Chapter 13 Champion #2
He smiled again. “A prisoner is the last thing I want or need. Why do you think I had you in the dungeon? Taking care of prisoners. I propose a deal. You pacify your men, and I’ll give you what you want.
I’ll even throw in a Taco and a ring.” He looked at Kitten.
“I disabled the trackers. Your friends really shouldn’t be involved in this kind of brawling. I’m sure you understand.”
She started sputtering. “I understand? I don’t understand anything. You’re saying the kitten and my ring had trackers?”
He blinked at her then gave me a gleaming smile. “That’s right. She’s the innocent one who doesn’t put trackers on people. Unlike you. I’d have to dissect you very thoroughly to get all of the signals out of your body. Everybody wants to know where you are.”
I frowned at him while my skin felt itchy.
I wanted to rip out everything that could control or contain me, but I was now the sole heir to the House of Beasts.
Daniel would be the first one to inject a tracker in me.
My mother was really gone thanks to Kitten and Flowers.
I was left with her legacy, her business, her enemies, and her army.
She controlled them with her mind and will. I could do that, take her place with them, but was that a burden I wanted to carry? It would help me protect my wife.
“It’s a deal,” I said, nodding at the King of Macao. “You give me the research, and I’ll keep them from killing you.” I could do at least that much.
“Excellent. Now, let’s play poker. Kitten, you’re going to love it.”
I snarled. “That’s Mrs. Death-Hammer, to you.” That was my beast, taking over so effortlessly. Oh. He’d been the one who warned off the waiter, too. He’d been hovering on the edge ever since we found out she was dying.
I growled, “Show me the research.”
He shook his head. “You don’t trust me? I never go back on a deal. I have my reputation to maintain.”
“Let’s play poker,” Kitten said, tugging on my hand. “Unless they’re going to shoot more torpedoes at us. In which case, we can jump over the edge. I’m a very good swimmer.”
“These are shark-infested waters, Kitten. Sorry, Mrs. Death-Hammer.” King said, pulling out a deck of cards.
“You know the drill, Mr. Death-Hammer. House of Beast will fire a shot as a warning, then come overboard like the pirates they are and subdue their opponents. They work for profit, not vengeance, so the death count will be low. It won’t be anything if you’re as good as your mother was at handling the criminal element.
I don’t really see it. You’re too precious.
The sweat and blood on your skin bothers you. ”
“Don’t listen to him, Nix,” Kitten said, gripping my arm. “He’s wearing Il de Carmen, one of the most expensive aftershaves in the world. He’s a prissy boy under those gold caps.”
I patted her hand, her sweet, beautiful, wonderful hand, still holding me even though she knew what I could become. I didn’t deserve her. I kissed her palm, her fingers, and then her knuckles before I stood up and turned to face the King of Macao.
“You have their prince, the one they hope will be their king. They won’t be running on reason or vengeance, just desperation. My mother ruined every one of them so they’d rely on her for their mental stability. Emotional stability. Let’s see if I can stop this slaughter.”
King laughed, but you could hear the nerves. “Suddenly I feel underdressed. Where’s my armored suit?”
Kitten might be suspected of killing the Crocodile, which would make her the target. Where could I put her that would keep her safe? Daniel. He would protect her if he could. And the King of Macao?
I turned to face the older gentleman who was frowning at the deck of cards, apparently disappointed that I wouldn’t be playing. “I have a suggestion.”
He smiled at me. “Let us hear your grand scheme.”
“I will lead your men against the House of Beasts. You will defend Kitten. It will take time to make them see reason. Daniel will help you protect her.”
“Daniel?”
“You’d call him the Prophet,” Kitten said helpfully.
The King of Macao smiled at her. “Ah. That Daniel. And the three of us could play poker while protecting you.”
He had a one-track mind. I went to the nearest guy on King’s payroll. Or maybe they were loyal subjects. I didn’t care. It didn’t matter.
“Do you speak English?” I asked the men.
They all shrugged.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m Nix Death-Hammer.
If y’all don’t mind, I’ll be leading you against the House of Beasts.
The purpose isn’t to beat them, because you can’t.
It’s to delay them so I can beat them. Y’all probably saw me in the cage this past week.
That was me playing. I’m not playing anymore. Any questions?”
One guy raised his hand. Remarkable. King cultivated hand-raisers? How bizarre.
“Yes, sir,” I said, nodding at him.
“Yes, will you be giving us demonstrations on how to fight them before they get here? Maybe some training?”
King yelled at him, “He’s going to think I don’t train you lot,” then broke out in loud laughter.
They looked slightly nervous, but kept eyes on me expectantly.
I finally shrugged. “Sure. Come on. Let’s see where you are.”
The guy pulled a gun on me. I disarmed him and almost dislocated his elbow before I remembered that this was a training demonstration.
My Beast didn’t want demonstrations to be lacking in pain that would make the lessons stick.
That had been my training experience, but I’d spent years out of the House of Beasts, learning that there were other ways of doing things that were even more effective.
“Trouble is you weren’t in gun range,” I explained, hauling him back to his feet.
“Close range is knives and fists. Also, we’re keeping this fight less mortal combat, more training practice.
If you bring a gun, you’re gonna get your head ripped right off.
I have at least ten men who will react exactly like that to seeing a gun.
Not that guns aren’t useful in their place, but not this place. ”
I gestured to another soldier. “Let’s go.”
He came at me with a bully stick. It also had a built-in taser.
Very interesting. I had it out of his hand and him convulsing on the deck after what felt like a very slow disarmament.
“Very good,” I told him while he shuddered a few more times.
“And I like your choice of weapon. Excellent for in-fighting. Non-lethal. Not a serious threat that’s going to get you killed.
Make sure your knives are not poisoned. The House of Beast can handle poison, but it will get you killed.
