Hellions: Badlands: Next Generation Read online

  The song was ancient and from an era long before mine, but that didn’t change its meaning. Music had a way of saying everything your mind couldn’t.

  I adjusted the air temp, glancing in the rearview when I was done. Feeling the weight of my stare, Nyx looked away from the window, locking her gaze with mine.

  Her eyes were sunlight shining through a sea of whiskey and every bit as capable of making you burn from the inside out. She broke contact first, returning to what she thought was her impenetrable bubble.

  If and when I wanted in, I would be. I tapped my fingers on the middle console’s glove compartment, trying to get my head in the game. I think I needed a break. All these different acts were tiresome.

  She let me hold her through the night and gave me the cold shoulder during the day. I needed a different method to get to her and so far all I’d managed to come up with was unapologetically being exactly who I was.

  She still hid her chaos, and I still hid my vicious. I could no longer pretend to give a shit about how bad it would be if we were to bring the two together.

  I couldn’t stop her rapid decay any more than I could stop mine. If we were to rot, we would just have to rot together.

  Something told me, though, that death and darkness were one and the same. I’d made her a promise, and I think it was time she knew I always followed through.

  Chapter Five

  qinque

  When the SUV pulled into the next parking lot, I was all but ready to dive out of it.

  “Hey,” Addy said softly, lifting her head from my shoulder. “What’s going on with you?”

  I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, seeing nothing but concern reflected in hers.

  I couldn’t remember the last time she and I had had the chance to talk one on one. Zane coming into her life was great, but I still felt as if we were drifting apart somewhat.

  I’d never kept anything from her before, especially not to this extent. I hadn’t even told her about sleeping with Maliki. There was just too much to say, and that much more I couldn’t say. Things were bad enough without digging diseased fingers into an open wound.

  Cognizant that everyone else in the SUV had much better hearing than us and tended to be nosey assholes, I brushed the question off with my most believable smile.

  “I’m good. Are you?”

  Her eyes squinted slightly, an indication she knew I was lying.

  “I’m as good as I can be, considering the circumstance. But I asked about you.”

  “I’m trying,” I replied, getting out of the truck before she could say anything more. Spilling all of my problems onto her shoulders wouldn’t be right. She couldn’t fix me, and now was not the time to see if I would break.

  I’d barely taken a full breath of fresh air before Maliki was standing a few feet away from me.

  I turned towards him, trying to think of something to say. I hated that I was always the one to throw the wall up between us. Maliki hurt too, I knew that, and while his armor was begging me to dismantle it, mine continued to grow thorns of poison, warning him away.

  The look on his face had me losing my line of thought.

  It was cold and calculating, giving nothing away, predatory in regard.

  A frigid chill raced down my spine and a small ball of excitement bloomed in my gut. This was how he looked at me when we first met. No, the second time. The first was when he held a blade at my neck.

  I swallowed and licked my lips, staring up at him. In the sunlight, his sienna eyes were married to lighter hues, flecks of color reminding me of a copper penny. There was a glint in them, as if he were privy to something I wasn’t.

  Our moment was broken by Addy and Zane rounding the SUV hand in hand. Behind them were Greer and Trix.

  “We’re gonna head inside.” Zane nodded his head in the direction of the rundown café he’d parked in front of.

  Supposedly, the man we were searching for was a panhandler named Buddy, and a frequent flyer here.

  By panhandler, I meant he was a man who pawned off whatever he could for money or exclusive goods. In this instance, he’d sold off Ace and Darrian. I honestly couldn’t care less if we found Zane’s old fling or not. Seriously, fuck her. Ace, on the other hand, deserved to be located.

  “You two need to wait here,” Addy continued.

  “And why exactly would we do that?” Maliki questioned, finally looking away from me.

  “The last time we took you two into a place for a lead, you killed three people before we got to question one,” Trix answered.

  I guess I could see how that might be an issue, but that had been us trying to make someone speak the hell up.

  “Just let us check it out first. If the environment calls for two hostile hellions, I’ll whistle,” Zane said before his navy gaze swung to me. “I’m more worried about you than him, for the record. Maliki has excellent self control. You don’t.”

  “Neither does your reckless princess.”

  “Hey,” Addy objected.

  He gave me his usual, annoyingly smug grin.

  “I can control Addy.”

  “The bite mark on your neck says otherwise.”

  “The ones on her pert little ass make up for it. So does the one right beside her—”

  “I don’t need any more details,” I interjected.

  “Yeah, this discussion is done. Let’s go, dickhead.” Addy pulled her hand free of his and stalked off.

  “Our guy is supposedly wearing a funky ass hat and boots, for the record.”

  He left us with those words, catching up to Addy in two strides and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

  “You think they have a bathroom?” Greer asked, following with Trix, a hand on his stomach.

  Alone with Maliki once again, I released a heavy breath and took a quick survey of our location before leaning against the side of the truck.

  Heated metal warmed my back through the thin fabric of my tank-top. Maliki settled himself right beside me, crossing muscled arms over his chest. He didn’t attempt to speak to me.

