Page 54 of Ashes of Honor

She kicked open the doors. They slammed to the sides, taking down two assailants from the front. Amaia unlatched both swords and twirled them in her palms. We were in the middle of nowhere. An open field with no witnesses other than the company en route speeding toward us. I spun around, dropping both knives into the stomach of presumably the driver and pounced. Pulling them free, I drove them back down, over, and over again. His puncture wounds oozed with the metallic scent of blood as it painted my face.

Unfortunately, we were not alone. Four vans had been keeping our tail, all stocked with armed, stupid in the fucking head guards. I watched on as the women in the bunch narrowed in on Amaia, wrongfully taking her as the weaker target. She smirked in acceptance of the challenge and we fell into step. The assailants charged forward, lacking the understanding that we were clearly outnumbered yet unfazed.

They lacked common sense, and I took joy in the offering of a good fight. I pulled free two of my guns. Firing through two of the targets, their bodies fell in tandem. We stepped over them like neglected cobblestone roads and they groaned under our weight. Amaia tossed free some of her fire. The putrid smell of human barbecue clustered at the base of my nostrils. Theycircled us and we fell back to back. Assaulting us was a group effort—one they still managed to fail.

Though Amaia had lost one of her swords in the fight, she still swung one proudly before her face in dare. She yelled with the heart of a dragon and worked her way through their bodies. I followed suit, dropping the guns when I ran out of ammo. The soft push and pull of stabbing had always felt more therapeutic of a death to bring. I ducked as a metal chain laced baseball bat swished through the air above my head. I grabbed onto it and brought it down. His head splintered, the burst reminiscent to a dropped melon but I kept moving.

I grounded myself and scoped out our current situation. Amaia did the same, reaching her hand out briefly to clasp within mine. Ten down, two to go.

“On your left,Bloodhound,” she said with the nod of her head.

I smirked, eyes falling to the approaching hulk of a man heading right for her. “On your left, Princess.”

My knees were kicked out from under me but I was quick to hop back to the balls of my feet. A wiry yet oddly strong hand gripped at the knives in my hands and pulled them free. It turned into an all-out brawl as he flipped one around and dove for my gut. I tossed out an arm, stopping him with the hard contact of forearm on wrist. Reaching for the side of his neck, I brought him closer, offering a false sense of an opening.

He took it, leaning forward with the momentum I needed to drive a strong push down and flip him to his back. With one stomp to the base of his palm, the knife fell. I picked it up and stabbed it into the side of his neck with a sickly melodic sound of metal entering flesh.

The scent of flames came close behind me but made no move to strike. “You look great,” Amaia said and I pulled my gaze up her body.

Red splattered like freckles across her nose and forehead. Her shirt was torn on the side and there were several slash marks on the brown skin of her torso. The rise and fall of her chest was ragged. Tired. But otherwise, she was in mint condition considering the shit we’d just gone through. There was resolve in her posture.

“As do you,” I said, tapping her ass with a hard slap as I guided her back toward the van we’d arrived in. She leaned down, swiping up the sword she’d lost.

“Freaking finally,” Reina complained the moment Amaia removed her gag. “I coulda helped more than inspire fear you know, not totally useless.”

“Pretty sure they were scared because he damn near painted his face in blood,” Abel groaned, barely coming to. He was bleeding from the back of his scalp but it had slowed to but a dribble at the first contact of Reina’s touch. “Actually, he’s scaring me. Please back up.”

“My bad,” Amaia shrugged. “Thought you could get going on Abel during the wait.”

She scooted out the bed of the van and offered Reina a hand. I dragged Abel to the edge then hopped down. Amaia stood next to me, hands on her hips, eyes squinting as she considered our choice of vehicles to make the drive back. “See what we can take and put it in one car. I’m ready to get the fuck home.”

Reina offered a polite smile and brushed herself off. With quick reassurance she helped Abel lean against the side of the van before making her way toward the one on the far left. The van I tackled was empty minus the storage of gas stockpiled in the back. At first, I assumed we were riding solar, but with all this gas and ignoring the stench of death, I realized it was a regular engine.

None of it was anything that could be of use for us. We’d drive a vehicle back but all it did was cut the two hours we hadleft down to thirty minutes. Monterey had chosen not to clear the roads long ago. Now it was a tactical advantage Amaia had no intention of changing anytime soon. I walked back to the center, coming shoulder to shoulder with my girl, who appeared faintly annoyed at finding nothing useful. We got to work on the bodies, collecting their weapons, ammo, and anything else that could take or spare a life.

“It’s like a video game,” I teased, my heart skipping at Amaia’s genuine burst of laughter. I joined in, covering my mouth at the faint snort I’d never heard myself make before. There was a joy only she could bring out of me and I hoped to revel in it for the rest of my life.

Amaia dropped to her knees, clutching her stomach as she mimicked the sounds of a war game. “Ding. Ding.”

A gunshot rang out. “Uh, guys? There are people back here,” Reina called, her gun trained on a group as a guard slumped to the ground behind her.

Within two seconds I’d realized Abel was no longer at our backs and the sound of gunfire had come from the van Reina had gone to investigate. We rushed over, peering into the back of the van. Ten bodies were crammed inside. I didn’t know what the fuck I was looking at or where they’d come from. I couldn’t have guessed from their attire alone.

Their expressions ranged from utterly terrified to menacing and likely to try me at first opportunity. Abel stood over another guard with his jaw blown off. I strode off, offering some support and removing his leaning body off the door of the van for stabilization.

Amaia side-eyed me in question. The floor was hers. It wasn’t my job to influence her decisions. She was general. I was a soldier under her command. I’d played this role for years, but it was only now that I felt comfortable enough to offer full control with the trust that she would do the right thing. She always didin the end. Even if that meant walking the thin line of being the bad guy to do so.

“No,” Reina spoke, either sensing Amaia’s emotions through her magic or reading the remorse clearly etched on her face.

Abel straightened, “No, what? What’s going on?”

“She wants to leave them.”

“Not only would that be extremely reckless of me—they’re witnesses,” Amaia said, referring to all that they might have heard, addressing Reina and Reina only. At the end of the day, Abel was a soldier too. Reina’s objection had no merit on whether he would follow through with orders or not.

“Witnesses to what? Look at them,” Reina raised a finger, pointing to the objectively most innocent looking one. “They’re terrified. I canfeelit.”

“Which means you can also feel their anger and disgust,” Amaia closed the doors to the van though I took Reina’s gun and stood guard with Abel half-here and half wherever the hell the pain was taking him to dissociate.

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