Page 3

King

Marinah can handle the Hellspawn, I told myself as I marched Che through the citadel to his temporary room. His mother was away, and for now, his room was right next to the one I shared with Marinah. His close proximity hadn’t done our sex life any favors, but then again, nothing had in months. Two days ago, I’d managed to sneak into the shower with her for a few stolen minutes. Even that had been interrupted. I was about to lose my mind, and the guttersnipe beside me wasn’t helping.

“If you leave the room again, you’re dealing with Marinah, and I promise I won’t save you,” I warned.

“Will she hurt Ruth?” he asked, his lips quivering as his small head tilted to the side. His big eyes blinked with just enough moisture to make me question whether it was an act.

Just great. I’d like to think Marinah would knock some sense into Ruth, but I doubted it would happen. The image in my head was more of a catfight with no clear winner until one of them was dead. “Ruth will get what she deserves, and so will you.” Heartless. Just add it to my name.

I opened the door and gave him a gentle push on his shoulders. He turned around, pride shining in his expression. “I almost killed one of the monsters,” he said, lifting his skinny arm to show off a tiny muscle. “I’ll kill one before I’m seven.”

How was I supposed to stay angry, or not laugh, for that matter? I placed my hand on his head and ruffled his hair. “If Marinah catches you again, you won’t sit for an entire year. There’ll be plenty of time to kill hellhounds once you’re older.”

I closed the door and walked away after Che stepped inside. The loss of Boot rolled over me, landing like a punch in the gut. On top of that, I worried about Marinah constantly. Just when I thought we were making progress, she’d act impulsively and terrify me all over again. She’d come so far, but handling her required a delicate balance of compassion, resolve, and aggravation. She was quite good at pushing my buttons. Not just mine, but everyone’s. Strike that. She lived for it.

In a way, she was like Ruth. Being a Shadow Warrior didn’t make her invincible, and I did my best to remind myself of the patience Greystone showed when he trained me as a teenager. It had to have been worse. Still, Marinah was so much stronger than she realized. She just didn’t know how to harness that strength, to focus it. Instead, she let her past mistakes dictate her actions, carrying the weight of her own self-doubt. She hated the idea of anyone thinking she was weak. We don’t. That weight was all hers.

The thought of her reckless behavior, such as nearly severing her fingers, sent an involuntary surge of K-5 through my system, my muscles tightening with the rush. I hadn’t been able to show my frustration because it only made matters worse. The surge increased.

“King?” Nokita’s voice called from the end of the hall.

I growled low, launching myself at him without thought. He took the hit, crashing to the floor. Nokita was smart enough to stay down as I turned and stormed off, stomping into my bedroom and slamming the door behind me. If he had any sense, he wouldn’t follow.

My body began to shift, melding back into human form as I took a long, deep breath, forcing my human side to take over. The first year of mating was volatile enough under normal circumstances. If the world weren’t falling apart, Marinah and I would have been closed off from everyone, left alone for a year to let our hormones settle. But as things stood, we didn’t have that luxury.

I peeled off my filthy pants and leather harness before stepping into the shower, letting the water wash away some of my anger. It took a good twenty minutes to calm myself. After getting out, I ordered food from the kitchen. Marinah would be hungry when she returned.

An hour later, I was still tapping my foot when she walked into the room, looking as exhausted as I’d expected. We’d been burning the candle at both ends, and the toll showed.

I stood and pulled her into my arms. “I’m guessing the hel—” I corrected myself, “Ruth is still in one piece?”

“Go ahead, call her Hellspawn. That’s what she is,” Marinah said, a soft growl edging her words as she pressed against me. “She’s also my new student, and I’ll be putting her through her paces just like Boot did with me.”

I breathed into her hair, the tension in my body and mind easing as Marinah’s presence mellowed the savage beast. “I doubt her mother will like that,” I murmured. Ruth might be the Hellspawn, but Missy, her mother, was the one who’d spawned her. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

Marinah kept her head against my chest, her shoulders lifting slightly in a shrug. “Ruth’s first assignment is to get her mother’s permission. That poor woman doesn’t stand a chance. Ruth manipulated me until she got exactly what she wanted, and I’m sure Che was in on it too.”

“You don’t have time to train her,” I said.

Her body stiffened at my authoritative tone, but I didn’t let her go. Sparks were probably flying from her eyes. Thankfully, she didn’t pull away. “I don’t have time to chase her around the island, either,” she shot back. “And she endangers Che, which I can’t allow. She’ll be too tired to move, much less chase hellhounds, when I’m through with her. The entire island will thank me.”

I still couldn’t see how this was going to work, but I knew it wasn’t the time to argue. I leaned back and met her fiery gaze, forcing myself to refocus. “Dinner is on the way, and you need to shower. Che is in his room for the night. I’ve had food sent to him, and it’ll give him some time to think about the trouble he’s caused.”

