Captive: Hopeless

Chapter 36 - Backlash

"It turns out that stealing a couple of million dollars' worth of horseflesh is not that hard," Kay reported to the group for the first time—feeling a little out of her depth. "All Leonard had to do was wait for the driver to take a pee beside a dirt road on a deserted stretch of highway, jump into his (still idling truck) and drive away."

"And thank our lucky stars that we are not the idiot vampire who has to explain losing her horse to Amanda Livingstone. Especially when he got out of the truck without turning it off, locking it, or taking the keys," Cat chuckled. "Even worse, he left his gun, wallet, and phone. It looks bad for him, premeditated even, and it is doubtful whether he will survive the tale."

"Leonard, one of Cat's "associates," drove the truck and trailer into a container truck lined with lead. En route, another "associate" disabled the GPS tracker, and a vet removed the tracking chip from the horse," Kay continued her report.

Unlike in the movies, there was no high-speed chase, unexpected police, or a vampire able to run at inhuman speeds to catch up and kill them.

It was almost laughably easy.

"We dumped the original truck and trailer five miles from Marius's training farm in an abandoned shed. Cleaned it off, sprayed it with enough scent neutralizer to fool anything, and left it for a week before calling in an anonymous tip to the police. We covered our tracks using a cellphone stolen from one of Deane's human employees, which we returned to his possession. It was fuel on a fire already burning out of control.

"Especially when we made it look like the rig used to kidnap the horse had been rented by one of Marius's trainers. A young, cash-strapped boy suddenly found himself in possession of a significant amount of money paid out by a shell company with no outright owner. We hacked their system because they did business with both Deane and Marius," she concluded her presentation.

Stirring fires was ridiculously simple, and they watched with awe and trepidation as the dark world burned.

***

Weeks turned into months, and they kept stirring the fire back to life. Despite Megan's best efforts, Azera always managed to outwit her, just long enough to cause damage.

It became a bit of a rivalry between the two women. Megan attempted to prove to Azera that something was wrong, that she was being played, and Azera... did not care for the explanations.

The dark queen's reign of terror had become more than rumors and innuendo.

What the Light, Kay, and her cohorts hadn't counted on was that they were out of time. Carduran hid his hand so well that when he executed his startling gambit, it was an open declaration of war.

The best-laid plans of mice and men were thrown asunder with such brutal recklessness that the shock waves of his actions rocked into the human world as he openly attacked.

***

Kay stood in the middle of an unfamiliar forest. Shock sent ripples and shudders through her body as her mind took in what had just happened to her.

For months, she had trained for this day. She lived alongside death for years but killing made her feel hot and cold, nauseous. Adrenaline drove her to this point, but now it was wearing off.

She wanted to scream or run away and hide in a dark hole forever. Instead, she remained motionless. Unable to move now that the threat was gone, she stared at the forest with sightless eyes as her mind replayed the past few hours in flashes of perfect detail—the curse of perfect recall.

The past intruded irrelevantly in between as if trying to distract her from the horror she witnessed and the unspeakable acts she committed with such ease when her training kicked in. This horrible day revealed her shocking natural affinity for war and her ability to turn into a stone-cold killer at the flip of a coin.

Somewhere far off, there were voices. In the void of Kay's body, the hollow raw core where her emotions were, she even recognized them but didn't move or respond; she just could not.

***

The enemy had come out of nowhere. So many helicopters converged on their position and rained black-clad men from the sky.

This had been intended to be a simple training exercise—a way to teach her to work with their special forces teams and to lead them.

Forty of them were airlifted to this place at dawn, but they hadn't even managed to set up their gear when the choppers arrived.

She watched the team leader, Vixen (Victoria,) die in the instant it took her to realize they were under attack, and this was not part of the plan.

It dawned on her that they were up against too many well-armed adversaries, and her people had only their handguns, field knives, and skills.

Surging into motion, running was an instinctive response, and where she stood only moments before, silver bullets slapped into the bark in a precise and controlled line. She ducked and drew her handgun but could not fire wildly, she had only thirty shots, and each one needed to count.

The enemy had automatic weapons and would not run out of bullets soon. Startled by an enemy caught in her crosshairs, she pulled the trigger as she slid across the ground to find cover under a low-lying shrub. The shot found its mark with eerie accuracy, right below the rim of that combat helmet and precisely between the eyes.

There was no point in shooting anywhere else—these men wore thick, bulletproof combat gear, and her people had to rely on a much lighter version. How glad she was that Darius talked Marcus into giving them live ammunition, or this would have been like shooting fish in a barrel.

The man's head snapped back, and he dropped like a puppet as the snub-nosed bullet imploded into fragments meant to do the absolute maximum amount of damage. Not even the helmet could contain the explosion of blood, bone, and brains that spurted out the back of his head.

Time freeze-framed as shock ripped through her at the realization that she had killed a man.

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