Vladimir flinched at the sudden vibration in his pants.
Damned phone. I'll never get used to these portable models. He shifted awkwardly under Rick's unconscious bulk to pull out his phone.
"Can't you drive any faster? We don't have Miss Daisy back here!" he snapped at Lucius. The silent warrior glared at him in the rearview mirror, but the Hummer lurched forward with a roar.
"About damn time," he muttered as he checked his messages. Terror and rage fought to freeze and boil his blood. He threw the phone across the car, cursing in every guttural language he knew, but it didn't make him feel better.
The sudden honk of the car horn jerked his eyes forward. Lucius's quirked eyebrow asked the question he didn't want to answer but knew he had to.
"The Council has deemed Erza unfit to rule. We must report directly to the Council from now on," Vladimir snarled; fear twisting his gut. "They have ordered her execution."
A sharp, piercing cry echoed in the close confines of the vehicle. Vladimir covered his ears with his hands as the bird of prey vented his rage.
When Lucius finally calmed down, he said, "Mine honour is my life. Both grow in one. Take honour from me, and my life is done."
Vladimir grinned as those new to their group gaped at his friend.
"I couldn't have said it better myself. I'll let Faolan know we're meeting up with Erza. The Warriors will follow wherever our Lioness leads," Vladimir muttered, already punching the keys on his phone.
"How do you know where to find her?" Zeke asked from the front seat.
"We always set up more than one safe house when we move. Just in case one gets destroyed, or we're being chased," Vladimir said.
"Does the destruction of your home happen often? Do you have enemies we should know about?" Prue asked while placing a crystal on Roderick's brow.
"We're Warriors with no country of our own. After Erza's grandfather grew up, he knew he would need funds with which to search for more of his people. He decided the Warriors would become soldiers of fortune until the day we find a place to call home. Mercenaries make their share of enemies," Vladimir informed them. He rolled his eyes at a smartass text from Faolan and texted the impertinent Colt orders to complete his mission before joining the group.
"So we're working with hired killers?" Prue asked, scooting closer to her unconscious sister.
"What is a Marine or Navy SEAL? They're paid by the government to kill people in defense of their country, but you wouldn't cringe if you shared a car with them," Vladimir said, affronted by her fear of them.
"How long have you known these men, Prue?" Zeke inquired.
"A few hours. Duh. What's your point?" Prue asked, replacing the stone on Rick's brow with a stone of pearlescent rose.
"How many people have they hurt since you've known them?" he asked, ignoring her question. Vladimir also wondered about the point to the man's inquisition.
"None, as you very well know," she replied rolling her eyes.
"How long have you known our father, and how many people has he hurt?" Zeke asked never turning from the windshield.
Prue's eyes darkened to honey. Golden flecks flashing with whatever emotion fueled her.
"Point taken," she snapped.
Vladimir still didn't understand and chalked it up to some kind of sibling language he would never be able to crack. Shrugging it off, he worked at Emmy's hand. It clutched Rick's bicep so hard that her knuckles whitened even in sleep.
"Don't!" Prue snapped shoving his hand away. He lifted a brow, unable to speak. The place she touched him burned, and his blood surged. He thanked whichever god would listen for the hulking body blocking her view of his lap.
"Their vibrations are...merging? Synchronizing?" She rubbed the back of her neck. "Look, they're reacting to each other. I don't know what will happen if we separate them before they're done. They could remain veggies forever, die, or bounce back to normal. There's no way of knowing," Prue said putting her hands up in a shrug.
"What's going to happen if we leave them like this?" Vladimir asked, not liking any of his options so far.
She simply shook her head.
Well that's reassuring, he thought. Lucius cleared his throat, pulling Vladimir's attention to their surroundings.
Empty windowpanes absorbed the sunlight as broken glass glinted on the pavement. The old warehouse sported scorch marks and bullet holes...some of which were fresh.
"Shit. No choice now, Ms. Ramsey. We need Roderick for whatever we're about to face," Vladimir said, ignoring her protests and slapping hands as he ripped Emmy's hand away from Rick.
Nothing happened.
"Wake up, you flea! You swore to protect Erza until death. Now do it! Wake up! You're no good to her this way!" Vladimir awkwardly slapped his old friend's face. When no reaction occurred, he slapped him again. And again...and again. Fear clawed at his throat.