“I’ll deal with Che later,” she said, already heading to the bathroom. She tossed her clothes onto the floor as she walked, a clear sign of how exhausted she was. I caught a fleeting glimpse of a very naked Marinah before the door shut behind her. I groaned. Beast groaned. When it came to mating, we were in perfect agreement.

I shook my head. Training Ruth wouldn’t help matters. Marinah had too much on her plate already, and this could push her over the edge.

A knock at the door snapped me from my thoughts. “Enter,” I called, bracing myself for whatever came next.

The heavy wooden door slammed against the wall as Beck barreled into the room. I didn’t need to guess why he was here.

“The last thing that child needs are lessons in killing hellhounds,” he snapped. “She isn’t a Warrior and has no business being anywhere near those monsters. Why would your mate even suggest such a thing?”

I shoved aside my lingering sexual frustration and the fleeting plans I’d had to join Marinah in the shower and gave Beck my full attention. “I take it Ruth talked Missy into allowing her to train with Marinah?”

Beck huffed loudly and threw himself into a chair. “They’re having an all-out war about it right now. It was too dangerous to hang around, so I came here to hide until the fireworks and nuclear explosions settle. I had no idea kids were this difficult.”

I fought back a smile. Beck’s sudden leap into family life wasn’t something anyone had seen coming. Missy had shot him out of the sky when he was parachuting into U.S. territory. After he survived both the shot and the rough landing, Ruth had tried to convince her mom to give Ruth the gun and let her shoot him again. Thankfully, Missy had a backbone and refused her little psychopath of a child.

Keeping my expression neutral, I said, “That kid could single-handedly take out the entire hellhound population, and you know it. If the hellhounds hadn’t already started leaving the island before Ruth arrived, I’d swear they were running from her now.”

Beck swiped his hand over his face, leaning back in the chair and covering his eyes. “She has no idea she’s just a kid.”

“She stopped being a child the day her father died,” I said evenly. “Same as the rest of us. When this whole thing started, children were the largest casualties. The ones who learned to fight are the lucky ones. And if they were very lucky, they survived.”

The next part of what I needed to say wasn’t easy, mostly because I was nowhere near sold on the idea myself. “The Hellspawn needs constant supervision, rules she’ll actually follow, and something to keep her out of trouble. This might be the perfect solution.”

Beck pulled his hands from his face, staring at me with undisguised horror. Beast grumbled low in my chest, but I calmed him with an internal nudge. Fifteen seconds passed, entirely too long before Beck grunted and looked away, clearly unsettled.

The sound of the water shutting off caught my attention, and I glanced toward the bathroom door. “My mate will be out of the shower shortly,” I said evenly, “and if she’s naked, chances are good I’ll kill you.”

Beck shot out of the chair like it had caught fire. He was dealing with his own mating rage, and public interactions weren’t doing him any favors. As my second, his volatile energy only added fuel to my already unstable mood. “I think I’ll go for a swim,” he muttered, throwing open the door and stalking out.

I fought back laughter. Beck detested the swimming pool and often referred to it as a bacteria pit, despite the fact that any bacteria, even if present, wouldn’t harm him.

A few seconds later, Marinah walked in, just as naked as I’d predicted. Without a hint of self-consciousness, she grabbed the discarded clothes she’d dropped on her way to the shower and tossed them into the laundry bin. “I heard voices,” she said casually, “and hoped someone delivered our food.”

I watched as she moved, her body swaying and flexing effortlessly as she reached into a drawer and pulled out a pair of underwear. She lifted one leg gracefully, sliding it on, and my breath hitched. When I didn’t respond, she paused, turning to face me. The heat in her eyes flared instantly, matching the fire coursing through me.

She tossed aside the shirt she’d just pulled from the drawer and walked toward me. My body responded, and it took additional coaxing to get me out of my chair.

Of course, that was the exact moment a knock sounded at the door, announcing dinner.

“Oops, I better duck into the bathroom,” Marinah said with a playful giggle, a rare sound from her. Judging by the frustration in my expression, it was likely the cause of her amusement.

“Run away,” I muttered as she disappeared into the bathroom. My gaze flicked toward the door, my jaw tightening. “But I just might kill whoever is serving tonight.”

Her teasing laughter floated from the bathroom. I opened the door to find one of the human women from the kitchen. She was middle-aged, with a tentative, shaky smile that barely hid her unease. After experiencing Marinah’s mating rage firsthand a few weeks before, the women in the kitchen had decided that sending older, more composed women to deliver meals was safer. Though Marinah had somewhat gained control over the mating rage, they weren’t wrong.

I stepped back, allowing her to push the cart into the room. It wouldn’t do to make her run off in tears, so I swallowed my irritation and forced a polite smile.

She set the table and arranged our plates with practiced efficiency. Once the food was laid out, she hurriedly pushed the cart back out the door without a backward glance.

“Coast is clear,” I called, uncovering my plate and inhaling deeply. The aroma made my stomach growl.

