Page 20

King

Within two minutes, Marinah was snoring softly. I rested my hand on her back, feeling each steady breath. She was worried. So was I. I never truly understood fear until Marinah entered my life. She’d asked what we’d do if we lost each other, and I made light of it, but I didn’t tell her the truth. Wherever she goes, I will follow. Our souls are intertwined, and I won’t live without her.

The difference is, if I fall, she’ll survive. Marinah is our destiny. She’ll lead the Shadow Warriors and fulfill the purpose she was born for. She only thinks she needs me. The truth is, Marinah needs no one.

I closed my eyes, letting exhaustion take me. An hour later, the sirens shattered the silence, their screaming blare filling the room.

The sun wouldn’t be up for a few hours. It was the perfect time to attack.

Marinah shot up in a whirlwind of motion. “Hurry! I didn’t bother taking off my boots. Why did you?” she demanded as I laced mine up.

“I don’t love and caress my boots the way you do,” I replied, smirking. “Mine are fine for the floor.”

“Argh,” she grumbled every few seconds until I finished.

“Don’t forget the antidote,” I told her before she could leave the room. I picked up the first syringe and injected it into her upper arm. She did the same for me, then gave me a piqued look suggesting we were late for the war. I stomped out after her.

We ran into Beck on our way. “Ships on the horizon,” he said, falling into step with us. “They’re not moving closer.”

“They’ll release the hellhounds first. Are Cabel and his team clear of the water?” Marinah demanded.

“Yes. Missy has the archers stationed at the shore, ready and waiting.”

“Tell them to shoot at will once they spot hellhounds coming in,” Marinah ordered. “I need to get to the armory, and then I’ll head her way. We’ll bomb their ships when I give the order.”

Beck nodded sharply and took off in the opposite direction as we continued toward the armory.

Inside, Ruth and Che were sprawled on cots, sound asleep. They were so exhausted that even the sirens hadn’t woken them. Marinah strode into the room, barely pausing as she plucked the armory key from Ruth’s slack fingers.

She locked the heavy metal door behind us as we left, her eyes already scanning ahead, her mind undoubtedly planning our next move.

“Have I ever told you that you’re brilliant?” I asked.

“She’ll be angry but alive when this is over, and at least I didn’t need to force them into the smaller room,” she replied, attempting a smile that worry refused to let through. Once the battle started, she would loosen up.

We headed to the motorbikes next. For someone who had been terrified the first time she rode as a passenger behind me, she’d become a pro. She revved her engine and took off, tires spinning and a cloud of dust rising behind her. I watched for a moment as she picked up speed, her braids flowing behind her like a banner.

Within minutes, we reached the bay, where fifty Warriors stood at attention, waiting for Marinah’s command. The Federation ships were nothing more than small pinpoints on the horizon. Marinah scanned the water, her expression calculating.

“If we can see them, they can see us,” she said. “They know we’re alerted to their presence. As soon as they release the hellhounds with them, we’ll send the planes in.”

Marinah had decided against sending our planes out to sea before the Federation ships hit our waters. I hadn’t questioned her decision, and Beck hadn’t been around when it was made. Marinah always had her reasons, and I didn’t need to understand them to trust her.

We had four operational passenger planes and sixteen fighter jets. The downside? Only six pilots. Shadow Warriors and humans were still in training, but they weren’t ready yet. Like everything else in this fucked-up new world, we made do with what we had.

The hellhounds we’d secured in the bay were still in place, without the Federation’s knowledge, and we had our own frequency signal to release them. The last thing they’d expect were hounds in an area where they hadn’t planted them or at least that was the hope. We climbed back on the bikes, joined by the Warriors, and rode to the closest point where the Federation planted hellhounds that they expected to come ashore.

The beach was eerily still, even though more of Missy’s archers stood on the road overlooking the ocean. The waves broke far from the shoreline, and we waited in tense silence.

I removed my boots and shifted while Marinah watched the water.

The first ripples came while it was still dark, the ocean’s surface betraying the movement beneath. The horde emerged; their waterlogged bodies more grotesque than ever. Some had moss dangling from their twisted limbs, while others had missing body parts chewed off by underwater creatures. They moved almost in unison, surging toward the shore like a single entity.

When they hit the beach, the water no longer slowed them down, and their speed increased. Marinah clicked her radio and gave the order. “Air attack on the Federation ships. Now.”

She placed the radio back on her side strap and faced me. “Ready, baby?” She threw me a teasing smile, her eyes alight with a killing gleam.

