Violet Path (16 page)

“Sor . . .” I cut myself off.

Maxime finished lacing up my armor. Everything was comfortable and seemed to fit well, but the chest armor was very big, bold, and bulky. It didn’t look as bad as it felt. Maxime slid his fingers under the strap of my armor and pulled on them to make sure that it fit well. It was snug.

“It looks good, but how does it feel?”

“Great,” I lied.

“Here’s a sweater that fits over the armor, because the armor doesn’t protect you from the cold winters,” he said as he handed me a black sweater. I pulled it over my head; it fit perfectly.

Maxime took one last glance at me, then helped me take the armor off. He said that my casual clothes were in my new black bag. I started to hand him his shirt and belt, but he blushed lightly and asked if I could leave them on his bed with his black bag. I nodded and watched him comb his slick hair.

As we walked back to The Shadows, I couldn’t stop thinking about Marc and his pretty, blonde fiancée crying at the cemetery. Her tears were like diamonds plummeting to the earth and shattering. They were precious tears shed for the one she loved. And then my mind spun with thoughts of David: his cold, black eyes, and how he always looked at me as if I’d done something terrible. But I realized he was probably just sad. Maybe I reminded him of all that he had lost, the love of his life, his Alice. Despite the warmth that Maxime provided as he walked beside me, I shivered in the cool, winter breeze.

Chapter 15

“The guys and I were planning on practicing as a group, and we were wondering if you were interested in joining us,” Nick said after breakfast. I was surprised that he had invited me and gladly joined the club. I got my staff and followed him.

Everyone in my group decided that they wanted to practice uneven teams and wanted me to give them some tips as I had more experience sparring with Maxime. They kept asking questions as though I was a virtuoso, but I was afraid to give them the wrong information. I did my best to help them improve as I called out their mistakes. Timothy’s left foot was weak, and he didn’t trust it; Mike’s jumps were too open; the other Mike, George’s brother, had unstable landings; John’s attacks were extremely hesitant; and Nick’s faults were masked by his quick reactions. They asked if I would duel them, and I agreed, more than happy to move instead of sit and watch.

At first we did two-on-one, then three, then four, and then everyone jumped in for fun. It was impossible, but extremely entertaining.

Because I knew their weaknesses, I wasn’t losing too badly, but it wasn’t easy. Nick was the best out of the group and he knew it. He would attack when I was off guard or mix up the rhythm of the fight just to throw me off. The worst was when they would attack all at once and try to surround me. I was hit in the back a lot, but they weren’t trying to really hurt me, and I only received bruises instead of true injuries.

I was able to fight off three, but not all five at once. I wasn’t even close to winning, but we were all having fun. Nick was backing off a bit, but I was still having a hard time.

Someone tripped me from behind when I was facing all of my opponents in line. I looked up and saw David glaring at me. I quickly got to my feet.

“I see that you warmed up. Who lost? They have thirty push-ups to do,” David said in a strict voice.

“We were only having fun, sir,” Nick snapped back before anyone else could respond.

“Is fighting fun?” David asked.

“No, sir,” we all answered in unison.

“Loser, step forward,” David ordered mockingly, but with a straight face.

I was about to take a step out of the line, but Nick tried to defend me. “Sir, it was an unfair fight.”

“Are fights fair?”

“No, sir.”

“Thirty push-ups!”

I didn’t bother answering. I just got down and started counting. To my surprise, Nick got down with me and the whole group followed. When Nick had said that I was one of them, he had really meant it. I waited for everyone to finish before getting up. David barked out orders again. We were going to start where we had left off the previous class. I was paired up with Nick and Timothy. After the fights, no matter if we won or lost, we all did the push-ups. Class went by quickly, but David didn’t dismiss us right away.

“Who lost the fight before class?” he asked again.

“Why do you ask, sir? They did their push-ups,” answered Nick.

“So did the whole class! Shouldn’t they be ashamed of having taken their whole class down with them?” David’s tone was aggressive, and his eyes targeted me.

“They lost with honor, and the others won with humiliation.”

“If they lost with such honor, why don’t they step forward to receive recognition?” David spat.

“Honor is not something to receive recognition for. It’s not something to be revealed to everyone.”

