Page 35
Story: Seeing Red (The Codex #1)
It’s been a long time since I’ve been shot, and it fucking hurts. There’s a saying that you don’t hear the bullet that gets you, but a 51mm is painfully loud and even worse to have tickling your ribs. I don’t care if it isn’t lodged in my spine. Getting shot hurts.
The pain in my side pulses like a heartbeat, and the skin is already starting to bruise like a stripe in between my ribcage. It would be a cool tattoo if it didn’t make breathing a chore. The frigid air inside the cabin only makes it worse. No one bothered to relight the stove after it burnt the sniper to a crisp. I’ve been well accustomed to the stench of a burning body—Acacia made sure of that. It’s thick and I can fucking taste it. I’d gag on it if I hadn’t had to walk through that carnage in Libya, but it’s easy to get used to that smell when it surrounds you for weeks. It’s acrid—like leather being tanned in a sulfuric flame, and a disgustingly sweet scent layered overtop as if it would cover the smell of rot and ash.
I glance at Helena as she sleeps soundly on the couch. Her arms are tucked into her chest that rises and falls steadily with each of her breaths. Her face is relaxed into a soft smile and every now and again, her head will turn and her blonde hair will fall in front of her eyes.
It’s cathartic, almost. Despite everything we’ve given her, every hell she’s walked through, she doesn’t allow it to follow her into her dreams.
I pull a blanket off the ground, patting the dust off before I drape it over her body. She shouldn’t be sleeping without a blanket, especially in this cold. I thought she’d learn that back at her cell in the COP. It was cruel of them to chain her like a dog in this weather. She’s a fucking person, she deserves to be treated like one.
The thought makes my blood boil, that they treated her like utter shit for god knows how long. Even if Fury was there to protect her, it’s not enough. She shouldn’t have been in Acacia at all. She shouldn’t have been here, but she never fucking listens.
Stubborn bitch, just like her dad.
I need to move. Sitting here, doing nothing, feels like a slow death. We can’t wait. Acacia never did and I’m not going to give Alastor the satisfaction of running back to his lackeys to throw themselves in front of a bullet to keep him safe.
I reach for my baron, fisting to the leather handle tightly. I want to kill him. I want to pin him to the ground with every single one of my knives and watch that motherfucker beg for mercy as I cut into him. He doesn’t fucking deserve to breathe. He doesn’t deserve to be walking here right now. I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll—
Helena stirs again, her face pushed down as something drags her from her peace. My hand relaxes and the weight in my chest drops.
“Shhh,” I crouch down, placing her head in my palms until she settles again. She’s soft, even though she doesn’t act like it. Sleep shows everyone who they are. It’s like alcohol—all of your secrets come out whether you want to or not. It’s honest, and Helena’s honesty is fear. She’s terrified, braving through things she shouldn’t have to, but she’s been broken for so long she forgot who she was, and I’ll kill them for forcing her into a shell.
She’s not broken anymore. She pretends to want independence, but she doesn’t. She likes having someone hold her. She needs it. She needs someone to tell her what to do, to act in a way that lets her experience what real freedom tastes like.
When she smiles into my hand, a warm feeling follows with it, traveling through me like a shot of adrenaline, except it feels different. Calming.
I pull away suddenly, holding my hand like she’d bitten me. The warm feeling dissipates in an instant, leaving me with a scowl and a sting that travels down to the burning pain in my side. What the fuck was that? It was unwanted, and sudden, infecting me and settling in my chest. It felt almost nice.
Gross.
I couldn’t place what that feeling was. Maybe some type of pity, or post-nut bliss that translated into something that left a sickeningly sweet taste in my mouth. I do pity her, I suppose. She was stupid enough to land herself here, and even stupider to try and walk out in a fucking snowstorm without shoes or proper clothes, but I’ll be damned if I let myself go soft just because she’s a good fuck.
Castor comes in a second later, stomping through the rough hardwood as the door slams shut. Astonishing how he can make such a bombastic entrance. I’m surprised the cabin didn’t physically shake with the way he walks.
“Easy. Sleeping beauty hasn’t woken up,” I say quietly.
His eyes flick over to Helena, regarding her with absolutely nothing. “We’re clear, but we may not be for long.” He points toward the dead sniper’s remains. “If he doesn’t report, I’m sure Alastor might send more contractors.”
“Then let’s get the fuck out of here,” I stand, biting down the pain that follows with it. I hate this place. I hate the smell, the silence. And I sure as hell don’t want to stick around with a rotting corpse. I glance at Helena when she stirs again. “What about her?”
Castor shrugs. “I don’t care. She’s Fury’s problem now.”
“Did you get updated coordinates?”
He shakes his head. “They’re in the wind.”
I groan. “That’s a problem.”
“What’s a problem?” Helena’s voice cuts through the room. We both turn to look at her, awake and alert sitting up on the couch, her clothes adjusted to cover her body.
