New World Rising (11 page)

I HAD BECOME
less of a peculiarity around The Subversive now. I walked the halls alone, unguarded, and no one stopped me. Oddly enough, some people even nodded or smiled as I passed. I was not entirely sure when it happened, but gradually people stared at me less, their wary eyes growing bored.

Well, most of them.

Arstid still watched me like a hawk. Her penetrating eyes constantly flickered from mine to Mouse, reminding me that my actions no longer affected only myself. As if to say, “Screw up and she will pay the price.”

Arstid had me on a short leash and she knew it.

Triven and I had fallen into a rhythm. We worked side by side every day, trained most nights together and met with the guard when called for. I had even become accustomed to sharing a room with him and had begun to find his ever-wakeful presence reassuring. When I awoke like a frightened child every morning, the light from his reading lamp soothed me. His warm eyes would meet mine and he would hand me something to read, something to distract my mind from the nightmares.

We never talked about it again after that first night.

Mouse was making friends and while she still slept beneath my bed, her whimpering had dissipated. While I was still unsure of what
I
was doing here, I could see a future for her.

Tonight, Triven’s light snores let me know he was actually sleeping for a change. It was a steady reminder of what I should be doing as well, but my mind refused to turn off.

We were leaving tomorrow night for the reconnaissance mission of the Ravagers’ weapons warehouse and my mind refused to forget that. I knew that I needed the rest, that I must be on point, but the voices in my head wouldn’t stop nagging. This would be the first time I had been outside the bunker since my capture. And it could be the only opportunity I got, the only chance I would have to run.

But did I want to run?

My head throbbed. Less than a month ago I wanted nothing more than to be free of these people and now… What? I wanted to stay?

No.

But I didn’t really want to leave either. When did this get so complicated?

Careful not to wake Mouse or Triven, I slipped into the hall. I needed time away from them. Away from their familiar breathing and comforting sounds.

My feet carried me to the training room before I realized that’s where I wanted to go. The halls were empty. I passed not a soul along the way.

When I entered the room it was dimly lit. Only half of the lights were on to conserve energy. A pool of light focused on the sparring mat. It should have frightened me— it would have frightened a normal person— but to me the darkness was inviting. A place to hide.

Removing my tattered long-sleeved shirt, I entered the ring and began to stretch. It was freeing that there were no cameras here, no way to keep tabs on me. I wasn’t sure the limited power running in the barracks could even support such a thing. I reveled in the fact that I was alone. No eyes to watch me, no guards to hide my talents from. My body was tight from work and lack of proper use. A groan rattled in my throat as I stretched my tired legs.

Closing my eyes, I let my body fall into its natural rhythm. Letting the energy flow with my movements. I knew the movements were perfect. The Master who taught me saw to that. A wrong move earned you a cane to the back. When pain was a motivator, you learned fast. It also helped that my body naturally took to his training, as if my muscles knew the movements before my brain did. There were very few things I found myself not good at. Even now as I felt rusty, my body knew what to do.

Without opening my eyes, I targeted the punching bag I knew was hanging to the left of the mat. My movements changed from slow and controlled to powerful and precise. I could hear the bag protest as my skin connected with it. The connectivity was painful, but I took it in stride. Three months ago I would have felt nothing, but I had gone soft in my time here.

Suddenly, my senses flared and I knew I was no longer the only person in the room. He made no sound, but I knew he was here. I could feel the tension rising in my veins, a need to find release. As my senses opened up, it was like a floodgate. I could feel all of it now, every emotion I had stifled, every desire I had curbed. It was all there.

The suppressed rage I had for the man standing in the shadows, anger for letting myself get caught by The Subversive, repulsion for allowing myself to feel something other than hate for another human being, and fear… Somewhere buried in all of that rage and anger was fear. And I wanted nothing more than to extinguish it.

“I know you’re there.”

A slow applause echoed from the corner of the room.

“Impressive.” Maddox’s voice was cold as he stepped from the shadows. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a fighter. You’re so… small. Like I could
snap
you.” He circled me like a prowling lion.

“Care to test that theory?” I glared at him. It was a reckless thing to say. I knew that. But my desire to lash out was stronger than my sense of reason at the moment.

His eyes glinted with pleasure in the dark light, but to my disappointment he didn’t move.

“You’re not scared of a little girl are you?”

That did it.

Stripping off his hoodie, he stepped into the ring and I immediately regretted my carelessness.

Here, we were on even ground. I was not trapped, locked in a shower room where no one could hear me scream. And I wasn’t a prisoner any longer that he could torture without punishment. But even with all those things on my side, I was physically no match for him. His huge frame dominated mine. My only chance was to be faster.

