Warden (Elemental Paladins Book 1) (26 page)

She felt her eyes widen in panic and shook her head vigorously, “Well he can’t have that … more … whatever!”

“Would it be so bad if he wanted something more permanent? Now that you’ve removed that giant stick from his butt, he’s probably thinking of the future for the first time in decades.” Cali pointed out.

Beyden nodded, “Uh huh. And it looks like he wants his future to include you.”

“Well, that’s just too damn bad for him! He can’t just decide he wants me when it’s convenient for him.” She pushed her nose in the air and continued snottily, “My life won’t be dictated by the whims of one man.”

“Ah, bring on the feminist.” Axel sure was digging himself a nice little hole, Max thought, scowling at the handsome trickster.

“Ignore the idiot in the room Max.” Darius advised, “And focus on one important fact.”

“And what’s that?”

“I think, for the first time in a long time, you can start thinking about your future too.”

Max swallowed convulsively and had to look away from all the shiny hope in the room. It was practically seeping from the paladin’s pores and their colourful little doppelgangers were all sparkly and pretty and shit.
Nope, nope, nope
. Max thought.
Not gonna happen
.

“He’s had his chance.” She said out loud.

“You only give people one chance?” Darius queried. “Seems a bit harsh.”

“Two.” She held up two fingers. “I give people
two
chances. Ryker’s already used up both of his.” She made sure her eyes were strict yet gentle at the same time as she cast them around the room. “You guys are only at one.”

“Shit, Ry! That stuff stings!” Lark’s deep accented voice mixed with Ryker’s rougher tones as it floated from the kitchen. Max clapped her hands and stood. “Lark, did you get my chocolate?” She yelled as she followed the sounds into the kitchen, thankful for the timely interruption. She frowned when she realised Ryker and Lark were at the sink with an open first aid kit. Rushing forward, she was brought up short when Lark turned around and she got a gander at his face.

“Oh my God, Lark! What happened to your face?” She rushed over, placing her hands carefully on his poor abused face. She could hear the others rushing in behind her and the multiple gasps of shock.

“Chades?” Darius immediately questioned.

“Nah. Nothing so interesting I’m afraid. Just a good old fashioned pub fight.” Lark responded trying to look shame-faced and failing miserably. Didn’t he know by now that she could see a lie?

Instead of calling him out on it, she reached for his hands and inspected his knuckles. “No bruises, no scrapes.” Max searched Lark’s face, “If this was nothing more than a pub brawl, why didn’t you fight back?”

“Just leave it Max. He’s a tough guy. He’ll be fine.” Axel said, surprising her with his lack of compassion. She glanced around and realised when she had been focused on Lark’s injuries, they had been doing their silent communication thing.

“Well? Why didn’t you fight back?” She asked again.

Ryker apparently felt the need to answer on Lark’s behalf, “Because it wasn’t against civilians; it was other paladins. He’s a soldier, don’t baby him Max.”

She didn’t understand, “So because they were paladins, you didn’t fight back?”

“A knight does not raise his sword against his fellow peers.” Lark’s response was stiff with male pride.

“So you just let them beat you?” She asked incredulously.

“Our weapons, our fists, our skills are only to be used to protect that which is sacred or those who are weaker … so, yes. I just let them beat me.”

“This is an honour thing?” She was trying to understand.

“Yes, it’s an honour thing. Lark acted nobly so as not to shame himself or his lineage.” Ryker explained.

“What about the arseholes who did this? Where’s their honour? Where’s their shame?” Okay, so she didn’t quite understand yet. She hated seeing his face mottled with marks.

“We can’t control the actions of others; only our own. I care nothing for their honour.” Lark stated, obviously considering the matter closed as he made his way slowly to the table and lowered himself carefully into a chair.

Max followed him. “Well, I care. Who did this?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shifted, obviously trying to arrange himself into a more comfortable position and quite pointedly refused to meet her gaze. She turned to the others and found them all in similar states of ocular avoidance. Why were they all being so evasive? She would have thought they would be chomping at the bit to gain retribution for their comrade. They were as close as family, Max knew, whether they admitted it or not. Something wasn’t adding up.

“You’re hiding something. What is it?”

“It’s nothing Max. Just let it go.” Cali was the one to respond.

“It’s not nothing! Look at Lark’s face! Someone hurt him!”