Castor nods. “Welcome back, doll.”
She narrows her eyes at the name, and I turn my head to hide my laugh.
“What’s wrong?” I smile. “Did we finally fuck the attitude out of you?”
She pushes herself off the couch, staggering for a moment before she steadies herself. “The only thing you fucked is your chances of fronting this mission. We need to get moving. Gather some supplies and let’s go.”
I can’t help my laugh this time. The fucking balls on this woman. “Did Castor fuck out all your common sense?”
She meets my smile with a sarcastic one. “Hardly. I think your nickname for me is misplaced. I was named Captain for a reason.”
I take a step towards her. “To inflate your head so you don’t see the gun pointed at your head from behind. You couldn’t even bruise Acacia without our help.”
“Seems you can’t either.” She nods at my swollen torso and my lips curl. Does she think I’m fucking weak?
“I don’t think you understand—”
“Oh I understand perfectly,” she cuts in. “I heard you all outside my cell days ago talking about making a run for it, and I’m telling you now, that’s not going to happen. Just because you can fuck me into submission doesn’t mean you’ll get that out of me after.” She crosses her arms, standing toe-to-toe with me, like I couldn’t just move her out of the way myself.
I tip my chin down, my eyes narrowing. “Eager to stay, are we?”
She doesn’t even flinch. “Consider it payment for all the shit you put me through. You know how to track Alastor and I’ll be very grateful for the distraction you provide while I slit his throat.” She steps back, her head held high and she passes me with a sly smile. “Now get your shit, grab some food, and let’s go.”
She moves past me, her hand trailing along my neck, and I can feel her smile growing when it makes my blood boil. The fucking audacity.
I turn as she moves into the kitchen, her legs snapping together every few steps. My brows furrow at the sudden movement, but I push it aside.
I follow her, ignoring Castor’s hard stare. She’s rifling through the cabinets, stopping dead in front of the freezer before turning to the refrigerator.
I scoff and push the door shut, narrowly missing her head. “I think you forgot who you’re speaking to, doll.”
She steps back into the doorway and she crosses her arms.
“I know exactly who I’m speaking to,” she barks out a laugh. “I’m talking to an entitled psychopath who thinks he can bully and force people into getting what he wants.” She nods behind me. “And his traumatized friend who cries about his life if he isn’t trying to fuck the pain away.”
My blood pulses and my hand curls into a fist. “You better watch your mouth—”
“I also know that you have no intention of killing me, or you would’ve done it already,” she snaps. “You both may be soldiers but so am I. I’m well accustomed to people like you trying to use intimidation to get your way. Neither of you know the first thing about scaling the mountains, whereas I was climbing Devil’s Paw before I started kindergarten.” She takes a step forward, her chin held high and an aggravating smirk on her face. “Like it or not, you need me and I’m going to find Alastor and turn his head into a fucking soccer ball. You’re welcome to come along…if you behave.”
“You little—”
“Enough!” Castor steps between us, pulling her back. “I advise you not to piss us off if you want to stick around. We’re leaving in an hour.” He points behind us both. “Now go.”
She throws a glare at me before turning on her heel. She swipes one of my stilettos from the table and walks out of the cabin, leaving the door swinging open behind her.
I roll my eyes. “I doubt I’ll ever get that back.”
“What are you doing, Arik?” Castor snaps. “Why are you baiting her?”
“I don’t want her anywhere near us,” I hiss. “It was fun to fuck her, but now she’s becoming a distraction. We need to end this and move on.”
“Not until we can get on the other side of the mountains,” he argues. “Helena is right, and you know that. Your knowledge won’t get us through these mountains without a guide. Nothing has changed.”
“Everything’s changed!” I shout. Castor gives me a pointed look and I turn my head away, pushing my hair back with my fingers. How can’t he see that this is exactly what she wants? The moment she came into our lives, she’s gotten between us and fucked up every process we have. We’ve barely escaped with our lives because of her, and I’m tired of taking bullets for her. “This isn’t the same as before,” I grumble. “I can’t look after both of you.”
Castor sighs. “You don’t need to, Arik. I can take care of myself.”
“It’s not about you, Silas. It’s about this bitch fucking with our heads. I’m not going to coddle her when Acacia comes running.”
“Then drop her when we cross the mountains.”
My lip curls, and my hands start to shake as I refrain from grabbing my knife. “This isn’t about the mountains. I don’t want her near us, ever!”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t look after both of you and I can’t focus on Acacia when all I’m thinking about is her!”
Castor steps back, his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”
Shit.
I lean against the doorframe, picking at my nails with my knife. “She’s reckless.” I cover. “Her cocky attitude will get us both killed. Fury wouldn’t want that.”
“Fuck what Fury thinks, Helena’s changed.” Castor gives me another look, like he’s daring me to tell him that he’s wrong.
