Page 7 of Kai (Alpha Heroes #13)

Kai

The sound of her name on my lips exuded power, was power.

It rallied the forces within me and contracted into a massive fist in my chest, ready to strike against any foe that aimed to harm Cece.

It evoked the determination to win that every Marine carried into battle, but it was stronger, vivid, even more intense. Funny. It felt like sorcery.

“We will fight.” I kept my voice low and my stare fixed on her, even as I monitored the clatter of boots rushing through the door at ground level. “You don’t give up. Do you copy, Sorceress?”

“Sorceress?” She laid a hand on her chest. “Me?”

“You.” I inclined my head. “Cersi was a famous sorceress in Greek mythology. Am I right?”

“More like an infamous one,” she put in, her attention fixed on me.

“She was strong, feared, and powerful,” I said, and she gave a small nod. “So are you. You will win this fight. We will prevail. Do you read me?”

Her gaze steeled, answering my challenge. “I read you.”

Cece didn’t have any reason to trust me yet, but resolve set her jaw, and she straightened her back until she stood to her full height.

A pair of long legs braced beneath her black leggings.

It combined with the athletic top she wore to hug her smooth curves in all the right places, showcasing the proportions between a pair of nicely rounded breasts, a small waist, and the soft flare of her hips.

Her body’s proud stance reminded me she was an Astor, brave like her brother and sisters.

A familiar focus settled over me, my battle Zen, the calm before the storm. I peeked over the railing, tracking the tangos. Following someone’s loud commands, the men cleared the first floor like the professionals they were. NWO mercs for sure, based on their MO, weapons, and gear.

A minor explosion rattled the ground floor. Someone tripped one of my many booby traps, the first one I’d rigged along the staircase. A man cried out in pain.

Cece pointed a finger at me and mouthed, “You?”

I bobbed my head. Understanding gleamed in her remarkable eyes.

The detonation was small enough not to compromise the stairs’ structural integrity, but large enough to inform me as to the mercs’ progress, slow them down, and get one or two of them out of circulation, if the howling echoing in the lighthouse was any indication. It also concealed our movements.

Peeking over the railing, I glimpsed a man grabbing the wounded merc near the foot of the stairs and hurling the bleeding fucker out of the way.

From my angle above, I could tell he wore a black cowboy hat and sported massively wide shoulders.

He retreated out of view but kept shouting orders in a booming voice.

His accent was common American. He swore like your average Marine.

I crossed my finger over my mouth and pointed down. Cece nodded, and moving quietly, we descended the steps. Keeping my ear out, I surmised the mercs were now moving more cautiously. Lots of nooks and crannies to slow them down. Lots of traps waiting for them.

They called out every time they found one of my laser-triggered devices. I’d also set up a few old-fashioned wire snares to leave behind a collection of confusion. Some were live. Some were not. They were all designed to buy us valuable time.

Cece and I sneaked down to the next level and stole into the small, tidy bedroom at my ten o’clock. The room had shocked me when I’d first scouted it on my way up. It was as stark as a monk’s cell, the antithesis of Astor House’s opulence. No luxury for Cece. She lived like a cloistered monk.

I closed the door and wedged a chair under the knob.

Silently, I climbed onto the bed, opened the glass-and-lead window above it, and looked down.

The bedroom’s only window faced the back of the tower.

Tendrils of fog clung to the bottom of the structure.

The moonlight allowed me to catch glimpses of the ground below, where a narrow ledge perched beneath the window at the edge of the cliff.

The ledge bordered the base of the lighthouse before it widened into separate rocky areas on either side.

Dangerous, unpredictable blowholes pockmarked the wider rock shelves, spewing sea spray and roaring like beasts.

All around the cliff, the ocean crashed against the rocks, and the waves boomed on impact.

The wild landscape explained why the mercs hadn’t bothered to secure this side of the lighthouse.

Nobody in their right mind would attempt an escape from this angle. Nobody but me.

Keeping track of the sounds coming from the stairwell, I extracted a brick of C-4 from my pack and inserted the detonator. Cece looked on as I rigged it for an explosion and duct taped it to the door frame. If anyone opened the door, they were gonna face mayhem.

With the explosives rigged, I took a knee, pulled my ropes from my ruck, and after doubling it up, fastened it to the bed’s heavy iron headboard. If something went wrong, the rope might yank at the bed, but the frame would wedge against the smallish window.

Not perfect, but it was my best option.

I pulled a harness out of my ruck, clipped it to the rope, and after settling it on the ground, mouthed, “Step up.”

Cece looked at the window and back at me. For a few seconds, she held my stare, as if probing my mind. She wasn’t sure about this, about me. Seconds turned to eons. I spotted the universe constructing and deconstructing in the depths of her striking eyes.

Thena and Missy had said Cece’s eyes were gray, but gray was too simple a color to describe her gaze’s luminosity.

Her pale eyes transformed the light into the most delicate shade of blue I’d ever seen.

Her irises sparkled like glacial ice, a translucent blue that leaned to silver, a close match to the full moon’s rays pouring through the window.

Changeling eyes, my grandmother would’ve called them. Sorceress eyes, eyes that shocked, intrigued, and enthralled with a rare radiance that beamed from inside of her as if she was a lighthouse herself.

It struck me that I could look into those eyes forever.

Yeah. The universe wanted to play hardball with me.

My decision , I reminded myself. But not now. Later.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked in a breathy voice.

“Best and fastest option.” I motioned for her to hurry.

With a grimace, Cece stepped into the harness. I slid it up her legs and fit it around her body.