“Smells delicious,” Marinah said as she stepped out of the bathroom, slipping on a shirt to cover her bare chest. Not that it would make eating any easier for me. At this point, nothing would, short of thirty uninterrupted days of sex. Who am I kidding? Ninety days, and even that would have trouble satisfying me. Shoving the thought aside, I focused on my food, though my eyes drifted constantly toward her.

Watching Marinah eat was a lesson in unapologetic gluttony. She tore into her dinner with the kind of gusto only someone who’d survived years on Federation mush could muster. Fresh fruit, vegetables, and especially meat, which her Warrior body needed, were a luxury she hadn’t had for years before coming to the island. Now she was a one-woman eating machine. Conversation was always sparse while she ate.

“You just missed Beck,” I said, breaking the silence when she went for seconds.

She looked up from the soft tortilla she was piling high with vegetables and extra meat. “And?” she prompted, her tone mildly interested.

“World War IV is currently raging between Missy and Ruth.” We rarely referred to the original war with the hellhounds as World War III, though technically, that’s what it was. Tonight, it seemed appropriate.

“Ruth will win,” she said with a casual shrug, then shoved the end of the burrito into her mouth, letting out a contented sigh as she chewed. “Good,” she added after swallowing, before taking another huge bite.

Her eyes were shadowed with dark circles, and her usual edge was more brittle. She’d been grouchier lately, which hadn’t escaped my notice. I’m sure I was too.

“I’m worried about you,” I said carefully, knowing it could set her off.

Her exaggerated eye roll spoke volumes. “How so?”

“You go without a break,” I replied gently.

Marinah decided to finish her burrito before answering. As she prepared another, her sharp tone made her opinion clear. “Kettle, meet pot. Pot, meet kettle. If you’ve forgotten, we’re at war.” Her eyes burned when she continued, “Hellhounds are killing humans, the U.S. Federation is kidnapping people against their will, and the world could come to a complete end at any moment. If I left anything out, feel free to correct me.” She paused, waiting for a response, but I stayed silent. “If humans have any chance at survival, they need to learn how to fight and kill hellhounds regardless of age. That child watched her father get torn apart. If all she can think about is killing hellhounds, she should at least be good at it.”

She attacked her next burrito with the same intensity as the first, her frustration fueling her appetite.

When I was sure she’d finished speaking, I leaned in and went straight for the jugular. “Have you convinced yourself of this yet?”

She froze mid-bite, placed the half-eaten burrito on her plate, and slid the entire thing aside. Then she let her forehead drop to the table with a soft thunk, knocking it lightly several times before looking up at me sheepishly. “What have I gotten myself into?” she groaned.

“If anyone can take that heathen in hand, it’s you,” I said and added a grin.

“I hate kids.”

I placed my hand over hers. “You love kids.”

Her moan was even louder this time, filled with exasperation. “All she wants is to be trained, and everyone ignores her. She’s got more fight in her than I ever did. It’s so unfair that she’s human, and I’m the one with all the phenomenal strength and ability.”

Shaking my head, I grabbed another tortilla and began assembling a burrito. “This conversation is turning into a pity party.”

Marinah scooted her plate back in front of her, picked up the half-eaten stuffed tortilla, crammed it into her mouth, and pointed at her lips, signaling she was done talking, and we finished our meal in silence, both lost in thought.

For my part, I was contemplating sleep. Well, maybe not just sleep. Marinah, on the other hand, looked completely drained. Her eyes were already drooping, and by the time she finished her last bite, she was swaying in her chair.

“What are you doing?” she asked groggily as I lifted her into my arms.

“Carrying my very tired mate to bed so she can save the world, including the hellspawn, tomorrow,” I replied, cradling her close.

She snuggled against me, her voice a soft whisper that made it nearly impossible to let her go. “You smell good.”

I sat down with her in my lap, holding her as her eyes fluttered closed. Her hand rested on my chest, gradually relaxing as her breathing deepened. When the soft sound of her snores reached me, I stayed still, letting her scent and warmth reassure me that, for this brief moment, all was right with the world.

The peace didn’t last. Someone started pounding on the door, and Marinah didn’t stir as I gently placed her on the bed, doing my best not to wake her. My frustration rose as I crossed the room, ready to intercept and quite possibly kill whoever was disturbing her rest.

Beck’s hand was raised for another round of pounding when I swung the door open. “The Federation attacked an outpost and killed everyone. Missy’s people are warning the others. We need a large team there. Now.”

Before I could respond, I felt Marinah’s hand smooth across my back. Sleep was officially off the table.

“Gather the guard and have them in the conference room in ten,” she commanded. I gave a quick nod, closing the door behind Beck before turning to face her.

“Sleep is overrated,” she muttered through a yawn, stretching her arms over her head.

“So is sex,” I growled, frustration seeping into every word.

A soft, sleepy smile appeared on her lips. “That could never be overrated.”

I pulled her close, claiming her lips in a kiss that was far too short and even more frustrating.