“I’m okay Max. I’m a fast healer, remember? It’s character building to get the snot beat out of you every once in a while.” His usual crooked smile was even more pronounced now given his newly split lip and Max winced in sympathy when it started to ooze fresh blood. She wasn’t buying it and found the whole situation entirely unacceptable.

“This is all completely unacceptable and I can’t believe you all would just …” And there it was; her very own
lightbulb
moment. “Was this because of me? Because you’re associated with me and I called out the wardens on their dickiness?”

“Max …” It was Darius who attempted to calm her this time.

“No. Tell me the truth. Are you hurt because of me?”

“He’s hurt because some paladins don’t deserve the title and are bigoted fuck wits. It’s not your fault any more than it was Lark’s. Leave it be Max. This will be dealt with in due course.” Ryker’s tone was all alpha and signalled the end of the discussion. Well, too bad for him she was an alpha too. She had also picked up on one key word;

“Bigoted? Ignatius’s paladins did this?”

“Max …” Darius tried again.

“Take me to them.” The four words were a clear demand but no one in the room moved. Max looked around the room, slowly and deliberately making eye contact with the seven warriors. “I said; Take. Me. To. Them.”

“Look Max, there’s really no need –” Lark started.

She crossed her arms over her chest and cast her eyes around the room again, “You may not have accepted me as your liege and your honour may not be mine to uphold officially. But you are my friends. Mine, mine, mine!” Max stomped her foot for emphasis, “And I take care of what’s mine. Now … where are they?”

Everyone looked at Ryker who was gazing steadily at Max. They all knew what it might mean if Ryker were to answer her. She felt warmth unfurling in her stomach when Ryker slowly nodded his head, “They are at Lonnie’s.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Lonnie’s could be found in the opposite direction from Dave’s Dive by about six degrees of cesspool-separation. Ryker’s feet didn’t stick to the floor as he walked across the room but the noise and the smell were very similar. He actually preferred Dave’s if he was honest. Sure, it was filled with human scum but Lonnie’s was filled with paladin scum and Ryker always thought that was far worse. He didn’t frequent such establishments often, he wasn’t a big drinker. But the others often came for the drink, the conversation and the companionship – as shitty as it was. Most of them tried to stay in the loop and heroically ignored the frequent jibes of ‘reject’, ‘loser’ and ‘stray’.

A hush descended as they walked
en masse
towards the pool tables where Ignatius’s five paladins were attempting to make the coloured balls go into the holes. They were predictably sucky at it. Max didn’t stop or slow or hesitate as her keen oceanic eyes locked onto the bastards like a predator onto prey. Her eyes swirled with colour and her hair lifted subtly as her power surged through her but she was in control, Ryker knew. And she was absolutely glorious, Ryker thought, utterly spellbound. She was magnificent, a warrior in her own right, a queen among peasants, a Goddess among ants. And the second he got her home? She was also going to be a well-fucked one. He was going to claim his stubborn warrior queen as surely as she had claimed them back in the kitchen. What was it she had said? Oh yeah,
mine, mine, mine
. It was precisely Ryker’s own thoughts and he intended to follow through as soon as humanly possible. He noticed a few startled looks as people focused on his now scar-free face.
That’s right, fuckers. Ryker’s back.

“Show me your hands.” The order was softly spoken but an order nonetheless and the five pieces of shit looked to each other before Marco, the Captain, replied to her;

“I’m sorry?”
Feigning ignorance won’t save you now
, Ryker thought. His woman was on the warpath.

Her smile was chilly and Ryker felt his balls shrivel from the frigid air that seemed to suck all warmth from the humid bar. “I said, show me your hands.”

And now they were starting to get it. Ryker could see the bobbing of Adam’s apples as they gulped and began to shift nervously on their feet. Max was a Warden and they could do no more than obey. They hadn’t thought anyone would defend Lark – a paladin who had never been bound to a warden because he had been deemed unfit. But one was, and very publicly.

“Hands. Now.” Max repeated.

All five held out their hands and Max walked forward slowly, making a show of examining skin and knuckles. It wasn’t necessary, everyone in the room could see the darkening bruises and scrapes. If not for the fact that this was Max’s little show and if his man Lark didn’t need the display of loyalty and kinship so desperately, Ryker would have lunged and broken some teeth. Max walked along the line of them slowly, almost lazily before stopping in front of Marco. His hands were by far the worst.

