”

“Wipe it down and trash it.”

I removed the bullets and then used my pre-zerk strength to bend the gun barrel in half. I used my shirt to wipe the gun clean of finger prints and tossed it behind some crates.

Mission accomplished, I grabbed Rhys’ hand. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”

***

We didn’t tell my dad about the attackers. We hadn’t been in any real danger, and it would virtually guarantee that he would not let us out of his sight for the rest of the trip. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

I was pretty exhausted by the time I got back to the hotel. Kara was still awake, and she winked at me as I walked into the room.

“Don’t bother thanking me,” she said. “We both know you owe me.”

I blushed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I really appreciate it,” I said. “It was nice to be alone with Rhys again.”

“I know,” said Kara. She shrugged. “I figured one of us ought to be with the man she loves.”

My heart sank. I still felt awful about what happened between her and Aata. Talk about a no-win situation.

“Have you heard from him?” I asked.

Kara nodded. “Just a few texts here and there.”

I hesitated, not quite brave enough to ask what I wanted to.

Kara spared me the awkwardness and answered my unasked question.

“We’re no longer together. It’s over.”

“Oh.”

“It’s ok,” Kara said, forcing a smile. “It really is.”

I crossed my arms and gave her a flat stare. That was a complete lie and we both knew it.

“What do you want me to say?” Kara asked. “That I miss him every minute we’re apart? That I think about him constantly and want nothing more than to have him hold me in his arms?” She looked up, futilely trying to blink back tears. “Of course I do. But I’ve come to terms with the fact that we will never be together again.” Kara paused and wiped her eyes. “Sometimes I lie awake at night thinking about what I could have done differently. If I hadn’t released the snare he would have died, and I would be dealing with his death instead. At least this way he’s alive and there’s still hope.”

I had no words to respond to that. I felt horrible. I hadn’t meant to force her into a painful confession of love for Aata. Feeling helpless, I reached out and hugged her as hard as I could.

***

The next morning we had breakfast at the hotel and walked to our prearranged meeting place a few blocks away. The day was beautiful – sunny and cloudless. It was too early to be really hot, but that was almost certain to change as the day progressed.