Page 7 of Deathless
3
RORI
“You got a cigarette?” I asked Torr.
He patted the inner pockets of his leather jacket. “No, I’m all out.”
“Goddamnit,” I groaned into my coffee cup.
“Sorry, Reaper.” He laughed. “When did you become such a smoker, anyway?”
“Being a leader is stressful, okay? Now I get why Reaper was such a dick when he didn’t have his cloves and whiskey.” I tapped my fingernails against the ceramic mug, watching the driveway from the front porch. “They should have been back by now.”
Torr propped his boots on the porch railing. “Did you try calling LJ?”
“Yeah, straight to voicemail.”
“There’s a lot of dead zones out there. I’m sure they’re fine.”
“And if they’re not?”
“We can’t make decisions based on what we don’t know. Only what we do know.”
“Thanks, Carter,” I grumbled.
Torr just chuckled, all Mr. Calm and Collected while I watched the road like a hawk. Last week, I’d sent LJ, the Saint, and another ex-gladiator, the Bull, to watch the Sisterhood’s village. After making sure they didn’t follow us, I wanted to know how they’d react to us taking Hudson, their prized breeding stud. Would they increase patrols? Sacrifice or kidnap more men? Those women were nothing if not tightly controlled and organized. I needed to know the ins and out of everything they did.
Scratching my head, I thought back to the dreams I’d been having ever since we’d gotten Hudson out of there. They always started the same way, some idyllic scene playing out like I was watching a film about my future. There was love, laughter, family. Sometimes even children that didn’t exist yet. Then it would slowly morph into something horrifying. My men with chains around their necks and limbs, if they were present at all. Me, sometimes with other women, standing on the bodies of men I knew.
And there was always that gross fleshy thing that looked like a cross between someone’s liver and a giant slug. That seemed to be the source of everything. It felt immensely powerful and dangerous. Like if I wasn’t careful, it was going to slide its way into my ear canal and control me like an alien parasite.
The gods, Astarte, Lupa, and Tezcatlipoca, had given me a warning. And I couldn’t shake that it had something to do with these dreams.
A distant roaring pulled my attention back to the road, and I stood at attention, squinting at the horizon. “Do I see riders?”
“Yep. Our boys are back.”
I was already off the porch and heading down the gravel driveway before Torr brought his feet down to follow. We passed by Santos, the Hunter, and some of the other guys working out on our way out to the road.
“That them?” Santos sheathed his machetes and wiped the sweat from his face with his shirt hanging around his neck.
“Yeah. Coming?”
He shook his head, grinning as he pointed to Torr. “This fucker owes me deadlifts. I’m waiting here until he gets back.”
“I got you, Santos, but it has to wait until I’m done with VP business.” Torr gestured to me like it was obvious.
“Sounds like stalling to me,” the Hunter chimed in, gulping water down as he leaned against one of the supports of a pull-up bar. “Who knows if he’s got it in him to do five-hundred?”
“I’ll do the five-hundred and then your ass on top of it,” Torr hollered back.
“You guys are all very cute together,” I chuckled once we were a good distance away.
“They’re good dudes.” He rubbed the back of my neck, rough fingers gently pinching and massaging the way I liked it. “I wasn’t sure at first, but you’ve got a good club here, President.”
“I hope the same can be said for these two.” I shielded my eyes from the sun, squinting to make out the approaching riders. My cousin LJ was the only one I trusted implicitly among them, and I was eager to get a full private report from him later on.
“Who’s giving you doubts?” Torr asked.