“Are you saying that you lost, Nick?”

“I said nothing of the sort, sir.”

“But you are implying it.”

“How so, sir?”

“You are the only one answering, the only one defending yourself.”

“The others may not wish to speak, sir.”

“But you do, to defend your honor.”

“Maybe sir, and maybe not,” Nick said with a smile.

“So why doesn’t the loser defend himself?” David spat.

“Who said they weren’t, sir?”

“How are they?”

“Both silence and voice are defense, sir.”

“How so, Nick?”

“You need silence to understand voice, sir.” A malicious grin slid across Nick’s face, while David’s pupils became darts.

“And voice to understand silence?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then understand this: no one is dismissed until they finish one hundred push-ups in silence!” David yelled.

“Yes, sir!” we all answered. We did the push-ups in silence as David stood in front and counted. I finished first, but waited for Nick.

Nick and I left in silence. As soon as we were in the forest, away from David, I said, “Thanks.”

“No problem. It was fun, and David needs to learn how to drop a conversation,” Nick laughed.

“Still, you could have gotten into a lot of trouble.”

“But I didn’t, and we dragged you into all of it.”

“It was thirty push-ups!”

“Doing them only made us stronger. Come on, you’re like sixteen; we’ll look out for you.”

“Thanks, but you really fired him up.”

“Talking back is the only power we have over . . .” Nick stopped and pushed me against a tree, his hand firmly planted on my chest. I was confused as he looked around alarmed. I tried to take my mind off his hand on my chest, but he kept me still. After two minutes of pure silence and paranoia, he pulled his hand away.

“I’m sorry. I could have sworn that I heard someone loading a gun of some sort. I must be hearing things.” Nick smiled and started to walk toward camp.

A shot fired.

Nick fell.

My stomach twisted into a tight knot.

I crouched beside him as his abdomen gushed with blood. I looked around, my chest tightening with fear. Suddenly, I felt a stinging pain run down my back, and I screamed. I turned around and saw a short figure standing in front of me.

He was dressed in black and a bright, red cloth masked his face. His belt carried a gun, and he held two swords in his hands. He threw me a sword and I caught it, confused at what was happening. Then I realized that he was playing with his prey.

He came running toward me, and I blocked his sword from cutting my neck. I held the sword up, and his met mine. He leaned against it, trying to get me to give out so my sword would slice my throat, but I pushed him back and he hit the tree behind him. I knew the forest much better than he did and could use it to my advantage, so when he got up and tried to hit my side, I moved away and kicked him against another tree. I then kicked his sword out of his hands, elbowed his side, and kicked his jaw. He took out the gun. My heart raced. He shot once, and I hid behind a tree. I heard him walking toward me, but I couldn’t tell whether he was on my right or my left.

“Your right!” Nick screamed. I turned to my right and kicked the gun out of his hands. He tried to punch me, but I kicked him in the stomach. He reached for his sword and lunged toward me, but I quickly darted out of the way.

He picked up his gun again, aimed the barrel at my heart, and pulled the trigger. I ducked, the bullet just missing my shoulder. He shot again, and I dove behind a tree. I heard him on my left, so I jumped out and sliced at his right shoulder with my sword. He yelled in pain, his shoulder bleeding.

He paused for a moment, staring at me, as if he was deciding his next move. Then he ran off into the forest.

I rushed over to Nick. “Are you all right?” I asked.

“Ya, I’m fine. It barely hit me, but it hurts like hell.” Nick laughed lightly in between groans.

“Here, let me help you.”

My attacker had stabbed my shoulder, but Nick’s injury was much worse, and I had the S.S. Pill helping me regardless of my muscle fatigue and injuries. Besides, I always healed quickly. Blood poured out of Nick’s stomach, and he couldn’t move. I put my hand under his armpit and pulled him up. His hands and clothes were drenched in his blood, but it looked like the bullet grazed his side, not actually piercing his flesh. I pulled his weight onto mine and helped him limp back to The Shadows.