Sometimes I fucking hate his arrogance. He thinks I have a big head. Just because he has the processing speed of a fucking computer doesn’t make him right and bringing her with us will only get us hurt. I won’t be labeled responsible for her death, and I won’t sacrifice my best friend to save her ass when she inevitably walks into the line of fire.
Unfortunately, Castor is about as stubborn as her, and when he gets that dark look in his eyes and crosses his arms impatiently, I know better than to try and fight him.
I bite back the rest of my thoughts, forcing my knife back into its holster. I can’t believe Castor’s actually considering letting her help after what happened to John.
“Fine,” I relent. “We’ll let Fury deal with her.” I step closer, meeting his hard gaze with one of my own. “But if it comes down to her or us, I’m not choosing her. Protecting her was Fury’s job, not ours.”
He holds my stare for a minute, neither of us willing to back down. I won’t go down for her. She’s a parasite. She’s fucking with his head, and she’s fucking with mine. I won’t allow myself to get distracted again. Acacia is all that matters.
“Agreed,” Castor says with a nod.
I finally back down, huffing in exasperation. “I don’t understand your attachment to her.”
“It’s not attachment,” he states. “I’m thinking ahead, like always.”
His eyes follow the door as a gust of wind throws it against the wall.
“You better find her before she gets herself into trouble.”
I roll my eyes. Knowing her, she already has.
Helena left a very noticeable trail in the snow, leading straight from the cabin and deep into the forest. She’s walking around in the snow barefoot without a jacket or a gun. Smart.
God, she’s lucky she has me to stalk her.
Her footprints are heavy, but fresh, so I know she’s close. She’s not very good at staying light on her feet. Her right leg is dragging behind her left, probably in a half-assed attempt to cover her tracks. It’s definitely not enough to keep herself, but knowing how thick-headed some of these contractors are, if there are any lurking by, they certainly won’t be able to find her quickly.
A gust of wind has me bracing my jacket over my face to shield myself from it. As much as I hate the cold, I can’t deny that the snow makes an astonishing picture of the mountainside.
I find her easily, frozen dead center in the clearing between the trees. I spot deer tracks leading out into the tree line where a small mass rests in the snow. A deer. And she’s standing out in the open.
Amateur.
“You’re not going to kill a deer standing out in the open,” I call out.
“Shh!” She stands slowly, eyes locked on the animal. “Don’t move. At your 10 o’clock.”
I turn and spot it—a wolf cub tearing into the dead deer and my stiletto jammed into the deer’s head. And just beyond it, a pair of large yellow eyes locked on me from the trees.
Fuck. Me.
Helena takes a step back and the mother takes a step forward, head low and body skating along the snow. An unsettling feeling creeps up on me, chilling my skin and it’s not from the cold.
“We need to get out of here,” I say quietly, turning back to the way we came.
“Don’t turn your back,” she whispers harshly. “Do you have a gun?”
“No.”
“What about your knife?”
I frown, my hand instinctively feeling for the handle of the blade. “I’m not throwing this at a fucking wolf. I like this knife. It’s not supposed to be thrown.”
The feeling on my neck gets worse, stinging at me like a stream of adrenaline mixing with paranoia but there’s nothing behind me. I don’t like being out in this cold on a good day, even less so being watched by a fucking wolf.
I take another step back when the wolf stalks forward, turning to run.
“No, don’t run!” She says a little too loudly. Her body tenses, but she doesn’t take her eyes off the wolf. “If you run, it’ll charge.”
“Then I’ll kill it,” I say, patting the leather handle. “I can use my knife for that. It’s just a wolf.”
She blows out a breath. “Use your head, Baron. It’s never just one.”
Like a cue, I hear a twig snap from behind me.
“Shit.”
Another wolf is there in the snow, seemingly to appear out of thin air and blocking our only way out.
I jump back when it takes a step towards me, its head hung low like the first wolf. Then there’s another in the treeline to my left…and another…and another.
They’re closing us in, circling us . They’ve probably been following us since we left the cabin. And we have no fucking weapons.
I can use my knife to take down one or two, but my baron is meant for cutting, not stabbing. The curve wouldn’t support a throw more than a few feet, and it wouldn’t get rid of all five of them.
When I jerk again at the sight of another wolf, Helena’s voice cuts through the silence.
“Listen to me very carefully.” She takes in a sharp breath, planting her feet into the snow. “Put your back to the tree. Do not run, do you understand me? Keep your eyes on them, but don’t run.”
I don’t argue. I step back behind Helena until my back finds a tree. Three of the wolves stalk in front of me, while the fourth locks eyes with Helena.
I keep myself still and quiet but my heart is pounding. I’m a sitting duck without a gun. Even I had my rifle when Castor and I faced the bear, but a pack of wolves is very fucking different. I’ve never even seen a wolf before now, let alone a pack of them that decided to make me a meal.