  While that wasn’t unusual for us, the tension and awkwardness was.

  I took stock of the massive pair of balls attached to my chest, and spoke up. “Are you mad at me?”

  “I’m always pissed, Nyx, but never at you.”

  I swallowed thickly and brought a hand up to shade my eyes from the blazing sun, turning so I was facing him. “Is it her?”

  “Loaded question.”

  Not liking his response, I turned back to my original position. “I’m angry. Kinda sad, too.”

  “Is it him?”

  Okay, he was right, this was a hefty question. My answer was equally as weighed down, and I wasn’t ready to go there quite yet, not when we were on unsteady ground for the first time in over a week. So I answered as simply as I could.

  “It’s everything, Malik. Including you.”

  Without warning, he pushed off the truck and stepped directly in front of me, hands landing on the tinted window and caging me in.

  “What is it about me, Nyx? Tell me, because I think it’s time we started accepting the truth.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Hold that thought,” he cut me off and dropped one of his hands to the side of my face, cupping my cheek in a rather intimate way.

  A jolt of electricity skipped through my veins and I froze like a deer in headlights. “What are you—”

  “That Buddy guy just pulled into the rundown shop across the street.”

  I tried to turn my head but he stopped me.

  “Don’t look; you’ll make us obvious. We need him to walk away from his piece of shit van before we make a move. If he recognizes us, he can hop right back in and take off.”

  “Okay, good point. But how do you know it’s him?”

  He glanced down at me with a smirk. “He’s wearing a fedora and cowboy boots, just like Zane described.”

  “Sounds like a terrible combination.”

  “
Oh, it is.”

  He discreetly looked back across the street, and began to stroke my cheek with his thumb.

  “Is that necessary?”

  “Yes. Wrap your arms around my neck.”

  Trusting that he had a plan, I reached up and did as he said without protest.

  From across the street, I heard two distinct voices and the slamming of a door. Having paid no attention to the shop other than a quick note that it was there—and active—I tried to envision the layout.

  “How many people are over there now?”

  “Only four. That’s including him.”

  “So how long do we stand here and hope he doesn’t notice us? Aren’t we drawing more attention to ourselves like this?”

  Hues shifted, coming to rest on mine. Although not unblinking, they remained steady and unwavering. My brain told me to look away, but the warning only had me being drawn in further.

  His eyes were deceitful, a complete contradiction to the way he was touching me.

  There was nothing within their earthy depths but the same coldness he often gazed at the world with. Something else, too, something I wasn’t sure was wise to acknowledge.

  I was confused on some level as to why he would pick now of all times for me to see this, but on another, I understood it. He’d managed to catch me off guard and his method of doing so was as devious as it was brilliant.

  “I think you’re right,” he finally said, still maintaining his piercing stare that seemed as if he could see right to the back of my skull.

  I attempted to lean my face away from his touch, but there was very little space between us and he didn’t seem inclined to give me any leeway.

  “I’m right about what?”

  “Plan B. Look less conspicuous.”

  “Plan B? You didn’t even tell me what Plan A was.”

  His eyes darted away for a fraction of a second, meeting mine once more with that same suspicious glint from moments ago and a hint of a smile waiting at the corners of his mouth.

  It wasn’t what I would refer to as friendly. More calculating.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he warned, gripping my jaw—firmly. And then his mouth was pressing against mine. Whatever thought I’d had burst into flame and went up in smoke.

  The protest that should have come immediately was lost the second his tongue slipped through forcibly parted lips. There was nothing uncertain or gentle about his kiss. He took the control I never willingly gave, dominating me with unmistakable possession and primal desire.

  Call me stupid, call me weak; I melted into his solid form, kissing him back as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The touch holding my jaw captive moved to my hair, fisting a handful almost painfully, eliciting an involuntary moan to escape on a breath he failed to steal.

  He pressed against me, the heat radiating from his body ten times hotter than the sun blazing in the sky above us.

  The ache I struggled to stave off every day blossomed between my thighs with an intensity that had me stifling another treacherous moan. It took restraint I wasn’t aware I had not to spread my legs and beg him to fuck me.

  This was too much for me. Maliki Erebus was too much for me. I attempted to break free of our lip lock and, without warning, teeth sank into my lower lip.

  He held long after I whimpered until a metallic tang hit my tongue.

  When he finally pulled back, he took his touch and the heat of his body with him, creating a much needed gap between us. My hand flew to lips now puffy from his kiss, fingering where there was still a bit of blood.

  “What the hell was that?” I whispered harshly.

  “Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time,” he replied flippantly, like this was no big deal.

  Maybe it wasn’t.

  Maybe I was being a girl over the whole thing, because his expression was one of total indifference. He eyed me carefully before saying, “Don’t start.”

  “Friends don’t kiss like that.”

  “Then I guess we’re not just fucking friends, are we?”

  “Wait.” I held up a hand as if he would actually stop talking.

  “Can’t,” he retorted, snatching it up within his own. “We need to move.”

