Kings of Hell

Alyssa’s POV

Mediocrity… a boring life.

I never realised how obviously and desperately I craved it because it was impossible for Ultimates to attain.

As I walk within the bunker, pacing up and down the Red Lounge, I think about absolutely everything, including my super soldier freaks – and I realise a normal life will never, ever, ever be possible for us. Not ever.

Just one murder brought so much hurt, it bred the need for justice, retribution, revenge, it pushed the secondary victims into desperate plans of plotting, trying to find control again.

But this had evolved into a personal war. A family war. Our family had soldiers and what did they do? Soldiers executed war plans – to find victory or achieve a strategic goal. That’s exactly what STRIKE do. That’s exactly what they did tonight. Dale, Serge, Ace and Jose were brilliant, well-tuned and expert masters of bringing imminent death to their enemeis. I never thought of them like that. They were always just sexy to me. Of course, they were that too. Strong, fast, tall, smart. Killers. And I was just like them, I was a killer too. We were all primed for this.

The Zenith Alphas and A.R.M.Y were extensions of our reach and influence. REIGN was also a part of that network.

But me… as a woman – mostly as a mother – I feared for my children. Ariel, Sally and Casey. I wanted them to survive. I wanted peace for them more than anything else.

Yet, ordinary humans either revered, feared or hated us. Some believed we didn’t even have the right to an existence. Who could blame them for being scared. We never meant to cause suffering… but of course, when violence was involved, there was always hurt. Always. And the cycle continued.

Sammy and Hacksaw were two of the most provocative players in the game. Provoking wars. Choosing violence. Enjoying power plays.

We weren’t immune either. Dale had a streak of sadism in him, I knew it, but he controlled it well. He was smart enough to know, abusing his power would never benefit him in the long term… plus I believed he had some morals. Of course, he could become an evil mastermind, if he wanted to… but I think Casey changed it all for him.

The most human you would ever see Dale was when he talked to Casey. He loved that boy. I loved that little-big shit, too. Who didn’t.

Children seemed to bring the light out in the dark for us all. Family. Love. The prospect of a safe future. It made it all worth it.

But I thought everything would simmer down when Sammy and Louis burned to dust. Until they were nothing.

But how wrong could I be in this moment?

How could arrogance bring me down?

In so many ways, I am scared we haven’t done enough.

I keep pacing.

I am alone.

STRIKE went off and I didn’t call anyone else in to talk to me.

I wanted to think.

Dale tried to contact Zac and couldn’t. That is why STRIKE went off on an emergency mission. I didn’t know what they were going to do, I didn’t want to know. I didn’t even want to be there. That’s why I’m here.

And I just can’t stop thinking.

How to fix this.

How to fix all this right now and all threats to come.

How secure were we? Atlantis was controlled by Wade and his Alphas. They would defend Ariel with their life. Avalon was ruled by REIGN and Vana, A.R.M.Y and Sally. Andromeda had disappeared. FC… Frankincense City is where every single type of person converged. It was the most free city. But democracy was a slight farce here. Everyone knew if you wanted to experience anarchy, you came to FC for a risky little fun holiday.

So how secure were we really? I have no idea.

I feel like I’m seeing the world with fresh eyes but it’s not easier, it’s all one big new fucking migraine.

I didn’t think I’d be seeing it all with this level of heightened emotion.

I am feeling the tragedy of it all. Past, present and coming.

And me and my selfish mind. Ha. I just wanted to enjoy date night at a restaurant – we had never done anything so mundane in all our lives, and it only ended with threats on my family.

I nearly jump right out of my skin when my C-link vibrates on my wrist.

I answer the call, it’s Ace reporting in.

“What’s up?” I ask, my voice notably shaky.

“We detained them, honey,” Ace sounds so reassuring and sweet at the same time, “Zac and Lucy are separated and in cells in the bunker. You didn’t see our descent, we just headed down the lift?”

“I wasn’t looking at the lights,” I murmur, “What are they saying?”

“Lucy is hysterical, tried to kill Serge – he knocked her out. Then Zac tried to kill Serge – he got knocked out too. We’ll talk to them, okay, doll? We’ll sort them out, don’t you worry about a –”

Ace is still talking to me but I end the call, only to immediately start sobbing uncontrollably with relief.

FUCKING FINALLY.

Was this tragedy or trauma?

I was feeling it all.

All of it.

It was almost too good to be true, Zac and Lucy handled so quickly.

I expected armageddon. Not the boy but my luck… oh, my luck was awful. Well, no, my luck was spectacularly both good and awful. I had experienced so many highs and lows in life. But now I want peace, so fucking bad – and I didn’t want anyone taking it away from me.

I run to a tissue box and wipe my eyes and blow my nose.

I keep pacing, feeling the cold air on my skin, hearing the lift rise this time.

I see the lights blinking.

For a final time, I feel all my cells tense, readying for a fight.

I feel like Hacksaw’s ghost might just jump out of that lift and kill me.

I run for the bar, for a spare gun, and I lift it to point to the doors.

Just in case. Just in case Hacksaw came back to life. Or Sammy. Or just in case Zac had escaped.

The lift slides open and I drop the gun to my side, exhaling deeply.

It’s just Dale.

Just him and no one else.

He is so relaxed too, just a lazy big cat, at peace in his lair. How was he so calm through everything?