"Are you done, yet, or do you enjoy beating the helpless?" Prue snarled, catching his wrist.
"He needs to wake up. We need him to wake up. We can't protect her alone," Vladimir knew he was babbling, but he couldn't seem to stop.
"If you'll chill for a minute, I'll see what I can do," she said, pulling various colored stones from her bag and arranging them in random patterns along Rick's body.
"Why aren't you doing the same for your sister?" he asked. Curiosity dampening his panic.
"It's not safe to wake her up, yet," Prue replied, adjusting the pattern on Rick's chest.
"What do you..." Vladimir's question floated into the ether as Roderick jerked upright, scattering stones and slamming his head into the ceiling of the car.
Vladimir sighed as relief washed through him, making his limbs weak.
"Why did you wake me? Bloody hell! That was one dream I would stay asleep for eternity for," Roderick snarled, rubbing his head where it'd impacted the ceiling.
A snarl? From Roderick? Not good. I've got to make him regain control before the Madness takes over, Vladimir thought. He quickly apprised the older man of their situation, and the Council's decision regarding their Regina. Vladimir had heard of eyes turning red in rage. Bards favored the phrase, and writers coveted such symbolism. But, he'd never witnessed such a phenomenon until the moment full comprehension reached Rick's brain.
"Erza is my Regina; by birth and by choice. I will serve no other." The short speech was barely a rumble in Rick's chest.
Vladimir shared a knowing grin with Lucius in the rearview mirror. "Our sentiments exactly. Now, let's go tell our Regina how we feel," Vladimir said while popping open the door.
Light flashed in the windows, and rapid gunfire met their ears. Screams of agony were barely heard over a roar of jubilant rage.
"Better make sure she leaves one alive. In her current mood, our Regina is liable to slaughter everyone in sight--friend or foe," Roderick commented, pulling a sub-machine gun from behind the seat, a barely-there note of indulgent pride in his voice.
"As Erza would say, 'you can't spell slaughter without laughter,'" Vladimir commented, sheathing knives in various places on his body.
"I'll never understand her mindset during battle," Roderick said, shaking his head. The Wolf's chattiness worried Vladimir. Roderick usually barked orders; he didn't actually talk with them.
"It's a coping mechanism. It makes the killing easier on her," Vladimir replied, twisting his body to stretch his muscles in the confined space. He studied Roderick closely.
Lucius just snorted and shook his head as he filled his many pockets full of clips and slid knives into hidden sheaths in his clothing's seams.
"What do you want us to do?" Zeke asked, stepping out of the Hummer.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
"Stay in the truck. It's bulletproof. If you need them, there are more weapons stashed in the glove box, under every seat, and in the hatch. Stay here; protect your sisters and our getaway car. If we don't kill them all on the way in, or the worst should happen, we'll be leaving in a hurry," Roderick instructed. His voice finally falling back into his emotionless monotone.
Vladimir felt relief wash over him. This was the Roderick he'd known for so many centuries.
"What is the worst that can happen?" Prue asked, her frightened eyes wide.
"Reinforcements."
*****
Zeke's hands gripped the steering wheel painfully; the plastic creaking in his hold. The Warriors had only been gone for five minutes, but waiting and watching the sporadic muzzle flashes in the warehouse windows drove him nuts. He couldn't hear the gunfire inside the vehicle, so he couldn't even close his eyes to focus on counting the bullets fired.
Is Erza okay? What if she's injured? Wonder if Vladimir keeps a med kit in this thing...
"Zeke, help me get Emmy into the back. If the Qikan do come out in a rush, we don't need to get in their way. Emmy and I can hunker down in the hatch. If you drive, the Warriors can jump in quickly and still keep us safe," Prue said, shoving the back of his seat with her knee, and jerking him out of his mental spiral.
"What, so now you trust them to keep us safe? What happened to your whole 'hired killers' theory?" he asked, refraining from steadying her as she clambered over the back seat.
Prue flushed an interesting shade of beet as she turned to face him. "I'm ashamed of my reaction. I really am. They helped us rescue Emmy without question or judgment. They're willing to accept our oddities without a single flinch! I should have extended the same courtesy to them. After all, if anyone understands how they feel, being homeless, with no ties to country or kin, it's us," Prue said extending her arms over the seat-back.
