Kora Exiled (Kora Series Book 2) Read online

  Samantha and Martha come down the staircase, looking wide-eyed at the roamers.

  “Oh, I see you’re not alone,” a ranger states, turning to face them. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

  There’s something nasty and sleazy in his voice. The other roamers laugh. I can’t allow them to hurt my friends.

  “Kora,” Samantha mutters, holding Martha protectively.

  “Go back upstairs,” I direct, pulling my knife.

  CHAPTER 7

  The girls quickly run upstairs. The rangers approach as I back slowly away, holding my knife out in front.

  “You stinking outsider,” one of them says, spitting on the floor. “You think you’re one of us now?”

  I wave my knife, “Stay back!”

  But they don’t listen, grinning as they move in closer. I feel their eyes studying me, and for a moment, I can envision myself from their point of view. A skinny frightened girl desperately brandishing a knife.

  “Jin and Maxine will return any moment,” I say. “If they catch you here…”

  “Shut up!” their leader barks.

  Two of them lunge forward and I flash my knife. They recede a couple of steps and begin taking me in a circle. I feel trapped now, knowing I can’t fight off all of them.

  “We don’t tolerate any outsider trash in our village,” their leader states.

  They suddenly charge at me and I scream, stabbing at them, trying to at least do something. Somebody grabs my knife hand, twisting it behind my back. I groan in pain, dropping the knife and doubling over. They throw me to the floor, laughing, then pull me back to my feet. I realize that they never intended to hurt Samantha or Martha. I’m their primary target, and they’re about to beat the hell out of me.

  I grit my teeth, clawing at the face of the guy holding me. He curses, flinching back. But the others grab my arms, restraining me. I yell in anger, kicking and trying to shove them away. One roamer covers my mouth. I bite his fingers as hard as I can. But there are too many of them, and they’re much stronger. They take turns slapping and shoving me, obviously enjoying themselves. My ears ring. And I think, why in the world can’t I defend myself? Why do I always wind up being a defenseless, silent victim? The thought hurts much more than the physical pain.

  “Damn! What the hell is going on down there?!”

  I turn to see Wreck slowly descending the staircase. He’s dressed in his ranger uniform. He looks savage, shockingly similar to the attackers with his painted face. His lips stretch into a malicious grin.

  The rangers freeze, staring at him in surprise.

  “Well, look here!” he blurts, moving in closer. “I’ll be damned if we haven’t got four idiots with no concept what private property is.”

  “What are you doing here?” one of the rangers asks. “We thought you went hunting.”

  Wreck strolls leisurely across the room, heading toward us. “Well, I’m about to start hunting! I was trying to nap, and you idiots interrupted my sleep!” His eyes become narrowed and wild. “I’m gonna show you what happens to trespassers around here! Maybe beat some sense into your thick skulls!”

  The level of outrage in his voice frightens me. A ranger grabs me from behind and puts a knife to my throat. I don’t react, still staring at Wreck. Three other rangers step toward him, opening switchblades.

  He smirks, “Oh really? You want to cut me?”

  “Back off, nutbag!”

  Wreck grabs a heavy wooden chair and raises it over his head.

  “C’mon, you cowards!” he shouts. “Come get some!”

  They attempt to take him in a circle, but he moves quickly to cut them off. He slams the chair into the head of the nearest roamer, bringing him down. He spins around and throws the chair into another attacker, knocking him down as well. A roamer charges in from the side, attempting to stab him. But Wreck steps aside and grabs his knife arm quicker than the guy can react. He twists his arm into an awkward position and takes the knife away. He knees the roamer in the stomach, and as the guy doubles over, he follows up with a flying knee to his face. The guy goes down, blood oozing from his broken nose.

  I stand unmoving, just watching. The last attacker is still holding the knife at my throat.

  Wreck turns to face us, smiling.

  “Stay back!” the ranger shouts. “I’ll slit her throat!”