Dale’s hands are shoved deep in his pockets, but he freezes when he sees that I had a gun pointed at him when the doors opened a second ago.

“Kitten?” Dale drawls quietly, with concern.

As he walks out, I turn toward the bar and place the gun on the counter, since I don’t need it.

I turn back to him and he is already there, moving closer to me quickly, he puts a hand on my cheek, confused why I have red, watery eyes and swollen lips.

“What’s the matter?” Dale asks me seriously, like a doctor or a scientist, or a counsellor. Any of them feel comforting to me. I smile and sniffle, wiping my hand over my nose.

“I don’t want anyone I love to die,” I whisper my greatest fear, “…and I’m scared of everything.”

Dale’s purple eyes had been frantically searching mine, but now a slow, sexy smile is plastered across his handsome face, “What’s so funny?” I whisper, my tone husky with more held back tears.

“You’re such a girl,” Dale says it so kindly.

Ah!

Feeling the love in that statement, I immediately hug him close.

I hold onto his super wide chest, and I feel his super strong heartbeat, and I just squeeze.

Dale puts an arm around me too, although his hand slides down to land over my ass at the easy opportunity to clench my butt.

I sigh in exasperation and look up at him with my still wet eyes. I blink and two tears roll out, so I wipe my face in his suit.

All hugged out, I push off Dale’s chest to turn and walk away but he pulls me back against his torso, my ass now over his crotch, as his hand slides across my stomach, under my dress and over my lingerie.

His lips slide over my ear, “…why are you scared, doll?” Dale lets out an offended growl. Of course it hurt him.

“But I’m sad too, not just scared, because I want a normal life so badly and I’ll never have one,” I admit, chuckling hysterically, “We’ll always be fighting an enemy. Fuck.”

“Normal people, living normal lives, have exactly the same problems we do,” Dale surprises me when he uses that logic, “The difference is we can fight it – a lot of people suffer in silence. Not everyone is capable, through misfortune or circumstance alone.”

“You have an answer for everything,” I whisper, “I didn’t know you had such a sweet side,” Dale goes uncomfortably quiet and I turn back into his front, my hands splayed over his chest, as I look up at his stony expression, still so sexy – and his eyes, holding a warning that he isn’t that nice, “I know you’re a big bad mean boss, Dale. But that side of you doesn’t scare me, because I’m me,” I explain to him, “If you ever crossed me… but you’d never. Because I’m me,” and it’s that damn simple. I gulp as I wonder something deep and disturbing.

Ironically.

Dale’s thoughts are there already.

He knows what I’m thinking.

And he says it, reading my damn mind.

“You’re exactly like her,” Dale drawls.

It’s brutal.

For me.

I don’t know if he knows how much that hurts.

But I keep in my emotions in that moment, as he tells me plainly.

“There’s no difference,” Dale adds, rubbing it in.

“She and I were genetic clones, genius, we are – were – exactly the same,” I murmur, choosing to show no anger.

“It also means a part of me will always distrust you,” Dale admits more, “But I’ll always love you just the same.”

Oh my gosh. Men. Why? Why did he have to go there!

“Why the hell would you say that?” I can’t hold it in, my joy is gone and I back up slowly, my tone drops to rage, “Why would you distrust me? I love you.”

Dale knows he fucked up but even so, he told some fucked up truth that made sense to him and his mind. He looks me over, his eye twitching as he almost says it, “You’re…”

“I’m?” I try not to yell.

“Smarter,” Dale dares to say it.

Now he is joking?

“No way,” I shake my head, “There’s no way, don’t poke fun at me.”

“High levels of neuroticism is something you suffer from – so you’re just… crazier. But you are smarter. I’m level headed so I think a bit quicker, but every interaction we’ve ever had… ever… you’ll always win, even when you think I win, you always win,” Dale doesn’t sound happy having to say this.

“That was the most illogical statement you’ve ever said in your life,” I growl, “What the hell does that even mean?”

“I once admitted to you, I’m the whore,” Dale hates having to bring this up too. He did admit that once – when he was extremely drunk. I’m careful not to laugh. I just nod, slightly, “Absorb that, doll… think about it,” Dale smirks a bit, but I also know he only said it because we are alone-alone.

I stand there, feeling like a fool. I was taking him so serious but he was just expressing…

The fucker was just… expressing attraction. And his weird form of love.

And how love fucks you up. Basically.

Literally that’s all he was explaining.

Right…

“Dale,” I say seriously, “…sometimes… you should shh…” I go to put my finger to my lips, but he shakes his head – the mafia boss is having none of it.

Vulnerability gone, Dale hauls my ass up by snatching me around the waist. He rips my dress down my back – instead of handling the zip with soft hands, he violently undresses me before tossing my favourite new dress aside, as we head for the couches.

“I’m going to beat your ass red, doll,” Dale laughs, villainous, “You’re such a brat. Lucky you have a good teacher.”

I even hear him taking off his belt.

That’s when I realise it’s not a joke.

I internally freak out.

Not because I’m scared of pain.

But because I’m already horny as frick.

And I still have a natural part of me – that wants it bad.

Fuck.

There’s something painful about realising I’m naturally a dirty, needy, desperate whore for this kind of negative attention.

…but we all had kinks, right?

Heheh.