Page 133 of Hostile Saint

Grey eyes raced down the line to see who was trying to get his attention. I stepped forward from the line. As soon as he saw me, I tapped my ear, then pointed to where we were headed. For more clarity, I put my hands at the top of my head, lingering, then had them make a shape of a hood down the sides of my face. I also tilted my head down to help him understand this impromptu charade; robed men were beyond the trees.

When I looked back up, Lynx’s veins pulsed against the skin of his neck and forehead. The idea that he and his men were about to catch sick men exploiting children had him borderline manic. Barely able to contain his instant rage, Lynx whispered to Oz, then to Dagger.

Whispers were shared from one man to the next.

When Justice was informed, although she was still beautiful, she transformed to positively frightening as I watched her unsheathe her blade.

As the dark message traveled to more men, backpacks were taken from shoulders in preparation for battle. Inside each of the bikers, a fury lit bright, but the flashlights went black. Weapons were retrieved. No bikes were present, but these men still reacted with the fluidity of a wicked school of piranha, reading each other’s movements and responding perfectly as we prowled silently forward.

Blending in with their connection, my skin burned as silent rage grew amongst these men of worth. Abusers off in the distance were unaware of the shadowy wall of preying muscle. Skilled killers were on the hunt, with no intention of taking prisoners.

Once close enough that everyone had begun to hear the chanting and moans of their vile acts, backpacks were set on the ground and up against trees, so they could be easily found when needed. The glow of the huge fire started sparkling through the trees as if leading us toward our place of domination.

Once to the rim of the last layer of trees, before the opening, Hell presented itself.

It took my Stallion brothers a few seconds to comprehend the horrific sight. But not me. I had been one of the children. Cages were empty. The chase was already complete. Each child had already been drugged…

Facing the huge firepit, with the burning stake and a bloodied skull impaled on top, I viewed more men than I remembered from when I had been a victim of their crimes. All were robed, on their knees, praising a Lord who they believed offered them rich gifts in the shapes of innocent bodies.

As if trapped in a bubble and unable to move, I watched as one warrior blazed forward.

She was magnificent.

Her black hair blew in the wind, whipping behind her as if she was actually on her dragon. Her spinning wheels were now black leather boots, racing for her first revenge kill of the night. Like a fearless Viking, she stood behind the man closest to the woods with her blade in the air. She slammed it down on the crown of his spine with such aversion, I knew she was not only punishing this man, but the men she could only reach by killing another violator.

Justice had been served…

Justice leaned her head back and howled her pain, her victory, her desire for more blood, and a call to the wildest of the wild.

As each despicable man pulled back his hood to see where the cry was coming from, our wall of vengeful men charged forward, roaring of the death about to be delivered.

It wasn’t shocking that guns weren’t being used. Every avenger present wanted to feel the warmth of spilled blood as their blades cut through the flesh of evil. They wanted every ounce of satisfaction they could muster. A Stallion had fallen, and children were being sacrificed. There wasn’t enough retribution to be found at this point.

Especially when I saw one familiar face. Then another. And another…

As the robed men screamed, fought, and begged for their lives, four sets of eyes that I would never forget stared at me. By their evident shock, they never thought they would see me again.

Because of these four young men, this place, and the men being brutalized at my back, I had screamed in the night while I slept. I screamed for Lacey to run…

I was not sleeping now, nor was I lost in a nightmare.

I was found. I was empowered.

Lynx was correct. Lacey and I were not their only victims.

I looked at the dazed expressions on the children’s little faces. In a calm that made no sense at the time, I quietly said to the children, “Close your eyes.”

They did, curling into themselves, on their sides. Compassion ran through me. I, too, had once wanted to be small so that I would be forgotten and saved from more harm.

No longer did I want to be small. Now, I wanted to be a giant.

In a way, I was. I was Saint. My heart was huge. And my heart was… pissed.

I told the four terrors of my youth… “Ruuun.”

When none of them moved, not comprehending the insane state I was in, I, without delay or regret, rammed my blade into Jarod’s neck, right under his ear.

Why him first? He was within stabbing reach of me. And he wasn’t Damien. That brother was going to suffer the most.