Wonder Woman: Warbringer Page 32
Jason didn’t turn angry. His face didn’t regain the cold control he’d shown so often. His voice was gentle when he said, “You were a story to me, too, you know. An Amazon. A legend come to life.” His smile was small, sweet, and something in her chest twisted at the words. “I sought you for so long, Diana. I dreamed of finding Themyscira, some remnant of a lost civilization that might yield a vital scrap of Amazon DNA. Instead, I found you.”
The ache in her chest became the cold press of something hard and unforgiving. So that was the truth of his desire, not for her, but for the power that might be gleaned from her.
“I can’t wait to meet the soldiers your blood will raise,” he said. “The secrets your genes will give up to me.”
She shifted into fighting stance. “Molon labe,” she said in the language of Jason’s ancestors. Come and take them.
“Oh, I will,” he said calmly. “I began building a serum from your DNA the first day we met. You left traces of your extraordinary bloodline all over my house. Hair. Skin cells. Who knows what treasures a supply of your blood will yield?”
“Never.”
“You’re as weak as your sisters, turning your back on greatness as they turned their backs on the mortal world.”
“Come closer and speak again of my sisters.”
“No, Diana. I have other plans for you.” He turned to the soldiers standing at attention beside the Humvee parked on the sand. From inside the vehicle, Diana heard harsh chittering, like a beetle clicking its wings, and then a wet, hungry sound like…like something smacking its lips. Jason’s eyes glittered as he gave the order. “Open the cage.”
“Stay behind me,” Diana commanded Nim and Theo, trying to keep her eyes on Alia and on the Humvee. There was a loud clatter as the vehicle seemed to rock on its mighty wheels, and the soldiers stepped forward, one with his gun raised to offer cover, the other with a long metal stick attached to some kind of collar. He threw open the rear doors. For a moment they were caught in shadow, and then they were backing into the sun, calling orders to the other soldiers as they dragged a huge shape from the depths of the Humvee.
“I call her Pinon,” said Jason. “The Drinker.” She had the head and torso of a woman, her breasts bare, her arms muscled, her red hair a ropy tangle. But her lower half was the segmented body of a glossy black scorpion, and a massive tail curled grotesquely behind her. “Part warrior, part arachnid, part parasite. She can drain an opponent’s blood in a matter of minutes, but she won’t digest it. Not until she needs it. Or in this case, I do.”
One of the soldiers used a hook to throw something at Pinon—a T-shirt emblazoned with “I NY.” Enjoy the best, prepare for the worst. He’d been planning this from the start. Pinon caught the shirt in one fist, breathed deeply of the scent, and cast it aside. Her vibrant green gaze fastened on Diana.
Jason signaled to a soldier, who tossed a sword at Theo’s feet in the shallows.
“Seems like a fair fight,” said Nim bitterly.
“Jason,” Alia pleaded. “Don’t do this.”
“You’ll grow stronger without these crutches to lean on, Al.”
“Jason—”
“Drain the Amazon,” he ordered. “Kill the others.”
His guards fell into formation, dragging Alia up the hill as she began to scream.
“Alia!” Diana cried, but Pinon skittered forward to block her path. The creature’s movements made her skin crawl. There was something unnatural in the creeping of her legs, the slither of that segmented body, but worse were her intelligent eyes.
“Find cover!” she yelled at Theo and Nim as she took her lasso in hand. But the remaining soldiers had fanned out in a half circle, cutting off their retreat and forming a kind of arena in the shallow waters of the river. They carried no guns, only swords and shields at the ready. Apparently, this was the kind of clean fight Jason thought the world needed.
Nim knelt to pick up the sword, but it looked almost as heavy as she was, and Theo took it from her, holding it awkwardly out before him, his narrow shoulders bunching with effort.
They crowded together, back to back, and edged deeper into the water, the river cold around Diana’s sandaled feet as she herded them toward a cluster of boulders that might provide cover. Pinon followed, her tail curling and uncurling behind her.
“On a scale of one to ‘we’re definitely going to die,’ where would you put this?”
