Chapter 3
Scarab's head throbbed. She felt the room sway around her, working with the incessant pounding to make her stomach turn. It took a few seconds for her to hear the sound of crunching beneath her, to realize that she wasn't in a room, but was moving in some sort of transport. She kept her eyes closed and slowed her breathing, old instincts kicking in. She could feel the metal beneath her face and she could clearly hear the crunching of the rocks and gravel they drove over. She was probably in the back over the tires. She took a careful sniff of the air, smelling the metal, some sort of petroleum, probably gasoline, and the tinny scent of blood. Hers. She knew it. That's why her head hurt.
Scarab kept her eyes closed and tried to think. She was in her house. Tenet had left to get something. Crinkle paper. Crinkle paper for Violet's snowflakes.
Violet!
Scarab's mind screamed at her to jump up and save her daughter, and only her years of careful training kept her from trying to do just that. She had to think. She had to remember what happened and try to piece together what kind of danger she was in. She forced her mind to pick through, to put the pieces together.
Scarab was in her house, stacking the bricks. Tenet came back. She called out to him to ask if he had also bought some more sugar since they were low and then... Then it wasn't Tenet. Then she heard a familiar chuckle before everything went black. The transport went over a bump and she bit her lip hard to keep from moaning as pain shot through her head and up her arm.
That chuckle was Jace. She knew it. She clearly remembered thinking that, and now she was awake in the back of a transport. He was probably driving. She moved her arm slightly, only to be stopped by something holding her back. Her arms were behind her back, clamped together with something strong. She tried to move her feet and almost cried out in frustration.
"They're electromagnetic cuffs, sweetheart," Jace's voice said.
Don't answer him, her mind ordered. She lay in silence, hoping he would buy that she had just moved in her sleep. Damn she was rusty!
"I know you're awake. Your stat monitor says your heart rate has increased and your thought patterns have stabilized."
Scarab's eyes flew open. For a second, the world swam in her unfocused gaze and she had to fight to keep from throwing up.
"Plus, I can see you." There was a small mechanical noise and suddenly a camera mounted on a moving metal arm was in front of her face. "Technology. I always told you it would win in the end."
Scarab stared coldly into the lens and let her mind process. Jace had her. She could not move. Not only that, she couldn't think without him knowing. He would see everything, hear everything, know everything as she did it. For the time being, she had to simply let herself be caught and bide her time.
"Not going to talk to me? Hm? Surely you have a few words to say to an old friend."
Yes, she most certainly did. But Scarab knew that her situation could become vastly more drastic if she allowed herself to actually say them. "What do you want, Jace?" she croaked through dry lips.
He laughed. The bastard actually laughed. "Well, nothing anymore. Just my payment, and that will come when I deliver you guys."
Scarab's heart began to thump even as she tried desperately to keep calm.
"Ah, I see by your heart readings that you've already put it together. Yes, I said 'you guys'. Very clever. You were always very clever."
Tenet or Violet? Oh please let it be Tenet, her mind begged.
"Now, here's the real question," Jace said, tipping his head while he casually steered the vehicle with one hand. "Which one is it, hm? Is it the pathetic man or the weak little girl? Which one do I have?"
Someone else in the vehicle scoffed. "Dear heavens you are a drama queen." It was a man's voice, one that prickled in the back of Scarab's memory. "I swear I cannot wait until these years of working with you are over!"
"Aw, now, Mr. B, surely I've earned a little bragging time."
Scarab schooled her features, hoping they didn't betray her rage. Mr. B. Tenet's father.
"Perhaps if it hadn't taken you six years to get the job done, then yes, I suppose I could stomach a little bragging," the older man snapped.
Scarab knew Jace would fume at that. Good. Fume. Get mad. She knew Jace well enough from their bounty hunting days to know that getting him angry would make him sloppy. She was enjoying the thought when the sound of her daughter crying iced her veins. Oh no. No!
"And there you two go waking the baby," the older man said with a sigh. "Hush, now."
"Grandfather?"
Scarab couldn't hold in her rage any longer. Something inside snapped and she pulled and tugged against her restraints with all her might. Jace began to laugh, Violet cried harder, and Tenet's father shouted for everyone to be quiet.
He leaned over the seat and Scarab got her first look at Tenet Bradwin Jr. in person. He was old. He was balding. He looked similar to her husband, but colder, meaner. He had ice blue eyes and the crease in his forehead said he rarely smiled. "You are upsetting my grandchild and most likely hurting yourself, hunter. Be still. Your thrashing is useless."