  Wreck doesn’t seem to care. He begins walking toward us, a crazed look in his glossy eyes. The ranger shoves me away and breaks for the door. Wreck grabs a heavy cup from the table and throws it. The cup strikes the roamer in the back of the head, smashing into pieces. The guy stumbles and falls.

  “Not so fast, loser,” Wreck says. “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

  The roamer reaches for his dropped knife. Wreck kicks the knife away, grabs the guy’s head and begins smashing his face against the floor. The guy groans, losing the ability to put up any further resistance. He starts crawling for the door, but Wreck grabs his ankles and drags him back inside the room.

  I just watch in shock, my back pressed against a wall.

  Wreck sits on top of him and opens his switchblade. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. This whole time he’s been carrying his knife. Why didn’t he pull it sooner?

  “You piece of crap,” he says. “Look at me.”

  The guy mumbles something incoherent.

  “Wake up!” Wreck slaps his face. “Why did you come here? Did Tartis send you to hurt us?”

  “We didn’t mean you any harm. Just following orders.”

  “I’ll be damned,” says Wreck. “You were just following orders. So am I supposed to just let you go now?” He places the blade closer to the guy’s face. “Nah, I have a better idea. Why don’t I carve my name in your forehead? Or maybe I should just kill you?”

  The guy shuts his eyes, turning away as Wreck raises the knife.

  I hold my breath, horrified yet fascinated.

  “Don’t kill me,” the guy mutters.

  Wreck brings the knife down, stabbing the floor an inch from the roamer’s face. He leans in and says softly, “Listen closely. If you or any other bloodsuckers ever come around here again,” he pauses, smirking, “it will be the last thing they ever do. Got it?”

  “I get it,” the guy mutters.

  Wreck pulls him back to his feet. He half leads, half drags him toward me.

  “I believe you’ve assaulted my friend,” he says. “Let’s teach you some better manners.”

  He forces the guy to kneel in front of me, twisting his arm behind his back. The guy winces in obvious pain. I’m still watching in shock, my legs and arms shaking.

  “Apologize,” Wreck orders.

  “I’m sorry,” the guy mumbles.

  “I can’t hear you!”

  “I’m sorry!”

  Wreck twists his arm a little more, almost breaking it. “Louder!”

  “Sorry!!!” the guy screams.

  “Please stop,” I breathe out.

  Wreck kicks him violently, “Now get the hell out of here!”

  After the roamer leaves, he approaches the others. One is creeping toward the door.

  “Need some help there?” Wreck asks, grabbing him by the shirt.

  He drags him across the room and throws him outside. The other two roamers begin coming to.

  “Get out!” Wreck shouts, kicking the closest guy. “I’ll kill you if I catch you here again!”

  I’m unable to move or speak.

  Once they’re gone, Wreck closes the door and turns to face me. He chuckles, “Well, that was entertaining.” He looks around and grins sheepishly. “Oh, darn. What a mess.”

  I stare blankly at him. Just a moment ago he was infuriated and seemed out of control. It’s hard to keep up with all his sudden mood swings.

  He examines the chair, muttering, “Thank goodness it’s not broken. Maxie would kill me. It’s her favorite chair. Anyway, I’d better take care of this mess before they return.”

  He finds a broom and begins sweeping up pieces of the broken cup. I’m still standing frozen in place. Wreck whistles, his expression carefree.

  “You all right?” he asks when he’s finished. “You haven’t moved for like ten minutes. What’s wrong? You weren’t scared by those guys, were you?”

  I get a grip on myself and look up at him. “It’s not them. It’s… you.”

  He blinks a few times, looking at me sheepishly. “Aww, now. Why be scared of me? I’m a nice guy. Never hurt a fly.”

  He makes a silly grin. I don’t return his smile.

  “Wreck. Do you even realize how scary you can be?”

  “Me?!” He widens his eyes in pretended astonishment. “Now, that’s not true. You gotta be kidding.”

  “I’m serious! Goodness, Kris. You almost killed them!”

  “But I didn’t,” he says softly, “did I?”

