Hunt for the Black Rose

By A.C. Rose

Hunt for the Black Rose is the conclusion of the Black Rose Trilogy. It continues the quest of Carmen, Sister-Heir, and Aton, the mutant outlaw, to find the doomsday weapon of the priesthood. Aton is caught. Carmen must find and rescue him. Aware of the weapon's discovery, the Priesthood launches a preemptive strike and establishes their theocracy, appointing proxy leaders. Faced with confiscation of her family manor, Carmen joins her sister leading the rebel cause. Dissidents of all three nations rise to fight back before their freedoms are lost forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662484827

A.C. Rose

A.C. Rose writes steamy romance novels about soulmates who find each other in slightly mystical ways. She sets many of her contemporary love stories in the magical city of New York, her hometown.  As a former editor of Playgirl Magazine, sexy stories and beautiful men have long been her beat.  She continues to work as a magazine journalist and relationship columnist. Connect with A.C. Rose: Email: [e-mail] Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorACRose                 

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Hunt for the Black Rose

C.A. Rose

Copyright © 2022 C.A. Rose

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-8480-3 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-8482-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

Glossary

About the Author

Other Titles by C. A. Rose

Kiss of the Black Rose

Return of the Black Rose

Acknowledgments

Thanks to my critique partners in Lesser North Texas Writing Group who made the trips of romance and adventure with me. In particular, thanks to Carol Woods, the group founder and Benign Dictator who shared her love of the power of words. She insisted that John Wayne never just walked.

Also thanks to the true hero of my life, my husband, my eternal love.

1

Clubs and Staffs

Through darkest night and bloodstained days, the Guardians must prevail.

—Excerpt from: Mantra: The Guardians

Fear tightened and twisted Carmen's gut like a giant unrelenting corkscrew. She and Aton waited in an alley for the coming skirmish, together, as they should be. Always. Carmen's body tingled at the pressure of Aton's hip against hers—his arm draped across her back, his hand gripping her shoulder. As a soldier, his reflex was to protect her; as if she needed it, with her own experience in the military.

This delay thwarted her mission to get him across the border safely. Fear for him tamped down her ardor. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. This is too dangerous. She used her command voice. We're leaving. Now!

"I am a Watcher. My duty is to provide intel to my warlord. I will report on the rebellion here in the Imperium. He took her hand with a wry smile. It's what I do."

Carmen wanted to wrap her arms around him, to melt in his embrace, but she forced out her harsh words. A dead spy can't give his report.

Aton hugged her and smoothed her auburn hair. Together, your land and mine will expose the Power priest's treachery, even though we work in secrecy for now.

She sighed. If only they could be together.

I'll watch, not engage. Then we'll go.

She fumed and stepped away.

Across the well-lit square in the city of Pottsburg, the Power priesthood's mounted proctors also waited. One of their horses stomped its hoof on the cobblestones. They all waited for the Kiters, youth bands who sprayed graffiti on walls and painted pictures of kites in defiance of the Power priesthood's tenant that no man or man-made object must fly in the sky.

Maybe the Kiters won't come.

Carmen knew better. They'll come. I trust the Shatere's intel. As prince of the Imperium, he secretly led Guardians dedicated to defeating the Power priesthood. She worked for him as an operative, promoting their goal, although she'd refused to join the Guardian cult, rejecting their violent methods. Yet here she was wearing the red Black Rose armband, a tribute to Aton's outlaw activities before he'd been pardoned under Imperium law by the Shatere. Under Church law, Aton was still an Enemy of the Church. He remained in danger from religious zealots.

My mission is to protect you. Carmen's voice sounded raw, argumentative even to her.

Aton squeezed her shoulder. We'll defeat the Power priesthood, each in our own way. Yours as a Civilist is through lawful means. But I'm glad you're with me tonight, my love.

She laid her head against him. I wish I could be with you every night.

