Ruin and Revival

Chapter 66: Freed

ARIKA

The palace is so much bleaker than I recall, the coziness of the beautifully embroidered rugs, the warm faces of the maids, the breathtaking photos of the wonders of nature on the wall, it is all gone. Instead, replacing it all is an icy emptiness, the only decoration the flag of the Rising Star. A stony-faced man lining each hallway every five feet. I crouch silently behind a thick marble pillar, pressing my back into the cool stone until I became it, praying Axel would uphold his part of the plan and bring the men he promised me, even if it meant having to see Cole again.

Just have to get to the stairs. I eye the narrow opening a mere ten feet away, an opening that would lead me to redemption, to the woman who had stolen so much from all of us. Except getting to that staircase meant silently dispatching the two guards at virtually the exact same time without creating any noise. I tighten my grip on my throwing darts, envisioning the targets their tips would soon embed into. Inhale and aim. Exhale and release. Never forget, it is about the rhythm, not the speed. The first dart finds the neck of the guard on the right. He doesn't react, just collapses thirty seconds later. Good. For once, I'm glad they are nothing but mute puppets.

I begin my mad dash for the opening, aiming for the other man, hoping desperately he won't open his mouth before he is knocked unconscious. He simply falls like his companion. Not half bad. I smirk, patting myself on the back, wishing someone else would congratulate me. It's not over yet.

Flight after flight I climb, letting my padded boots hitting the ground as softly as possible. I flex my fingers in my gravity gloves, sucking in one final breath before charging the wooden door into the room's Axel and I had spent some of the best days of our insane lives. My heart tightens, wondering if those summer nights would ever become a reality again.

Darts fly from my hand, finding their appropriate targets before anyone could react. Five men go down, my hands already reaching for another. I skid to screeching halt as my eyes meet with onyx ones.

She sits on a hand-crafted throne, a beautiful devil. Her raven black hair fell in waves of twilight, her eyes deep set and sinister. No crown sat on her head, the upward of her chin was all she needed to convey her authority. She adorns a skin-tight, sleek, leather jumpsuit that shines in the dim light of the sunrise outside. My own black jumpsuit is slick with sweat under me, the once skin tight cotton polyester material now loose and baggy. The first thing I do when I'm done here is to get myself one of those.

"Frieda." Somehow no fear resonates from my voice as I take on my favorite combat stance, gloves up, knees bent, and a smirk plastered on my face. She stands, holding up her hand, causing the remaining three men to retreat. I observe in amazement as the men near me step back as if some invisible force commanded them to.

My eyes widen in disbelief when I see Cole in a rigid stance beside Frieda's shadowy throne.

"Ah, Arika. What perfect timing, I was just getting bored." She steps down the steps of her platform leisurely as if she enjoyed wasting my time, making me wait like a whore. My mouth twitches in irritation. I scan the room for a source of water to control. I will not control blood , it is always the last resort. I remind myself.

"Did you come by yourself? A shame really, I would have enjoyed the company of two fine men tonight." Frieda runs her gloved hands through Cole's hair, planting a deliberate kiss on his neck as we glare each other down. I bite back my revulsion, wanting to scream at Cole to wake up. But he remains emotionless, as deadpan as a statue.

"Enough of these games Frieda. I came here to negotiate." I glance quickly down at my watch. Ten more minutes until Axel's arrival. Ten crucial minutes I have to buy.