  I give him a sharp look. “Your violent outbursts are terrifying. It seems like you completely lose all self-control when you’re angry and…”

  “I wasn’t angry,” he interrupts. “I don’t lose my cool so easily. I just wanted to scare the hell out of them. Teach them a lesson.”

  “Did you really enjoy hurting them?”

  He snickers, “What do you think?”

  I don’t know what to think of him.

  “You’re too cruel,” I say.

  “Oh really?” he snorts. “You think I did something wrong? They broke inside Jin’s home and put a knife to your throat. Was I supposed to just close my eyes to all that?” He pauses, then states, “Those jerks had it coming. So please do me a favor, and don’t lecture me about being cruel. You’re no angel yourself.”

  I bite my lip. He’s right; I’m no angel. And I don’t understand why I feel like arguing w
ith him. Maybe I’m just being envious. I truly wish I could fight like him.

  I sigh and head toward the staircase, but he blocks my way.

  I scowl, “What are you doing? Let me past.”

  “Have any plans for today?” he asks.

  I feel nervous. I don’t know what makes me more uncomfortable, his devilish grin, narrowed eyes, or just his being so close.

  “Why don’t we do something fun together?” he asks in his overly seductive voice. “We’re all alone down here.”

  He gently maneuvers me against the wall. I give him a hard look.

  “Seriously,” he says. “Want to train? It’s time to start training you. I am your mentor, lest you’ve forgotten. I gave you a few days to recover, but we can’t afford to wait much longer. Not considering all these repeated attacks.”

  It takes a moment to comprehend what he’s just said. The change of subject caught me off guard.

  “What exactly does your being my mentor entail?” I ask.

  “Well, you have to call me sir and do whatever I say.”

  I stare at him, frowning.

  He chuckles. “Gotcha! Nah, I’m just supposed to train you. Ease you into the ranger lifestyle.”

  “I’m not in a training mood,” I say, pushing him away.

  He leans in. “Oh, I can help get you in the mood all right.”

  “Stop that!

  “Make me stop.”

  “Damn it, Kris!”

  I shove him away and try to slip past him, but he grabs my shirt.

  “Not good enough. You’re not going anywhere.”

  My blood starts boiling. I turn, slapping at his face. He ducks and catches my wrist. I straighten my fingers, flex my wrist into a knife hand and yank my arm away.

  “Nicely done,” he flashes a smile. “You remember what I taught you.” He lunges forward and grabs my wrists, holding them tightly. “What are you gonna do now?”

  I roll my eyes and twist my wrists the special way he showed me, freeing myself.

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” he chuckles. “Excellent! You’re actually pretty good!”

  I can’t help from smiling back. It’s hard not to.

  “Come with me,” he says, heading toward the door. “We wouldn’t want to make a mess inside the house.”

  I follow willingly. I once again recognize the guy who was teaching me how to fight, who soothed me at night and helped me take revenge for my mother. How could I have ever been frightened of Kris?

  Outside, he stands in front of me and commands, “Throw a punch.”

  I raise my arms a little, feeling extremely self-conscious of the small size of my fists. I punch at the air awkwardly, and lower my hands in embarrassment.

  “I don’t know how to punch,” I confess.

  “I see,” he says calmly. “First off, pay attention to how you’re standing.”

  He shows me the correct way to stand, which I try to imitate.

  “Watch your feet,” he says. “You’re putting your foot out too far in front. That provides me with an opportunity to attack your leg and knock you off balance. All right. Lower your chin a little. Cover yourself.”

  I do my best, following his instructions.

  “Now block my attack,” he directs. “Ready?”

  He throws a few slow punches at my head. I duck, covering my face. He slaps my stomach.

  “Your head isn’t the only part of your body you need to protect,” he chuckles.

  We spend the next several minutes circling one another, trading punches. I mostly cover, ducking, only sometimes trying to hit him. All my punches miss.

  “Don’t drop your arms after a punch, all right?” he instructs. “That’s a common mistake.”

  “I’ll try to remember. You think I can really learn how to punch?”

  “Sure you can. It’s not a rocket science. But in a real fight, you’re not going to punch.”