Zeke nodded, carefully lifting his tiny sister and passing her to Prue. As children, their father had dragged them from one archeological site to another in every country he could. Zeke didn't know what he was searching for, but John Miller hadn't yet found it.
Yet? An image of Erza's amulet flashed in his mind. His memories reenacted the legend his father used to tell them. Pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Perhaps...perhaps John wasn't human...making the siblings inhuman as well.
"Of course," he breathed. At Prue's raised brow, he quickly shared the parts he was sure about, and waited for her opinion. Prue and Emmy were the logical sisters--his best and favorite sounding boards.
"Your deduction has merit, but I feel there is still too much we don't know; too much they don't know. I do believe we'll find the answers if we follow this Erza's amulet. No matter our sisters' decisions, the two of us will help them," Prue replied.
The Hummer bucked as bullets thumped into the side, the impacts resonating. Zeke slid back into the driver's seat tersely ordering Prue to stay down. He revved the engine, spun the wheel, and backed up to the building's double doors. The bullets slammed into the windshield, denting the bulletproof material. Damn. It's the reinforcements. Zeke dug around under his seat and finally withdrew a large pistol. He didn't know much about guns, preferring his hands, and sometimes a knife. One of the men on his father's digs had insisted he learn to shoot one, at least.
He opened the passenger and driver's doors. Not much, just enough that he could swing them wide in an instant. In the rearview mirror, he saw Emmy dive over the seat and open the rear doors in a similar manner. She huddled low to the floor so she could shove the doors completely open at the right moment. Zeke wondered when his youngest sister had woken up, let alone assessed the situation well enough to read his intentions.
"What are you doing? Are you nuts? Shut the doors! We're safe in here!" Prue yelled over the cacophony of gunfire and hailing bullets.
"Yes, we're safe, but Erza and the others are going to need cover to get in here. If we time it right, we can use the doors to shield them and me as I cover their approach. Now, shut up, I'm concentrating!" he yelled back, examining the building closely. His heart hammered in his throat. He begged all the Gods of old for Erza's safe return to his side.
The warehouse doors crashed open, and four blurred figures darted out of the cavernous building. Zeke shoved the doors of the Hummer open and fired between the car's door and frame to give them time to enter the vehicle.
Zeke felt the car shift as bodies piled inside. He counted the number of slammed doors. One. Two...three. Good they're all in. He dove back into his seat, yanked his door shut, and floored the gas pedal.
Erza laughed. "Damn, Zeke! Every time I see you, someone's trying to kill me! There's got to be an easier way of getting my attention," she teased, stowing her bloody katana between her seat and the console. He saw her grab a gun from under her seat and check the clip before chambering a round.
"Well, I thought about flowers but decided they were too tame," Zeke quipped, surprising himself. He didn't know where the flippant attitude came from; it just seemed like the right response.
"Yeah, nothing says 'I love you' like driving the getaway car," she said, cranking down the window and firing behind them.
Zeke decided not to touch that comment--not for all the tombs in Africa. "Where to?" he asked instead. He checked the rearview mirror as he picked random turns. The people chasing them were either too injured to do much or more unskilled at car chases than Zeke, because they quickly lost their pursuers.
"No clue. If they know about this place, then they know about all our other properties. We're stuck, for the moment...hang on."
"The Tennessee Stud" sounded from her lap. Erza yanked the phone from her pocket. "Murphy's Mule Barn, Head Ass speaking."
Zeke choked on his laughter at her greeting. I'll have to use that the next time Jo calls. She'll get a kick out of it. Not that Jo ever called him. Prue hated men and tolerated him, but Jo desired the evisceration of anything male. More than that, she hungered to see Zeke boiled alive and slowly fed to the crocodiles of the Nile.
"Faolan, if you weren't one of my Warriors, I would kiss you! Hell, I might anyway since I'm no longer the Regina! See you in a few," Erza hung up and twisted to face them, "Faolan's been busy. He's not only retrieved your package, but he's booked a plane to Russia. We're to meet him at the airfield in thirty."
Zeke nodded and punched the airport button on the built-in GPS. He lifted an incredulous brow as a low, sultry voice gave him directions. She definitely wasn't factory standard.