“Shut up, Theo,” murmured Nim, her voice breathless with fear.
But they did not cower, did not weep. These people Jason discarded with such contempt, whom he could sentence to death with a few brief words, stood at her back, stubborn and courageous as they had always been.
Neutralize Pinon. Deal with the soldiers. Find a way, she told herself. Find a way to keep them safe.
Diana feinted left, and her hand shot out, hurtling the lasso at Pinon’s tail in a bright lash. Too slow. The creature dodged in a blur of speed, far faster than her leisurely approach had indicated. Pinon reared up, forelegs waving hideously. She ducked her chin, her smile small and close-lipped, almost coy. She launched herself forward.
“Get down!” Diana shouted, hoping Theo and Nim would comply. She swept the lasso out, hooked it over a boulder, snapped it tight, and swung the rock. Pinon tried to dart away, but the boulder caught the edge of her shoulder, knocking her backward with bone-shattering force.
The monster gave a high, mewling shriek, her tail lashing the air as she turned back to Diana. There was that intelligence again, a gaze that promised punishment.
“Get ready to run,” Diana instructed.
“Born ready,” said Theo.
Diana yanked the boulder back to her, swung it once to build momentum, then sent it barreling into two of the soldiers. She hooked it back, attacked with it again, the rock shooting forward like a missile, knocking two more of the men to the ground.
“Go!” she shouted. Nim and Theo scrambled to their feet, but the soldiers closed ranks quickly, blocking their escape and drawing the circle tighter.
Pinon was creeping forward, flexing her injured shoulder, tail twitching. Diana whipped the boulder toward her, and the creature slithered back onto the sand.
Diana tightened her grip on the rope and swung the boulder wide, launching it at the soldiers again, trying to make a way out. Two fell easily, but the next soldier braced himself and blocked the impact with his forearms. A chunk of the boulder flew free.
Heroes’ blood. No ordinary man could withstand a blow like that.
“Diana!” Theo cried.
Pinon had skittered closer. She was in striking distance.
Diana shook the boulder free, swinging the lasso in her hand.
Pinon lunged at Diana, but she had anticipated the movement. She cast the lasso over the creature’s head, yanking her forward and driving her foot into Pinon’s abdomen.
The monster squealed in pain, seizing the rope with her long white fingers, her tail snapping forward. It had a pincer at its tip, not a stinger, and Diana had the briefest second to wonder why before she dodged away, barely keeping hold of her end of the lasso, snapping it snugly around Pinon’s neck.
The creature thrashed, her eyes rolling backward. Diana did not want to know what truths the lasso had revealed to make the monster scream that way. Had Jason made her from nothing, a nightmare spawned in a lab? Or had she been an ordinary girl once, before she was transformed? Diana lowered her shoulders, trying to keep her grip on the lasso.
“Give me the sword, Theo!” she commanded.
“They’re coming!” he shouted. Diana glanced over her shoulder and saw the soldiers advancing.
Nim gripped a rock in each hand. “You want some of this?” she yelled.
“You look like a bunch of jocks at a costume party!” taunted Theo.
Were they out of their minds? No, just mortal.
Two soldiers shot forward with what should have been impossible speed.
“Run!” she cried. But Theo didn’t
run. He held up his sword.
Diana heard a clang as the soldier struck, and Theo stumbled beneath the force of his opponent’s blade. They were too unevenly matched.
She released the lasso and leapt toward the attacking soldier, slamming him backward. She turned in time to see the other soldier bring his sword down in a sweeping arc. Two more men were running at Nim.
“No!” she cried, but it was too late. The blade cut deeply into Theo’s side.
He fell to his knees, then slumped sideways into the water, the blood flowing from his body into the Eurotas in a billowing flood of red. No. Diana whirled frantically.
A soldier had lifted Nim off her feet and raised his sword to skewer her. But Nim swung one of her fists, the rock tucked into her hand, and cracked it hard against the side of his head. The soldier bobbled on his feet, and she struck his left temple with the second rock. He let go, and she fell on her backside in the river.