Maddox’s knuckles cracked as he flexed his meat-like hands. Taking my stance I prepared for his advance. The smug smile spreading across his lips sent a fire blazing though my mind and I lashed out first.

To my disappointment he was faster than he looked, but not fast enough. I landed a blow, catching him in the mouth. I grinned as I bounced backwards on the balls of my feet. A fine line of blood trickled down his chin.

Point, Phoenix.

Calmly, he wiped the blood from his lips and grinned at me. His advance came quickly. Each blow was calculated, packing shear force. I didn’t have time to fight back. Instead, each movement was focused solely on blocking him. Each time his fists, knees or feet connected with my body, sharp pain flared with the impact, but I kept him at bay. Then there was an opening. A powerful thrust left his flank exposed and I attacked, throwing my elbow into his side. He staggered. I got three more blows in before he could recover. As my leg sprang out to deal a final blow his hands caught my calf. Apparently any sense of honorable fighting was now being thrown out. My body was suddenly airborne. I collided with something hard. My body bent, conforming to the shape of the punching bag before crashing to the floor.

I grimaced in pain as my lungs seized. Through the ringing in my ears I could hear him laughing. Tears burned in my eyes but I pushed them back.

“Ha!” I coughed, rolling to my feet. “The only way you can beat a poor little girl like me is to
cheat
.”

“Cheat? Since when are there ever rules in Tartarus?”

“Tribesman through and through aren’t you? Or maybe you are nothing but a born traitor.” My head spun as I stood up. “Or better yet, maybe you’re just an
inadequate
spy.”

My gut clenched. I had gone too far. I could see something in him snap, the black of his eyes suddenly all consuming.

Moving with ferocity, Maddox ripped off his shirt exposing his bare chest. Tattoos covered every inch of his skin. Images of women burning in flames, skulls drowning in blackness and reapers hoisting dead bodies stared back at me. I recoiled from the pictures imprinted over his muscular chest, but he pressed himself closer. Maddox began to flick the underside of his tongue to me like a lizard—like it was supposed to mean something to me.

“Talented. Can you wipe your own ass too?” I snarled as my skin crawled.

He grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me uncomfortably closer. “Do you see a mark?”

He flicked his tongue at me again. Repulsed, I pushed away shaking my head. “No. What’s your point?”

“My point little girl, is that as high and mighty as you think you are, you know
nothing
. A
real
Taciturn spy bares only one mark on his body, a black star under his tongue. Which I plainly do not carry.”

The woman consumed by the flames writhed as his chest heaved beneath my nose.

“Good for you, so you’re not a spy, that still proves nothing. I’m not even sure you actually left on your own. Maybe they kicked you out or maybe the relentless rejections from the women in your own Tribe weren’t enough. You had to hear it from all of the others too.”

His massive hands flashed out, the long fingers closing easily around my neck. He lifted until I could barely touch the ground, my toes just scraping the black mat.

“I watched the Tribe leader slaughter my
only
brother to set an example for those who disagreed with him. They slit his throat and skinned him while he was still alive. The Taciturn’s leader now wears a vest of my brother’s pelt as a reminder to those who think of standing against him.” He squeezed tighter causing my vision to swim with blackness.

A hand shot out between us.

Triven was grabbing Maddox’s forearm with surprising force, but his voice remained calm.

“Put the girl down Maddox.”

He held me for a moment longer before finally letting go. Reflexively I coughed as the air burned back into my lungs. Triven’s hand left a fading white imprint on Maddox’s arm. His grasp must have been painful, but Maddox showed no sign of feeling it.

Carefully, I stepped around Triven, squaring my shoulders as I clutched my bruised neck.

I knew I should have felt pity for Maddox, apologized for what I had said. For the first time since we met I actually deserved his outrage. But despite that, I could only manage to return his icy glare.

“That doesn’t change anything, I won’t pity you.” I hissed.

“Good thing I don’t believe in pity.” His dark eyes glittered as he loomed closer. I could smell his rank breath. A warmth filled me as Triven’s chest pressed against my back, his hand on my shoulder ready to pull me away. With an unexpected and erratic laugh Maddox turned away and strode from the room.

That man definitely had a few screws loose.

I SUCKED IN
air as Triven pressed the cold compress to my neck. We were still in the training room.

“Sorry.” He murmured. His thumb traced gingerly over the bruises. “These are going to look worse tomorrow.”

“I know. Thank you… for coming after me tonight. You didn’t have to step in like that. I could have handled him.” I didn’t quite meet his eyes. It was apparent to both of us I sucked at saying thank you.

“I know you could have.” He was stroking my ego. We both knew I couldn’t have taken Maddox. A few more seconds and I would have been unconscious. “I also know that you despise him and that tends to affect your judgment.”

“It's not just that I despise him, it's that I don't trust him.”