29. Hellena

29

HELLENA

“ H ang on!” Alaya growls, slamming the wheel back the opposite way and sending us skidding around another corner at breakneck speed.

It’s a fucking wonder we haven’t rolled.

“OW!” Tell yelps, thumping his head on the ceiling again as he’s tossed around in the back. With Ora smooshed between Gavin and me in the back seat, the car is a little over capacity.

“Hey, giraffe, they still on my ass?” She cackles, slamming on the gas pedal again.

Before he can answer, an armored Humvee barrels out of the woods behind us, but it takes the corner wrong, tumbling several times and plummeting over the edge of the slope.

“Yes!”

Several more minutes zip by before I can let out the breath I’ve been holding. It doesn’t seem like we’ve been followed.

Still, it doesn’t surprise me that she takes a roundabout route back to our base, Evan chiming in here and there on where to turn, checking to spot any signs that we’ve been tailed. It takes much longer than it normally would, but it’s worth it.

In the meantime, I’m content with my single job of holding Ora.

She’s been in and out of fitful sleep the entire ride.

And hasn’t said a word.

Not that I would expect her to, given the situation, but it’s so horrifically out of character and unsettling to be around her and not be verbally assaulted.

Pulling onto our street, she finally sits up, wiping her eyes. “I need to get to the rendezvous point.”

“Not tonight, you don’t,” Gavin rumbles softly. “I called it in over the shortwave. They know you’re with us.”

“And you’re absolutely staying with us tonight,” I assure her, pulling her closer again.

The flicker of a sad smile that curls her lip is heartbreaking, but it loosens the knot in my chest just a hair. My biggest worry was that she might shut down.

Not that anyone would blame her.

“Thank you. All of you. It means the world that you came to help us.”

“No thanks necessary. That’s what friends do,” Tell chirps from behind us.

“That’s what family does,” I correct, smiling as Tell and Gavin both squeeze my shoulders. I hardly noticed that they both had a hand on me this whole time. Evan, on the other, hand simply looks back over his shoulder at me from the front and nods once.

It’s enough to know he’s right there, never more than a few feet from me.

At the house, we pile out, fatigue and a whole lot of soreness slowing every one of us down. Groans and moans follow our miserable train to the front door.

Alaya is the first in, making a beeline for the bathroom when I snag her jacket, jerking her back and forcing her down onto one of the plush armchairs with a firm grip. “Nope. Ora showers first.”

“Agreed. But can I come too?” She beams, biting her lip and winking at Ora.

For a second we all freeze, uncertain of how the tease will play in Ora’s state.

The tiny woman just stares ahead for a moment before she blinks slowly, turning her head like she’s never been more bored in her life. Her eyes trail down Alaya’s entire body from head to toe and back up.

And then I see the old Ora peek through, her hip cocking slightly, her lips pursing.

“Hmm. Not bad. I’d hit it. But not tonight.”

“Oh!” Alaya gasps, looking a little stunned and definitely pleased with herself.

With a shake of my head, I take my best friend into one of the rooms, prepping the bath while she undresses. It’s a little awkward, not knowing what to do for her, but I want to be here.

If she wants me to.

Laying out a fresh towel, I pause in the doorway, waiting to see if she’s going to get off her spot on the edge of the bed.

“I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

She nods once.

Then she bolts across the room and into my arms. This time, there’s only silent tears as I hold her close for several minutes.

When she pulls back, she sniffles, smiling up at me sadly.

“Thanks, Hell. I need a few minutes to myself, now.”

“You got it, Ora.”

Out in the living room, the gang is scattered, Tell sprawled on a couch, Evan pacing in the office door, and Gavin leaning on the bartop, his hands folded as he stares down at nothing.

Alaya’s the only one who seems relatively normal, unfazed by what we just did.

I suppose it’s fair not to judge her for it. She didn’t know Clive or anyone else at the Block or Devonde’s.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I start, unsure of what else to say.

“I know.”

“But you did.”

“Dicks to diamonds, Hellena, are you trying to thank me?”

“Not a fucking chance.” I smirk. “But you are welcome to stick around. At least for the night.”

“I promise I’m house trained.”

“Like a feral cat’s housetrained,” Gavin mutters, his lip curling in a mean half-smile.

Alaya hisses at him, but I step right up into her face, clapping my hands. “Don’t make me get the spray bottle.”

Alaya’s eyes go wide at my proximity to her space, my squared shoulders. “You threatening me, Michaels?”

“Nope. Just letting you know what the rules are. I can tolerate obnoxious bullshit, but no more flirting with Gavin. He’s spoken for.”