Diana seized Theo’s sword from the riverbed and sprinted toward Nim.
She heard a splash behind her and knew Pinon had freed herself of the lasso. Diana whirled, slashing out in rage. Her blade struck the creature’s side, slid along the plating of its exoskeleton. She swung again. From the corner of her eye, she caught a blur of movement, and suddenly she was on her back in the water. She gasped for air, felt something fasten around her ankle and yank her upward.
Diana dangled upside down in the air before Pinon. Now she knew what the pincer on the creature’s tail was for.
She heard a stream of high-pitched swearing. Nim. Diana twisted in Pinon’s grip and saw that one of the soldiers had grabbed Nim from behind. He was laughing, shaking his head in amusement as she struggled.
“Bubble, bubble, you asshole,” Nim said, and brought her head back. The soldier flinched as her skull connected with his face.
“Little bitch,” he growled.
His grip shifted, and Diana saw what he meant to do.
The sound was like a branch snapping. Nim’s body went limp. Diana screamed. The soldier tossed Nim aside and wiped his hands on his pants, as if he’d handled something unclean. Her small body floated faceup in the shallows, her head resting at an unnatural angle on her broken neck, her blank eyes open to the sky.
No, no, no.
Pinon gave Diana a shake, as if demanding her attention. The pincer dug into the flesh of her lower leg, but all Diana could think was They’re gone. I was supposed to protect them, and they’re gone. She should have taken the sword from Theo at the start. She should have kept Nim closer. She should have made them stay behind, somewhere safe, no matter the risk to her quest. A howl tore free from Diana’s chest, grief and rage quaking through her.
Pinon smiled that sweet, coy smile, as if the sound of Diana’s misery gave her pleasure. Her lips parted, and two hooklike barbs emerged. Before Diana could react, Pinon yanked her higher and latched her wet mouth to Diana’s throat, the barbs sinking deep into her flesh. She was made for this, Diana realized as Pinon’s lips sealed tightly over her skin and she felt her blood drawn in a rush from her body. She was engineered to bleed her victims, upside down, like pigs brought to slaughter.
Then there was only pain, the agony coming in waves as Pinon drank in great, pulling gulps. Diana could hear the click of every satisfied swallow, timed to the waning beat of her heart. She could feel her body trying to heal, her strength attempting to return, but Pinon was too fast and too efficient.
Diana thrashed weakly. In the distance, she could hear Alia’s screams, the whir of helicopter blades. She’d sworn to keep Alia from this very fate, but she had failed more terribly than she ever could have imagined. The Oracle had been right. Her mother. Tek. They’d all been right. She should never have ventured off Themyscira. She had never been a true Amazon, and now the world would pay for her pride.
“Protect them, Athena,” she gasped as the life drained from her body and her vision blurred. Mortal and immortal, weak and strong, deserving and undeserving. Protect them all. Protect Alia from the burden of her fate. Protect my mother and my sisters in the war to come.
She thought of Maeve’s freckles that seemed to float above her skin, of Rani’s gentle nature, of Thyra’s giddy laugh. Would they know when she was gone? Could they sense her pain now? She thought of her mother seated at the table in the palace beside Tek, turning to greet Diana as she raced up the stairs, opening her arms to welcome her home. What did you learn today, Pyxis? said Tek with a smile, and Diana felt no bitterness now, only the ache of knowing there would be nothing more. She heard the wet release of Pinon’s mouth.
Protect them, she prayed, and then she thought no more.
Alia thrashed in the arms of the soldiers dragging her along the road, past a line of armored trucks and Humvees.
“Jason, stop this,” she pleaded. “You can’t let them die. Not Nim, not Theo. They’re no threat to you. You can let Diana go home. Please. Jason—” She didn’t even know what she was saying anymore; it was just a series of entreaties, one more desperate than the last. She knew she was crying. Her voice was raw. Her arms ached where Jason’s soldiers had hold of her. Their fingers felt unnaturally strong, like steel prongs.