"Violet are you hurt?" Scarab called, staring the miserable man straight in the eye as she did so.
"Mumma! They won't let me see you."
"Are you hurt?" Scarab demanded again.
"No. But I can't move."
She wasn't hurt. Scarab felt one coil of fear relax. "Just sit there and be a good girl," she said. Though it killed her to tell her daughter to play along with these men, she knew it could be very bad if she didn't say the words. Scarab didn't know if they would actually hurt Violet, but she knew her own self was utterly expendable. They wouldn't hesitate to kill her and get rid of a problem that started six years ago. The only possible reason she could think of to explain why she was still alive was to either lure Tenet to them, or to keep Violet calm. "Relax and be good. It'll be okay."
"Okay, Mumma," Violet said with a sniff. "Okay."
"Smart mother," said Bradwin quietly only for Scarab's ears. "I highly recommend you keep being a smart mother. You do not want to know what will happen to you if you don't." Everything about the man's bearing told Scarab he meant exactly what he said, and she gave a small nod. He turned in his seat. "Get that camera out of her face," he snapped at Jace.
The little arm retracted and the lens was turned upward away from her face. Though she still had the heart and brain wave monitors, at least she had a modicum of privacy. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer for the Mother to send help. Though it had been over twenty years since she actually believed in the Celtist religion, for the first time in years, Scarab was out of options.
The transport bounced over the rough mountain terrain. It was night, so Scarab had no way of telling what time it was, or in which direction they were heading. She tried to glean every bit of information she could from Bradwin as he spoke to her daughter, but he was giving up very little. Instead, he was filling the girl's head with all the things life in the Southland and New Canada would offer.
"You will have very pretty dresses," he promised.
"But I have a brand new leather suit just like Mumma's," Violet protested. "I don't like dresses."
Bradwin looked down at the girl. He marveled at just how much she resembled her mother, and wondered idly if his wife would be disappointed there wasn't more of Tenet in the girl's features. It didn't matter one way or the other, of course. The situation was what it was. But he would be the one to have to listen to the bitching if Irmara was displeased. And Irmara was generally displeased with pretty much everything. "You cannot wear leathers in Southland," he told her.
"Why not?"
"Because it is not allowed to kill an animal and wear its skin."
Violet giggled. "But after you eat them, they don't need skin anymore."
Bradwin sighed. He had a lot of work ahead of him to make this little heathen child presentable. "Well you will not eat them in the first place, so they will need
to keep their skins right where they are."
Violet tilted her head to the side. "We won't eat them?"
"No."
"Not any of them?"
"No," he said firmly. "It is wrong to kill an animal and eat it."
Violet frowned. "Maybe you cooked it wrong."
Bradwin was taken aback. "Excuse me?"
"Maybe that's why you don't like eating it. Da hates it when Mumma cooks because she makes the meat tough and yucky. Does your Mumma cook it wrong, too?"
It didn't matter that her head throbbed or her arm ached, that was funny and Scarab bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"No. My mumma did not cook it wrong. She did not cook it at all. We do not kill animals to eat them."
"Why not?"
Bradwin rubbed the bridges of his nose, already growing sick of the child's questions. So there was some of Tenet in this dark haired little girl after all. "Because it is wrong. Because there is no reason to take a life when you have other options."
Violet frowned. "What's a option?"
"A choice. Something else you can do. For example, I have plenty of fruits and vegetables to eat. Therefore, there is simply no reason to kill an animal. I have the option to eat the plants, so I choose that and let the animals be happy and free."
"Oh," said Violet, finally understanding. "I get it. I eat beef when I have the option because Da says mutton and deer are gross."
Scarab's eyes twinkled, Bradwin threw his hands in the air, and Jace was fed up with the lot of them. "I give up!" Bradwin said in frustration. "I will let your grandmother teach you that lesson."
"You have a grandmother in your septad?"
Bradwin's eyes went wide. He didn't believe Tenet would raise his daughter the same way he grew up, but he had firmly believed that Tenet would keep some things sacred. Not only did he feed her meat, but he let that heathen culture get its claws into the girl. He cursed Jace in his head yet again for his incompetence and decided to dock the pay even more. "We do not have septads," he said with as much control as he could muster. "We live in towns, like normal, ordinary people."
"Da said you live with your heads up your asses."