He tensed. She lifted her head, ears straining for footfalls. Staring at the formation of proctors, Aton said, I've Sensed readiness and anticipation. The Kiters have arrived. As a mutated human, a muto, he could Sense others' emotions and abilities at this, his maximum range. He waved a red handkerchief behind him to alert the other Guardians.

The square fronted a huge Power temple, its triangular shape pointed to the Po in Heaven. Youths swarmed into the square like rats fleeing a sinking ship. Chanting Freedom in the skies, bands of Kiters surrounded the huge statue at the bottom of the temple's broad steps. Despite the exquisite carving, the sculpture's message infuriated Carmen. The statue portrayed a woman with wings stretching upward to fly but trapped in a net held by Power priests. At its base, the sculpture portrayed other winged humans held captive by priests. Some of the prisoners had their wings cut off, their faces sculpted in agony.

This and other statues of Renunciation were frequent targets of Kiters. Instead of just graffiti and paint, tonight they chiseled the faces off the Power priests' sculptures. As they worked, other Kiters congregated at a gigantic wooden cross raised for the intended crucifixion of the Black Rose, the Enemy of the Church. Carmen's fingers shook as she captured Aton's hand. The planes of his face hardened.

You shouldn't be here, Carmen persisted, although she had already lost this argument.

You represent House Raida, my love. You shouldn't be here either.

Carmen shrugged. Where he was, she'd be. The clop of horseshoes echoed from the alley behind them. Proctors!

Go! Go! Someone's hand, a bodyguard's, pushed Carmen forward. Aton pulled her around the corner into the square. Keeping to the shadows, they fled into the next alley. Stopping, Carmen flattened against the rough bricks of the building to watch with Aton and her Guardian bodyguards. She resisted trembling like a rabber cringing in its bolt-hole from a hunting gryhawk.

Get 'im. Get those muto-loving Kiters, called a gravelly voice.

Get those grot hogs! called another. Cheers mixed with curses followed as shaven-headed teenagers with clubs stormed into the square.

Carmen could disarm anyone swinging a club. Her terror was for the unarmed Kiters. The two teenage bands skirmished frequently over territory in city blocks throughout the Imperium. Charged with protecting the citizenry, proctors reported to the local Power priests and covertly championed the teenage Sons of Renunciation against the Kiters.

A cadre of Kiters broke away from the crowd at the cross and rushed to meet the Sons. To Carmen's surprise, they wielded stout staffs. With extended reach, the Kiters whirled and danced with unreciprocated blows to fend off the Son's clubs. Cries punctuated the teen fighters' grunts and curses.

Beyond the fray, a weighted rope was thrown around one upper bar of the X-shaped cross. A second rope circled the other bar, and both ropes secured the intersection of the X. A boy perched on the Statue of Renunciation directed Kiters to man the ropes. The crews tugged in vain; the cross didn't budge. Carmen suspected concrete held its legs in place. Four Kiters with axes chopped at the bases of the cross.

Carmen admired the planning of this operation and focused on the boy directing it from the statue. Stephen. The Kiter leader is Stephen. She pointed at him.

You're right. Aton had saved the boy once.

Carmen glared at Stephen. He's supposed to be in his barracks at Pottsburg Military Academy. My family pays his tuition to get an education, not to be a street thug.

He's getting another kind of education. Aton grinned.

I instructed him in self-defense, knowing he'd teach other Kiters. I only wanted them to be able to protect themselves, not to wage war. Carmen couldn't curb her exasperation.

Think of it as, being better trained, he's less likely to be hurt. Aton's assertion of logic didn't dampen Carmen's fear for the boy raised on her family manor. She turned from Aton to conceal her flush of anger. He'd promised he'd never Sense her, giving her the privacy of her emotions, but he could read her expression.

I Sense proctors advancing into the square. Aton's head swiveled. From all directions. His eyebrows knit. Someone else is Sensing. There.

Carmen glanced to where Aton pointed, at Stephen. A girl with long chestnut curls whispered in his ear. It's Betsy. I've got to get my sister out of here.