I answered with a flash of fang. She bent and carefully removed her boots, placing them in the bike’s saddle bag, adjusted her straps, and shifted to Warrior form. She sent me a blown kiss with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

“Let’s kill some hellhounds,” she said, charging forward.

I sprinted after her, using my legs to propel me up and over her tall body so I landed in front.

“Show-off,” she laughed, her voice full of adrenaline as we launched into what we were made for. Kill, Beast whispered inside me. I had no problem obliging.

I swung my sword, cleaving the first hellhound from skull to shoulder in a clean, precise arc. With a slight pivot, I drove the blade’s tip into the next one’s throat, slicing through bone and cartilage. Its waterlogged body made a grotesque sound as I severed its spinal column.

Nearby, Marinah raised her mortuary sword high over her head, bringing it down with a deadly force that felled another hellhound. I turned to the next target, the thrill of battle coursing through me.

Shadow Warriors fought alongside us, steadily dwindling the hordes’ numbers. To the untrained eye, it might have looked like we were barely surviving, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. We knew approximately how many hellhounds the Federation ships could carry along with the numbers of those planted in the water. Knet thought he had betrayed our plans and that we were oblivious. His treason gave us the edge we needed. This current battle was ours.

Explosions lit up the distant sky, a sign that one or more of our planes had found their target. The jets wouldn’t be able to completely destroy the Federation’s heavily armed ships, but their purpose was to keep them occupied long enough for us to execute our plan.

After cutting down three more hellhounds, I scanned the beach, searching for Marinah. She was surrounded by several hounds, her sword moving in lethal arcs. I expected her Nova to take over, but it didn’t. Instead, with amazing skill, she rotated her hips, putting power behind every strike.

One, two, three, they dropped around her like puppets with their strings cut. She moved with an otherworldly grace, a dance of death and power, her body following an unheard rhythm. She anticipated each attack before it came, striking with flawless accuracy.

A larger-than-average hellhound lunged at her from the side. Her sword moved with blinding speed, driving in at an angle that cleaved the beast cleanly in half. Marinah never hesitated or faltered. She hadn’t been trained since infancy like I was, but you’d never know it. She moved like she had a lifetime of preparation.

It took me twice as long to reach the level of skill she’d achieved. She was unstoppable because of the single-minded training she put in daily. She never slacked off. Marinah had something to prove to herself and only herself. The rest of us knew what she was capable of. Her Warriors would follow her into the depths of hell, or more precisely, straight into a horde of hellhounds. Put a weapon in her hands, and she would obliterate her enemy. It was simply who she was, and I could watch her fight for hours.

She was everything the Shadow Warriors were meant to be.

Marinah finally signaled for us to fall back. We sprinted for the cliffs, where the archers held their positions. As we retreated, arrows rained down, peppering the remaining hellhounds, small explosive charges thinning their numbers further. We jumped onto our bikes and roared off toward the next rallying point.

About a mile into the winding, twisting roads, a pack of waterlogged hellhounds blocked our path.

With a bloodcurdling shout, Marinah revved her bike and picked up speed. At the last possible second, she executed a flawless slide, laying her bike down and taking out the front row of hellhounds like bowling pins.

We wore stretchy pants to accommodate shifting, and while they offered some protection from road rash, they weren’t perfect. The material shredded, leaving one of her thighs bloody and exposed. She didn’t care.

As she came off the bike with her sword drawn, I almost wanted to step back and admire her sheer ferocity, the grace, the unrelenting power she radiated. Marinah was breathtaking in battle. But standing there watching would make me look foolish, especially with hellhounds attacking.

I jumped into the fray, taking on the beasts two at a time. Our Warriors joined in, their roars and strikes adding to the battle. When the horde was destroyed, we regrouped and headed to the next area.

After two more changes in location, Marinah’s radio crackled.

“Inbound,” snapped a voice.

That was the signal. Federation soldiers were closing in on the citadel.

“Do you think we’ve taken out enough hellhounds to make this work?” Marinah shouted as we ran for the bikes.

“Alpha One, do you copy?”

“Copy,” she answered into the microphone without missing a step.

“Sub spotted near the inlet. Boats are storming Warrior Bay.”

“Heading in,” Marinah responded.

She threw a wicked grin my way. “It’s time to fly, baby. Eat my dust,” she called before taking off like a rocket.

I couldn’t help but laugh and follow.

Her version of flying meant pushing her modified bike past a hundred miles per hour, the engine roaring beneath her. She laughed, the sound carried by the wind, as we tore through the night. A ride that should’ve taken forty-five minutes took us sixteen. Marinah didn’t just thrive in battle, she commanded it.