Even as I force myself to stay still, the three wolves creep in on me, and now I’ve cornered myself.
I find the handle of my blade, clutching it tightly.
If I’m going down, I’m going to take at least one of them with me.
“No, don’t!” Helena extends her hand back to me. She hasn’t looked back, but she still knows, like she can anticipate what i’m about to me before I even fucking do it.
“If you kill one, the others will attack,” she says.
“Then tell me what to do, Helena. I don’t have a gun,” I hiss.
She pauses, her fingers twirling around each other in the air as she thinks. “Is there a way out?”
“No,” I say, cringing when it echoes off the trees. The wolves turn their heads inward, their ears moving back and forth from the sound.
Helena slowly grabs a rock and hurls it at the wolf. “Get back!”
The two wolves in front of her jump back. The cub scatters from the dead deer, hiding behind its mother. The mother boldens herself again, taking another step forward, only flinching once when Helena throws another rock, me flinching with it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I shout.
She throws another rock, screaming and waving her arms in a grotesquely exaggerated movement.
“Make yourself a threat!” She screams. “Be bold! Make it scared!”
She jabs her foot forward, coming inches away from the wolf as she screams and throws rocks at it. The wolf snarls at her but gets low, its head tucked to the ground before it flees with its cub, and the other wolves retreat rapidly into the forest.
Un-fucking-believable.
Is she seriously that bold?
She steps forward, yanking the knife from the deer’s head. Blood splatters on her face and she stops, staring at the way it coats the white in a shade of crimson, dripping down from her fingertips.
Then she tosses her head back and laughs.
Nope. Just insane.
I relax my hand on my blade, flexing my tightly clenched fingers with an exasperated laugh. “You’ve got some brass balls on you, you know that?”
She slices the knife into the deer, cutting out chunks that were not already eaten by the cub. Her head turns, a smirk on her face.
“Is that a compliment?”
I roll my eyes. “An observation. It was still stupid.”
She stuffs the meat in her pockets, not caring of the blood that runs down her legs and pools at her feet.
“You’re welcome,” she scoffs. “I thought you were a hunter.”
“Of shit like deer and coyotes, not fucking wolves!”
“Then it’s a good thing I was here,” she retorts. She straightens, her leg flexing and knocking against the other but her expression never changes. “Wandering in the woods without a gun?” She nods at me. “Stupid fucking idea.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re one to talk. You should be thanking me for changing my mind about dragging your ass to the embassy. I would’ve had no issue leaving you tied up in that rubble for some politician to find.”
“You mean Castor changing your mind,” she shoots back. “You have a bad habit of taking credit for other people’s work.”
My lip curls and I give her a bared smile. “I’d like to call it sharing.”
“Because you have to borrow brain cells from Castor in order to form a coherent thought?” She takes a step towards me, her smile mirroring mine even as I feel anger swell in my chest. “You want to talk about control, while Castor has you wrapped around his finger. You’d crawl on your knees if he asked.”
My smile fades, morphing into a snarl. “I’d sooner sell my soul than get on my knees for anyone.”
“Makes sense that you’d kill two birds with one stone.” She laughs. “You don’t have a soul.”
My jaw tenses, and I find my hand drifting over my blade, if not to have something to crush that isn’t her fucking jaw.
“I prefer it that way,” I spit. “You’re lucky I didn’t sell yours too. There’s a reason people call me Death.”
I’m on the verge of snapping. This is exactly why I didn’t fucking want her around. She’s vile, insane, and a fucking hindrance to my focus. If I wasn’t so focused on babysitting her, I would’ve noticed the wolves following me and I wouldn’t be here watching this bitch talk to me like she knows the first thing about me.
“I disagree.” She takes a step closer, circling me like the wolves had. “I think you play into it. You’re too fucked up to be seen as a god, so you’d rather be an omen because at least when people are scared of you, they actually look.”
I snap. My hand is around her throat in an instant and slamming her against a tree.
“You don’t know the first thing about me, doll. You’ve been living in your stupid happy fantasy world until we saved you from that. Without us, you’d be fucking dead. You want to talk about revenge? You have no idea of the word.”
Fuck Fury. This is why Helena was their problem. I don’t give a fuck if she’s John’s kid. A star isn’t the worst thing I can carve into her for disrespecting me.
I throw her forward, watching as she bends, coughing and gasping for air. She throws a glare at me, but she says nothing. Probably the smartest thing she’s done all day.
She retreats back the way she came, her legs brushing and knocking together as she forces her way back through the snow into the cabin.
I watch as she disappears, glancing into the forest for any watchful eyes before moving in, keeping her just out of my sights, but it doesn’t stop that sickly warm feeling growing in my chest, along with a pit of unease.
This isn’t good.
Table of Contents
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- Page 35 (Reading here)
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