She inhales like she’s about to snap back but stops short. “Fair. Sorry for stepping on your toes.”

“You didn’t. I just don’t want you to keep making an ass of yourself.” I grin with honeyed sweetness. “Oh, and there’s like six showers, so you really didn’t have to wait.”

Alaya’s mouth drops open slightly.

“This one.” Alaya points at me as she saunters toward the hallway, giving Gavin an appraising look. “She’s a fucking lioness. Don’t fuck it up, Gatling.”

“Go shower, Foxglove. You stink,” Gavin grunts.

“Ostrich!” Tell shouts, suddenly sitting up, glaring after her. “That’s you! If I’m a giraffe, you’re an ostrich!”

This is going to be… interesting.

An hour later, I’m drying my hair and stepping out of the shower when I hear the thump-thump of a beat, laughter. Clinking glassware.

The hell?

Throwing on a robe, I head out onto the landing, loud music washing over me as I lean over the railing. Below me, the sight is snort-laugh worthy.

Ora and Alaya are dancing, holding glasses of wine. Gavin’s cooking up a storm, and Evan is setting the lights while Tell DJ’s, setting up his playlist on his laptop through the sound system.

“What is going on?”

“Get dressed! Or don’t. Either way, we’re having a celebration!” Ora’s halfway back to herself as she hollers up at me, raising her glass.

Evan bounds up the stairs, actually smiling at me. It’s more beautiful than anything I’ve seen today. Especially because he does it so infrequently.

“We all thought you deserved a little… merriment. And Ora needed cheering up. Gavin and I thought it would be a great way to celebrate a win, and her grandfather’s life.”

“That’s perfect . Thank you, Ev.” I pull him into me, pressing my barely covered chest to his, inhaling him before beckoning him into a deep, full kiss.

I’ve had far too few of those lately.

After barely extricating myself from Evan’s arms, I throw on some comfy pants and a shirt and join my friends downstairs.

The mood is a little strained at first, but I know this is exactly what we need. So I lean into it, help Gavin with filling wine glasses, drinking a few myself, and dancing with Evan, Tell, and Ora.

Alaya keeps her distance, surprisingly behaving herself.

Food. Drinks. Friends. Distractions.

Gavin’s cooking is practically gourmet, even if he shrugs it off like he just threw it together. I swear, Evan’s expensive taste in ingredients has rubbed off on him.

I sample a bit here and there, letting Tell pull me along after him.

“You’ve been playing hostess long enough. Let loose…”

I arch into him, rolling my hips. It feels tremendous to stretch my dance muscles, and better in a casual setting without any stakes. Even if Evan watches with half-lidded eyes from his spot at the bar, egging me on with his gaze.

Soon . I promise him with a wag of my eyebrows.

For now, I writhe in Tell's orbit, letting him spin me, moving naturally with the flow of the music. The words of the song play on my lips as Tell’s play along the side of my neck, sending goosebumps down my arms.

“You just can’t help torturing me like that, huh?” I mutter into his ear.

“You haven’t seen torture. And we haven’t had round two of what we started back at the safe house.”

The insinuation makes my toes curl. “We are overdue for another training session…”

His answering grin is all I need to know that I have something to look forward to later. Closing my eyes, I drift back into the music and the feel of his hands on my waist.

Ora joins us, resting her hands on my shoulders and swaying along in front of me.

The mood is right on point to have us coming out of our shells, letting some of the disastrous events of the last day fade for a few hours. Soon, we’re all winding down, sitting around the table and chatting.

Inevitably, our situation comes up, but we’ve had time to process. Some.

“You know? I don’t think I’ve told all of you how happy I am that you’re here, that I’m here…” Ora slurs, grinning across the table at me. “Nobody I’d rather spend the end of the world with, for sure!”

“Cheers!” Alaya chuckles, raising her glass from the couch.

“You think Devonde really has some ultimate-destruction plan in place?” Tell finally brings up after a piecemeal recap of all of our days.

“I don’t know. He seemed pretty serious. Hellbent, even. Totally out of his mind, too. But what could it be?” I shrug, sipping my chardonnay.

Gavin sighs, shaking his head. “The guy was a megalomaniac. I could see him making up some nonsense to keep us guessing. But he’s also vindictive from everything I’ve ever seen. If Marco crossed him, he would want to retaliate.”

“There’s just no way for us to know,” Evan murmurs, lost in thought. “I’ll put out feelers tomorrow just in case, see if anything flags on surveillance.”

Evan has been monitoring Tell’s network while he’s out in the field with his army of street kid informants. They’ve been an unbelievable source of reliable info.

“I already sent a message to Clarence and a few others to keep an eye out for anything strange.”

