The Rise (The Alexa Montgomery Saga) (10 page)

Also, there were people who needed to be punished.

The door to the office opened, and in stepped Andre, the most loyal and trusted of all his Warriors. Following him was a boy with reddish-brown hair, striking green eyes, and a face far too kind to have been born of King William’s loins. But Jackson was his son, nonetheless. He had raised the boy since he had been just a pup. And whatever twisted sense of love the King was capable of feeling, he felt it for Jackson.

He hoped that his suspicions about his adoptive son were unfounded. If reports he had received were true, they weren’t. And that was a shame, such a shame.

King William rose from his seat behind the desk and flicked his wrist dismissively. “Leave us, Andre,” he said.

The Warrior left, shutting the door to the office behind him.

“Jackson, my boy,” said King William, walking around to the front of the desk, the heels of his shoes clicking softly with each step, his hands spreading out at his sides.

“Father,” said Jackson.

“Come, come, sit with me a moment,” King William said, leading Jackson over to the couch on the far side of the room.

Jackson took a seat on the couch. King William sat across from him in the armchair. For a moment, King William let silence hang between them. Jackson didn’t so much as shift under his observation. He had taught the boy well.

“How have you been, my Son?” he asked. “Well, I hope.”

Jackson nodded once. “And you, Father?”

King William sat back, folding his jeweled hands in his lap, crossing one leg over the other. “Oh, I’ve seen better days,” he began, his voice smooth, “I’ve seen better days, indeed.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow, and concern passed behind his green eyes. This made something close to appreciation touch the King, but not quite. The boy was the only person left whom he considered family. He had forgotten long ago how it felt to be loved. What was left now of his heart were just an empty shell, bits and pieces of it slowly crumbling away with each breath.

He smiled. “Do tell me what you’ve been up to, my Son. I feel as though it has been ages since we last spoke,” he said.

“I’ve been doing what you asked of me, Father,” was all Jackson said. Smart boy, he was, always had been.

The King tipped his head. “Ah, and what is it I asked you to do?”

Jackson’s shoulders grew tense, so small a change in his posture that a less trained eye would not have noticed at all. “You asked me to keep an eye on the Sun Warrior,” said Jackson. “That’s what I did.”

The King nodded, still smiling. “And where is she now? The Sun Warrior? Can you tell me that?”

Jackson took just a moment too long before answering. “I don’t know.”

“I see. And why is that, my Son?”

Jackson held his father’s gaze, but it was not easy. “She left the city while I slept. I haven’t seen or heard from her since. Is everything all right?” he asked, and another look of concern passed behind his eyes. Anger spiraled in the King’s stomach when he reached out and did a small Search on his son. As he feared, the boy’s concern was not for his father, but rather for the Sun Warrior. So it was as he had suspected. The boy had fallen in love with the Sun Warrior. He had
betrayed
him.

“Jackson, you disappoint me. You disappoint me greatly,” he said, and now the tiny bit of affection that usually rode his words when he spoke to his son was gone as though it had never been, and his voice was contained and cold. His smile vanished like a ghost.

Jackson’s poker face slipped for only the tiniest of moments, fear gripping him hard and rough. He knew now that his father knew of his indiscretions, he could see it in the glint of his eyes and the turn of his lips. He could feel it in the icy cold of his voice.

He said nothing.

“You screwed up, Jackson,” the King said plainly, after a good enough amount of time had passed in silence for his boy to stew over his failure and in his fear. His tone was deceptively calm and casual. “You told me about the Sun Warrior, about how powerful she was, and yet somehow you failed to mention her sister. I take it you had a momentary bout of memory loss? Or perhaps you thought a Lamia/Searcher hybrid was not something noteworthy?”

Jackson opened his mouth to say something, probably to lie. But he knew that that would only serve to sink him deeper into the crud that was up to his knees already. His father would know it if he lied. His father always
knew.
He had the wisdom to drop his eyes to his hands, but still, Jackson said nothing. There was nothing to be said.

King William leaned forward in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests and pulling him toward his son. “You can make it right,” he whispered. Slowly, Jackson’s eyes came up and he looked at his father, whose smile had returned as though it had never left, the gentleness back in his tone. “You can prove your loyalty to me. If you want to, that is.”

Jackson’s face showed relief tinged with dread, and more rage filled the King. But by the sound of his voice and the look on his face, you wouldn’t know it. Showing anger was showing weakness, and King William was not a man who liked to look weak.

Jackson nodded slowly, meeting his father’s silver eyes. “Yes, I want that, Father. Thank you,” he said.

King William clasped his hands. “Good. It’s simple really, and I don’t think I have to tell you that I would not afford you this most generous opportunity were you not my son.”

Jackson nodded again, once, shoulders tight.

