Page 56 of Unleash Hades
I wanted to cry, and laugh, and scream, all at the same time.
This was a warmer reception than I deserved, and I knew, deep down, who I could thank. Hugo. It was all Hugo. My guardian, my hero, my sweet, sweet Legionnaire.
“When do you fly in?”
I looked at my watch - an electric thing that I had bought in some bazaar. “Maybe ten hours?”
“So soon!” Her voice got fast. “We will come meet you.”
“We?” I asked, sitting up. Lucien had said she had a son. Would I also get to meet my new nephew?
“Me and Asa.” Then I heard that warmth in her voice. The smile that hadn’t changed since she was a little girl. Since she was the gift I received before Christmas - the sister I always wanted. “He’s used to seeing you on television. He’d like to meet you too.”
Chapter 18
Hugo
Strathlachlan, Scotland
“Hands up,” Rose said,her red gloves in my line of sight. “Your goal is survival.”
I had another fight, this time against opponent Harrison Guile, some guy they called Superman. Captain America would have been better, but I think that moniker was taken by another fighter already.
She jabbed at me, and I dodged. I countered with my own punch, but despite her having whelped two children not that long ago, she moved with the swiftness of a kangaroo. She dodged. I tried to swing again, but hit nothing but air.
“You move faster than the She-Bear,” I commented with admiration.
Rose smiled, dancing a circle around me.
“That must be why you are a champion,” I almost laughed.
“Nah,” she said, as she tried to dip down to a knee to lunge at my waist. I dodged, and we came up and separated. “That was Ajax, actually.”
Ajax was her last coach, and now an indentured member of the Irish mob, having married one of its top soldiers. He still coached fighters, but not for the Underground.
“A coach does more than just train you to fight,” Rose said, as I punched and she dodged. “They help you choose your matches and opponents. They lay down a strategy. Then…”
I grunted as she landed a blow at my sternum.
“They just unleash you like a dog of war,” she finished her thought.
The bell rang, ending our five-minute bout.
I had never, in my life, felt as out of shape as when I fought Rose. Where I lumbered like an ox, she moved like a whip. Her fistslanded small, powerful, precise hits. Energy efficient from the pivot of her foot, the turn of her knee to the swing of her hips, all the way to the long extension of her arm.
She was a very efficient machine.
We exited the boxing ring, and I grabbed my water, chugging it down in loud gulps. Pomegranate water. It reminded me of the sweetness of summer.
I heard Rose take a seat on the bench beside me, huffing a slow breath.
“I can hear your irritation from here,” I said between sips. “What’s on your mind, Champion Rose?”
I lay down on the cold concrete ground, and shut my eyes, letting the coolness seep into my hot skin.
I waited for her to respond, not prodding or prying. She’d tell me what she wanted me to know.
“I don’t think Alastair remembers who I was,” she said.