"Violet!" her grandfather gasped.
"It's true! I heard him say it to Mumma."
Even Jace snorted in laughter and Scarab was never more proud of her daughter.
"That is very foul language for such a young girl and you should be punished!"
Violet sighed heavily. "Now you sound like Da."
"I should. I raised him. And I can assure you that our heads are not up our...rumps! After a few months of settling in, you will learn that our way is best." Bradwin gave the little girl a stern look and a firm nod.
Violet suddenly turned uncomfortable again. "Mumma I wanna go home."
Scarab squeezed back the pain. "It's okay. It'll be okay."
"You are going home," said Bradwin, trying to drown out Scarab's voice. "And it will have big yard to play in and a swing set and many children to play with. Have you ever watched television? No?" Bradwin kept talking, telling her all of the things his land had to offer that she never would get in the Borderlands, telling her about the family she hadn't yet met, telling her about her little cousins, Nada's twins that she could play with, anything that came to mind just to keep her from panicking. The one thing he hated above Irmara's griping was a wailing child, and her lip had started to quiver there for a moment. Besides, the rest of the journey would go much smoother if she cooperated. He talked until he saw her eyes getting heavy, and quieted his voice to soothe her to sleep. Her head lolled to the side of the seat that held her captive and Bradwin wiped his sweaty brow.
"I do not know how you manage to put up with that around the clock," Bradwin said as he mopped his sweaty face and neck with a handkerchief. "I believed you were a tough woman before, and now I am certain of it."
The throbbing in Scarab's head increased the longer she forced herself to stay awake. The jostling of the transport made everything worse and soon she was struggling to remain conscious. "Don't compliment me while you're kidnapping my daughter," she ground out, trying desperately to keep her focus.
Bradwin snorted. "You have a mighty chip on your shoulder for one in such a predicament. I can promise that compliments will be few and far between from here on out. You should simply say 'thank you' and move on."
The dark metal floor and curved seat back in front of her swirled and blurred in her vision. "He won't come, you know," Scarab said, needing to do anything she could to help their cause.
Bradwin gave a small, humorless laugh. "Come now. If there's one thing I know for sure it's that my son is far too romantic for his own good."
Scarab felt a flood of relief. Bradwin just confirmed that they didn't get Tenet. He was still home, still safe. "He's weak and soft," Scarab insisted, trying to keep her heartbeat calm through the lie. "He does nothing all day but stay home and fiddle with his crafts."
Bradwin glanced up in the mirror and lifted an eyebrow when Jace stared at him. Jace shook his head and shrugged, not knowing if Scarab was telling the truth or lying. "You don't think very much of your womanly wiles if you believe that."
"I have no womanly wiles," Scarab said. "I'm a shitty and demanding wife and he's probably very happy to get rid of me."
Bradwin let out a small laugh that sent shivers through Scarab with its coldness. "Let's not misunderstand each other, hunter. I know my son. I know every single fault of his, and I know the damn fool was probably besotted from the moment you scraped his sorry ass up out of the ashes. Don't play games. They won't get you very far."
Scarab squeezed her eyes tightly, trying to keep her focus. The throbbing in her temple would not stop, and when she tried to turn her head to see if a different position would help, she found she couldn't move very far. Something tugged on her skin when she tried and she remembered the monitor. She wondered how much Jace could read, what he could see by her brain waves. She had been away from technologies like those for so many years she couldn't even hazard a guess at how good they had become.
Jace noticed the brain wave monitor was going nuts. He frowned and gripped the steering wheel tighter. His boss was giving Scarab too much information and Jace could literally see her gears turning. The last thing he wanted at this point was for her to hatch a plan. She was strapped into an electromagnetic holding device. Her vital statistics were monitored in every possible way. He could press a button and see everything she was doing in less than a second. His boss thought he was being ridiculous, that it was overkill to use so much equipment on one small woman, but Jace knew Scarab. He studied her years of bounty hunting with a determination that bordered on obsession. If there was one thing he knew for sure it was that he'd never met anyone who was better at getting out of a tight situation. At that moment, she couldn't move. But she was still working out her escape, and that was something Jace could not afford to forget.
"Mr. B, I think the conversation should end," Jace said in a stern voice, glancing up at the man in the rear view mirror, hoping that for once Mr. B wasn't going to need a detailed explanation.