Aton raced toward the melee of Sons and Kiters, toward the proctors. So much for him not engaging. No! Carmen snatched at his arm. Missed. She ran after him, followed by her bodyguards. Two of them jumped in front to stop her.

Too dangerous, Sister-heir.

Out of my way. Protect Aton. She used her officer command voice. They didn't budge.

Orders from the Shatere. The older Guardian crossed his arms, his face set. Aton is a secondary concern. You're primary. As courier for the Shatere, you are tasked to get his message across the border.

Carmen stepped forward. "The Shatere tasked me to get Aton safely over the border. Don't make me hurt you." She pulled her lips back to expose her snarl.

We'll carry you out of here if we have to.

Carmen's shoulders slumped. Her heart raced as Stephen jumped down from the statue to land beside a proctor's horse. She bulled through the Guardians to rescue him.

He didn't need rescuing. Using tactics she'd taught him, Stephen pulled the proctor from his horse and snatched his baton as he fell. Not being an officer, he didn't carry a revolver. Carmen's cheer choked in her throat.

Aton stepped out of the melee and knocked out the proctor who was regaining his feet. The Guardians grabbed Carmen and surrounded Aton, who grasped the preteen Betsy. They rushed back to the alley.

Betsy hugged Carmen. You're good, yes?

I will be when we get Aton out of here.

Stephen followed, but a proctor reined his horse straight at him, swinging his baton.

No! Carmen dove to a dead Kiter's body. Grabbing his staff, she whirled it from the ground into the path of the charging horse. It tripped, breaking its stride and unseating its rider. With a thud, he hit the ground to be met by Aton's knockout punch. He didn't kill if he didn't have to.

Carmen pushed Stephen and Aton into the alley. Let's go!

Stephen pulled free. "I was making sure you got to safety."

Yeah, yeah. Carmen hugged him.

Other Guardians, not attached to Carmen's detail, joined the fight against the proctors. Several Kiters used their staffs to poke and hit the horses to unseat their riders. Carmen regretted the animals' injuries, if not the men's.

An ear-splitting crack filled the air above the cries and shouts of battle. The cross toppled. Cheers echoed around the square, including Carmen's.

They won't be crucifying you on that one. Stephen pulled an engraved rabber medallion from under his shirt. Aton had given it to him in unity of them both being orphans. You had my father killed. Someday, I'll kill you. But tonight, for Carmen, I'll get you through my fighters' territory.

Betsy rolled her eyes.

Nice of you. Aton's lips twitched, but he didn't smile or laugh.

Carmen shook off Stephen's threat as boyish grandiose bragging. You're not killing Aton. You're going back to school. His fighters. Carmen shuddered at his rise to leadership among them. Stephen led them down an alley lit by fires in fifty-gallon drums. Spray-painted kites and slogans of Freedom in the skies adorned the walls.

Hooves echoed at the entrance to the alley they'd just left.

Proctors!

That's the Black Rose. Get 'im, shouted one of the proctors.

Stephen bolted forward. Run!

2

The Gift

Records were destroyed long ago. It is told that in 6 ACW, six years after the Chemical War, a band of freedom fighters joined the Luthard Dynasty Army to drive out the V'lan invaders, expatriates from the moon. The freedom fighters called themselves Guardians.

—Excerpt from The History Compilation,

a project of the Imperium Library staff researchers

They'd never outrun horses. Carmen scanned for a defensible position. None. Reaching an intersection of alleys, she directed the Guardians to split up and go different directions to lead the proctors astray.

Hurry! The Kiter Stephen prodded them onward in the warren of alleys. In a half block, he stopped before an opened basement window. We set up bolt-holes before the demonstration. In! He popped through the opening.

You next. Aton handed Carmen through. Stephen caught her on the drop. Betsy followed, her eyes wide but her breathing deep and measured. She, Aton, and Carmen had fled across the prairies of his Outland home territory where Betsy learned to defend herself…and more. Carmen could rely on her in a fight.

Hooves clattered against the cobblestones, approaching fast.

