 Nidhogg - who's going to remember being abandoned for a long, long time Chapter Thirty-Four: Mal |
 Nootau - who could, perhaps, be in a worse place but we don't see how |  Edwige - going through hell and high water (and all sorts of large people) to find him |  Akemi - who is going to have to clean all this up later and isn't pleased about that. |
Chapter Thirty-Three: Nootau
Down Among the Dead Men
More screams filled the air. Dario lost a finger this time. Two ears and a finger. Not to mention all the pretty carving they made in Dario's skin. They shuddered. Blood red pooled on the bland carpet floor. The painful cries really did it for them. Each one ramped up the anticipation which feed the need to hear them again. A vicious little circle—for Dario.
"Names? You want to give us names yet?" they asked as they licked up Dario's jaw. How glorious the hellion's pit. Gratitude made the moment fuzzy and unclear.
"Yes!" he wailed. "Please. Stop!"
Damn. And they had just really started enjoying themselves.
"There's a-ah! Eli Johnson!" Dario panted between syllables, his breath choppy and short. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripping down to mix with the blood. Another shudder wracked his body. "And Carl White! I have more names, but they're in an address book at home. In a safe!"
"What a good boy." They kissed his forehead. "Anyone else important you want to mention?"
"The main guy doesn't work in the camp. He's from the Menominee."
"What?" Nootau roared. He stood up, kicking Dario away. No.
His broken cry fell on Nootau's deaf ears. Blood pulsed through his veins while rage curled around his chilled heart. The two sensations warred as Nootau tried to come to terms with how someone from his family would sell the walkers.
Who would ever sell out their own? Not his family.
Greed.
Revenge.
It's all about power, walker. Who has it?
"Who?" Nootau asked, stalking over to Dario and kneeling next him. The asshole had thought he could crawl away while Nootau had gotten distracted. He yanked up on Dario's hair. Shouldn't let that resistance pass, walker.
Pain etched lines into Dario's face. Blood trailed after him. His breath came out choppy.
"Who from the Menominee?"
Dario's harsh breathing stuttered and his puffed up eyes closed.
"Who!" They shook Dario's head.
The broken laughter was unexpected. They stopped their attack and pushed Dario onto his back. The asshole sneered, raspy breathes going in and out as he breathed.
"You know him."
The conviction behind Dario's statement cut them. Cut Nootau.
"That's why—" Dario gasped. "You're so angry. You're Menominee."
They slashed with the dagger. A howl erupted from Dario, but it did little to soothe the storm inside them. They needed more. The blood wasn't enough. They could never be satisfied, not when the blackness could cover every single bit of the world.
"Waban!" Dario shouted as he cradled his side. "His n-name is Waaaa-ban!"
Nootau froze. Of all the people to betray him. "Liar!"
"I swear to the Gods Above and Mother Earth below, the name is Waban."
But why hadn't Waban warned Dario?
The cranky old medicine man knew Nootau had gone looking for answers. He might have left Waban with a few bruises and cuts, but the old man hadn't been hurt enough to not send out any warnings.
Old bastard probably thought you'd never find anything.
Or ran to cover his own hide, walker. Like any of you know what loyalty means.
Slick with blood and sweat, and out-of-breath, Nootau collapsed to his hands and knees. So much weight held him down. He couldn't get enough air. Blackened slime coated all of his spirit. The sludge repulsive and hard to fight.
"Waban played you for a fool, soul stealer."
It took a moment to realize Dario had said that, not them.
"All of you, walkers, idiots." Dario smiled then coughed up some blood. "Every one of you filthy beasts deserves what you get."
They shuffled over to the asshole, breathing just as hard as Dario. Blood for blood.
"Foolish, walker," Dario sang out in a nasally voice and laughed. "Pathetic, walker. Filthy beast of turd. Waban fucked you, sold you, and played you for the fool."
They swung their leg back and brought it back with a satisfying thwack. A wail erupted from Dario. They kicked again and again. Each time more thrilling, more pleasing, just more. They craved more.
Sitting on top of Dario, pinning him down, felt good. The trapped 'rabbit' shivered underneath him.
"Idiot," Dario spat.
"Possibly," they admitted before wiping off the bloody saliva.
"Waban was right to sell you, walkers. Animals, all of you."
They slid the hands over Dario's chest and up to his face.
"I still regret he couldn't get that one out to us." Dario let out a strained laugh, forcing a smile. "What was his name?"
They stroked over Dario's Adam's apple and watched as it bobbed. Their heart pounded with giddy anticipation. To have Dario's frighten body tremble beneath them, and to know it was because of his fear, his rage, against them. And to know he was powerless against them. They had already won.
Dario just didn't know it yet.
Hope still lingered in his gaze. Hope. Such a fragile emotion. A dangerous one. They understood how easily it could break. And more than anything, they wanted to break Dario's. Luckily they knew how.
"Aah," Dario said. "His name was Ahanu. Did you know him?"
The words were a slap in the face, knocking Nootau back.
"Ohh, you did. You knew that worthless piece of walker trash."
Rage, pure and simple fury, lit inside him. And they gloried as the storm inside Nootau rolled over him, thundering and cracking every bit left of him apart. Leaving nothing but a void filled with a deep-seated need for vengeance.
For blood. For death.
They slid their hands around to Dario's collar bones then up against his neck as the dead man spewed hateful remarks, too belligerent to notice death cozying up to him.
* * * * *
Swords clanged together as the opposing forces clashed. The fighting had managed to make in into the underground labs, but not as far as the hospital. Edwige wished she knew how to tell the different forces apart, but they seemed to know. How, she'd have to ask that question later. It was all she could do to keep up with Bernard while staying out of everyone's way.
Hands grabbed at her, tried to pull her back, but Edwige managed to dance and slid out of their holds.
"How much farther?" she yelled.
"If we can get to the elevator, the upper floors should be in lockdown. Shouldn't be anyone there to stop us."
"Are the elevators even moving?"
"Yes!" Bernard grunted, parried a sword then stepped into his attackers personal space and punched the man in the face. A pop was followed by a gush of blood from the man's nose. Their attacker's attention briefly wavered for that fraction of a second, allowing Bernard to slap him across the face, followed with a quick kick to his stomach, and knock him down.
"Why are they moving?" Edwige asked. "Shouldn't they be stopped?"
"Tactical decision, Frau," Bernard shouted over his shoulder. "Anyone with de appropriate badge can go up or down. Problem is, we don't know who is on what side, that means shutting the elevators down makes it longer to get to our people too."
Which meant more injuries, more pain, possibly more death.
"'Sides, most of us 'ave been trained to breached those elevator passages."
"So not much of a point in stopping them then?"
"Got it in one, Frau."
Edwige nodded and side-stepped to her left, avoiding a grabby hand. Bernard struck at the arm attached to said grabby hand with his dagger, hitting true. The person howled and drew back. They pushed through a knot of knights, bursting in front of the elevators. Bernard laughed and pushed the button.
"Keep them off us!" he yelled back to the knot, getting a roar of affirmatives. He sheathed his sword and dagger.
"Now let's hope the wrong people don' join us."
"Yes." Preferably no one.
The door chimed open. Empty. A rush of relief overwhelmed Edwige but they rushed forward. Bernard jabbed the button for the main floor. She only had a moment to collect herself before the elevator jerked and brought them to the main castle.
The stillness in the halls befuddled Edwige.
"We were fighting for our lives twenty seconds ago."
Bernard nodded. "Ja, Frau."
"This is... " Edwige didn't have the words for it.
"Surreal?"
"Yes," she replied as they walked through the castle.
A few people glanced in their direction but no one seemed particularly alarmed. They should be alarmed. Didn't they understand what was happening? Edwige observed the different humans and Beings as they walked by, noticing how she caught the corner of their eyes. Awareness of an underlying tension in those looks trickled in.
Alarm wasn't the right word. No. Interest, maybe. But why interest? Confusion must have shown on Edwige's face because Bernard spoke up.
"They're waiting."
Edwige glanced up. "For what?"
"To see which side wins, Frau."
Gods Above. Her heart clenched. How... cold. Much like the gray stone surrounding them. Did the people who work here forget the warmth thus making them forget their humanity? Edwige was beginning to suspect so.
"Come. We have to find your third." Bernard led them toward the hall leading to the Aerospace labs.
When they arrived in the hall there was a small commotion by a stairwell. A heavy metal door stood open. Medics were carrying out an unconscious naked man with a white sheet draped over him precariously on a stretcher while several knights were stationed at the door. Bernard dropped a hand to his dagger before calling out to them.
"Was ist passiert?"
The knights looked up, their hands dropping to their swords.
A beautiful dryad replied, "Wir wissen es nicht. Jenson hörte etwas Stöhnen und kam zur Untersuchung. Er fand Sigmund so..."
A few curious glances went beyond Bernard to Edwige. She couldn't tell if that meant they were involved or not. Bernard still had his hand on the pommel of his dagger.
"Ist er verletzt?" Bernard said as the medics passed by them.
A red stain on the sheet caught Edwige's attention. But more than that, she felt something she wished she hadn't. "Stop!"
They did so immediately. Whether from shock or because the medics understood her, she didn't know. Edwige reached out with a shaky hand and pulled the sheet up. No one made a move to stop her so she figured that meant the other knights weren't actively working against them.
What she saw nearly broke Edwige's heart. She swallowed back the cry she wanted to let out. Forced herself to really look. A huge section of skin had been cut from the man's hip area. Not done neatly either. The jagged wound bleed while the sides had clots building up.
"Oh no." Edwige slid her pack off her shoulders and yanked it open. A few bottles clanked hard together as she searched for the draft she put together for such an occasion.
"What's wrong, Frau?" Bernard put a hand to her back. "The medics can—"
"Nootau," she forced out. Where was the damn jar? "This was him."
A pause followed before Bernard said, "You sure, Frau?"
"Yes!" she yelled, barely holding in a sob. A tear fell. The jar! Another tear streaked down her cheek. She pulled it out but couldn't get the top off the salve. "This will help the injury."
A large, warm hand wrapped around hers. Bernard spoke softly as he took the jar from her. "Lemme, Frau. I can do it. Don' you worry."
Edwige let the bottle go as another sob threatened to break loose. She pushed it back, helping the medics get the man onto the floor. Bernard twisted off the top with a pop. Minty tones immediately sprung up and infused the air. She dipped her fingers in, took a liberal amount of the salve, and knelt down.
A moan escaped the man, which was quickly followed by a tremor.
"Oooh, Nootau, what did you do?" she whispered. Those tears kept coming. For the man in front of her, for her third.
"You okay, Frau?"
"Yeah, just... yeah." Edwige took a breath then began to pull from the dark spaces, rhythmically chanting a quick spell as she smoothed the salve over the wound. A flare of light filled the spaces, the salve turned from a bloodied-green to a purple. The darkness around the wound lessened.
"Neat trick," one of the medics mumbled.
"After... after another incident I've been trying to find a treatment," Edwige answered, her voice shaky. The tears just wouldn't stop! "This is as close as I've been able to get. The wound should be easier to treat now. You'll need a Healer."
Bernard pulled her close, giving her shoulders a rub. "You think he has Dario already?"
"Yes."
"Then we better get a move on, Frau."
Edwige murmured an acknowledgement as Bernard helped her get her pack together. The medics lifted the wounded man and ran down the hall into the castle.
"I hope the fighting has let up," she said.
Bernard's gaze went over hers and to the doors. "Most of it has. The halls weren't as crowded as when we went down."
"Who's winning?" Because someone always did, even when everybody lost.
"Akemi."
"Good."
Bernard turned to the knights at the door. "You!"
They snapped to attention. "Check the lab for Dario Fassnacht."
One took off down the hall at a dead run. The others waited expectantly. Seemed they had some new allies.
Bernard turned to Edwige. "Can you keep going?"
"Yes."
"Okay, Frau."
Edwige shouldered her pack and they began their way down the hall. The other knights fell into step behind them. The fear Edwige had been trying to keep at bay settled in her stomach. They were all after Nootau. With his attack on one of their men, how would they retaliate?
The door at the end of the hall opened, the knight yelled out, "Dario ist nicht hier. Sie sagen, Sigmund hat ihn zu Dr. Bellamy gebracht."
"What was that?" Edwige asked.
Bernard frowned. "Looks like we're taking another trip down below."
"That doesn't sound good."
"I don' know what Dr. Bellamy has in connection with Dario, but if he does, it's no' good, Frau." Bernard glanced over at the other knights. "Die Hälfte von Ihnen kommt zu Bellamys Büro. Der Rest von euch wird mir helfen, ein Zimmer für Zimmer suchen. Nimm den walker lebendig, wenn du kannst. Er könnte wie Sigmund aussehen. Er könnte ein Algonquin sein."