  “What? Why not?

  “Well,” he smiles. “It’s not the best option for a girl of your size.” I frown. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says. “I’m just stating a fact. Even if you punch me in the face, it won’t do much damage. I guarantee it. And you risk breaking your hand. So why do something that’s so unnatural for you? Nah, it’s best to use punches just for a distraction. Your real weapons are headbutts, eye-gouges and low kicks. You have strong legs.”

  “Whatever,” I sigh.

  “Don’t be offended. Maxie can punch as hard as me, but even she prefers other methods. To tell the truth, I often prefer other techniques as well… like kicks, throws or submissions. It just all depends. Take what is open. C’mon, let’s get back to work.”

  He has me kick him and teaches me how to block his kicks. He shows me how to set up kicks by throwing some distracting punches.

  “Don’t try to kick above the waist, all right?” he instructs. “They might grab your leg if you’re too slow or telegraph your movement, and you’ll end up on the ground.”

  I’m out of breath and sweating. My heart pounds heavily, but my lips are stretched in a wide grin. Training with him makes me feel tougher and more self-confident.

  Wreck grabs my shoulders, sweeps my feet knocking me off balance, and throws me to the ground. I land on my back.

  “Time for ground fighting,” he announces, smiling, and climbs on top of me.

  I wrap my legs around him to prevent him from moving into a full mount. He leans in, squishing me with his weight. My ribcage hurts and I lose my breath, but I’m not about to give up so easily. I place a hand on his face, pushing him away. I grab his ear, twisting it. He grabs my wrists, pinning my arms to the ground. I finally manage to work my knees up to his chest. I’m close to knocking him off. My pulse increases and I smile excitedly, readying myself for a last winning effort. And then…

  “Get off her, you jerk!” somebody yells.

  We freeze for a moment before turning toward the sound of the voice.

  Trent is walking toward us. I become nervous. Wreck releases me, rising to his feet. Trent points a finger at him, “Don’t you dare touch her!”

  Wreck folds his arms across his chest and grins, “Seriously?”

  I’m sitting on the ground, watching them in near panic. I know Wreck will just kill Trent should they fight.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Trent! What are you doing?!” I exclaim, jumping to my feet. “We were just sparring! He’s teaching me to fight.”

  Trent doesn’t listen. He takes a step toward Wreck.

  “You coward,” he spits. “Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?”

  I feel sick. I expect Wreck to yell something back or just hit him, knocking him out cold. But he does something unusual instead, something I least expect. He remains calm.

  “Nice try, Trent,” he says. “But I’m not gonna fight you today.”

  Trent moves in closer, “Are you only willing to fight girls?!”

  I grab his shirt, pulling him away. “Stop! Please stop! You can’t fight him!”

  My voice is trembling.

  “Get away, Kora!” Trent shoves me so hard I almost fall. I look at him in shock. He’s never been so rough with me before.

  “Whoa… easy now,” Wreck says softly. “I wouldn’t shove her around so much if I were you. She might become violent.”

  “Shut your mouth!” Trent exclaims. “She’s not yours!”

  Wreck doesn’t react, watching him indifferently. I stand between them, trying to stop Trent and make him listen. “Please don’t do it!”

  He takes a swing at Wreck, aiming for his head, but he’s too slow. Wreck moves away, easily avoiding the punch. His arms are still folded across the chest, his face having the same relaxed expression.

  “Nope,” he says. “Still not happening.”

  “Please!” I exclaim, pushing Trent away from Wreck. “Calm down!”

  Paying me no mind, he offers Wreck a challenging look. “You loser! You think you’re so tough? You’re nothing! You hear me?”

  “Stop it, Trent!” I shout.

  “I hear you well enough,” says Wreck. “But like I said, it’s not gonna work on me. If we ever do fight, it will happen when and where I choose. And it’s not here and not now. So just do yourself a favor and relax already.” He glances at me. “See you later, Kora. Take it easy, all right?”

  He winks at me and begins walking away. I can’t believe it. Did he just walk away from a fight?