Come on, Aton. Carmen snapped and unsnapped her holster.

Aton slid through the opening, followed by two Guardians. Carmen expelled her breath.

Stephen nestled the window shut and slid a bolt into place. Come.

They hurried through a warehouse of wooden crates piled high above Carmen's head. At a confluence of rail lines, Pottsburg's river port reigned as the largest mercantile city of the Imperium. Normally, Carmen loved the city's bustle, but now a wharf rat's nails skittering across the floor grated on her nerves. At a door, Stephen motioned for quiet and cracked it open.

I Sense no one. Aton pushed open the door to another alley. Stephen darted across to a warehouse and waved them to join him.

Safe for the moment, Carmen asked, What are you doing here, Betsy?

Same as you. Working for the Shatere. She inclined her head toward Stephen. I report on his activities and keep him safe.

I thought you'd be in school. Carmen couldn't help the reprimand in her tone.

I am. I'm only a weekend Kiter, like him. Mother doesn't know about this…

I won't tell. The girl's mother wouldn't understand. Beware of fanatics. They'll get you killed. Carmen regretted that her words came out so fatalistic.

Convince Aton to let me come with him and you. Betsy's big brown eyes pleaded. You know I can help.

Carmen did know. Not necessary. We'll be met across the border by Warlord Olan's men. We cross by rail-rider in the morning. Misgivings flooded Carmen, but it was Aton's decision to take Betsy or not.

Stephen halted and they huddled around him. Think we lost the proctors. He turned to Aton. Where to?

To my Ashitamor's boarding house. There's an empty room. Betsy spoke with authority. If any of the Guardians were captured, Aton's lodging or hotel could be compromised. They won't expect him at my place. I'm not a person of interest to the Power priests.

Carmen met Aton's eyes and nodded. With her powers as an Ashita to influence thoughts, Betsy wouldn't escape the Power priests' notice much longer.

With a grunt, Stephen led them through the alleys. They didn't see any more proctors. At some trash bins he halted, drawing a crowd of Kiters emerging from the shadows. This is the edge of Kiter territory, the end of my help. Beyond are Sons' streets, but you have only two blocks to go.

We can handle them. Carmen patted Betsy's shoulder.

I'm in good hands. Aton grinned.

The alley ended at a street of row houses with shaven-headed teenagers lolling on porch steps and against globe light poles. One boy ran a club against fence pickets.

Carmen unsnapped her holster.

Relax, said Aton. Their threat is only against Kiters.

One of the Sons pointed at Aton. That's the Black Rose. Get 'im!

Carmen rolled her eyes. The boys swarmed toward them. Betsy held out her hand, palm facing them. One by one, she seared them with her gaze. You shall step back. Allow us to pass. The command in her voice burrowed through Carmen's mind. She stepped back. Not you. Betsy pulled her past the Sons. Too many. I can't hold them. Run!

Three rocks pelted Carmen's back. Too close to her head. They stung. Other stones rained down around them, clicking and thudding against the cobblestones like hail against a windowpane.

Carmen fired. Deliberately not a kill shot, a warning. It hit the lead attacker in the leg, downing him. He yowled. The Sons ran for cover behind parked glide-riders. Out of throwing range with their rocks, they pelted them with words.

You hide behind a little girl and a woman.

Aus cors! Carmen couldn't help cursing, a flaw in her highbred society, but not in the military.

Betsy raced down a side street. This way. We'll go in the side door. Aton loped beside her, his weapon drawn.

Carmen stopped at the side street's entrance. I'll hold the grot hog Sons here. To her bodyguards, she commanded, Retreat. I'll cover you.

No, we're with you. Their leader tried to stare Carmen down.

Go now! The Guardians did. Carmen glared at the two Sons closing on her.

I'm gonna bash your brains out. The bigmouth Son swirled his club over his head.

Carmen wanted to shoot him between his piggy eyes. Instead, she shot him in the foot. He fell screaming to the ground. Self-defense. She sighted on the other Son. He raised his hands and backed away.