The men and women stiffened and looked at Edwige. Dread pooled with the fear in her stomach. Their eyes had lit with an anger she'd seen a few times. None of them ended well. The knights nodded then followed Edwige and Bernard to the elevator by the lab. Gods. That couldn't be good. All of them crowded in, making the space feel more like a coffin then a mode of transportation. Edwige certainly hoped they weren't about to walk into more fighting.
When the door binged open again, they were met with an empty corridor.
"Thank the Gods," Edwige mumbled, getting a few agreements from the knights.
Two paired off and took the hall at a jog.
"Where—" began Edwige, but Bernard cut her off.
"Dr. Bellamy's."
Gods Above and Mother Earth Below, please let Nootau not be there.
The two remaining knights stayed three steps behind them. Edwige tried to not think about them and concentrated on what she felt. The dark spaces pulled her forward. Anger. Fear. Sadness. Excitement. A vast emptiness where Nootau should be. The traces of energy thrummed against her. She followed the void. Edwige's heart hammered expectantly.
Please. Not now. She couldn't lose Nootau after everything they'd been through.
Edwige stopped in front of a plain door. A sign next to it read "Konferenzraum 1."
"What is it?"
"A conference room."
"He's here."
"Okay." Bernard moved him and Edwige to the sides of the door, a knight behind each of them. All of them had their swords out. The two men didn't hold them as comfortably as Bernard did and Edwige wondered what that meant.
A muffled sound like a shout made its way through the door.
"Now!"
Bernard threw open the door and stepped through. The muffled noise became cries, a man's cries. Edwige sped into the room. A horrific scene before her took a minute to process. The blood. The mangled man before her. He'd been Dario once, but no light shone from his eyes any more. The man was dead, dead, dead. Cuts criss-crossed his skin. Ears gone. Half his fingers gone. His lips flapped a little too easily. Bruises adorned his neck and burst veins covered his face.
Vomiting nearly happened. Edwige hunched over, slapped a hand to her mouth, and did her best to not toss her cookies. Gods. Dario certainly hadn't had an easy death.
The two knights rushed into the room, immediately veering to Dario and Edwige. She waved off the help and turned her attention to Nootau and Bernard. The knights hovered over their dead comrade, talking in hushed german. Both of them angled toward The standoff by the conference table.
Bernard had his sword up and dagger out. "Put the weapon down."
Blood covered Nootau. Dario's blood. Maybe some of his own. He didn't look like himself. Well, he looked like the guard from the hall upstairs, but his eyes. Nootau's beautiful soul wasn't in them. Not like the when he'd been the Firedrake. Or even when he'd skin-shared with the other guard. Edwige been able to see, to feel Nootau inside.
Now there was nothing. A void.
Please let there be something. She had to get closer.
"I say again, put the—"
Nootau lunged forward with a yell. Dagger first.
Bernard parried the blow easy, knocking Nootau on the back with the flat of his sword. Nootau stumbled forward but quickly got his feet under him. They circled each other, both men looking deadly.
"Nootau, please," Edwige said, moving closer to the pair.
Bernard waved her back. "Edwige no!"
Nootau stilled. His foreign body rigid and tense. Edwige willed him to look back, to see her, but he didn't turn around. The standstill between him and Bernard continued. A step to the left. A couple to the right. Both men swaying. Each of them armed. Testing. A step forward. One in retreat.
The other knights stood guard at the opposite end of the conference table. Both of them had their weapons out. Ready and waiting. Their scowls said what they'd do to Nootau if he went in their direction.
Please. No.
There had to be a way to stop the fight. Somehow. The man before Edwige might not look like Nootau, or even be acting like him, and she may not be able to feel Nootau, but she wouldn't give up. Couldn't. Maybe if she was a little bit closer. She took another step.
Bernard scowled and gave a barely perceptible shake of the head. He had managed to get Nootau in a bad spot. Stuck between the conference table and the wall. He could run around the table and run into the other knights, or he would have to face Bernard. Nootau had no place to run. The tension his shoulders, the way he held himself in a defensive crouch, indicated he knew it too.
"Nootau, please," Edwige called out. "Please, put the dagger down."
There was a split second where Nootau's arm lowered, like he was actually considering it. But then he did the unexpected. Nootau jumped onto the table and slid across, right into Edwige. He tumbled down on top of her.
The sane thing to do was to push him off. Sane being the key word. What Edwige did know is she loved. And her love was all she had to fight with. So instead of pushing away, Edwige held on.
"Please," she said, pressing her mouth against his ear. "Please."
Nootau stiffened, his body stilling.
Edwige took it on faith he wouldn't hurt her. Seemed she was right. She pressed through the dark spaces. Hoping. Searching. Pleading for some kind of spark that said "This is Nootau!" The void felt endless. Thorny. Angry. On Edwige pushed, ignoring the shouts from the panicking knights. Tuning out the footsteps. The hard industrial carpet pressed against her back. Nootau pressed against her front. Trapped. Edwige was trapped between them.
"Nootau," she said, releasing a shuddering breath.
Love. She had to love. Now wasn't a time to be scared. Edwige pushed all the love she had for Nootau into the dark spaces between them, filling the void.
A gasp escaped him, and he started jerking violently. Curses fell from Nootau's mouth.
Voices rose around them.
Edwige held on tighter. Pushing. Fighting. Searching for the spark she recognized as Nootau.
Shadow fell over them.
"I love you, Nootau."
A shout came from him, louder this time. Nootau convulsed. His movements made it hard to hold onto him but she did. Edwige wouldn't let go. Never. She would never leave Nootau alone. Because it was the thing he feared the most.
"I love you," Edwige said again.
The scream from Nootau was painful. It hurt her heart to feel him so confused, so angry, so wounded. But in the swirling mist of misery and confusion a spark lit. A small one. Tired and faded. Pulsing with languid beats. But it was there, huddled in the dark, lost and confused. Her love.
"Oh, Nootau." The relief of finding him again nearly drowned her. Edwige pushed her love around the spark, gathering it close, feeding it her warmth.
A voice broke through the space. Harsh and filled with fury. "Was macht Sie?"
"Versuche, ihn zu retten," Bernard responded. The shadows got closer.
"Das ist ein Spiel zu verlieren."
"Könnte sein. Vielleicht nicht für Edwige," Bernard replied. Too almost anyone, it sounded like his normal drawl. But to Edwige it was a warning.
Edwige cried out as she yanked the spark against her. She poured everything she ever felt for Nootau into it. Her love. Her frustration. The way he made her smile. How he could make her laugh. Her tears. Her will for him to live.
"Edwige! It's too much!" Bernard shouted.
"Not yet!" she yelled back, holding onto Nootau. He shouted, kicked, and jerked against her, connecting more than once with a blow.
"Edwige! You'll burn up!" Bernard circled into her view, putting himself between her and the other knights.
Not good. "Not yet!"
The spark pulsed with energy then for a fraction of a second burned brighter than the sun and stars.
Edwige cried out—victorious, and in pain. Her distraction cost her. Nootau managed to push away from her. She panted hard, deep breaths. Nootau. She needed to get to Nootau. Edwige pushed up onto her knees, trying to track her wayward lover.
Crushing frustration welled up inside her as she found him facing Bernard, dagger still in hand. But, and there was a but, his stance was no longer so sure, so petulant or so defiant. He rocked back and forth, a twitch in his hands.
"Don't hurt him!" Edwige yelled.
The two men jumped, turning toward her. Edwige used the table to help pull herself up. The void was gone. Yes, blackness swirled around Nootau, but he was not lost. Not to Edwige.
"Nootau, the dagger," she said, taking a step forward.
Confusion swirled beneath the surface of his eyes. He glanced down at the dagger, looked back up at her, then took a step forward.
The knights yelled, charging forward. Edwige's worst nightmare happening before her eyes. Bernard swung around, blocking one knight with his sword and tripping up the other. He still managed to get a good swing in, catching Nootau. Scarlet rose from his skin, followed by a roar as a dagger punch through his abdomen. Nootau rabbit punched the knight, knocking him down then backpedaled toward Edwige. He swung around, his eyes dark and scared. Recognition wasn't there. Nootau didn't see her. He lunged, striking out.
"Aah!" Fire ignited across Edwige's chest. Red hot. Matching the color bleeding through her orange blouse. Her head buzzed. Her fingers were wet. Canvased in blood. "Ah! Ah. Aaah."
"Edwige!" Bernard tossed back the knight, yelling at him,. He grabbed the other trying to get to his feet and tossed him toward the other. "Steh auf!"
The knights didn't try pressing forward again.
Nootau stood in front of her with a slack jaw and open mouth. Tears streamed down his face. His shoulders jerked to and fro. His hands too. Then he took a step back, shaking his head. The dagger still buried inside him. Then another step. He mouth worked but no sound came out. Nootau yanked at the dagger stuck in his gut, a sick "pop" as he managed to get it out.
"It's okay," Edwige said, her voice tranquil and calm despite the circumstances. "It's okay, you didn't mean to."
A high-pitched cry erupted from Nootau. He used his free hand and pulled at the pants he wore.
He's trying to get them off. Which meant he was going to try and remove the skin-share. The jerky movements. The roar of frustration. Those meant bad things too. But not in the same way as before. They were bad for Nootau.
He's going to do it wrong. Again.
His dagger went up the moment he got the fly open and pants pushed down.
"No!" Edwige reached out, but stumbled, falling to her knees.
The unmistakable sound of flesh being ripped by metal filled the room. A cry of pain pierced her heart. Agony, pure and simple. No pain in the world could compare at that moment. Nootau's cries were of a wounded soul in the deepest pit of despair.
"It's okay," she said, hiccuping. Exhausted and scared. The tears still fell, though. She could see parts of her lover coming back to her.
Colors. Shapes. Skin. Eyes. All of them changed as his body fought with itself. Desperate to change, but the skin-share hadn't gotten fully removed.
"You're going to be okay," Edwige repeated.
Nootau dove toward her. Edwige opened her arms, only to cry out when he pulled up and swung around. He charged Bernard, catching him off guard. Dagger clanged against sword as Bernard barely had time to defend himself. Nootau howled, advancing with every furious cut.
On the defensive, Bernard parried and thrust. Some of those moves cutting Nootau. But they did not slow him. In fact, he pressed harder. One swing from Bernard's dagger caught Nootau in the chest.
"No!" Edwige cried out. She reached, pushed herself up, and stumbled forward. "Stop!"
The slurpy thwack of the dagger coming out of Nootau chilled her to the bone. Not because of the blood sprayed, red blood staining Nootau. But because of the joyous laughter that followed. Nootau's laughter.
It made both Bernard and Edwige stop.
Nootau dropped to his knees, one hand still raised with the dagger. He looked up at Bernard and let out a raspy breath. "Kill me."
Bernard didn't respond. Had Nootau said what Edwige thought he said?
"Kill me, please," Nootau said again. Another wheezy breath followed. Half his head had long black hair, the part fighting as blond changed to black back to blond again. His left hand was no longer white but his beautiful deep bronze skin.
"No!" Edwige shouted.
Bernard's focus drifted from Nootau to her. A troubled expression wore deep into his face.
"Don't do it," she begged as Nootau laughed again.
He swiped at Bernard with his dagger. "Kill me! Kill me! Flame burns my soul. Kill me!"
"No!" Edwige screamed.
"I can't." Nootau coughed, blood splattered across Bernard's pants. He clawed at the skin, tearing at it. "I can't. Kill me. Please."
"Cut the skin-share! It's him! He's fought it!" Edwige demanded and took another step closer to her love. She used the table to help push her along. Droplets of red pitter-pattered against the wood. "Cut the skin-share!"
"Kill me! Please!" Nootau's voice broke as he begged. His head fell forward. His body swayed. One hand pulled at the skin share, ripping more of it away from his hip. "Kill me. I'm a dead man anyway."
Bernard's dagger rose above his head. The silver metal glinted in the shine of the office lights. And then it came down.
Edwige leaped toward Nootau. "Stop!"
"Names? You want to give us names yet?" they asked as they licked up Dario's jaw. How glorious the hellion's pit. Gratitude made the moment fuzzy and unclear.
"Yes!" he wailed. "Please. Stop!"
Damn. And they had just really started enjoying themselves.
"There's a-ah! Eli Johnson!" Dario panted between syllables, his breath choppy and short. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripping down to mix with the blood. Another shudder wracked his body. "And Carl White! I have more names, but they're in an address book at home. In a safe!"
"What a good boy." They kissed his forehead. "Anyone else important you want to mention?"
"The main guy doesn't work in the camp. He's from the Menominee."
"What?" Nootau roared. He stood up, kicking Dario away. No.