“You’re going out the window,” I whispered, tightening the straps. “I’m gonna lower you to the ground. When you get to the bottom, step out of the harness. Understood?”

She nodded, and not a single protest escaped her tight lips.

“Stand on the bed,” I instructed while I tugged on my gloves. “Leave the laptop case.”

“But—”

“No worries. I’ll bring it down.” I smoothed the length of rope and coiled it at my feet before I gripped it between my gloved fingers. “Step out onto the windowsill.”

“What if I fall?” She peered down at the five-story drop.

“You won’t fall.” I braced on my feet. “I won’t let you. Climb on the windowsill and sit facing me.”

Balancing a foot on the iron headboard, she lifted one leg and then the other until she perched on the window ledge.

“Now, straddle the window.” I held the rope taut as she did what I asked. “Good. Twist around, balance on your belly, and lower your other leg outside. Remember. I got you.”

She followed my instructions until the rope tightened, and she was in position.

“Excellent,” I praised. “Try to keep yourself facing the wall and use your hands to steady yourself on the building. Tug on the rope as soon as you are out of the harness. Sneak down the rocks as far down the cliff as you dare and wait for me there. Don’t let them see you. Are you ready?”

Not that she had a choice, but she gave another nod.

Working hand over hand, I gave the rig length, watching her sink below the window frame, until only her face and those icy blue eyes remained visible to me.

“Don’t get yourself killed,” she whisper-shouted. “Don’t leave me alone down there.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

Letting out more rope, I paced myself, but I sped up as the clatter of boots got closer. Two minutes into the hoist, three tugs shook the rope before it went slack. I leaped on the bed, leaned out the window, and glimpsed Cece, all in black, scurrying down the rocks.

She had heart, that woman.

The mercs made it to our level.

“Check the bathroom,” Booming Voice ordered. “Clear this floor. How the hell did we not know that this Astor princess had experience with booby traps?”

I chuckled without a sound. The mercs and their fucker- in-chief hadn’t realized I was here yet.

Good going, Marine . I clipped my carbine and the laptop case to the front of my vest, strapped on my ruck, and grabbed the thick rope with a double grip.

I’d planned on a controlled descent, but as I mounted the windowsill and twisted around in a crouch, the knob turned.

Fuck this .

I stepped out the window and launched into a controlled rappel.

The old walls rushed before me. The heat of the synthetic twine came through the gloves as they protected my hands.

I was three quarters of the way down when the blast quaked through the lighthouse and shattered the night’s stillness.

Debris shot out the window, as did the flames and embers that rained on me.

Smoke puffed out in a black stream. Screams rang out in the night.

The explosion must’ve lifted the bed. The rope dropped, presumably when the headboard jammed against the window. By then, I was nearing the ground. Still holding on to the rope, I dropped like a stone.

Shit . I stabilized my carbine and the case with one hand, tucked in, and prepared for the crash. This is gonna hurt a little.

I flexed my knees as my neoprene booties hit the ground, absorbing some of the impact. A shock jolted up my legs. My knees screeched as I rolled to minimize the blow, keep my bones from breaking, and prevent myself from falling down the cliff.

My ruck dug into my spine, my carbine smacked me on the arm, and Cece’s laptop case slapped hard against my tactical vest. Somehow, I steered myself off the ledge and avoided a catastrophic fall into the roiling breakwaters.

I ended up colliding back first into a pile of rocks. The breath shot out of me.

Forcing my body to untuck, I sprawled on the ground, dazed and aching. The night sky whirled above me, a kaleidoscope of silver light and shooting stars that reminded me of Cece’s eyes.

Move, K-man , I reminded myself. Go!

I tried to suck in some air. Anytime now, the surviving mercs would get over the commotion that rocked the lighthouse, wise up to Cece’s escape, and disperse to chase us.

The rocks rumbled beneath me. The blowholes exploded, and spurts of sea spray rained down.

Despite the pain throbbing in different places, I forced myself to inflate my chest and grabbed another breath.

A loud gasp issued from my throat, a desperate inhale capable of ripping oxygen from the air.

This time, the breath made it into my lungs.

Okay, all right . I was operational again.

I shook off the spins, lifted on my elbow, and grappled to unhook the carbine from my vest. After my brisk rappel and my hard landing, it had gotten tangled with the strap that fastened Cece’s laptop case to my vest.

Fuck the gods . I should’ve ditched the damn case, but Cece had been adamant, and I would’ve had to carry her out of the lighthouse kicking and screaming without her laptop in tow. My fingers engaged in a frantic effort. I unclasped the case and tried to untangle the strap from the weapon.

Too late.

The colossal beast of a merc that stalked around the tower came at us like a charging rhino.

The black Stetson gave him away as the crew leader I’d spotted inside the lighthouse.

My body forgot the pain. As I shed the case with my carbine still entangled with it, the son of a bitch came to a sudden stop on the rocks at the opposite side of the ledge.

He stood a good distance away, and yet death glowered at me through a pair of protruding eyes. The cruel grin that twisted the merc’s face said it all. A second stretched out as he braced on his feet, lifted his AK-47 to his cheek, and peered through his scope.

My survival instincts kicked in. I rolled one way, then the other, avoiding the automatic rounds that pinged all around me. Challenging my bad odds, I grappled for the handgun strapped to my hip.

Even as I scrambled to avoid his rounds, movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention. A shadow materialized out of a crevasse. A flash of black raced over the rocks behind the merc. I recognized Cece’s figure as she launched toward the man.

My guts froze.

What the hell was she doing?

Dying. The reckless woman was about to die in my stead.