Page 131 of Echoes of War

Once that shield went down, the only thing left between them and the inside of The Compound was Alexiares and the soldiers right outside our walls. That couldn’t happen. There were not enough soldiers there to hold the line until sundown. We needed to reposition out in the field.

A rough hand firmly grasped my wrist, Seth pulled me back, though I hadn’t realized I’d set off running. “We’re not done here. You reject this deal, you all die. There won’t be another.”

“We’re already dead; you pulled that trigger when you left. Oh, and Seth?” I asked sweetly, batting my eyelashes. “If you don’t come back here after telling your father to back the fuck off, I will hunt you down. There will be no place you can hide, nowhere torun, no scenario where I don’t find you. And when I’m done with you, the way youslaughteredPrescott will seem like a mercy kill.”

Alexiares

Igrew impatient, pacing as I watched the battlefield beyond the wall. Thanks to Riley’s order of enhancements, we could see them, but the enemy couldn’t see us. My girl was out there somewhere, fighting, her life at risk, and I was stuck here, seeing if our stronghold would be dense enough to prevent Seth and his fucktard friends from getting through.

Lying in wait after the fall of our final outer shield made me feel fucking useless. Patience had never been my virtue, no matter how my old man had tried to knock it into me. It appeared we weren’t the only one with surprises on deck. Rocks crumbled, earth moving on the side of the cliff, stole prized attention from the battlefield. Pansies trampled over each other, crawling over the cliffside with one target in sight.

Us.

The soldiers placed to guard the wall stumbled, losing their footing at the screeching, rotting creatures surging at them. They spread out, my command not needed when it came to preventing friendly fire. There wasn’t anything about this in Amaia’s playbook. I wasn’t a stranger to being in charge. My father had tried to raise me in his image, hoping one day I’d change my mind and take over the ‘family business.’

Calling the shots tosavelives, however, was never on my radar. I’d been prepared to call the shots when x led to y in order to result in z. Figuring out how to control chaos for some reason had not occurred to me as part of the job. I had zero idea how Amaia would handle this situation.

A new found respect for my girl formed in my heart at her ability to think on the fly. If I didn’t know what her next move would be, thinking like her would have to do.

“Watch towers!” I yelled out, my voice coming from the depths of my chest, the hollowed-out portion of the wall amplifying my voice sixty feet up. “Be ready to drop acid on my call. Aim at your twelve and three. Out in the field, hoods up, masks on and retreat, you’ve got ninety till launch. Archers, hold.”

I waited, scoping out the scene, waiting for the perfect moment. Dropping the acid bombs too early could cause loss on our side and minimal to theirs. The key would be getting enough Pansies to get their footing on the cliffside to make them worth it. Reinforced vinyl lined Monterey’s uniforms designed to keep the harsh chemicals off their skin. Their masks would take care of their airway and face … from a certain distance. Anything else unfortunate to touch the same air would disintegrate, a highly corrosive acid eating away. Even the dead.

The archers could take out the rest. With the field soldiers on retreat, they could regroup once the assault was over.

Hope and war would never go in the same sentence. The words were like oil and water.

Our soldiers reserved their magic, not wanting to waste it in case a real fight ensued. They fired their guns. Pansies moved in a blur, sprinting toward them at neck-breaking speeds. I had a feeling this batch had been specifically curated for this cause. Their movements no longer had that off-kilter lull. They were precise, unfettered, deadly.

The Pansies ran, arms swinging through the air, yearning for a piece of flesh to pull into their flapping jaws. All of them, with the exception of a few, wereSupras. We’d barely seen any in Covert ranks on our way back home.

There had been several times when we’d been forced to stop and let their troops pass, or sneak past a few here and there. It allowed us to see what they were working without having to sneak into their camps or their occupied cities.

Suprashad nearly been nonexistent because Ronan took it upon himself to create his own super soldiers. Chills went down my spine. Was Seth not creeped the fuck out over this? I mean, not that you should always protect your own, but fuck.

“Acid showers in three … two …” I paused, waiting for that final, slowing leap over. “Drop ‘em.”

The grenades went off. It wasn’t a large bang. One moment over a hundred Pansies lunged, lurking along the cliffside, now maybe twenty remained. The acid grenades disintegrated them on the spot. Those who survived slowed their approach over the cliff to only a few at a time.

My kinda numbers.

“Archers draw … aim … fire.” My arm dropped with my command. Being in charge was kinda fun.

Things had quieted out on the battlefield, which was never a good fucking thing this early. I turned my head, straining my eyes, the weight of a lingering threat over taking me. Amaia and the others were still nowhere to be found. They were either dead, injured, or the fight was still ongoing to where my eyes could nolonger see. I chose to believe the latter for my own sanity and the sake of everyone, both inside and outside these walls. There was no telling the monster I’d become if something happened to her. If they thought I was a bloodhound now, they’d soon meet the devil.

Movement caught my eye from behind. A soldier dashed toward me, panic on his face. He skidded to a halt, crashing into me like he’d forgotten I was the one he was looking for. I glared down my nose at him, nose pinching at the fact that he was still body to body with me, invading my personal space.

He jumped back at my glare. “Lietenan-officer … er. Sir,” the soldier stuttered.

It was obvious why he was on messenger duty. “Alexiares is fine. What is it?”

I actually wasn’t sure what the hell I was or what my role was here. To be determined at a future date, I guess. It had to be weird for these guys to go from treating me as a prisoner to listening to my command. No one had protested. I had found that odd, but it appeared no one questioned Amaia’s word. When she spoke, they listened, no questions asked, though she’d given them ample opportunity to.

It was more than just the fear from their situation. They respected her decisions, the sacrifices she’d made. They felt a duty to listen to her and it was admirable as fuck.

“They hit South Gate hard, it held. It’s holding still, I think.”

“You think?” My brow arched. That was a pretty big thing to be unsure of.

---