Free 03 Saints by Lynnie Purcell Page B

“Within the Saints, there are those who have proven themselves to us, but haven’t been around long enough to gain ‘general’ status. And then there are those who are trying to prove themselves and earn their acceptance in the group.”
    “Sounds pretty complicated,” I said. “Is Reaper a general?”
    “He’s the president,” she said.
    “Not dictator?” I asked.
    River smiled. “No. He started the Saints, but we always have a choice whether or not to follow him, which we always do…follow him, I mean. He’s smart, takes care of us, and has a master plan locked in his head. He’ll lead us to victory, I’m sure.”
    Her confidence in him said a lot about her and even more about him. I just wondered if they weren’t deluding themselves. Not dying felt like a win to me – what they had in mind would take years, if not centuries. Fighting against Lorian, Darian and Marcus was not as easy as she made it sound.
    “Lead the way, I guess,” I said.
    I followed River out of the room and down the hall. She led me toward the stairs again. As we walked, she talked about the group – its mission and its purpose. She kept circling back to the ideals of the group and that all Watchers deserved freedom. She was very adamant on that issue. I listened carefully. Part of me was skeptical of the fact that they could just be romanticizing freedom fighters, spouting the ideals, but not doing as much as they claimed. Another part of me loved the idea of what they were trying to accomplish. If it was true.
    On the second floor, she took me down the long hall and into an open room at the very end of the hall. This room had sofas and round tables scattered around in a chaotic clutter. People sat around the tables and on the sofas, some in groups, and others singularly. It made the room feel even more cluttered. There was a lot of noise in the form of laughter, talking and music, as people let off steam and did whatever they wanted.
    One group in particular caught my attention, mainly because they were the largest of the groups. They sat at the table closest to the door. Out of all the Watchers in the room they were the most relaxed; I sensed it was because they were the most capable. They were playing poker; playing with a lot of cash on the table. I didn’t need River to tell me they were part of the ‘general’ crowd. It was as obvious as the dawn.
    I scanned the faces of the group in curiosity, wondering what it took to be one of Reaper’s top ten. I was more than a little startled when I recognized a face in the group. The neon blue eyes, the tattoo of the King of Spades, and, certainly his face, were familiar. It was the man who had taken me from Anna and given me to Master Limp. He was one of Lorian’s.
    My body tensed from the urge to either fight or flee. I choose to fight. I took out the knife I had placed in my boot for safekeeping and crouched into a ready stance. He saw me, saw my reaction to him, and immediately stood. His face was apologetic, and his hands rose in a peaceful gesture. The others in the room stopped their merrymaking, so they could stare at me.
    I ignored the stares and focused on the man. His eyes were the only ones I cared about. I wanted to rip them from his skull. River put her hand out as I glared at the man.
    “Whoa! Hold your horses!” River told me. “What’s your deal?”
    “She thinks I work for Lorian,” the man told her. “She saw me there. I took her to the holding cell.”
    River’s face flooded with understanding. “Oh, I see. Clare, meet King. King here is the reason we were at Lorian’s, on the night we rescued you. We sent him there to spy on the organization…but he was discovered. We went there to get him out.”
    “Sorry about turning you over to…” King started to say.
    “Master Limp?” I said.
    He laughed at my description, but I wasn’t in the mood for laughs.
    “Sorry for allowing that creature to hurt innocent people? To hurt me?” I demanded.
    “I