The Liberator

16 Knockout Charlie

I don’t make eye contact with Easton, I just pull Charlie into my arms and race toward the back of the warehouse, searching wildly for Blue.

Charlie takes one look at my face and seems to know something has happened. Her head whips side to side, searching for the cause of my panic. Blue sees me when I’m a few feet away, and his eyes widen. He rushes forward.

Placing Charlie down, I nudge her toward Blue.

“Take her,” I tell him. “Get her out of here now.” I ready myself to force Blue if I have to, but he doesn’t hesitate. Grabbing Charlie’s hand, he makes for the door, snaking between dancing bodies.

Spinning around, I search for Aspen and Annabelle. If these flesh-tattooed guys are connected, I know they’re probably here for either me or Charlie, but I won’t leave the other two girls behind. One is Charlie’s best friend, who happens to be a friend of mine, too. And Aspen, well, the moment I saw that tattoo on Easton’s arm, I remembered the world I live in is divided by good and evil, and that you can’t hide from either. Aspen is my assignment, and if I want to play for Big Guy’s team, I have to liberate her soul. Plus, Aspen is…Aspen. I can’t leave her.

But when I search for Aspen on the table, or Annabelle in the crowd, I find neither. Now I’m wondering if Blue’s made it to the car. Except I didn’t give him the keys.

Damn it!

Vowing to return for the girls, I sprint toward the door Blue and Charlie left through. As soon as I blast outside and into the winter night, I spot Blue shielding my girlfriend with his body. Easton and Salem creep toward him like hyenas, their eyes cold and calculating. I had hoped we would have time to slip away before the brothers knew I was onto them, but I guess I screwed that up when I sprinted away from Easton with Charlie in my arms. Watching them now, I expect them to sneer. I expect them to hurl insults and divulge their plan. But they don’t. They just skirt closer to Blue and analyze the situation.

Two against one, they seem to decide. Because there’s no way Charlie can defend herself.

I slink along the edge of the wall, pulling on my shadow so I can’t be seen. Blue appears to gauge the distance between Easton and him, between Salem and him. If he waits too long, he won’t stand a chance. To fight, you need room. I hope he knows this. Remembering the way he was in life—a skinny, mumbling Eeyore—I can’t imagine he does.

But he strikes out like a bolt of lightning, flashing toward Easton and hitting him once along his jaw. While Easton recovers, Blue charges toward Salem and slams into him like an eighteen-wheeler. My chest explodes with pride at how quickly he rebounds and fights the two brothers. Still, even though he’s blowing my freaking mind, I know he won’t be able to hold them off for long. Attacking without a fear of dying grants you a certain advantage, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be overtaken.

I barrel toward Salem. He looks in my direction the moment before an invisible fist connects with his stomach. Down he drops. I shake off my shadow so Blue can see I’m here. Once he does, he concentrates his attention on Easton. The two kick and tear like dogs along the ground, while I drag Salem up and we battle on our feet.

Salem gets two clean shots into my side and face after I turn to check if Charlie’s safe. I spin on the eldest brother and wrestle him to the wall.

“Blue, wrap your hands around Easton’s throat,” I yell. “Squeeze until he stops fighting, but don’t kill him.”

“Leave him alone,” Salem snarls, writhing against me. I manage to hold him in place and hope that behind me, Blue is overpowering Easton.

He must be, because soon after I hear Blue say, “Having trouble breathing?”

“Remember, Blue, not too much,” I say, taunting Salem. “Just make sure his brother here answers my questions.”

“Got it.” His words sound strained, and I know I may only have so long before the brothers break free.

“First question,” I say, leaning toward Salem. “Who the hell are you?”

“Screw you.”

“Blue, can you squeeze a little tighter?” I say.

There’s a short pause before Blue answers with, “Ooh, he doesn’t like that one bit.”

“Who are you?” I repeat to Salem.

The elder brother glances over my shoulder, and his brow furrows. “You know my name, prick,” he says.

“What does that tattoo on your brother’s arm mean?”

Salem’s eyes snap to mine. I can see the surprise swimming in them.

“Dante?” Charlie says.

“It’s okay, angel,” I tell her. “We’re just getting to know these guys a little better.” I shove Salem harder into the wall. “What does the tattoo mean?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he growls.

“Blue?” I say like a question.

Salem thrashes around like a snared wolf. I grab his shirt and rip. Buttons plink off as I tear the material down.

“What are you doing?” Salem yells.

Finally, I see the flesh-colored tattoo—the brand—I knew I’d find. It’s a circle with an “A” in the middle, the sign of anarchy if memory serves. “This tattoo.” I yell, tired of not getting answers. “Tell me what it means!”

Salem looks at his brother and grinds his teeth. “We all have them. It’s a brand. Means we’re part of the sirens.”

“What the hell is that?”

Salem shakes his head and glares at me. “I don’t know, man,” he says. “These guys came to us and said they’d fix us up if we did what they asked.”

“Fix you up how?” I fire.