When they reached the back of one of the trucks, a soldier passed Jason a canteen full of water. He drank deeply, but when he offered it to her, she slapped it from his hands. The soldiers yanked her arms back tighter¸ and she snarled at them, kicking out with her legs as they lifted her off the ground. Jason sighed.
“Alia!” he barked. He set his hands on her shoulders. “Alia,” he said more gently. “Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
A sound that was half sob, half laugh ripped free of her throat. She stared at him. Her brother. Her protector. Her friend. His face so like hers that it was almost like looking into a mirror. “Jason,” she said quietly. “Please. I am begging you. Help them.”
He shook his head, and she saw true sorrow in his eyes. “I can’t, Al. A war is coming. People like Nim and Theo won’t survive it. This is a kindness.”
“Stop talking that way.”
“I’m sorry. This is how it has to be.”
The emotion that rose in her felt like something rupturing down her center, cracking her in two. Jason, who had read to her, who had let her cry herself to sleep curled into his side, who had walked to school with her every day for months because she’d been afraid to ride in a car after the accident. He couldn’t be doing this thing, this horrible thing.
“No, it doesn’t,” she said. Jason was the reasonable one, the steady one. She had to make him understand. “It doesn’t. We can undo this. We can make it right.”
“Alia, I know you don’t see it, but I know what’s right for both of us.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And I’m afraid it’s too late.”
Alia followed his gaze and retched, her mind rejecting the horror before her. Pinon, Jason had called her, the Drinker. She was emerging from the trees, being herded toward the open back of a Humvee. But she didn’t look as she had when his men had unleashed her by the river. Her body was bloated, the skin gray and distended; her swollen tail dragged on the ground behind her. Kill the others. Drain the Amazon.
Diana was dead. She was dead, and this thing was full of her blood.
“Have her disgorge and bring me the ampoules,” Jason commanded. “I want to start processing the data on the way to base.”
Two of the soldiers dragged Pinon into the back of the Humvee. Through its doors, she could see part of it had been converted to cages.
Another of Jason’s men said, “Will you be taking the helicopter to base, sir?”
Sir.
“No, I want the Seahawk keeping an eye on the surrounding territory and making sure we didn’t draw any unwanted attention. We’re safer on the ground, and we don’t have much time until the sun goes down. Set a fire once we’re a few miles out and make sure the bodies burn.”
How could he say these things? “You’re talking about burning our friends.”
“I will never forgive you, Jason. Never.”
Jason’s gaze was sad, but it didn’t falter. “You will, Alia. Because you’ll have no one else. You are the Warbringer, and when the sun sets, you will fulfill your destiny and pave the way for me to fulfill mine. One day, you’ll learn to forgive me. But if you don’t, I’ll find a way to live with that. It’s the price I’m willing to pay for a world transformed. That’s what heroes do.”
Now she did laugh, an ugly sound of serrated edges. “You were my hero. The wise one. The responsible one. But you’re the kind of guy Mom and Dad would have hated.”
“Dad would have understood.”
“This is really about him, isn’t it?” Alia said as the pieces shifted into place. “All that talk about generals and warfare, but this is about Dad. This is because you’re so desperate to be a Keralis instead of a Mayeux.”
“Be careful. Be cautious,” he sneered, mocking their mother’s warnings. “Is that how you want to live? Playing by their rules instead of making our own?”
“You are playing by their rules—choosing the strong over the weak, turning against the people who always had your back.”
“These are my people,” he said, spreading his hands wide. “Heroes. Winners.”
Alia shook her head. “You think you’re going to save the world and everyone’s going to finally thank you for it? You think all your new gun-toting friends are going to take your side when the battle is over? This isn’t going to change anything.”
“You don’t see it, Alia, but eventually you will.”
“Tell yourself what you want. You’re not a hero. You’re a little boy playing war.”
“That’s enough.”
“I’ll let you know when it’s enough,” she snapped.
His eyes narrowed. “You are a child, Alia. You’ve had the luxury of being a child because I kept the watch, because I made the hard choices. I can’t protect you forever.”
The pain inside her was a living thing, a wounded animal that strained at its leash.