Twisted Mercy (Red Team Book 4) (26 page)

Zavi’s mother smiled at Lion as she set their plates in front of them. She had a long mane of copper-colored hair and big, kind green eyes. She was beautiful. He caught a hint of her scent as she moved. It was sweet, a scent he didn’t know. She set a hand on his shoulder. He felt himself tighten at the contact.
 

“Eat what you want and feel free to help yourself to seconds or thirds. Can I get you something to drink?”

Zavi, still standing on his seat, leaned forward and said, “I like orange juice. You should have some, too.”
 

Lion looked at Zavi’s mom and nodded. Again, she smiled at him. Setting a gentle hand on her son’s shoulder, she asked him to remember his manners at the table. Zavi gave him a dark look, then knelt on the cushion as she pushed his chair in.

Lion glanced down at the food piled on his plate in portions triple what Zavi had been given. Bacon, scrambled eggs, biscuits smothered in sausage gravy, fried shredded potatoes, and a bowl of fruit. He’d once stolen a tray of biscuits from the bikers’ kitchen when it was his turn to forage for the pride. His mouth watered at the memory. He was anxious to begin eating, but none of the other men were eating, so he decided to wait.

Two other women entered the room just then. Neither was very tall. Both had short hair that didn’t quite reach their shoulders. Both were stunning, though one had dark hair and the other pale blond curls. They looked at him and ended their conversation abruptly. A tan dog with an enormous head caught the brunette’s tension. He lifted his head and stared at Lion.
 

Blade came over and set his arms around the shoulders of the women. “Lion, this is my fiancée, Eden”—he nodded toward the dark-haired woman—“and our friend, Fiona,” he said, indicating the blond.
 

Lion stood up and nodded toward them. He wasn’t certain what the right protocol for meeting women was, but as it wasn’t something he’d ever done before, he felt it should be accorded special reverence.
 

Mandy brought their juices over. “Lion, I don’t think you’ve met everyone.” She pointed toward the woman sitting next to the girl. “That’s Ivy, Kit’s soon-to-be wife. And Casey, their daughter.” He looked at the girl Amir had wanted diverted. He could see both of her parents in her resolute expression. As he looked at her, her face turned red. He tilted his head, trying to understand that reaction.

Mandy touched his shoulder again. “Have a seat, Lion. We’re not so formal here. And eat while it’s still hot.”

He sat as directed, and emptied his plate quickly. When he looked up, the other men had joined the group. Everyone was watching him, with a variety of expressions ranging from shock to disgust. He unfisted his fork and set it down on his empty plate. He swiped the back of his other fist against his mouth, returning glare for glare with Kit, their leader.

He knew he’d be breaking protocol by eating first. He should have waited for the other men before beginning.
 

“Would you like more?” Zavi’s mom asked. He looked at her kind face, relaxing slightly simply because she showed no sign of tension. If the women weren’t afraid, then he wouldn’t be either.

“I’m no longer hungry.”

Kit dropped his napkin on his clean plate. “That makes two of us.”

Lion looked down the table. Kit and his woman flanked their daughter. He looked at Casey, who once again turned a shade of pink.
 

And it dawned on him why Kit was so angry. “I’m sorry I frightened your daughter, Kit.”

If he thought Kit had been angry before, it was nothing compared to his expression now. He leaned forward, bracing an arm on the table, semi-blocking Casey from him. “Don’t look at her. Don’t think about her. And don’t ever talk to her. She’s not your concern. What’s done is done. We’ll go from here, feel me?”

“No.”

Kit’s eyes widened. The table went silent for the space of a breath. Zavi’s mom cleared her throat. “Lion, I understand you live deep in the Snowy Range. It’s beautiful country up there.”

Lion moved his gaze from Kit to Mandy. Was she allowed to speak when men were talking? The women in the Friendship Community hadn’t been. He looked around the table, wondering what the others would do. No one seemed concerned, though Kit still watched him. He looked at Mandy again. “Yes. It is.”

She smiled at him. “I’m glad you could visit today. I hope we can see more of you.”

“I believe that’s unlikely,” Lion said.
 