His broken cry fell on Nootau's deaf ears. Blood pulsed through his veins while rage curled around his chilled heart. The two sensations warred as Nootau tried to come to terms with how someone from his family would sell the walkers.
Who would ever sell out their own? Not his family.
Greed.
Revenge.
It's all about power, walker. Who has it?
"Who?" Nootau asked, stalking over to Dario and kneeling next him. The asshole had thought he could crawl away while Nootau had gotten distracted. He yanked up on Dario's hair. Shouldn't let that resistance pass, walker.
Pain etched lines into Dario's face. Blood trailed after him. His breath came out choppy.
"Who from the Menominee?"
Dario's harsh breathing stuttered and his puffed up eyes closed.
"Who!" They shook Dario's head.
The broken laughter was unexpected. They stopped their attack and pushed Dario onto his back. The asshole sneered, raspy breathes going in and out as he breathed.
"You know him."
The conviction behind Dario's statement cut them. Cut Nootau.
"That's why—" Dario gasped. "You're so angry. You're Menominee."
They slashed with the dagger. A howl erupted from Dario, but it did little to soothe the storm inside them. They needed more. The blood wasn't enough. They could never be satisfied, not when the blackness could cover every single bit of the world.
"Waban!" Dario shouted as he cradled his side. "His n-name is Waaaa-ban!"
Nootau froze. Of all the people to betray him. "Liar!"
"I swear to the Gods Above and Mother Earth below, the name is Waban."
But why hadn't Waban warned Dario?
The cranky old medicine man knew Nootau had gone looking for answers. He might have left Waban with a few bruises and cuts, but the old man hadn't been hurt enough to not send out any warnings.
Old bastard probably thought you'd never find anything.
Or ran to cover his own hide, walker. Like any of you know what loyalty means.
Slick with blood and sweat, and out-of-breath, Nootau collapsed to his hands and knees. So much weight held him down. He couldn't get enough air. Blackened slime coated all of his spirit. The sludge repulsive and hard to fight.
"Waban played you for a fool, soul stealer."
It took a moment to realize Dario had said that, not them.
"All of you, walkers, idiots." Dario smiled then coughed up some blood. "Every one of you filthy beasts deserves what you get."
They shuffled over to the asshole, breathing just as hard as Dario. Blood for blood.
"Foolish, walker," Dario sang out in a nasally voice and laughed. "Pathetic, walker. Filthy beast of turd. Waban fucked you, sold you, and played you for the fool."
They swung their leg back and brought it back with a satisfying thwack. A wail erupted from Dario. They kicked again and again. Each time more thrilling, more pleasing, just more. They craved more.
Sitting on top of Dario, pinning him down, felt good. The trapped 'rabbit' shivered underneath him.
"Idiot," Dario spat.
"Possibly," they admitted before wiping off the bloody saliva.
"Waban was right to sell you, walkers. Animals, all of you."
They slid the hands over Dario's chest and up to his face.
"I still regret he couldn't get that one out to us." Dario let out a strained laugh, forcing a smile. "What was his name?"
They stroked over Dario's Adam's apple and watched as it bobbed. Their heart pounded with giddy anticipation. To have Dario's frighten body tremble beneath them, and to know it was because of his fear, his rage, against them. And to know he was powerless against them. They had already won.
Dario just didn't know it yet.
Hope still lingered in his gaze. Hope. Such a fragile emotion. A dangerous one. They understood how easily it could break. And more than anything, they wanted to break Dario's. Luckily they knew how.
"Aah," Dario said. "His name was Ahanu. Did you know him?"
The words were a slap in the face, knocking Nootau back.
"Ohh, you did. You knew that worthless piece of walker trash."
Rage, pure and simple fury, lit inside him. And they gloried as the storm inside Nootau rolled over him, thundering and cracking every bit left of him apart. Leaving nothing but a void filled with a deep-seated need for vengeance.
For blood. For death.
They slid their hands around to Dario's collar bones then up against his neck as the dead man spewed hateful remarks, too belligerent to notice death cozying up to him.
* * * * *
Swords clanged together as the opposing forces clashed. The fighting had managed to make in into the underground labs, but not as far as the hospital. Edwige wished she knew how to tell the different forces apart, but they seemed to know. How, she'd have to ask that question later. It was all she could do to keep up with Bernard while staying out of everyone's way.
Hands grabbed at her, tried to pull her back, but Edwige managed to dance and slid out of their holds.
"How much farther?" she yelled.
"If we can get to the elevator, the upper floors should be in lockdown. Shouldn't be anyone there to stop us."
"Are the elevators even moving?"
"Yes!" Bernard grunted, parried a sword then stepped into his attackers personal space and punched the man in the face. A pop was followed by a gush of blood from the man's nose. Their attacker's attention briefly wavered for that fraction of a second, allowing Bernard to slap him across the face, followed with a quick kick to his stomach, and knock him down.
"Why are they moving?" Edwige asked. "Shouldn't they be stopped?"
"Tactical decision, Frau," Bernard shouted over his shoulder. "Anyone with de appropriate badge can go up or down. Problem is, we don't know who is on what side, that means shutting the elevators down makes it longer to get to our people too."
Which meant more injuries, more pain, possibly more death.
"'Sides, most of us 'ave been trained to breached those elevator passages."
"So not much of a point in stopping them then?"
"Got it in one, Frau."
Edwige nodded and side-stepped to her left, avoiding a grabby hand. Bernard struck at the arm attached to said grabby hand with his dagger, hitting true. The person howled and drew back. They pushed through a knot of knights, bursting in front of the elevators. Bernard laughed and pushed the button.
"Keep them off us!" he yelled back to the knot, getting a roar of affirmatives. He sheathed his sword and dagger.
"Now let's hope the wrong people don' join us."
"Yes." Preferably no one.
The door chimed open. Empty. A rush of relief overwhelmed Edwige but they rushed forward. Bernard jabbed the button for the main floor. She only had a moment to collect herself before the elevator jerked and brought them to the main castle.
The stillness in the halls befuddled Edwige.
"We were fighting for our lives twenty seconds ago."
Bernard nodded. "Ja, Frau."
"This is... " Edwige didn't have the words for it.
"Surreal?"
"Yes," she replied as they walked through the castle.
A few people glanced in their direction but no one seemed particularly alarmed. They should be alarmed. Didn't they understand what was happening? Edwige observed the different humans and Beings as they walked by, noticing how she caught the corner of their eyes. Awareness of an underlying tension in those looks trickled in.
Alarm wasn't the right word. No. Interest, maybe. But why interest? Confusion must have shown on Edwige's face because Bernard spoke up.
"They're waiting."
Edwige glanced up. "For what?"
"To see which side wins, Frau."
Gods Above. Her heart clenched. How... cold. Much like the gray stone surrounding them. Did the people who work here forget the warmth thus making them forget their humanity? Edwige was beginning to suspect so.
"Come. We have to find your third." Bernard led them toward the hall leading to the Aerospace labs.
When they arrived in the hall there was a small commotion by a stairwell. A heavy metal door stood open. Medics were carrying out an unconscious naked man with a white sheet draped over him precariously on a stretcher while several knights were stationed at the door. Bernard dropped a hand to his dagger before calling out to them.
"Was ist passiert?"
The knights looked up, their hands dropping to their swords.
A beautiful dryad replied, "Wir wissen es nicht. Jenson hörte etwas Stöhnen und kam zur Untersuchung. Er fand Sigmund so..."
A few curious glances went beyond Bernard to Edwige. She couldn't tell if that meant they were involved or not. Bernard still had his hand on the pommel of his dagger.
"Ist er verletzt?" Bernard said as the medics passed by them.
A red stain on the sheet caught Edwige's attention. But more than that, she felt something she wished she hadn't. "Stop!"
They did so immediately. Whether from shock or because the medics understood her, she didn't know. Edwige reached out with a shaky hand and pulled the sheet up. No one made a move to stop her so she figured that meant the other knights weren't actively working against them.
What she saw nearly broke Edwige's heart. She swallowed back the cry she wanted to let out. Forced herself to really look. A huge section of skin had been cut from the man's hip area. Not done neatly either. The jagged wound bleed while the sides had clots building up.
"Oh no." Edwige slid her pack off her shoulders and yanked it open. A few bottles clanked hard together as she searched for the draft she put together for such an occasion.
"What's wrong, Frau?" Bernard put a hand to her back. "The medics can—"
"Nootau," she forced out. Where was the damn jar? "This was him."
A pause followed before Bernard said, "You sure, Frau?"
"Yes!" she yelled, barely holding in a sob. A tear fell. The jar! Another tear streaked down her cheek. She pulled it out but couldn't get the top off the salve. "This will help the injury."
A large, warm hand wrapped around hers. Bernard spoke softly as he took the jar from her. "Lemme, Frau. I can do it. Don' you worry."
Edwige let the bottle go as another sob threatened to break loose. She pushed it back, helping the medics get the man onto the floor. Bernard twisted off the top with a pop. Minty tones immediately sprung up and infused the air. She dipped her fingers in, took a liberal amount of the salve, and knelt down.
A moan escaped the man, which was quickly followed by a tremor.
"Oooh, Nootau, what did you do?" she whispered. Those tears kept coming. For the man in front of her, for her third.
"You okay, Frau?"
"Yeah, just... yeah." Edwige took a breath then began to pull from the dark spaces, rhythmically chanting a quick spell as she smoothed the salve over the wound. A flare of light filled the spaces, the salve turned from a bloodied-green to a purple. The darkness around the wound lessened.
"Neat trick," one of the medics mumbled.
"After... after another incident I've been trying to find a treatment," Edwige answered, her voice shaky. The tears just wouldn't stop! "This is as close as I've been able to get. The wound should be easier to treat now. You'll need a Healer."
Bernard pulled her close, giving her shoulders a rub. "You think he has Dario already?"
"Yes."
"Then we better get a move on, Frau."
Edwige murmured an acknowledgement as Bernard helped her get her pack together. The medics lifted the wounded man and ran down the hall into the castle.
"I hope the fighting has let up," she said.
Bernard's gaze went over hers and to the doors. "Most of it has. The halls weren't as crowded as when we went down."
"Who's winning?" Because someone always did, even when everybody lost.
"Akemi."
"Good."
Bernard turned to the knights at the door. "You!"
They snapped to attention. "Check the lab for Dario Fassnacht."
One took off down the hall at a dead run. The others waited expectantly. Seemed they had some new allies.
Bernard turned to Edwige. "Can you keep going?"
"Yes."
"Okay, Frau."
Edwige shouldered her pack and they began their way down the hall. The other knights fell into step behind them. The fear Edwige had been trying to keep at bay settled in her stomach. They were all after Nootau. With his attack on one of their men, how would they retaliate?
The door at the end of the hall opened, the knight yelled out, "Dario ist nicht hier. Sie sagen, Sigmund hat ihn zu Dr. Bellamy gebracht."
"What was that?" Edwige asked.
Bernard frowned. "Looks like we're taking another trip down below."
"That doesn't sound good."
"I don' know what Dr. Bellamy has in connection with Dario, but if he does, it's no' good, Frau." Bernard glanced over at the other knights. "Die Hälfte von Ihnen kommt zu Bellamys Büro. Der Rest von euch wird mir helfen, ein Zimmer für Zimmer suchen. Nimm den walker lebendig, wenn du kannst. Er könnte wie Sigmund aussehen. Er könnte ein Algonquin sein."
The men and women stiffened and looked at Edwige. Dread pooled with the fear in her stomach. Their eyes had lit with an anger she'd seen a few times. None of them ended well. The knights nodded then followed Edwige and Bernard to the elevator by the lab. Gods. That couldn't be good. All of them crowded in, making the space feel more like a coffin then a mode of transportation. Edwige certainly hoped they weren't about to walk into more fighting.
When the door binged open again, they were met with an empty corridor.
"Thank the Gods," Edwige mumbled, getting a few agreements from the knights.
Two paired off and took the hall at a jog.
"Where—" began Edwige, but Bernard cut her off.
"Dr. Bellamy's."
Gods Above and Mother Earth Below, please let Nootau not be there.
The two remaining knights stayed three steps behind them. Edwige tried to not think about them and concentrated on what she felt. The dark spaces pulled her forward. Anger. Fear. Sadness. Excitement. A vast emptiness where Nootau should be. The traces of energy thrummed against her. She followed the void. Edwige's heart hammered expectantly.
Please. Not now. She couldn't lose Nootau after everything they'd been through.
Edwige stopped in front of a plain door. A sign next to it read "Konferenzraum 1."
"What is it?"
"A conference room."
"He's here."