“All you have to do is find the Sun Warrior and bring her to the place I tell you,” said King William, and he had to clench his teeth to keep his sympathetic mask in place when Jackson’s shoulders tightened a fraction more.

“You don’t have to harm her, Son. Just bring her. Bring her, and all your mistakes will be forgiven.”

Jackson hesitated, and King William was sure he saw a touch of hope in his green eyes. “How will I find her?” he asked. “She could be anywhere by now.”

The King’s smile turned into an ugly grin, his fangs flashing. “Oh, you just leave that to me, my Son. You just leave that to me.”

Jackson gave one final nod and rose from the couch, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “As you wish, Father. Consider it done.”

Alexa

The first rays of sunlight streamed in through the windshield. I was glad that the van had no windows in the back, where the silence that had fallen remained. I had been dozing in and out of sleep, my knees curled up to my stomach, my head on Kayden’s lap, his calloused fingers stroking my hair. I was so drained, so exhausted from the things I’d battled and experienced in these last few days that I felt just nothing. Empty. And I welcomed the hollowness, even though it seemed to carry with it an ache that was something like hunger pains, but not.

Soraya slept next to me, her head resting on her mother’s legs, dark curls springing and falling every which way. I didn’t want to sleep anymore. Nightmares about unspeakable things haunted my sleep. So I lay staring at Soraya’s little face, her dark lashes pressed down against her round cheeks, peaceful. Such a sweet, innocent little person, who had already seen and suffered things that most people live to death without ever having to face. If there were any good to any of this, it was that this little girl no longer had to live in slavery. I clung to the thread of happiness this brought me. It was all I had left.

Collectively, everyone in the van had explained to me what had happened. With the exception of Kayden, they spoke of my sister as one might speak of a fabled, mythic, fairytale hero. Whatever she had done to them, they were now enraptured by Nelly, especially Tommy, who hovered over my sister like a worried mother. What it all came down to was this: Nelly had been forced to show her powers, to reveal what she was, in order to escape Two Rivers. Daniel was dead, killed by Lamias. The Lamias who had attacked them were also dead, killed by Nelly, who had subsequently seemed to lose her mind to the Lamia half of her. King William was more than likely red at the ears right now searching for us. In other words, the shit had really hit the fan. And it was because I hadn’t been there to stop it. It was my fault.

Ah, so this is how we react when things get rough. A pity party. I would have expected better, Warrior.

I didn’t respond to the voice in my head. If I wanted to wallow in my misery for a little bit, I would. I’d earned it. As much as I would like it, I just couldn’t be tough all the time. I couldn’t just keep on climbing as the mountain grew steeper and steeper. Too much was happening. I was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of running. Tired of hurting. Just tired.

In front of me, Soraya stirred, cracked open her eyes, golden like her uncle’s. “Hey,” she said.

I sniffed, smiled. “Hey.”

Soraya yawned and stretched, pushing her curls out of her face. “Mommy,” she said, looking up at Catherine. “I have to go pee-pee.”

Catherine sighed. “Okay, Baby,” she said. “Victoria, we have to stop. Is there a gas station or something up ahead?”

Victoria nodded, rubbing her eyes. I guess we were all tired. We had been driving for four hours. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll stop at the next one I see and signal the others. I need to stretch anyway. And someone else should drive.”

“I’ll drive next,” said Patterson. It was the first time I’d heard him speak since we got in the van, and his voice sounded strange to me now. He was just staring out the windshield with wide eyes, hardly moving. “I slept, so I’m awake enough to do it.”

Five minutes later we were pulling off the highway and into a truck stop. When the van stopped, Tommy slid the back door open and we all climbed out. In the light of the day I could see how awful we all looked. Shadows hung below our eyes like dark half-moons. Our clothes were rumpled and our hair disheveled. Looking at the brown rags Catherine and Soraya wore, I knew that we would raise alarm if we walked into the store looking as we did.

“You guys wait here for a second,” I said, shooing Soraya and her mother back into the van before anyone could see them. “I’ll go buy you some real clothes.” I looked down. “And some shoes. You can’t go in looking like that.”

Catherine nodded and they climbed back into the van and slid the door shut. When I saw the look on Kayden’s face, my heart wrenched a little. He was afraid to leave them with Nelly. I didn’t blame him, and this made guilt and pain stab like a corkscrew in my chest.

I touched his arm. “You can wait here with them,” I said.

Kayden’s hand came up and cupped my face. “Thank you,” he said. I nodded.

Turning back to the group, I saw that the others had joined us from the Mercedes, except for my Mother, who no doubt had the same issue Soraya and Catherine had. I looked at the Queen. “Where are you taking us?” I asked, not nicely.

She cringed a little at my tone. “About an hour from here there is a stronghold of people who have escaped the King’s rule. There is nowhere else we can go, Warrior. There are people who can help us there. We need protection.”

We don’t need shit from this bitch, Warrior. I say we kill her.