“Money. Crap we need.” Salem presses his lips together and closes his eyes for a moment. “Money my family needs.”

“Who asked you to do this? What were their names?” A chill spreads through my body anticipating his response.

Salem opens his eyes and seems to think. “I don’t remember.”

“Not good enough,” I say. “Blue?”

“Stop hurting him, damn it.” Salem tries to land a knee into my groin, but I turn my body in time and slam him back against the wall.

“Answer me or your brother gets buried.” I look him dead in the eyes, make him see I’m not playing.

“I swear they didn’t give us their names. But there was this one guy. He stood near the back. Weird dude. He only talked a few times, but the way he spoke, it was like he was from the sixteen-hundreds or something, saying his words all proper and shit.” Salem pauses like he’s remembering something else. “He had on these ugly-ass red shoes.”

I suck in air between my teeth, because now I know. Rector is back. The collectors are back, and they’re using humans to do their bidding. The hair on my arms prickles when I remember the way Rector transformed the night he kidnapped Charlie. The way his body and face warped into something closer to demon than human. It made me question how much humanity was left in him, if any. “What did they want you and your brother to do?”

Salem glances at Charlie, and I’m pretty sure I’m seconds away from ripping his throat out. “They said to find her.” He nods toward Charlie. “And to…”

“And to what?” I ask quietly, fighting the impulse to scream.

Salem looks at me. “To get her to hurt herself.”

I yank my fist back to break his jaw but hear a loud smack before my hand connects with his face. Glancing to my left, I see Charlie shaking her hand out, her face flushed with fury.

I barely have time to process that my girlfriend punched Salem in the face before Blue calls out. I spot Easton backing away from Blue along the ground and getting to his feet. His eyes seek out Charlie, and like a rabid animal, he charges toward her.

Cocking my arm, I rush forward and land a shot clean into Easton’s temple. Salem slams into my back at the same time that someone yells from beside us.

Even from the ground, I can see it’s Aspen and Annabelle piled into Blue’s rental car. Aspen’s window is rolled down, and Annabelle is reaching behind her to throw open the back door. Though I’m laid out, I watch as Blue grabs Charlie’s hand and races toward the car. He gets her inside and turns back toward me. Salem yanks me to my feet, and a fully recovered Easton plows his fist into my stomach. I double over and groan, wondering how the hell I’m going to get out of here. Not really caring if I do as long as the others are safe.

I plan to wave Aspen on, to tell them to get out of here now. But when I look up, I see Blue churning toward the brothers like a tsunami. He slams into Salem, who’s holding me upright, and it’s just enough time for me to lay into Easton. I only hit him once, then grab Blue’s shoulder and run for the sedan.

“Start driving, start driving,” I yell to Aspen as we race toward her.

She pushes down on the accelerator, just enough to get the car moving. Seconds later, I dive into the backseat and nearly land on top of Charlie. Blue smashes into me, and Aspen peels out of the parking lot, fishtailing on ice as Blue yanks the door shut behind him.

When I feel the tires hit the road, I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Is anyone badly hurt?” I direct the question to everyone, but I’m looking at Charlie, wrapping my arms around her, touching each place I can to make sure she’s whole. She presses against me, and our eyes never waver.

No one says anything for a moment.

Finally, Blue exclaims, “Holy crap.”

“Right? That mess was crazy,” I say, still looking at Charlie. A bubble of laughter builds in my chest, though I know it’s more from nerves than actual humor.

“No, look,” Blue barks, pointing behind us. “Isn’t that your rental car?”

I turn to look and catch sight of my lime-green Kia Rondo zipping toward us.

“That damn car,” I mumble. The assholes must have gotten my keys during the scuffle. When I reach into my back pocket, I find that’s not the only thing I lost—my ivory horn is gone. “Aspen, you’re going to have to step on it.”

Aspen glances in the rearview mirror. “Believe it or not, that POS may be able to outrun us.”

I jerk around to look at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That car couldn’t outrun a wheelchair.”

“Actually, it has a similar engine as this car, and it’s lighter. So yeah, it could.”

“Just drive, woman,” I snap, noticing how fast their headlights are gaining on us.

Aspen doesn’t say anything. When I turn back around, I notice her gloved hands are gripping the wheel tighter than before.

“What are we going to do?” Annabelle whispers.

Aspen switches on the radio and flips the stations until she finds what she’s looking for.

“What are you doing?” I yell. “Stop messing around.”

Heavy, grinding rock blasts through the speakers as Aspen pushes the car faster. “We can’t outrun them. Not even with me driving. But we can keep pace for a while. Long enough.”

“Long enough for what?” Charlie says. Her voice is even and controlled, and I can’t help staring at her, wondering how she can be so calm.

“To get back to my house,” Aspen says.

“The cabin? “ Blue asks.

“No.” Aspen turns the volume up.

“We’re going to drive all the way back to Denver?” I ask, watching the headlights behind us, steady in their pursuit. “That’ll take almost an hour.”

“It won’t take near that long,” she says over the music. “And in the meantime, you guys can tell me what I’m running from.”