“So do I,” Kit said. Lion didn’t look at him.
 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to refill your plate?” Mandy asked, ignoring Kit.
 

Lion swallowed hard. “No. Thank you.” He was still hungry, but it was hard to fight on a full stomach; he fully expected Kit to mete out some punishment after the meal.

* * *

When breakfast was over and the dining room began to empty out, Lion stood by his chair, uncertain what was expected of him. Blade sent Kit a warning look. “Lion, let’s go outside and talk.”

Blade led Lion outside to the patio. “I told you yesterday that I knew Holbrook. He did to me what he did to you.”

“He trained you?”

Memories flashed through Blade’s brain, flooding his senses. Training. Yeah, maybe that was what he did. He trained Blade to take whatever he was given, to live through the pain, to hide his hate. “And the punishments,” he murmured.

Lion made a face as he glanced across the short grass of the lawn. “He was too hard on the younger ones. His punishments left them bleeding. More than one died.”

Blade shoved his hands into his pockets. He knew the security system on the patio was recording their conversation. He had no secrets from the team, but Lion did. In all their questioning so far, they hadn’t yet gotten the answer of why Lion and his boys watched the tunnels on the WKB compound. King had them there for a reason, and it hadn’t been just to feed Holbrook’s perverted appetites.

“I fought him when he first took over the pride. I was angry and ineffective. But I wouldn’t let him punish the other boys; I took their punishments for them as often as I could. He said he was making a leader out of me…and I guess he did. I ran the boys, kept them on the straight and narrow.” Lion shook his head. “There was always some small slight that he caught that I didn’t.”

“Always a punishment.”

Lion nodded. “I overheard him once talking to someone called King. I realized King was in charge of him. I told Holbrook that I was going to go to King myself if the punishments didn’t stop. That was a far more powerful threat than I realized. Not only did he back off the punishments, he offered to negotiate new terms for us.”

“Well played.”

Lion looked at him, then shrugged. “Maybe. Once you go down that road, your enemy has powerful leverage against you; he knows what you want, what drives you.”

“What did you want?”

“I wanted training for us to become warriors. We’re only supposed to be watchers.”

Watchers of what? No matter which way they brought up the question, the answer was always “the tunnels.” Blade didn’t ask again. “Did he accept?”

“He did. He brought in experts on every kind of weapon that didn’t use gunpowder. We’ve been trained to fight with knives, whips, bats, nunchucks, stars, clubs, spears, bows and arrows. And we learned how to fight with no weapons at all.”

“So you became warriors. You became stronger. What leverage did that give Holbrook?”

“We weren’t supposed to be fighters. We’re watchers. Nothing else. He turned our new skills back on us. I know if he told King what I had done, the pride would have been dismantled. And so the punishments resumed.
 

“When I turned twenty-one, I expected to leave the pride and join a tribe. King had done that with the others. I had determined to kill Holbrook before I went, but he died before I could. And after that, King asked that I take over managing the pride.”

“Why are you supposed to be watchers only and not warriors?”

“Holbrook said it was because a boy who is quiet and observant can hear and see things without being noticed. A boy who is a warrior garners too much attention and cannot complete a mission without interference if his first instinct is to fight.” Lion’s gaze grew distant. “But none of that was true. King wanted us to become warriors. For Armageddon.”

“So King knows you’re fighters?”

“Yes.”
 

“Lion, if you could change your circumstances, return the boys to their homes, would you?”

“The boys have no homes.”

“We could find them new homes, new families.”

Lion trained his blue eyes on Blade. “Our pride is our family. We have a job to do. We’re learning to be warriors. We have our schoolwork. And where we are, we’re safe from Armageddon. Why would I move the pride?”

“We showed you the video footage last night of what will happen if Armageddon goes forward. No one will be safe. Not your boys. Not you. Not the thing you watch.” Blade paused, trying to find the words that would get through Lion’s brainwashed head. They’d spent the night showing him the outcome of the path he’d been taught was right. “Your Armageddon will kill all the families at the park last night. All the rodeo athletes. Everyone, young and old. What have they done to deserve such an end?”