"Okay." Bernard moved him and Edwige to the sides of the door, a knight behind each of them. All of them had their swords out. The two men didn't hold them as comfortably as Bernard did and Edwige wondered what that meant.
A muffled sound like a shout made its way through the door.
"Now!"
Bernard threw open the door and stepped through. The muffled noise became cries, a man's cries. Edwige sped into the room. A horrific scene before her took a minute to process. The blood. The mangled man before her. He'd been Dario once, but no light shone from his eyes any more. The man was dead, dead, dead. Cuts criss-crossed his skin. Ears gone. Half his fingers gone. His lips flapped a little too easily. Bruises adorned his neck and burst veins covered his face.
Vomiting nearly happened. Edwige hunched over, slapped a hand to her mouth, and did her best to not toss her cookies. Gods. Dario certainly hadn't had an easy death.
The two knights rushed into the room, immediately veering to Dario and Edwige. She waved off the help and turned her attention to Nootau and Bernard. The knights hovered over their dead comrade, talking in hushed german. Both of them angled toward The standoff by the conference table.
Bernard had his sword up and dagger out. "Put the weapon down."
Blood covered Nootau. Dario's blood. Maybe some of his own. He didn't look like himself. Well, he looked like the guard from the hall upstairs, but his eyes. Nootau's beautiful soul wasn't in them. Not like the when he'd been the Firedrake. Or even when he'd skin-shared with the other guard. Edwige been able to see, to feel Nootau inside.
Now there was nothing. A void.
Please let there be something. She had to get closer.
"I say again, put the—"
Nootau lunged forward with a yell. Dagger first.
Bernard parried the blow easy, knocking Nootau on the back with the flat of his sword. Nootau stumbled forward but quickly got his feet under him. They circled each other, both men looking deadly.
"Nootau, please," Edwige said, moving closer to the pair.
Bernard waved her back. "Edwige no!"
Nootau stilled. His foreign body rigid and tense. Edwige willed him to look back, to see her, but he didn't turn around. The standstill between him and Bernard continued. A step to the left. A couple to the right. Both men swaying. Each of them armed. Testing. A step forward. One in retreat.
The other knights stood guard at the opposite end of the conference table. Both of them had their weapons out. Ready and waiting. Their scowls said what they'd do to Nootau if he went in their direction.
Please. No.
There had to be a way to stop the fight. Somehow. The man before Edwige might not look like Nootau, or even be acting like him, and she may not be able to feel Nootau, but she wouldn't give up. Couldn't. Maybe if she was a little bit closer. She took another step.
Bernard scowled and gave a barely perceptible shake of the head. He had managed to get Nootau in a bad spot. Stuck between the conference table and the wall. He could run around the table and run into the other knights, or he would have to face Bernard. Nootau had no place to run. The tension his shoulders, the way he held himself in a defensive crouch, indicated he knew it too.
"Nootau, please," Edwige called out. "Please, put the dagger down."
There was a split second where Nootau's arm lowered, like he was actually considering it. But then he did the unexpected. Nootau jumped onto the table and slid across, right into Edwige. He tumbled down on top of her.
The sane thing to do was to push him off. Sane being the key word. What Edwige did know is she loved. And her love was all she had to fight with. So instead of pushing away, Edwige held on.
"Please," she said, pressing her mouth against his ear. "Please."
Nootau stiffened, his body stilling.
Edwige took it on faith he wouldn't hurt her. Seemed she was right. She pressed through the dark spaces. Hoping. Searching. Pleading for some kind of spark that said "This is Nootau!" The void felt endless. Thorny. Angry. On Edwige pushed, ignoring the shouts from the panicking knights. Tuning out the footsteps. The hard industrial carpet pressed against her back. Nootau pressed against her front. Trapped. Edwige was trapped between them.
"Nootau," she said, releasing a shuddering breath.
Love. She had to love. Now wasn't a time to be scared. Edwige pushed all the love she had for Nootau into the dark spaces between them, filling the void.
A gasp escaped him, and he started jerking violently. Curses fell from Nootau's mouth.
Voices rose around them.
Edwige held on tighter. Pushing. Fighting. Searching for the spark she recognized as Nootau.
Shadow fell over them.
"I love you, Nootau."
A shout came from him, louder this time. Nootau convulsed. His movements made it hard to hold onto him but she did. Edwige wouldn't let go. Never. She would never leave Nootau alone. Because it was the thing he feared the most.
"I love you," Edwige said again.
The scream from Nootau was painful. It hurt her heart to feel him so confused, so angry, so wounded. But in the swirling mist of misery and confusion a spark lit. A small one. Tired and faded. Pulsing with languid beats. But it was there, huddled in the dark, lost and confused. Her love.
"Oh, Nootau." The relief of finding him again nearly drowned her. Edwige pushed her love around the spark, gathering it close, feeding it her warmth.
A voice broke through the space. Harsh and filled with fury. "Was macht Sie?"
"Versuche, ihn zu retten," Bernard responded. The shadows got closer.
"Das ist ein Spiel zu verlieren."
"Könnte sein. Vielleicht nicht für Edwige," Bernard replied. Too almost anyone, it sounded like his normal drawl. But to Edwige it was a warning.
Edwige cried out as she yanked the spark against her. She poured everything she ever felt for Nootau into it. Her love. Her frustration. The way he made her smile. How he could make her laugh. Her tears. Her will for him to live.
"Edwige! It's too much!" Bernard shouted.
"Not yet!" she yelled back, holding onto Nootau. He shouted, kicked, and jerked against her, connecting more than once with a blow.
"Edwige! You'll burn up!" Bernard circled into her view, putting himself between her and the other knights.
Not good. "Not yet!"
The spark pulsed with energy then for a fraction of a second burned brighter than the sun and stars.
Edwige cried out—victorious, and in pain. Her distraction cost her. Nootau managed to push away from her. She panted hard, deep breaths. Nootau. She needed to get to Nootau. Edwige pushed up onto her knees, trying to track her wayward lover.
Crushing frustration welled up inside her as she found him facing Bernard, dagger still in hand. But, and there was a but, his stance was no longer so sure, so petulant or so defiant. He rocked back and forth, a twitch in his hands.
"Don't hurt him!" Edwige yelled.
The two men jumped, turning toward her. Edwige used the table to help pull herself up. The void was gone. Yes, blackness swirled around Nootau, but he was not lost. Not to Edwige.
"Nootau, the dagger," she said, taking a step forward.
Confusion swirled beneath the surface of his eyes. He glanced down at the dagger, looked back up at her, then took a step forward.
The knights yelled, charging forward. Edwige's worst nightmare happening before her eyes. Bernard swung around, blocking one knight with his sword and tripping up the other. He still managed to get a good swing in, catching Nootau. Scarlet rose from his skin, followed by a roar as a dagger punch through his abdomen. Nootau rabbit punched the knight, knocking him down then backpedaled toward Edwige. He swung around, his eyes dark and scared. Recognition wasn't there. Nootau didn't see her. He lunged, striking out.
"Aah!" Fire ignited across Edwige's chest. Red hot. Matching the color bleeding through her orange blouse. Her head buzzed. Her fingers were wet. Canvased in blood. "Ah! Ah. Aaah."
"Edwige!" Bernard tossed back the knight, yelling at him,. He grabbed the other trying to get to his feet and tossed him toward the other. "Steh auf!"
The knights didn't try pressing forward again.
Nootau stood in front of her with a slack jaw and open mouth. Tears streamed down his face. His shoulders jerked to and fro. His hands too. Then he took a step back, shaking his head. The dagger still buried inside him. Then another step. He mouth worked but no sound came out. Nootau yanked at the dagger stuck in his gut, a sick "pop" as he managed to get it out.
"It's okay," Edwige said, her voice tranquil and calm despite the circumstances. "It's okay, you didn't mean to."
A high-pitched cry erupted from Nootau. He used his free hand and pulled at the pants he wore.
He's trying to get them off. Which meant he was going to try and remove the skin-share. The jerky movements. The roar of frustration. Those meant bad things too. But not in the same way as before. They were bad for Nootau.
He's going to do it wrong. Again.
His dagger went up the moment he got the fly open and pants pushed down.
"No!" Edwige reached out, but stumbled, falling to her knees.
The unmistakable sound of flesh being ripped by metal filled the room. A cry of pain pierced her heart. Agony, pure and simple. No pain in the world could compare at that moment. Nootau's cries were of a wounded soul in the deepest pit of despair.
"It's okay," she said, hiccuping. Exhausted and scared. The tears still fell, though. She could see parts of her lover coming back to her.
Colors. Shapes. Skin. Eyes. All of them changed as his body fought with itself. Desperate to change, but the skin-share hadn't gotten fully removed.
"You're going to be okay," Edwige repeated.
Nootau dove toward her. Edwige opened her arms, only to cry out when he pulled up and swung around. He charged Bernard, catching him off guard. Dagger clanged against sword as Bernard barely had time to defend himself. Nootau howled, advancing with every furious cut.
On the defensive, Bernard parried and thrust. Some of those moves cutting Nootau. But they did not slow him. In fact, he pressed harder. One swing from Bernard's dagger caught Nootau in the chest.
"No!" Edwige cried out. She reached, pushed herself up, and stumbled forward. "Stop!"
The slurpy thwack of the dagger coming out of Nootau chilled her to the bone. Not because of the blood sprayed, red blood staining Nootau. But because of the joyous laughter that followed. Nootau's laughter.
It made both Bernard and Edwige stop.
Nootau dropped to his knees, one hand still raised with the dagger. He looked up at Bernard and let out a raspy breath. "Kill me."
Bernard didn't respond. Had Nootau said what Edwige thought he said?
"Kill me, please," Nootau said again. Another wheezy breath followed. Half his head had long black hair, the part fighting as blond changed to black back to blond again. His left hand was no longer white but his beautiful deep bronze skin.
"No!" Edwige shouted.
Bernard's focus drifted from Nootau to her. A troubled expression wore deep into his face.
"Don't do it," she begged as Nootau laughed again.
He swiped at Bernard with his dagger. "Kill me! Kill me! Flame burns my soul. Kill me!"
"No!" Edwige screamed.
"I can't." Nootau coughed, blood splattered across Bernard's pants. He clawed at the skin, tearing at it. "I can't. Kill me. Please."
"Cut the skin-share! It's him! He's fought it!" Edwige demanded and took another step closer to her love. She used the table to help push her along. Droplets of red pitter-pattered against the wood. "Cut the skin-share!"
"Kill me! Please!" Nootau's voice broke as he begged. His head fell forward. His body swayed. One hand pulled at the skin share, ripping more of it away from his hip. "Kill me. I'm a dead man anyway."
Bernard's dagger rose above his head. The silver metal glinted in the shine of the office lights. And then it came down.
Edwige leaped toward Nootau. "Stop!"
 Ashe: Who's been wanting a nice fly but this wasn't what he had in mind |  Jaxx: Who believes the simplest solutions are the best sometimes |
Chapter Thirty-Three: Ashe
I Told You It Would Come In Handy
Jaxx strained to move as Dr. Cooper came around the far side of his desk. Sweat beading his brow, and he stared helplessly at Ashe, suspended over the man’s desk.
Light glimmered off Cooper’s knife blade as Jaxx struggled to move, even an inch.
The stone that cast the stasis spell had a radius of five feet. That gave him just a hair’s-breadth of a chance.
Fortunately he had a good throwing arm.
As Cooper passed the desk, the paralysis that held Jaxx lessened just for a second in his left arm. Now. He took full advantage of the reprieve, scooping up the snow globe and throwing it squarely at Dr. Cooper’s face.
The man yelled and threw up his arms to block it, and the glowing stone went flying out of his hands to skid across the floor and underneath the desk.
The snow globe smashed into the wall, sending bits of glass and water and fake snow into the air.
Ashe, freed from the stasis spell, slammed into the chair where Cooper had been.
Jaxx launched himself at Cooper before the man could recover, pushing him hard against a bookshelf and launching a flurry of leather-bound books into the air to join the general chaos.
Cooper’s fiery wings manifested themselves, setting fire to the wooden shelves and sending Jaxx staggering backward against the desk.
Ashe regained his footing and glared at Cooper warily across the corner of the desk, his own wings blazing. “How about we make this a fair fight?” There was fire in his eyes too. Jaxx had never seen that before.
“As you wish.” Cooper launched himself at Ashe, knife still in hand.
Ashe dodged the blade and Cooper reached the window. He flung it open and turned to throw the knife back at Ashe.
Ashe dodged it, and it embedded itself in the wooden door.
Then Cooper was gone over the edge of the faux balcony railing.
Ashe looked back at Jaxx, his eyes wild.
“Go!” Jaxx shouted. “Bring him down!”
Ashe nodded and launched himself after the doctor.