“Things have really gone full on to shit, haven’t they?” Ora puffs, stretching out her arms ahead of her and resting her chin on the table.

“Total shit.”

“Complete dumpster fire.”

“Absolute crap shoot!”

The antics dwindle down into terrible jokes, laughter, and jabs at one another. Mixed throughout are compliments, too. The way Evan took down one of Marco’s men with an aerial spin kick.

The way Alaya never missed a shot.

Tell narrowly ducking a knife throw and Gavin’s stone cold stare that sent two soldiers flat out running.

“I thought that guy was going to piss his pants.” Ora wipes a tear from her eye. “But seriously, I hope Grandaddy made them pay.”

“He was incredibly brave.” Gavin nodded.

“Damn right, he was. Hell… did he say anything? At the end?”

I take a deep breath before I tell her. Even though I knew this was coming, it’s impossibly difficult.

But I do.

I relay every detail of Clive’s and my exchange, and when I’m done, everyone in the house is silent. Stunned.

“He was Ardor…” Tell wonders, rubbing his chin.

“And the very last of the Sinful that we know of.”

“Aside from whoever was sending us messages,” Evan muses. “Although, it’s not impossible that some of it was automated, left over from before they all got taken out by…”

He points a thumb over his shoulder toward Alaya accusingly. It’s a topic we mostly avoid since we’re seemingly stuck with her for the time being.

“No way to know for sure.” Tell shrugs.

“What we do know is that with my grandfather gone, we are the only ones left leading the charge against Marco.” Ora sobers, her brow furrowing. “We’re all that’s left between the people of Sanctum and that madman.”

“Sinful, the next generation,” Gavin huffs sarcastically.

I look around the table, absently taking count. “Six out of seven isn’t bad…”

“Whoa…” Tell laughs, patting the air with his palms. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“No! Yes? I don’t know,” I fumble, trying to organize my wine-addled thoughts. “People need to believe someone is looking out for them. Enough of the town knows something about the Sinful. Even just legends. So, why not?”

“It’s iconic. Symbolic. And it might even give us an edge against Marco if he thinks the real leadership has come out of hiding to fight back.”

“Like sending up the Bat Signal!” Ora cheers.

“Maybe not that far. But we can use it, the anonymity and mystery.” I can see the gears turning in Gavin’s strategic mind.

“Yeah, and unlike the old guys, we actually trust each other!” Alaya joins us at the table.

All five of us stare blankly at her for a moment before she scowls.

“Alright, most of us.”

This could work.

“Now all we need is an army to fight Marco.”

The thought looms over us for a time. The people of Sanctum could fight back. But I can’t bring myself to suggest it. To ask average folks to make that sacrifice…

“What could we do with a shit ton of money?” Evan finally offers, folding his hands behind his head and looking at Gavin, Alaya.

“We could hire mercenaries. Build our own army for hire.”

“You know people?”

Alaya nods, looking thoughtful. “Definitely. A lot of them are out of the game, but I bet between the two of us, we’re owed more than a few favors.”

“Hmm.” Evan grunts softly. “And I know hundreds of people in food service. Supply chains.”

“As well as every hidden route in and out of Sanctum…” Tell adds, gaining momentum. “We could sneak in the supplies we need.”

“And strangle Marco’s supply chain. Cut him off.”

“But we would need that money you mentioned.” I sigh, feeling defeated.

Ora perks up. “I have money. Grandad and the Block have a huge nest egg.”

Evan gives me a look before smiling. “And remember those account numbers in your dad’s journal?”

“No way…”

“Yes. Not all of them were traces for other Sinful. A few still have funds. A lot of funds.”

“Now we're talking!” Tell slaps the table.

“This is starting to sound a lot like a plan.” I feel hope building, growing.

“Yeah, it is! But plan or no plan, I am buzzed and I am tired.” Ora stretches, yawning.

The rest of us catch the bug, fighting and losing.

“Bedtime,” I grumble, hugging Ora and leaving her to head to one of the guestrooms. I’m all hosted out for the night. Heading toward the stairs, I don’t bother waiting for anyone to join me as Gavin and the boys clatter around cleaning up.

I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.

Some time later, I try to roll over and find that I can’t.

My brain’s fuzzy. Drowsy.

It takes me a few seconds to process the fact that my hands are tied, my ankles, too. And the silk tie over my mouth has me instantly taking a gasping breath of nervousness and arousal.

Opening my eyes, I’m startled to find that I’m not in my room, but I recognize the walls in the dim lighting.

“Good. You’re awake.”

Tell’s voice is low, whispery.

“Now, you are going to do exactly what I say or you are going to be very, very sorry.”