“It is unfortunate.”

“It’s a helluva lot more than unfortunate. The women and kids here will die. Even the Friendship Community will die.”

“They won’t die. They are prepared for the End Days. They have been for decades.”

“Kit wants you to drill into King more,”
Greer said, coming over Blade’s comm unit.

“Is King involved with the Friendship Community, too?” Blade asked.

“Yes.”

“How does he communicate with them?”

“I don’t know how he does with them. They don’t use technology, so he wouldn’t be calling them on a phone. We sometimes receive letters from him. Perhaps it’s the same for them.”

“Do you have any of those letters?”

“No. He asks that they be burned after reading.”

“If you get another, will you save it for us?”

“No. Disobeying orders costs the life of a cub.”

“King ordered you to protect Mad Dog. We need to learn more about King so that you can do that.”

Lion looked away from him, considering his request. At last he nodded. “I’ll save the next communication for you. But how will I communicate with you?”

“You have Mad Dog’s number. Call him if you hear from King.” Blade put a hand on Lion’s shoulder. “Let’s go back to the conference room and talk to Kit.” Blade grinned. “He should have calmed down by now.”

“How did I anger him? Was it because of his daughter?”

“Do you remember Amir Hadad? The game you played out at Casey’s camp allowed him to get in here and attack Casey and Ivy.”

Lion met his eyes. The muscles were tight in the kid’s face. “I have much to learn.”

Blade laughed. “Oh yeah. You do.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Hope brought two glasses of iced tea out to Feral the next afternoon. She was taking a short break. She’d finished Axle’s bike, but there were three more waiting for her. The guys here had a never-ending queue of bikes that had gone unmaintained for too long.

The afternoon was another scorcher. They sat in a couple of old metal chairs beneath the welcome shade of a giant cottonwood. The pair of lawn chairs, with the rusted parts painted over, had been payment from one of the club members.

There’d been no word from Mads all day. The cell service up there was iffy at times. She’d tried to reach him, but his phone just rang. She had no idea if her calls were even getting to him.
 

“Did you hear the latest?” Feral asked.

“No. What?”

“Lion—you know the weird kid who rode with you—they’re saying the Feds took him.”

“What?”

“Yeah. For real.”

“How do you know? What makes you think it was the Feds and not that he just wandered off?”

Feral shrugged. “Everyone knows about the kids that live here, but no one really gets why they’re here. They kinda creep everyone out. Maybe they’re the whole reason the Feds are lingering around here. Maybe they just needed one of the kids to fuel their investigation. Maybe they nabbed him when they saw him out and about.”

Hope looked at him. “You don’t think so, do you?”

“Maybe.”

“God, if they did, it’s all my fault.”

“Why is it your fault?”

Hope caught herself before blurting out the truth. “Because I wanted him to go. Lion went because of me.” She sipped her tea. “Where are the Feds staying while they’re in the area? Are they at a hotel in town?”

“No, they have a house." He smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, man—you weren’t here for that excitement. The club broke some hell on the Feds’ place. About a dozen of the club’s guys died. Some of Amir’s, too. It was a big deal. They thought they’d get another chance at the bastards when the eastern clubbers came out a few weeks ago and there was that big fight in town. But that didn’t go down as they wanted.”

“So where is their house, do you know?”

“Yeah. You know that Wolf Creek Bend Therapeutic Riding Center?”

“I do.”

“Well, it’s the turn before that. A big old log house. It’s huge, but it’s set back from the road. If you get to the riding center, turn around and go back one turn. You going over there?”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because that weird kid is…my friend.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not. Feral, you can’t tell a soul. Not even Mad Dog.”

“Aw, hell, Hope. I can’t keep secrets from Mads. He’ll kick my ass. And worse, kick me out of the club.”

“You aren’t a member now.”

“No, but why the hell do you think I’ve been doing my time, serving him? You think I
like
watching the members’ bikes?”

Hope sighed. She sat forward on the chair and looked at him. “Avoid him for a few hours, okay? Just don’t run into him. After that, if he asks you, tell him. But don’t offer him the info, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. But what do I do if you don’t come back?”