Jaxx ran to the window and stared out over the lake, as Ashe chased down the man who had wreaked such ruin on his family.
He was glad he wasn’t Cooper.
* * * * *
Ashe took fully to the air—no one to hold him back, just the sky above reflected in the lake waters below.
It was late in the day, and Cooper’s own burning wings glowed crimson in the dimming light, calling Ashe like a beacon.
All this time, all of his pain, the long, twisting road from the deserts of Southern Arizona to Switzerland… it all came down to this moment.
His powerful wings pulled him upward after Cooper. He was still a little sore from his injury, but he pushed through it. The man was at least twenty years older than Ashe—he couldn’t keep ahead for long.
Cooper must have known it. He turned back toward the castle, perhaps seeking help or a safe haven.
Ashe couldn’t allow it. He was too close to the end. He redoubled his efforts, his wings beating against the air as he strained to pull himself closer to Cooper.
About a hundred feet from the castle wall, he caught up with the man at last, ramming into Cooper from behind under his wings and grabbing the man around the waist. If he could get Cooper down to the water, his wings would be extinguished and his flight options would be greatly reduced.
Tethered to one another, they began to fall, the air screaming past them, the combined flames of their wings fanned by the wind and making them into a fiery comet.
Cooper twisted and tried to beat at Ashe’s arms with his fists.
Ashe held him tight as they plummeted toward the water. He wasn’t getting away. Not if Ashe had a single breath left in his lungs.
“Get off me!” Cooper shouted. “You’re crazy! You’ll kill us both!”
“Not my plan.” Ashe spread his wings to slow their descent slightly, but they still hit the water at a good speed. His legs entered first, then his torso, and as his wings touched the water, they set off a fierce boil, sending a huge cloud of steam into the sky.
He dropped down, down, down into the depths.
* * * * *
Jaxx saw the two phoenixes fall from the sky, plunging rapidly toward the water in a tumbling blaze of orange flame.
At that speed, one or both of them might be killed by the impact with the water.
“Ashe!” he called out as the pair fell.
Jaxx turned and scooped up his pack and ran out of the room.
* * * * *
Ashe plunged down and down, his flames snuffed out. His wings retreated into his back.
The cold of the water shocked the air out of his lungs, and he struggled to claw his way back to the surface. It seemed to take an eternity, pulling himself up toward the light, but at last he reached the air, bursting above the water to take a ragged breath.
He treaded water, looking around wildly. He was about fifty feet from the shoreline. Cooper was already swimming toward it, his wet wings vanishing into his own back. If the man reached the water’s edge with enough lead time, he might be able to dry himself off and take to the sky again.
Ashe’s shoes were weighing him down. He treaded water and eased them off his feet, letting them float away, and then set off after Cooper. Thank God his father had taught him how to swim when he was young, even though he’d hated every minute of it.
The other phoenix was clearly struggling now, his strokes slowing, but he still managed to reach the shore a few seconds ahead of Ashe. He pulled himself out of the water, dripping wet, and sprinted along the castle wall toward the labs.
Ashe got out of the lake, shivering, and ran after him, hard on his heels.
Ashe caught him in the long grass he’d crawled through earlier with Jaxx. He launched himself at Cooper, bringing the man down.
Where was Jaxx?
They tumbled beak over toe together through the rough patch of vegetation, clawing at one another as they fought. Ashe scored a long gash across Cooper’s back.
They broke apart, and Ashe fought for breath. The man was surprisingly strong for his age.
Cooper snarled and jumped him again, a fire in his eyes.
They rolled toward the garage as the sky spun past overhead. They came to a halt with a smack against the side of the building.
Ashe realized woozily that the smack had been his own head. He reached up and touched his hand to the back of his head.
It came back wet with blood.
* * * * *
Cooper stood up shakily over him with a big rock in his hands. "I'm sorry it has to end like this," he said, shaking his head. “I truly am. It would have been nice to have another phoenix on the team." He lifted the rock up high.
Ashe reached up as the world shimmered and swayed. “Jaxx, I’m sorry,” he said, and closed his eyes.
There was a thunk and a strangled curse.
Ashe opened his eyes in time to see Cooper collapse to the ground.
Jaxx stood over the man holding the stolen laptop, which now sported a sizable dent. He grinned. ”See? I told you it would come in handy."
Ashe's eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell back into the grass, unconscious.
Light glimmered off Cooper’s knife blade as Jaxx struggled to move, even an inch.
The stone that cast the stasis spell had a radius of five feet. That gave him just a hair’s-breadth of a chance.
Fortunately he had a good throwing arm.
As Cooper passed the desk, the paralysis that held Jaxx lessened just for a second in his left arm. Now. He took full advantage of the reprieve, scooping up the snow globe and throwing it squarely at Dr. Cooper’s face.
The man yelled and threw up his arms to block it, and the glowing stone went flying out of his hands to skid across the floor and underneath the desk.
The snow globe smashed into the wall, sending bits of glass and water and fake snow into the air.
Ashe, freed from the stasis spell, slammed into the chair where Cooper had been.
Jaxx launched himself at Cooper before the man could recover, pushing him hard against a bookshelf and launching a flurry of leather-bound books into the air to join the general chaos.
Cooper’s fiery wings manifested themselves, setting fire to the wooden shelves and sending Jaxx staggering backward against the desk.
Ashe regained his footing and glared at Cooper warily across the corner of the desk, his own wings blazing. “How about we make this a fair fight?” There was fire in his eyes too. Jaxx had never seen that before.
“As you wish.” Cooper launched himself at Ashe, knife still in hand.
Ashe dodged the blade and Cooper reached the window. He flung it open and turned to throw the knife back at Ashe.
Ashe dodged it, and it embedded itself in the wooden door.
Then Cooper was gone over the edge of the faux balcony railing.
Ashe looked back at Jaxx, his eyes wild.
“Go!” Jaxx shouted. “Bring him down!”
Ashe nodded and launched himself after the doctor.
Jaxx ran to the window and stared out over the lake, as Ashe chased down the man who had wreaked such ruin on his family.
He was glad he wasn’t Cooper.
* * * * *
Ashe took fully to the air—no one to hold him back, just the sky above reflected in the lake waters below.
It was late in the day, and Cooper’s own burning wings glowed crimson in the dimming light, calling Ashe like a beacon.
All this time, all of his pain, the long, twisting road from the deserts of Southern Arizona to Switzerland… it all came down to this moment.
His powerful wings pulled him upward after Cooper. He was still a little sore from his injury, but he pushed through it. The man was at least twenty years older than Ashe—he couldn’t keep ahead for long.
Cooper must have known it. He turned back toward the castle, perhaps seeking help or a safe haven.
Ashe couldn’t allow it. He was too close to the end. He redoubled his efforts, his wings beating against the air as he strained to pull himself closer to Cooper.
About a hundred feet from the castle wall, he caught up with the man at last, ramming into Cooper from behind under his wings and grabbing the man around the waist. If he could get Cooper down to the water, his wings would be extinguished and his flight options would be greatly reduced.
Tethered to one another, they began to fall, the air screaming past them, the combined flames of their wings fanned by the wind and making them into a fiery comet.
Cooper twisted and tried to beat at Ashe’s arms with his fists.
Ashe held him tight as they plummeted toward the water. He wasn’t getting away. Not if Ashe had a single breath left in his lungs.
“Get off me!” Cooper shouted. “You’re crazy! You’ll kill us both!”
“Not my plan.” Ashe spread his wings to slow their descent slightly, but they still hit the water at a good speed. His legs entered first, then his torso, and as his wings touched the water, they set off a fierce boil, sending a huge cloud of steam into the sky.
He dropped down, down, down into the depths.
* * * * *
Jaxx saw the two phoenixes fall from the sky, plunging rapidly toward the water in a tumbling blaze of orange flame.
At that speed, one or both of them might be killed by the impact with the water.
“Ashe!” he called out as the pair fell.
Jaxx turned and scooped up his pack and ran out of the room.
* * * * *
Ashe plunged down and down, his flames snuffed out. His wings retreated into his back.
The cold of the water shocked the air out of his lungs, and he struggled to claw his way back to the surface. It seemed to take an eternity, pulling himself up toward the light, but at last he reached the air, bursting above the water to take a ragged breath.
He treaded water, looking around wildly. He was about fifty feet from the shoreline. Cooper was already swimming toward it, his wet wings vanishing into his own back. If the man reached the water’s edge with enough lead time, he might be able to dry himself off and take to the sky again.
Ashe’s shoes were weighing him down. He treaded water and eased them off his feet, letting them float away, and then set off after Cooper. Thank God his father had taught him how to swim when he was young, even though he’d hated every minute of it.
The other phoenix was clearly struggling now, his strokes slowing, but he still managed to reach the shore a few seconds ahead of Ashe. He pulled himself out of the water, dripping wet, and sprinted along the castle wall toward the labs.
Ashe got out of the lake, shivering, and ran after him, hard on his heels.
Ashe caught him in the long grass he’d crawled through earlier with Jaxx. He launched himself at Cooper, bringing the man down.
Where was Jaxx?
They tumbled beak over toe together through the rough patch of vegetation, clawing at one another as they fought. Ashe scored a long gash across Cooper’s back.
They broke apart, and Ashe fought for breath. The man was surprisingly strong for his age.
Cooper snarled and jumped him again, a fire in his eyes.
They rolled toward the garage as the sky spun past overhead. They came to a halt with a smack against the side of the building.
Ashe realized woozily that the smack had been his own head. He reached up and touched his hand to the back of his head.
It came back wet with blood.
* * * * *
Cooper stood up shakily over him with a big rock in his hands. "I'm sorry it has to end like this," he said, shaking his head. “I truly am. It would have been nice to have another phoenix on the team." He lifted the rock up high.
Ashe reached up as the world shimmered and swayed. “Jaxx, I’m sorry,” he said, and closed his eyes.
There was a thunk and a strangled curse.
Ashe opened his eyes in time to see Cooper collapse to the ground.
Jaxx stood over the man holding the stolen laptop, which now sported a sizable dent. He grinned. ”See? I told you it would come in handy."
Ashe's eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell back into the grass, unconscious.
 Mal - always up for a fight but wishing he could have skipped this one  Jariah - who is pretty sure none of this was on the schedule today |  Kaden - who seriously has had enough of firearms, thank you very much  Nidhogg - who is quite displeased that he still doesn't know where Mal is |
Chapter Thirty-three: Mal
Battle of the Aussies
Even though Cynthia was a shifter, Mal had at least a hundred pounds on her. So when he hit they fell back against the wall of books behind them.
Books fell around them as shelves were knocked off their pegs. Cynthia grunted as Mal connected a fist to her gut. He'd never hit a woman before, but wasn't really worried about this case weighing on his conscience too much.
Cynthia obviously hadn't gotten to where she was by standing back and watching. She screamed in fury, which soon turned into a roar as she partially shifted. Not many creature could pull of a partial shift, and Mal had no idea Cynthia was strong enough to pull it off. Before he could react, however he heard the ripping of her clothes as large golden wings sprouted from her back and her hands shifted. He was soon starting at a partially shifted sphynx.
Her claws came out and she swiped at Mal right across his chest. He was just a little too slow in jumping back out of the way. If it wasn't for his leathers, he'd probably be dead. Mal crouched down in a defensive stance as he stared at the creature in front of him. Her hands were large, bigger than any lion's he'd ever seen, sharp wicked looking claws extended from the tips.
"Surprise!" Cynthia said, her voice sounding sweet and almost magical.
Mal scowled at her and pulled his knives, one in each hand. He twisted them around a couple of times as he sized up his new opponent. Mal could hear Kaden panting and groaning behind him, but he couldn't look. He couldn't take his eyes off Cynthia. Mal was well aware he needed to get this fight over and done with so he could get some help for Kaden. At least he knew his way to the medical wing, he just had to finish this and get Kaden there before his wolf lost too much blood.
Cynthia swiped at him again, this time Mal was ready for her and ducked in under her outstretched arm. He flicked his wrist, his sharp blade easily slicing through cloth and skin.
Mal dropped, rolled and sprung to his feet once again outside her reach as Cynthia screamed in pain.
"We can stop this right now, before you get even more hurt, all you have to do is come with me and hand yourself in to Akemi."
"That bitch." Cynthia spat. "Brownnosing little whore. Thinks she knows what's best. She has no idea what it takes to do what we do. The sacrifices needed."
Mal waved around him. "You don't seem to be sacrificing anything, sitting up here in your posh office, giving orders to those below you. It seems innocent people are sacrificing their lives so you all can run your experiments and act like lords over people that don't even know you fucking exist."
"You will be the next in a long line of those who give up their lives to the cause!"