"Before we continue with this plan, we need to discuss something," Erza said, attempting to turn further in her seat so she could face the Warriors directly.
Uh-oh. 'We need to discuss something,' a.k.a. 'We need to talk.' Never a good phrase to hear from a woman's lips, Zeke thought grimly.
"According to the Noble Council, I'm no longer the Regina. I'm slated for death, but the Warriors aren't. You can drop me here and return to the Council. They won't punish you for your actions today; they wouldn't dare," she said, her voice bland, and far too calm for such a sensitive discussion.
Shouldn't such a betrayal make her feel hurt? Even rage would be better than this eerie apathy she's got going on, Zeke thought, trying to catch a glimpse of her face and pay attention to the road. He finally gave up, deciding their lives were more important than her expression at the moment.
Do you really think, after watching your back for four hundred years, we'd simply abandon you now?" Vladimir snarled. Zeke mentally shook his head--grateful he wasn't the target of the Fox's wrath.
"You watched my back because I was your Regina. It was in the best interest of our race. That's no longer the case," Erza said still calm. She leaned forward and stowed her gun out of sight.
Ouch, Zeke thought, wincing, way to poke the bear, woman.
"We protected you, fought at your side, cared for you, RAISED YOU, well before you became the Regina, and you think we did it all out of DUTY?" Vladimir roared.
The Hummer shuddered as something hit the window. Zeke heard the crack of breaking glass.
Man, is he pissed. That glass is tempered to withstand bullets, he thought.
Roderick's bored tone broke through the tension in the car. "Erza, who has sacrificed the most to protect you? To keep you safe, happy, and healthy?"
Zeke glanced over and wondered about the puzzled frown on Erza's face.
"Vladimir of course. He spent decades teaching me to fight. He taught me to protect myself and our people. He-he killed his own father to keep me alive," she stuttered.
"That night, we could have let the previous Fox face imprisonment, banishment, or just left him wounded. Vladimir chose the only path that would best safeguard you but hurt him the most. Why would he do that, Erza?" Roderick asked.
"I-I don't know. I never understood his decision or yours for that matter," Erza said.
Oh, sweetheart, Zeke thought, a touch of pity coloring his thoughts, so old; so wise, and yet, so naive.
"You mean my decision to lie and say you challenged your father's right to rule?"
At Erza's nod, Roderick continued, "I was cursed at birth to live my life without emotion. I will never know joy, excitement, regret, lust, or hatred. The day you were born, I felt for the first and only time: Love. The night you killed your father, I made my decision based on the memory of that feeling. I've never had cause to question it. Not. One. Time."
Zeke darted another glance at Erza's face. Her expression confused him: delight mixed with a good amount of loathing.
"I know how you feel about that word," Vladimir said. Zeke saw him in the mirror. The Fox was scrutinizing Erza's expression as well.
"That's why I've never used it, but I thought the way I felt was obvious." Vladimir's voice softened to a gentle caress. "You are both my annoying little sister and beloved daughter. You and the Warriors are the only family I have and all I've ever needed. I will die for you, Erza; not the Regina of a dying race, you."
"But - this could be the equivalent of seceding from our people, our... country, I guess," Erza said. "The Council won't accept this."
"Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of War. From this day to the ending of the world, but we in it shall be remembered, We few, we happy few, we band of brothers." Lucius intoned from the hatch. Zeke winced at the Warrior's mixing of Shakespearean quotes.
"The Council of Nobles was formed to support the ruling family. They were to aid new-found members of our race to learn our ways and to settle petty disputes amongst the people. They don't actually have any authority over the Regina or the Warriors," Roderick said, his voice bland, as if reciting from an encyclopedia.
A high-pitched whinny pealed--loud in the confines of the Hummer. He heard Vladimir chuckle before saying, "Faolan says to tell you, and I quote, 'Don't even think of bailing. You promised to test my new recipe. I'm holding you to it.'"
"Good grief, didn't we just test the Chef's Surprise?" she muttered, twisting back to face the windshield. Zeke noticed a single tear trace down her cheek. He didn't say anything. If anyone understood pride, it was him.
"Okay. That's it, then. Next stop, Russia, and hopefully some answers," Erza said, turning to the window.
Lucius's voice took on chilling undertones as he said, "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, or close the wall up with our English dead."