Several of the men changed out their easy access weapons.
“Why do you have to fight your own men?” the hand-raiser asked, hand raised, but not waiting for me to call on him this time.
“Why?” I gave him a slow smile while my beast engaged. “If you were in my House of Beasts, wouldn’t you want to fight me from time to time?”
He blinked at me, frowning then slowly nodded. “It is an honor to fight you.”
“Hopefully, everyone will learn something useful from this debacle.”
I climbed on the steering house’s roof and stood there, watching the ships approach.
They were the war ships, too large to easily access this smaller boat.
The smallest one approached first, Daniel standing ready to board.
His pale hair was lit by the sun, but the rest of him was all black assault suit.
He’d look like death even if he didn’t have twin swords sticking above his head.
He gave me a slight nod. I nodded back. He’d go straight for Kitten and keep everyone else back.
That’s what he was prepped for. He wasn’t a leader, but an assassin.
Before the ships were close enough, he leapt over the churning waves, towards the line of men who were prepared to give him battle. I parted them, clearing the deck for Daniel to land in a roll before he jogged over to Sunshine.
I grimaced because I’d taken those minds too readily, too easily. It was hard to work for someone who didn’t respect your basic autonomy.
I expected hatred and fear when the men I’d forcibly moved looked up at me, but it was more like superstitious worship.
They faced their opponents with renewed confidence.
They were led by a god. I hated that. Men making themselves into gods was the ultimate weakness that was easily exploited.
Kitten killed my mother on accident, someone who considered herself a goddess of control and power.
Still, if it gave them confidence, it didn’t hurt if they thought I was a god, as long as I didn’t fall for that lie.
The boats lurched together, hooks fastened them, and then the House of Beasts was spilling over onto the King of Macao’s ship. I waited until Hammond leapt on board, the enormous man clearly enraged at the death of the person who kept his demons at bay.
I leapt to intercept him, blocking his knife arm before I stabbed a taser at his heart, then face-bashed him with my forehead, knocking him back.
I was in his head. It only took a split second to read all of him, to see the jagged holes my mother had exploited.
Death. Pain. Guilt. Suffering. Injustice.
It was all there like a nice little cocktail of misery.
I grabbed him in a hug and squeezed him until his ribs creaked while I whispered, “Good to see you, Hammond,” in his ear.
I said other things in his head, things that steadied his screaming eternal rage, things that explained the injustice, smoothed away the guilt and gave the pain and suffering purpose.
He was needed, as he was, in my House of Beasts.
He pulled back with a feral smile and then forehead bashed me in the face. It would have hurt if my beast wasn’t in control, but as it was, I just screamed at him and then we turned to the House, to stop the wave of rage.
Arnold was next. He wasn’t as easy to catch, maybe because he wasn’t as large, but he saw me coming, and kept trying to slip around.
Tarn tripped him for me, winking at me before he bit someone on the back of the neck.
He was already mine thanks to our last mission.
He still needed therapy, but probably not right this second.
I caught Arnold in a headlock, kicking out another man who lunged at me, twisting him so I could press an extremely hard kiss to his cheek.
He sputtered in outrage, while I walked into his mind and almost walked out again.
He wasn’t nearly as stable as he looked.
Still, I wasn’t in the habit of walking away from my team.
Except that I’d walked away when I was eighteen, leaving him and all the rest in the hands of the Crocodile.
My own guilt was interesting. I showed it to him, let him see some of my own vulnerability and pain, all while dancing around on the deck, dodging knives and punches.
It took so much more time, but finally, he was stable, off the edge of the abyss my mother had left him on.
Able to function as a healthy part of the whole.
I released him and for a moment he hesitated, uncertain which side to take, who to fight for.
“You could retire,” I said, grabbing another man and nodding back to the boat they’d come from. “Take one of the smaller craft, rob the safe, and disappear.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, shaking his head as he turned and punched a man out in one blow. “You’re too soft. If I abandon you, no one will point out the daggers coming at your back.”
I whirled around and dodged the knife strike, grabbed the soldier in a bear hug and rolled him across the deck.
It took that long to get in his head, patch him up, and give him some purpose.
The next was even faster. The more I did this, the faster, easier it was until I could grapple with multiple minds at once.
My beasts grew in number and strength around me, joining the King of Macao’s men, or joining Daniel in his defense of my precious heart.
Finally, I was strangling the last hold-out, a guy from New Jersey who had always been too stupidly stubborn to live.
He was also too stupidly stubborn to die, so there was that.
The King of Macao came forward applauding politely. “Now that was fight worthy of the Prince of Beasts.”
Arnold pulled King’s gun and held it point-blank at his temple. “Kneel before your king.”
“Arnold, if you make me responsible for the King of Macao, I’m going to personally skin you alive and feed you to the sharks.
” I took the gun out of Arnold’s hand and pressed it against the gambler’s temple a bit harder than my man had done.
“Now, I suggest you persuade me to keep my feelings of good will alive.”
He stared at me, reading me, then shrugged and held up a phone.
“Here’s the research you wanted. Plus more in case you’re interested in other issues that may come up in the future.
I’ve looked into it, but I can’t figure out who was behind the destruction of my lab, and the death of your bride’s father.
But here.” He held up the kitten, Taco, who gazed at me with enormous eyes that reminded me of Kitten.
She was currently out of sight in the center of a group of men who would die for their king’s bride.
Prize. Whatever I wanted to call her. Everything. She was my everything.
The world spun and I collapsed, knocking over several men in the process. Others stepped up, catching me, raising me above their heads while they carried me back to our ship, their King captured along with their Queen and the booty, which was a kitten, a yellow ukulele, and a black phone.
They didn’t care how weird the loot was, only happy that they were bringing me home. As long as Kitten was with me, I was home.