Nick groaned, growing weaker with every step. He finally fell unconscious, so I carried him in my arms. He wasn’t light, and it made it harder for me to walk, but I didn’t have a choice. It pulled at my shoulder and put stress on my joints like pricking weights. I could see The Shadows, so I yelled for someone to help me, but no one came. I passed the last tree and saw David teaching a class. He ran over and asked what had happened. I couldn’t waste time explaining; Nick needed help. He instructed one of his students to get Sam while he sent another student off to get a hover-board. Both men ran off without saying a word.

I slowly knelt down, carefully placing Nick on the ground. Sam finally arrived and started to examine the gunshot wound. He announced that the wound wasn’t deep and that Nick would be up and going in three days. A thin but worried smile appeared on everyone’s face.

Sam took Nick away on the hover-board. Maxime was racing toward me. “This better not be your blood,” he said. I tried to move, but he held my shoulders. His hand was putting pressure on my fresh cut and it hurt.

“No, it’s Nick’s,” I answered as I tried to mask the pain he was causing.

“What happened?” he asked as he led me to his cabin, still directing me by my shoulders. I told him about the guy in the forest with the red-clothed mask and how Nick had been shot, but he still stood behind me until his door had closed behind us. Finally, he took his hands off of me and spoke, “I’m sorry, but your shirt is ripped as well as your sweater and wound dressing.” I stood in the middle of the room, shivering, as he fumbled through some bags.

“I washed your clothes yesterday! I’ll have to find you something to wear, but for now, put this on. I’ll be right back.” He handed me a roll of wound dressing and left. I slowly pulled my sweater and shirt off as it tore at my shoulder.

I suddenly noticed that my shoulder had been bleeding a lot more than I had thought and the blood on my clothes wasn’t only Nick’s. I wiped most of it away, but it just kept bleeding. I knew that Maxime would lecture me on how to be careful, but I couldn’t stop the thick, red liquid from oozing out.

“Can I come in?” Maxime asked from the other side of the door.

“Hold on just a second,” I quickly answered as I hurried to wrap the new wound dressing around me. I ignored the blood and hoped that it wouldn’t seep through. I told him to come in. He quickly opened the door and shut it behind him, not letting any cold air in. I realized that I wasn’t wearing a shirt, but after having spent so much time with him, I didn’t care.

“Nick is conscious. He has the same story as you, only he’s almost certain that the guy came from Aramis and that you had been hurt as well. Are you?”

My heart sank; I couldn’t lie to him.“I’m fine. He just hit me a couple of times, that’s all,” I tried to brush the question away. He was as stubborn as his brother. Besides, I didn’t know where Aramis was and had never heard of it before.

“Alex, if you’re hurt, I need to know.” He sounded sincere as he looked deep into my eyes.

“I’m fine,” I repeated.

“Turn around,” he instructed.

“Why?” I was afraid that my cut had bled through the wound dressing.

“Because Nick said the Aramissian cut your back with a sword.”

“I’m fine!”

Maxime was frustrated and didn’t want to argue. He accosted me and turned me around.“Yesterday I told you to be careful! Alex, you need to tell me if you’re injured. I’ll take you to Megan.”

“No, it’s not serious. I just need to stop the bleeding.”

“Then take off your wound dressing and lay on my bed. If you’re not going to take care of yourself, at least let me.” Maxime sounded annoyed but caring as he walked out of the room.

I did as I was told. I slipped off my boots, lay on the bed facedown, and pulled the sheets up to my waist. I was cold and uncomfortable with my exposed breasts against Maxime’s bed. He knocked before entering.

He sat on the bed next to me, and I could hear him going through a bag, taking some things out, and putting them on his lap. I felt his warm hand rest on my skin, then the stinging pain as he touched my shoulder. His hands moved gently and fluidly along my back, and I closed my eyes.

“You’re lucky; it’s not deep and won’t leave a scar.” His voice was soft and melodic. “This might be cold,” he warned.

I felt him pour a cool liquid onto my back, and I shivered as it froze my skin and bit my cut. “It stings,” I murmured.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His hands gently palpated my cut with cotton. I felt him place the gauze on my back. It hurt as he taped the bandage to my shoulder, but I stayed silent.

“There,” his voice was calm. “I’ll have to change it tonight again. Try to be careful.”

Maxime rose, but I wanted him to stay. I wanted him to come back and lay down next to me, but I stopped dreaming and got up.