  Without giving me another option, I was forced to follow, doing a quick one-two speed walk to catch up and match his stride.

  Shoving my confusion and the lingering feel of his kiss into the mental compartment starting to overflow with all my thoughts of him, I focused on the tire shop he was leading me towards.

  “Shouldn’t we have told the others?”

  “No, we don’t answer to them. Besides, I’m positive I heard someone specifically say if the environment calls for two hellions, we should handle it.”

  “Hostile hellions,” I corrected, gently tracing my tongue over where he’d bitten me.

  The van that was legitimately the color of shit could not be missed. Neither would a man in a fedora, but I didn’t see him anywhere.

  There were, however, three men oblivious to their surroundings inside the mechanical part of the tire shop. Not one of them took notice of us crossing the street.

  “Where’s Buddy?” I asked quietly.

  “He went inside about four minutes ago.”

  “But I thought…” I let the sentence trail off, choosing to focus on something more important than him screwing with my head. “You go get him then; I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “That sounds ass backwards, don’t you think?”

  “No. I’ll have the three of them handled before you so much as breathe on the other one.”

  “Is that a challenge?” he questioned, a hint of competitiveness already broaching his tone.

  “It can be,” I retorted, pulling my hand free from his.

  “All right then, bet.”

  “Really?” I would have thought he’d be far more objective, maybe a bit more protective. It bothered me that I wanted him to be.

  “Why not? It gives me a chance to rescue the damsel in distress when she pleads for her life.”

  I scoffed. Damsel? Not me, not ever. Distressing, on the other hand? I distressed with every breath that rattled through my chest and pushed against ribs that had turned to stone. Damsel, though? No. I always had my shit handled.

  The only thing he’d find when he returned were the corpses I’d claimed as my own.

  “Keep talking shit, Malik” I quipped.

  He laughed beneath his breaths and veered towards the entrance of the shop. I watched him saunter across the remainder of the parking lot, flipping him off when he taunted me one last time with a, “Try not to get your ass kicked to bad before I get back, babygirl.”

  He disappeared inside and, like a switch flipping in my brain, I quickly mapped out how to deal with the three men in the garage. It was a simple process.

  I was going to kill them one by one and leave them to rot wherever they landed, cleaving their souls from their fragile human bodies.

  I would do it without emotional attachment, remorse, or guilt.

  There was nothing to it. Death hovered at my back like a shadow, dripped from my shoulders, and flowed through my veins. There were times when I fought it because I didn’t understand who I was yet.

  Then there were times like these when I accepted its calming embrace, trusting some deeper part of me that knew exactly what she was doing.

  I reached down and stealthily removed my karambit scythe from its sheath. There was no point in wasting the Glock’s ammunition and drawing attention when it wasn’t necessary. Death never needed to be dramatic, only efficient.

  The first to go was the grease-monkey just inside the garage’s entry.

  He was still shoveling a sandwich into his gob.

  I engaged the curved blade, admiring its metallic rainbow colors beautifully glinting in the sunlight. From the corner of my eye, I saw a black blur fly overhead, and I smiled.

  As a soft caw rang out, my scythe met with man’s flesh. The blad
e slid easily across his neck, making a clean split. He choked on the bite of sandwich he’d just swallowed, a loud croaking sound coming from his flailing mouth as greasy fingers reached for the throat now gushing red.

  I shoved him out of my way, causing his legs to slam into a large toolbox and buckle. Before the man working beneath a rusted piece of crap had a chance to slide from beneath it, I easily dislodged the prehistoric jack, bringing the hunk of metal down on top of him.

  I wasn’t going to intervene with his departure any more than that. He would die from suffocation or his lungs would be pierced by broken ribs, and then he’d drown in his own blood.

  There was a crash from inside I paid scarce attention to, solely focusing on my third charge, who was now well aware I was there.

  With one of his companions still twitching on the ground and the other now screaming beneath the crushing weight of a tire, he had to know things weren’t looking great for him.

  I could tell he was going to run before I had time to get around the car between us. His eyes were wide, sweat drenched his dingy plaid shirt, and his chest heaved. Wisely, he didn’t try to beg or plead; he simply bolted like I knew he would.

  I didn’t bother giving chase.

  As it turned out, I never needed to.

  The man hit the threshold of the garage and was met with a knife to his gut. A pained sound came from his throat as Maliki twisted his stiletto in further before roughly jerking it back out, giving the man a firm shove to the chest.

  He stumbled backward, clutching his rapidly reddening midsection, and I finished him off with a quick slit of the throat.

  With an accomplished smile, I swooped down and wiped my karambit clean on the man’s shirt. “What was it you were saying about damsels?”

  “Did I not just save your ass?” He gestured to the man in front of me. “And to be fair, I never once said you were a damsel.”

  “You are so full of shit,” I muttered.

  “Do you honestly think I would have sent you in somewhere you could get hurt?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “So….?”

  “So I knew you could handle this, Nyx. There was never a doubt in my mind about that.”