Carmen tore down the side street, reached a corner, and whisked through a door held open by Aton. About time. He winked at her. Then his face sobered. They'll send proctors door-to-door hunting us.

Not to this door. Lift me, Aton. Betsy placed her palm on the upper doorjambs then the lower ones. No one will see this one. A haze shimmered, engulfing the door. It will dissipate in morning light. Betsy's lips compressed into a thin line. I've only learned skills to protect myself—not to harm anyone permanently.

You've been taught well. Aton hugged her.

This is why I'm coming with you, brother.

His eyes met Carmen's. Until we're on the rail-rider, Carmen suggested.

When you're on your way, we'll get Betsy back to school, said one of the bodyguards. Carmen nodded.

Aton looked from one of them to the other. So you're ganging up on me? She's gotten to each of you. He sighed. She can come.

Betsy shuffled a little dance. Follow me. There's an unoccupied room which you can use tonight. We won't bother the house super with registration.

We'll leave the room rental in the morning. Carmen used a firm tone.

Of course, Betsy agreed. Can anyone pick a lock?

One of my skill sets. Aton shrugged. Lead on.

With the Guardians tucked into the room and Betsy into hers, Aton pulled Carmen into his arms in the hall. I'm exhausted from Sensing, so I won't take first watch. But I'm not too tired for this. He kissed Carmen's throat, progressing up the side of her neck to nibble her ear. She turned her head so their lips met. The intensity of his kisses always left her tingling, her insides gooey. He withdrew, leaving her craving more, knowing she'd give more if he pressed for it. She wished for his touch, his body to satiate her ever-increasing ache.

* * *

Breathless, Carmen entered Betsy's room to be met with Nya's knife at her throat. Enter, husked Betsy's protector, her Ashitamor, a weathered clanswoman who had attached herself to Betsy when she, Aton, and Carmen journeyed through the Outlands. Betsy had accompanied them to learn from Aton to channel her Sensing skills. Terrified by what she didn't understand or control, the preteen had soaked up Aton's teaching. A tribal woman had given Betsy the rudiments of Ashita training. Despite her mutation's powers, Betsy was still a girl needing conventional schooling. Carmen was determined she'd receive it.

My knife to your hand. Nya flipped it so the hilt faced Carmen. Dwell in peace with Po, your clan under his watch, your flocks safe from hunters of the night.

My knife to your hand. Carmen extended her own knife, hilt first. Be with Po. They clicked the hilts together.

Betsy speaks of you with the warmth of a ewe for her lamb.

Carmen answered in the formality of the tribesmen, And I of her, to suckle a youngling.

Oh, give it up you two. Betsy kissed Carmen on the cheek and picked up a nightgown laid out on the bed. When she pulled off her blouse, she exposed the breastless nipple between her others. Her face clouded. I hate this. She pointed at the third nipple. Her voice took on a singsong tone. ‘Thus the Ashita is reminded that she is just a woman and only Po is God.' Hate it. Hate it. Anyone who sees it will know I'm a muto. She flopped onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow. Carmen longed to hold her, to comfort her.

She must learn to accept her gift. Nya gestured at the other bed. I'll take first watch. As Carmen passed, Nya caught her arm. The girl will not let me accompany her when she goes to the Kiters. But tomorrow, I will. Aton endangers her.

3

The Outlands

Mutos: The name given to humans of the Outlands genetically altered from exposure to toxic chemicals. After generations, abnormalities still persist in the population, including extra limbs, tails, horns, fur, and facial ridges. Undocumented reports claim mental aberrations as well. Due to continuing hostilities and the minimal flow of information, this can neither be substantiated nor denied."

—Excerpt from Guide to Flora and Fauna by Robert Pedar

Waiting at the Pottsburg Rail Station, Carmen remembered her nightmare of a goddess with a third nipple who breathed fire and shot lightning rays from her eyes. Aton smoothed her hand. You're so tense.

I could use a stiff drink. Carmen shrugged. Just kidding.