Her large wings beat, lifting her off the ground slightly as she once again attacked Mal. Mal didn't back down. He was running out of time. Instead he hurled himself at Cynthia.
Not expecting the move Cynthia wasn't braced for Mal and the pair crashed to the ground, Cynthia screamed as she hit awkwardly. Mal heard the snapping of bone and couldn't believe he'd broken another wing. Mal would never live this down.
The pain only seemed to enrage Cynthia as she clawed repeatedly at Mal, who was tangled up with her as they rolled around the floor.
There was only so much his leathers could take, soon enough Mal was feeling the bite of claws as they pierced his skin. He wasn't the only one feeling it as his knives sliced at Cynthia. He was very careful not to stab, no matter how much he wanted to.
They upended the desk as they fought, papers scattering everywhere, the computer hit the ground with a shattering noise. Still they continued to fight.
"You're surprisingly capable for a human." Cynthia said through huffing breaths.
"I'm a fucking dragon ranger, bitch! And before that a Ranger for the Australian Army. If I can't best you than I don't deserve either of those titles."
Cynthia laughed at him. Mal bided his time. Her wing hung limply behind her. He didn't feel anywhere near as guilty about breaking this one as he did Ashe's.
Mal finally saw his opportunity and he took it. He ran and leaped up on one of the guest chairs, that had surprisingly survived their path of destruction, from the he threw himself at Cynthia, wrapping his arm around her neck and swinging himself around until he was behind her.
Cynthia fell forward with the unexpected weight on her.
Mal locked his arm around her neck securing it in place with his other arm. He squeezed tightly cutting off her air for a couple of seconds. Her wings made Mal's position behind her very awkward, but now that he had her he wasn't letting go.
Cynthia was gasping for breath and struggling in his grip. Her paws were clawing at his arms, Mal gritted his teeth and held on. Tightening his arms slightly.
"What's so special about your dragon breeding program that people have to die for it?" he hissed at her.
"Fuck….. you." Cynthia said, her paws now hands once again as she struggled to grab Mal's arms and loosen their hold around her neck.
"Fuck me? I don't think so lady. Now tell me!" Mal shock her, her broken wing hit Mal's chest causing Cynthia to gasp.
"You…. Wouldn't…. understand."
Mal loosened his hold on her very slightly. He didn't want her passing out just yet. He had to get answers first. Cynthia gasped as she sucked in large lungful's of air.
Mal looked to the other side of the room and notice Kaden had passed out. He didn't like the large puddle of blood under him. Mal had to get him to the medics and quickly.
"Try me!” he snarled at Cynthia.
"We needed a new breed of dragon that would be susceptible to the nano technology we're developing."
"Why?" Mal asked. "What does it do and what does it have to do with the dragon Rangers?"
"God, do I have to spell it out for you?" she snarled at him as he still struggled to release Mal's arm from around her throat.
"Yes, I don't want there to be any misunderstandings."
"You stupid idiot. We're attempting to make communication between dragons and humans a reality."
Mal stopped dead. Unable to comprehend what he was hearing. Cynthia took his lack of attention as the perfect time to act.
She launched herself up, Mal only just managing to maintain his hold around her neck.
Mal grunted when his back slammed against the ground, Cynthia atop him. He tightened his hold, needing this to be over with now. Cynthia continued to struggle for breath, her hands pulling and scratching at Mal's arms.
He didn't want to kill her, just make her pass out. He needed to get her to Akemi and her guards and he knew she wouldn't come along quietly.
It didn't take long before Cynthia went still in his arms. Mal didn't trust the woman one iota and held on for just a little longer. When he knew for certain she would be out he slowly loosened his hold.
When she didn't move Mal pushed her to the side and quickly scrambled to his feet. He found the phone that had been thrown across the room when the desk had overturned and ripped the cord from the wall and unplugged it from the base of the phone. He then proceeded to tie Cynthia's hands together behind her back, under her wings, which hadn't been able to retract due to the broken appendage.
Mal had no idea how he was going to get Kaden to the medics and Cynthia to the guards. He needed help.
Mal went to the door to the office and opened it, peeking outside.
Down the passage, going from door to door were a half a dozen guards, checking each office. It wouldn't be long before they were at Cynthia's office. Mal didn't know if these were people he could trust or not, until Jariah stepped out of the last office, giving orders to the remaining guards.
Mal could have cried in relief.
"Jariah!" he called out.
The guards all turned as one towards him. Weapons drawn. Even Jariah had her arm raised in his direction, her wrist crossbow loaded and ready to fire at him.
"Wow, calm down guys. I'm on your side here." Mal said as he stepped out of the office, his hands raised.
Jariah grinned at him. "Stand down. He's one of Akemi's motley crew."
Mal didn't know if he should take offence to that or not, but going by the wide grin on Jariah's face she meant no offence.
"I need your help."
"Whatever you need," she said as she made her way to him.
"I need to get Kaden to the medics. Cynthia Papa… whatever her bloody name is shot him and he's lost a lot of blood.
"Where's Cynthia now?" Jariah asked.
"Inside, tied up."
Jariah looked impressed. "You took down a White Stellar Majesty, sphinx shifter on your own?"
"I deal with dragons on a daily basis. This was a piece of cake." It wasn't really. His body ached, and he could feel every last slice to his skin when her claws had made it through his leathers.
Mal led them back inside the office. Cynthia should be coming around soon.
"Go. Take Kaden and get him seen to. We'll take care of this," Jariah said as she motioned some of her men to grab Cynthia.
"If you find my knives, I would greatly appreciate it if you would return them to me," Mal said as he leaned down and checked Kaden for a pulse. It was still there, but very faint. He had to hurry.
"I'll see it done." Jariah assured him.
"Thanks." Mal picked up Kaden, and once the man was secure in his arms he ran from the room.
Books fell around them as shelves were knocked off their pegs. Cynthia grunted as Mal connected a fist to her gut. He'd never hit a woman before, but wasn't really worried about this case weighing on his conscience too much.
Cynthia obviously hadn't gotten to where she was by standing back and watching. She screamed in fury, which soon turned into a roar as she partially shifted. Not many creature could pull of a partial shift, and Mal had no idea Cynthia was strong enough to pull it off. Before he could react, however he heard the ripping of her clothes as large golden wings sprouted from her back and her hands shifted. He was soon starting at a partially shifted sphynx.
Her claws came out and she swiped at Mal right across his chest. He was just a little too slow in jumping back out of the way. If it wasn't for his leathers, he'd probably be dead. Mal crouched down in a defensive stance as he stared at the creature in front of him. Her hands were large, bigger than any lion's he'd ever seen, sharp wicked looking claws extended from the tips.
"Surprise!" Cynthia said, her voice sounding sweet and almost magical.
Mal scowled at her and pulled his knives, one in each hand. He twisted them around a couple of times as he sized up his new opponent. Mal could hear Kaden panting and groaning behind him, but he couldn't look. He couldn't take his eyes off Cynthia. Mal was well aware he needed to get this fight over and done with so he could get some help for Kaden. At least he knew his way to the medical wing, he just had to finish this and get Kaden there before his wolf lost too much blood.
Cynthia swiped at him again, this time Mal was ready for her and ducked in under her outstretched arm. He flicked his wrist, his sharp blade easily slicing through cloth and skin.
Mal dropped, rolled and sprung to his feet once again outside her reach as Cynthia screamed in pain.
"We can stop this right now, before you get even more hurt, all you have to do is come with me and hand yourself in to Akemi."
"That bitch." Cynthia spat. "Brownnosing little whore. Thinks she knows what's best. She has no idea what it takes to do what we do. The sacrifices needed."
Mal waved around him. "You don't seem to be sacrificing anything, sitting up here in your posh office, giving orders to those below you. It seems innocent people are sacrificing their lives so you all can run your experiments and act like lords over people that don't even know you fucking exist."
"You will be the next in a long line of those who give up their lives to the cause!"
Her large wings beat, lifting her off the ground slightly as she once again attacked Mal. Mal didn't back down. He was running out of time. Instead he hurled himself at Cynthia.
Not expecting the move Cynthia wasn't braced for Mal and the pair crashed to the ground, Cynthia screamed as she hit awkwardly. Mal heard the snapping of bone and couldn't believe he'd broken another wing. Mal would never live this down.
The pain only seemed to enrage Cynthia as she clawed repeatedly at Mal, who was tangled up with her as they rolled around the floor.
There was only so much his leathers could take, soon enough Mal was feeling the bite of claws as they pierced his skin. He wasn't the only one feeling it as his knives sliced at Cynthia. He was very careful not to stab, no matter how much he wanted to.
They upended the desk as they fought, papers scattering everywhere, the computer hit the ground with a shattering noise. Still they continued to fight.
"You're surprisingly capable for a human." Cynthia said through huffing breaths.
"I'm a fucking dragon ranger, bitch! And before that a Ranger for the Australian Army. If I can't best you than I don't deserve either of those titles."
Cynthia laughed at him. Mal bided his time. Her wing hung limply behind her. He didn't feel anywhere near as guilty about breaking this one as he did Ashe's.
Mal finally saw his opportunity and he took it. He ran and leaped up on one of the guest chairs, that had surprisingly survived their path of destruction, from the he threw himself at Cynthia, wrapping his arm around her neck and swinging himself around until he was behind her.
Cynthia fell forward with the unexpected weight on her.
Mal locked his arm around her neck securing it in place with his other arm. He squeezed tightly cutting off her air for a couple of seconds. Her wings made Mal's position behind her very awkward, but now that he had her he wasn't letting go.
Cynthia was gasping for breath and struggling in his grip. Her paws were clawing at his arms, Mal gritted his teeth and held on. Tightening his arms slightly.
"What's so special about your dragon breeding program that people have to die for it?" he hissed at her.
"Fuck….. you." Cynthia said, her paws now hands once again as she struggled to grab Mal's arms and loosen their hold around her neck.
"Fuck me? I don't think so lady. Now tell me!" Mal shock her, her broken wing hit Mal's chest causing Cynthia to gasp.
"You…. Wouldn't…. understand."
Mal loosened his hold on her very slightly. He didn't want her passing out just yet. He had to get answers first. Cynthia gasped as she sucked in large lungful's of air.
Mal looked to the other side of the room and notice Kaden had passed out. He didn't like the large puddle of blood under him. Mal had to get him to the medics and quickly.
"Try me!” he snarled at Cynthia.
"We needed a new breed of dragon that would be susceptible to the nano technology we're developing."
"Why?" Mal asked. "What does it do and what does it have to do with the dragon Rangers?"
"God, do I have to spell it out for you?" she snarled at him as he still struggled to release Mal's arm from around her throat.
"Yes, I don't want there to be any misunderstandings."
"You stupid idiot. We're attempting to make communication between dragons and humans a reality."
Mal stopped dead. Unable to comprehend what he was hearing. Cynthia took his lack of attention as the perfect time to act.
She launched herself up, Mal only just managing to maintain his hold around her neck.
Mal grunted when his back slammed against the ground, Cynthia atop him. He tightened his hold, needing this to be over with now. Cynthia continued to struggle for breath, her hands pulling and scratching at Mal's arms.
He didn't want to kill her, just make her pass out. He needed to get her to Akemi and her guards and he knew she wouldn't come along quietly.
It didn't take long before Cynthia went still in his arms. Mal didn't trust the woman one iota and held on for just a little longer. When he knew for certain she would be out he slowly loosened his hold.
When she didn't move Mal pushed her to the side and quickly scrambled to his feet. He found the phone that had been thrown across the room when the desk had overturned and ripped the cord from the wall and unplugged it from the base of the phone. He then proceeded to tie Cynthia's hands together behind her back, under her wings, which hadn't been able to retract due to the broken appendage.
Mal had no idea how he was going to get Kaden to the medics and Cynthia to the guards. He needed help.
Mal went to the door to the office and opened it, peeking outside.
Down the passage, going from door to door were a half a dozen guards, checking each office. It wouldn't be long before they were at Cynthia's office. Mal didn't know if these were people he could trust or not, until Jariah stepped out of the last office, giving orders to the remaining guards.
Mal could have cried in relief.
"Jariah!" he called out.
The guards all turned as one towards him. Weapons drawn. Even Jariah had her arm raised in his direction, her wrist crossbow loaded and ready to fire at him.
"Wow, calm down guys. I'm on your side here." Mal said as he stepped out of the office, his hands raised.
Jariah grinned at him. "Stand down. He's one of Akemi's motley crew."
Mal didn't know if he should take offence to that or not, but going by the wide grin on Jariah's face she meant no offence.
"I need your help."
"Whatever you need," she said as she made her way to him.
"I need to get Kaden to the medics. Cynthia Papa… whatever her bloody name is shot him and he's lost a lot of blood.