Bradwin sighed. He'd worked with the man for years and knew what that look meant. It was a patronizing look that said the hunter believed the old man was a complete moron. Bradwin had the urge to remind Jace once again just who it was that paid his bills and kept him in whores and wine. However, he would never do that in a board room. Even though he was in a transport in the blasted wildness, business was still business. He gave Jace a small nod, then turned to stare out into the dark night.
Scarab listened for any response, waiting for a reprimand she was sure Bradwin would give the impudent hunter. When none came, Scarab saw an opportunity. She scoffed with as much authority as she could muster. "I see the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
Jace waited for more, but when that was all she said, his frown deepened. What was she playing at? He glanced in the mirror again to warn Bradwin to keep his mouth shut, but
the man wouldn't look up, and if he said anything else at this point, he knew it could just play into whatever Scarab's plan might be.
Scarab waited patiently. If she had judged correctly, neither man could let that statement go. One of them would want to know what she meant. As the seconds ticked by in silence, she was just beginning to wonder if she miscalculated, when Bradwin could not help himself.
"And what could you possibly mean by that?"
If he had been allowed to keep the camera on her, Jace would have seen the little twinkle of triumph in her eye. "It's just striking how similar you and Tenet are," Scarab told him.
Bradwin snorted. "That bump on the head must be worse than I thought! Did you ever hear such nonsense, Jace? This just got highly entertaining, indeed. Tell me, female hunter, just how it is that I am in any way like my fop of a son. I'm all ears."
Before Jace could answer and shut down the conversation, Scarab's voice was loud and clear in the cab of the transport. "You both take orders from common bounty hunters."
Bradwin tried never to lose his temper. He had spent decades perfecting the cool aloofness a politician of his caliber needed to display during even the most terrible crisis, and he considered himself an expert on stoicism. However, her one simple sentence and all it implied set his blood boiling. He bowed to no one. No one! And it was time the hunter bitch learned that lesson well. "Protocol," he snapped, his eyes seeking Jace's in the mirror.
Scarab didn't even have time to wonder what that meant when she heard a faint hum, then felt a searing pain shoot through her temple. She had just enough time to feel a flutter of panic before everything went black.
"Done, boss," Jace said, removing his finger from the button that sent an electric jolt through Scarab's brain. Years of practice, some successful, some less so, had taught Jace the right voltage he needed to deliver though the electromagnetic holding device to incapacitate a person without killing them. A quick glance at her heart monitor showed he had gone a tad too far, and he anxiously watched the line, hoping for it to resume a steady rate. After a couple cycles, the line settled down into a more normal, if somewhat rapid, rate, and he felt relief. She seemed overly sensitive to the electricity. He didn't want her dead. If that was the goal, he would have killed her back in her home. He also didn't want her brain fried. When she finally came to him as he wanted for so long, he wanted her to really be Scarab, all of her, not just some vegetable with tits.
Bradwin looked out the window into the night, hating the feeling of anger that still rushed through him. Jace had warned him that Scarab was scathing, but he had years and years of Irmara's razor tongue and fully believed he could handle anything a heathen hunter could throw his way. Irmara was the very best at cutting a man down, after all. He gave a bitter little laugh thinking about how entertaining it would be to watch Irmara and Scarab go at each other. Perhaps the hunter would finally give Irmara the comeuppance she desperately needed.
The scary laugh worried Jace. Mr. B had lost his temper, and that was exactly the game Scarab was playing. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Mr. B just that, but after Scarab's words, he knew the man wouldn't take it well. Instead, he decided to try concern. "You okay, boss?"
Bradwin's eyes snapped to Jace's in the mirror. "You undersold the heathen's intelligence."
Jace hadn't. In fact, he'd spent the last seven years that he worked for Mr. B trying to hammer it home just how clever Scarab was. It wasn't his fault Mr. B didn't listen, but with the man's temper at the breaking point, it would not be wise to point that out. "We're almost to camp," he said instead. "We'll put up for the night and she'll be out of your way."
Bradwin waved a hand and turned to look back outside. A granddaughter who wore fur, a huntress with the ability to cut a man's balls off with one sentence, and a moron at the wheel. That's what he had to deal with. And the damn impossible trails through the wilds that rattled his teeth and pounded his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose, telling himself over and over it was worth it. Twenty years of planning and he was so very close. He could put up with a little sass and an idiot. The girl would be taken in and go through training. She was smart and very young still, with enough of her father in her to adapt. He could get through this. He could see it out.
He was so very close.