“Knights …” Max’s scathing voice lashed into the silence of the room. “You seem to have touched what’s mine … and I don’t like to share. I’m greedy like that.”

“We –”

Max held up a hand and arched an eyebrow, “Did I say you could talk?” Marco shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Because I don’t want to hear it. I’m not interested in anything you or your fellow haemorrhoids have to say. In fact, I don’t want to even look at you, because honestly? All I see are skid marks.”

Max continued on as if she couldn’t hear the shocked gasps and murmurs of disbelief in the room; “I just came to inform you all that if you ever desecrate my things again with your filthy, fetid hands I will use what is vital in me. I will wrap my powers around your scrawny chicken neck and squeeze until you bleed from every orifice. Your eyes … your ears … your mouth ... your arse! Even your
meatus.
” She leaned in close and although she whispered, everyone in the room heard her next question, “Do you know what your
meatus
is?”

The five paladins didn’t respond, probably too freaked out by the mild voice and the fact that she was calmly circling around them, eyeing them like specimens under a microscope. There was no anger, no rage. Just calm, just facts … it was freaky as fuck!

“Answer me boys. That wasn’t a rhetorical question.” Max spoke sweetly again, a serene smile lighting her face.

All five paladins appeared to gulp in unison and Marco replied with a stuttered, “N … No.”

Max eyed the speaker up and down, gaze finally resting on his crotch as a very unpleasant smile lit her face, “It’s the slit at the end of your dick.” The room seemed to inhale as one as Max continued, “Would you like me to squeeze your neck so hard that blood starts to leak from your dick slit?”

By this point two of the warriors had gone pale and passed out, Ryker figured they had probably forgotten to breathe. He noticed no one rushed to check on them. The entire room was enraptured in some kind of morbid awe at the display. The other three looked like they weren’t far behind their brethren; one was clearly hyperventilating, one looked like he was choking down vomit, and the last one, Marco, had a sickly grey pallor to his skin and was sweating profusely. He still had enough presence of mind to jump when Max leaned in close and ran a fingertip over his zipper, she smirked;

“Answer me,
boy
. That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

It was a true testament to a paladin’s will, that he managed to stutter out a garbled; “No, My Lady.” If Ryker wasn’t getting so much enjoyment seeing these jerks put in place for harming his brother, he would have felt a smidgeon of respect.

“Good. That’s good.” She patted the guy’s now well and truly – and probably forever – flaccid cock. “Because if I ever hear of you or any of your boys touching what is mine again, your dick slit will be the first hole I’m coming for.” She smoothed her small, seemingly harmless hands up Marco’s chest and proceeded to straighten his collar as he trembled and sweated and panted. Max smiled coolly one more time before turning on her heel and swaying her delicious hips toward the door, hypnotising everyone with a Y chromosome. As she was nearing the entrance however, she paused and spoke over her shoulder, always keeping her back to the room;

“Oh, and the same goes for your Warden. Do not think for one minute that I don’t know your warden put you up to this. If he has a problem with me, tell him to come to me. Not my kids. Because even though I’m sure the target is small – tiny even – I
will
eventually find his dick!”

****

Max suffered through yet another awkward silent car ride back to the camp. After sashaying her butt out of the pub, the paladins had followed her silently, no one speaking except for Ryker who had held open the car door with a growled, “Get in.” Now she was standing in the front yard and despite the twenty minute drive to calm down, was trembling with the need to storm back to Lonnie’s and follow through with her threat. She could totally do it, she knew she could. She wasn’t one to make idle promises. She
always
kept her word. One wrong move from those despicable entities and she would ensure none of them ejaculated ever again! Filthy, dishonourable cretins! She raged internally. She never could understand why some people had to hurt others in order to make themselves feel good. She just hoped the others wouldn’t be too mad at her. She had probably embarrassed them once again. She figured there was only a very tiny chance that threatening paladins with permanent erectile dysfunction was actually permissible. Hearing the gang behind her, she opened her mouth to fake an apology – she wasn’t sorry at all – but before she could get a word out, she felt herself lifted off the ground and surrounded by a pair of strong, muscular arms. Not a bad place to be all-in-all. That was until she felt wetness splashing against her neck. Lark was crying. Her poor, happy paladin of the earth was emitting waves of gratefulness and disbelief and she knew no one, present company excluded, had ever gone in to bat for him before.