"Where's Cynthia now?" Jariah asked.
"Inside, tied up."
Jariah looked impressed. "You took down a White Stellar Majesty, sphinx shifter on your own?"
"I deal with dragons on a daily basis. This was a piece of cake." It wasn't really. His body ached, and he could feel every last slice to his skin when her claws had made it through his leathers.
Mal led them back inside the office. Cynthia should be coming around soon.
"Go. Take Kaden and get him seen to. We'll take care of this," Jariah said as she motioned some of her men to grab Cynthia.
"If you find my knives, I would greatly appreciate it if you would return them to me," Mal said as he leaned down and checked Kaden for a pulse. It was still there, but very faint. He had to hurry.
"I'll see it done." Jariah assured him.
"Thanks." Mal picked up Kaden, and once the man was secure in his arms he ran from the room.
Still dying from poison and would rather not be.
Furious, and about to cause some major trouble.
Is enjoying time with his two husbands, but is slightly concerned over Tibo's and Rolly's lack of communication and whether or not they've finally admitted their feelings or not.
Is enjoying the unexpected time off with his wife. Is also hungry and wondering what's for dinner.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Tibo
Spider's Tower
“You motherfucking bastard!” Tibo lunged across the desk and found a pistol muzzle in his face.
“I am disappointed, of course.” Chumin’s voice hadn’t changed in tone or timbre, still soft and patient while he held Tibo at gunpoint. “But you are young and impulsive. I don’t believe the situation is irretrievable if you stop reacting long enough to think.”
“You just said you’re killing Rolly! There’s no coming back from that!”
“Oh, my dear. My poor dear. Of course there is.” Chumin rose, far steadier and straighter than he had been before. “I can save your Rolly. Give him back to you. I can give you everything you want. Everything. You already have fame and more money than is good for you. But what is it you want Tibo Glent? Hmm? You want the goblin community to accept you, to laud you as a hero. I can give you that. You want your lover’s ancient family to accept you. I can give you that, too. Anything you desire if you tell me the one thing I need now and if you agree to work with me.”
Tibo backed a step, then another, sudden panic clawing its way up from his gut. He wanted to run, to hide, to curl into a ball and sob. “I don’t...how do you know these things? How the fuck could you know?”
Ominous shadows grew behind Chumin, increasing his mass, his overwhelming presence in the room. Visions of flames and smoke, of beloved voices screaming and of futile, anxious flight down darkened hallways filled Tibo’s beleaguered mind. He whimpered, unable to turn his back on the terrible things in front of him, too terrified of what might be behind him to turn around.
“You don’t look well at all, my dear.”
The words were so simple, though could even have been kind, but they slid around him with chill, cruel intent, working under his skin, words too large to be contained in the tower room, blocking out light and sense. Tibo panicked and scrambled for the door, yanking on the handle. The door didn’t budge, didn’t even shake in its frame as he pulled with everything he had, screamed and pounded.
He ended up on the floor curled up against the wood, arms wrapped around his head, crying out in terror at each approaching footstep. The fear made no sense. It was too huge, too sharp, too…
Too fucking overwhelming to be his. That bastard!
If there was one thing in life Tibo knew well, it was fear, and he sure as hell knew his own fear, the shape and the taste of it. This wasn’t his. This was Chumin emolating at him and it pissed Tibo the fuck off. Reaching past his panic, past the hammering of his own heart into the dark spaces was the hardest thing he’d ever done. His head pounded, his eyes felt like they were bleeding. Still he collected the magic faster than he ever had, gathered the fear and the helpless rage, pulling in the dark energy without thinking about too much or too fast. He knit all of the horrible things inside him into a black ball and pushed back.
Chumin stumbled back, nearly dropping his pistol. Suddenly, he was a normal goblin again instead of a looming specter of death. The fear was still there, pushing against Tibo in heavy, dark waves, but now he could handle it. He knew the source and his anger drove him, letting him gather his feet under him and stagger back up. Slowly, each deliberate step harder than the last, he forced his way back into the room.
Gods. He felt like he was dying.
“Do you see?” Chumin crowed, his voice laced with sharp delight. “Do you see the power you have? Untrained, untapped--and still you can do this. For all the gods’ sakes, let me teach you! Such a small thing you would give me and I could give you everything!”
Tibo lurched another step closer. Another. One more. He pulled his lips back from his sharp teeth in a parody of a smile. “No. I see what you are now. Spider in your webs. So many fucking webs. How do you keep track?”
“Practice. Patience. The occasional spreadsheet.” Chumin raised the pistol again. “I will kill you if I must, Tiborishandelac. I don’t wish to. It would be such a terrible waste. Yes, sometimes I do terrible things because I must. Because I have no choice. To keep the balance, to keep the world as stable as we can, sometimes there are terrible choices.”
“Yeah? Somehow looks to me like you take the easiest choices too much.” Almost there. Another step. “Snuff out stuff that doesn’t fit your plans. Gods forbid people wouldn’t behave in their nice little boxes.”
“My actions have always been for the greater good, my dear.” His voice wavered, either out of sincerity or because Tibo’s fear-throwing was getting to him, but damn, he sounded like he meant it. “I weave my webs so the world does not descend into chaos.”
“Fantastic.” One more step and I can jump him. Maybe two. “But I gotta draw the line at killing kids and selling out my friends.”
* * * * *
There was altogether too much blood in the corridor. Akemi knew some of these knights, knew they acted under orders. She wanted to avoid killing so many people valuable to the organization. She had struck to disable and to dissuade but the close-quarters fighting made it inevitable that some would be mortally wounded.
Damn Nootau for running off. Damn Ashe and Jaxx for vanishing. Damn Tibo and Rolly for not waiting two minutes so she could retrieve them. She stepped behind Jariah and two of her own security to get her back to the wall and draw breath. What she needed to do would be quick but she still needed more than a heartbeat or two.
Reaching into the dark spaces for a kitsune was as natural as breathing. Every kit began to play with manipulation of dark energy as magic in their first year, sometimes within days of birth. Learning to finesse those energies and to master the skills natural to every kitsune took longer and some never progressed beyond the simplest of illusions. Akemi had used her illusions successfully on stadium-sized crowds.
“Hold fast and trust me, not your eyes,” she told her knights as she swept the magic up and out.
It began as a wave of red, a tide of blood rushing toward them from the far end of the corridor. For some, this was enough to make them run screaming. Others fell, believing themselves swept up in the torrent. Behind the wave, though, a greater terror stalked the halls. The thud of its steps trembled through the floor. It’s roar swept the air into a howling wind before it. When it turned the corner, the nearest combatants could only stumble back in horror.
The monster had eight shining, chitinous limbs each ending in serrated pincers as large as a man. It walked on four and used the others as arms while stalk eyes swiveled from a mass of writhing tentacles where it’s head should have been. It opened its beak to roar and the stench alone was nearly deadly.
Some of the braver knights prepared to take a stand, so Akemi elaborated on the illusion and had the monster snatch up an illusory knight and rip her to shreds, using tentacles and arms to stuff the gore and red-tinged bone into its mouth.
“Run, you fools!” she bellowed. “Clear the corridors! Clear the level!”
Whatever their individual orders had been, Akemi’s was still the voice of authority for this facility. They ran. Some stopped to retrieve fallen comrades. Some had to be pulled from their frozen terror. But they ran. While the corridor cleared and Akemi’s knights stood at the ready as if to defend the corridor and their colleagues’ retreat, Akemi shifted.
Black fur began at her ears and raced down her body while her face elongated and her limbs shortened. Fingernails became claws. Teeth sharpened. Ears grew pointed. Akemi shook herself free of her clothes as she went to all fours and reveled in the wonderful rush of her nine tails bursting free in all their black-furred glory.
“Endlich,” she said on a fox sneeze. “I thought they would never leave.”
Jariah chuckled as she gathered Akemi’s clothes and katana to hand off to one of their own. “Just couldn’t wait to get naked. Typical.”
“You’re just jealous because you have no tails.” Akemi let go of her illusions and the corridor was quiet and clear of hematological flooding. “Where’s Pel? And Dzim?”
“Pel hasn’t checked in.” Jariah’s grin fell, her jaw tight. “Dzim was with Edwige’s group directing the medics last I saw.”
“That was a while ago.” Akemi took off at a brisk trot toward the operations center where she had assigned Pel. “We need more medics down here as soon as they can get turned around. Too many assets at stake. This is madness.”
“Oh, no,” Jariah murmured as they turned the corner into the operations center.
The communications boards sat deserted. Blood slicked the floor. In the middle of the floor lay Pel, gasping in Dzim’s arms, the wheezing of a sucking chest wound all too obvious with every breath.
Dzim glanced up with red-rimmed eyes to acknowledge them with a nod. He said softly, “Medics are coming. Don’t know...maybe too late.”
“Damn it.” Akemi’s tails swished in agitation behind her. “Stay with us, Pel. That’s an order.”
Pel managed a weak wave of one hand, letting her know he’d heard. “Report,” he wheezed.
“Shut up,” Dzim told him gently. “Idiot. You can’t report anything right now. Shh.” He kissed Pel’s forehead and looked up at Akemi again. “We lost some of them in the melee. Edwige and Aegeus are in the hospital wing. Mal and Kaden escorted them there. Nootau? No idea. Same with Jaxx and Ashe. Pel told Rolly and Tibo to run for Herr Delgavelac’s office if things went tit’s up. No confirmation yet if they made it.”
Akemi nudged one of her security men. “Jakob, call up to Chumin. Now.”
He nodded and jogged to one of the comm stations to make the call. After a few moments with the receiver to his ear, he shook his head. “No answer.”
“Lovely.” Akemi gave Pel a quick nuzzle. “You. Live, damn it. Dzim, stay with him. Jakob, you as well. Matthias, Jariah, with me.”
“To the keep?” Jariah asked as she checked her weapons and reloaded.
“Yes.” Akemi was already moving, breaking into a run. “I have the worst of feelings.”
* * * * *
For a long, heart-slamming moment, they stood frozen, held fast in each other’s battering emotive fields. Chumin moved first, taking his pistol in both hands in agonizing slow motion, his eyes pinched with the effort. Tibo bared his teeth, trying to will himself to do one last thing.
Move. Move now. Move now or you’re going to die. Move now or he kills you and Rolly dies. Move, you worthless moron!
With a throat-shredding shriek, Tibo launched, throwing everything into one desperate leap. He hit Chumin hard and they went down in a tangle of limbs, biting and scratching. They rolled across the carpet, instinct driving them both toward the windows and more light. Tibo sank his teeth into Chumin’s shoulder then had to release and duck his head to avoid a claw in the eye. Claws and fists flying, it was difficult to say what happened when.
Later, Tibo thought he had landed a solid punch to the side of Chumin’s head first or maybe the gun went off in that same moment. In whatever order, they broke apart, Tibo clutching his ribs, Chumin the side of his head as he retched on the carpet. Cold fury burned in the elder goblin’s eyes when he raised his head again. Then began to raise his gun.
Adrenaline spiked through Tibo so hard, he thought his heart would explode. He seized Chumin by his collar and belt and lifted him to hurl him at the window. The glass shattered in a splintering cascade of falling sunlight. Chumin’s scream was cut short by a sickening thud.
“Oh, gods…” Tibo thought he was going to be sick and the pain in his side hit him hard. He curled up on the floor, wanting desperately to go die with Rolly, no longer having the energy to crawl all the way across the room. “Rolls. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.”
* * * * *
Jariah overrode the lock on the keep door, an agonizingly slow process since it was both magical and physical. As soon as she had it open, Akemi raced up the stairs, shifting back as she ran. Not a smart thing to do and she had to stop in the second floor office to get her legs sorted out. She grabbed a trench coat from a hook and reached the top floor still in her fox ears and tails.
“Chumin!” She pounded on the massive door. “Chumin, open the door! Now!”
Nothing. No, not nothing. A whimper? She pressed her ear to the door and heard someone call out in a thready voice, “I think he’s dead. Can’t...open.”
“Damn, damn, damn.” Akemi snarled and put both hands on the door, summoning enough physical fire to burn through to the lock mechanism, then the blue fox fire to burn through the spells. By now Jariah and Matthias had caught up to her and Matthias kicked the door in.
Again with the room reeking of blood. Akemi hurried in, taking in Rolly seemingly asleep on the couch and Tibo curled in an agonized ball on the floor.
“Where’s Chumin?” she demanded and didn’t care if it sounded sharp.
“Window.” Tibo gasped. “He shot me. Threw him out. Rolly...Akemi, please. Rolly’s poisoned. Dying. He said...said antidote. Tea cup.”
“Chumin gave Rolly poisoned tea?” Akemi asked, to be sure she’d gotten the sense of all that garbled mess.
Tibo nodded and Jariah came back from the window shaking her head. “Chumin’s down there. Can’t tell from here.”
“Goddesses’ tits.” Akemi hissed through her teeth as she gathered Tibo up in her arms. She stopped at the desk to sniff at the tea cups. “Hemlock derivative. Matthias, bring Mr. McFarland. Jariah, go down and stay with Chumin. Or what’s left of him. No one moves him until medical arrives. Once they have him, you grab a search party and find Demir and his wolf. For these two, I’m not waiting. We’re going straight to the hospital wing.”
“What about the others?” Jariah called after her as Akemi hurried for the door.
“Bernard’s on the Triad. I’ll get a squad searching for the phoenix.”
Too many mistakes that day. Far too many and too many hands in the same pots. Some of them were hands she thought she trusted. Chumin’s twisted body lay at the foot of the tower as they ran by to take the shortcut through the kitchens, faded green skin with the shock of white bone protruding here and there. Oh, my old friend. What have you done?
“I am disappointed, of course.” Chumin’s voice hadn’t changed in tone or timbre, still soft and patient while he held Tibo at gunpoint. “But you are young and impulsive. I don’t believe the situation is irretrievable if you stop reacting long enough to think.”
“You just said you’re killing Rolly! There’s no coming back from that!”
“Oh, my dear. My poor dear. Of course there is.” Chumin rose, far steadier and straighter than he had been before. “I can save your Rolly. Give him back to you. I can give you everything you want. Everything. You already have fame and more money than is good for you. But what is it you want Tibo Glent? Hmm? You want the goblin community to accept you, to laud you as a hero. I can give you that. You want your lover’s ancient family to accept you. I can give you that, too. Anything you desire if you tell me the one thing I need now and if you agree to work with me.”
Tibo backed a step, then another, sudden panic clawing its way up from his gut. He wanted to run, to hide, to curl into a ball and sob. “I don’t...how do you know these things? How the fuck could you know?”
Ominous shadows grew behind Chumin, increasing his mass, his overwhelming presence in the room. Visions of flames and smoke, of beloved voices screaming and of futile, anxious flight down darkened hallways filled Tibo’s beleaguered mind. He whimpered, unable to turn his back on the terrible things in front of him, too terrified of what might be behind him to turn around.
“You don’t look well at all, my dear.”
The words were so simple, though could even have been kind, but they slid around him with chill, cruel intent, working under his skin, words too large to be contained in the tower room, blocking out light and sense. Tibo panicked and scrambled for the door, yanking on the handle. The door didn’t budge, didn’t even shake in its frame as he pulled with everything he had, screamed and pounded.
He ended up on the floor curled up against the wood, arms wrapped around his head, crying out in terror at each approaching footstep. The fear made no sense. It was too huge, too sharp, too…
Too fucking overwhelming to be his. That bastard!
If there was one thing in life Tibo knew well, it was fear, and he sure as hell knew his own fear, the shape and the taste of it. This wasn’t his. This was Chumin emolating at him and it pissed Tibo the fuck off. Reaching past his panic, past the hammering of his own heart into the dark spaces was the hardest thing he’d ever done. His head pounded, his eyes felt like they were bleeding. Still he collected the magic faster than he ever had, gathered the fear and the helpless rage, pulling in the dark energy without thinking about too much or too fast. He knit all of the horrible things inside him into a black ball and pushed back.
Chumin stumbled back, nearly dropping his pistol. Suddenly, he was a normal goblin again instead of a looming specter of death. The fear was still there, pushing against Tibo in heavy, dark waves, but now he could handle it. He knew the source and his anger drove him, letting him gather his feet under him and stagger back up. Slowly, each deliberate step harder than the last, he forced his way back into the room.
Gods. He felt like he was dying.
“Do you see?” Chumin crowed, his voice laced with sharp delight. “Do you see the power you have? Untrained, untapped--and still you can do this. For all the gods’ sakes, let me teach you! Such a small thing you would give me and I could give you everything!”
Tibo lurched another step closer. Another. One more. He pulled his lips back from his sharp teeth in a parody of a smile. “No. I see what you are now. Spider in your webs. So many fucking webs. How do you keep track?”
“Practice. Patience. The occasional spreadsheet.” Chumin raised the pistol again. “I will kill you if I must, Tiborishandelac. I don’t wish to. It would be such a terrible waste. Yes, sometimes I do terrible things because I must. Because I have no choice. To keep the balance, to keep the world as stable as we can, sometimes there are terrible choices.”
“Yeah? Somehow looks to me like you take the easiest choices too much.” Almost there. Another step. “Snuff out stuff that doesn’t fit your plans. Gods forbid people wouldn’t behave in their nice little boxes.”
“My actions have always been for the greater good, my dear.” His voice wavered, either out of sincerity or because Tibo’s fear-throwing was getting to him, but damn, he sounded like he meant it. “I weave my webs so the world does not descend into chaos.”
“Fantastic.” One more step and I can jump him. Maybe two. “But I gotta draw the line at killing kids and selling out my friends.”
* * * * *
There was altogether too much blood in the corridor. Akemi knew some of these knights, knew they acted under orders. She wanted to avoid killing so many people valuable to the organization. She had struck to disable and to dissuade but the close-quarters fighting made it inevitable that some would be mortally wounded.
Damn Nootau for running off. Damn Ashe and Jaxx for vanishing. Damn Tibo and Rolly for not waiting two minutes so she could retrieve them. She stepped behind Jariah and two of her own security to get her back to the wall and draw breath. What she needed to do would be quick but she still needed more than a heartbeat or two.
Reaching into the dark spaces for a kitsune was as natural as breathing. Every kit began to play with manipulation of dark energy as magic in their first year, sometimes within days of birth. Learning to finesse those energies and to master the skills natural to every kitsune took longer and some never progressed beyond the simplest of illusions. Akemi had used her illusions successfully on stadium-sized crowds.
“Hold fast and trust me, not your eyes,” she told her knights as she swept the magic up and out.
It began as a wave of red, a tide of blood rushing toward them from the far end of the corridor. For some, this was enough to make them run screaming. Others fell, believing themselves swept up in the torrent. Behind the wave, though, a greater terror stalked the halls. The thud of its steps trembled through the floor. It’s roar swept the air into a howling wind before it. When it turned the corner, the nearest combatants could only stumble back in horror.
The monster had eight shining, chitinous limbs each ending in serrated pincers as large as a man. It walked on four and used the others as arms while stalk eyes swiveled from a mass of writhing tentacles where it’s head should have been. It opened its beak to roar and the stench alone was nearly deadly.
Some of the braver knights prepared to take a stand, so Akemi elaborated on the illusion and had the monster snatch up an illusory knight and rip her to shreds, using tentacles and arms to stuff the gore and red-tinged bone into its mouth.
“Run, you fools!” she bellowed. “Clear the corridors! Clear the level!”
Whatever their individual orders had been, Akemi’s was still the voice of authority for this facility. They ran. Some stopped to retrieve fallen comrades. Some had to be pulled from their frozen terror. But they ran. While the corridor cleared and Akemi’s knights stood at the ready as if to defend the corridor and their colleagues’ retreat, Akemi shifted.
Black fur began at her ears and raced down her body while her face elongated and her limbs shortened. Fingernails became claws. Teeth sharpened. Ears grew pointed. Akemi shook herself free of her clothes as she went to all fours and reveled in the wonderful rush of her nine tails bursting free in all their black-furred glory.
“Endlich,” she said on a fox sneeze. “I thought they would never leave.”
Jariah chuckled as she gathered Akemi’s clothes and katana to hand off to one of their own. “Just couldn’t wait to get naked. Typical.”
“You’re just jealous because you have no tails.” Akemi let go of her illusions and the corridor was quiet and clear of hematological flooding. “Where’s Pel? And Dzim?”
“Pel hasn’t checked in.” Jariah’s grin fell, her jaw tight. “Dzim was with Edwige’s group directing the medics last I saw.”
“That was a while ago.” Akemi took off at a brisk trot toward the operations center where she had assigned Pel. “We need more medics down here as soon as they can get turned around. Too many assets at stake. This is madness.”
“Oh, no,” Jariah murmured as they turned the corner into the operations center.
The communications boards sat deserted. Blood slicked the floor. In the middle of the floor lay Pel, gasping in Dzim’s arms, the wheezing of a sucking chest wound all too obvious with every breath.
Dzim glanced up with red-rimmed eyes to acknowledge them with a nod. He said softly, “Medics are coming. Don’t know...maybe too late.”
“Damn it.” Akemi’s tails swished in agitation behind her. “Stay with us, Pel. That’s an order.”
Pel managed a weak wave of one hand, letting her know he’d heard. “Report,” he wheezed.
“Shut up,” Dzim told him gently. “Idiot. You can’t report anything right now. Shh.” He kissed Pel’s forehead and looked up at Akemi again. “We lost some of them in the melee. Edwige and Aegeus are in the hospital wing. Mal and Kaden escorted them there. Nootau? No idea. Same with Jaxx and Ashe. Pel told Rolly and Tibo to run for Herr Delgavelac’s office if things went tit’s up. No confirmation yet if they made it.”
Akemi nudged one of her security men. “Jakob, call up to Chumin. Now.”
He nodded and jogged to one of the comm stations to make the call. After a few moments with the receiver to his ear, he shook his head. “No answer.”
“Lovely.” Akemi gave Pel a quick nuzzle. “You. Live, damn it. Dzim, stay with him. Jakob, you as well. Matthias, Jariah, with me.”
“To the keep?” Jariah asked as she checked her weapons and reloaded.
“Yes.” Akemi was already moving, breaking into a run. “I have the worst of feelings.”
* * * * *
For a long, heart-slamming moment, they stood frozen, held fast in each other’s battering emotive fields. Chumin moved first, taking his pistol in both hands in agonizing slow motion, his eyes pinched with the effort. Tibo bared his teeth, trying to will himself to do one last thing.
Move. Move now. Move now or you’re going to die. Move now or he kills you and Rolly dies. Move, you worthless moron!
With a throat-shredding shriek, Tibo launched, throwing everything into one desperate leap. He hit Chumin hard and they went down in a tangle of limbs, biting and scratching. They rolled across the carpet, instinct driving them both toward the windows and more light. Tibo sank his teeth into Chumin’s shoulder then had to release and duck his head to avoid a claw in the eye. Claws and fists flying, it was difficult to say what happened when.
Later, Tibo thought he had landed a solid punch to the side of Chumin’s head first or maybe the gun went off in that same moment. In whatever order, they broke apart, Tibo clutching his ribs, Chumin the side of his head as he retched on the carpet. Cold fury burned in the elder goblin’s eyes when he raised his head again. Then began to raise his gun.
Adrenaline spiked through Tibo so hard, he thought his heart would explode. He seized Chumin by his collar and belt and lifted him to hurl him at the window. The glass shattered in a splintering cascade of falling sunlight. Chumin’s scream was cut short by a sickening thud.
“Oh, gods…” Tibo thought he was going to be sick and the pain in his side hit him hard. He curled up on the floor, wanting desperately to go die with Rolly, no longer having the energy to crawl all the way across the room. “Rolls. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.”
* * * * *
Jariah overrode the lock on the keep door, an agonizingly slow process since it was both magical and physical. As soon as she had it open, Akemi raced up the stairs, shifting back as she ran. Not a smart thing to do and she had to stop in the second floor office to get her legs sorted out. She grabbed a trench coat from a hook and reached the top floor still in her fox ears and tails.
“Chumin!” She pounded on the massive door. “Chumin, open the door! Now!”
Nothing. No, not nothing. A whimper? She pressed her ear to the door and heard someone call out in a thready voice, “I think he’s dead. Can’t...open.”
“Damn, damn, damn.” Akemi snarled and put both hands on the door, summoning enough physical fire to burn through to the lock mechanism, then the blue fox fire to burn through the spells. By now Jariah and Matthias had caught up to her and Matthias kicked the door in.
Again with the room reeking of blood. Akemi hurried in, taking in Rolly seemingly asleep on the couch and Tibo curled in an agonized ball on the floor.
“Where’s Chumin?” she demanded and didn’t care if it sounded sharp.
“Window.” Tibo gasped. “He shot me. Threw him out. Rolly...Akemi, please. Rolly’s poisoned. Dying. He said...said antidote. Tea cup.”
“Chumin gave Rolly poisoned tea?” Akemi asked, to be sure she’d gotten the sense of all that garbled mess.
Tibo nodded and Jariah came back from the window shaking her head. “Chumin’s down there. Can’t tell from here.”
“Goddesses’ tits.” Akemi hissed through her teeth as she gathered Tibo up in her arms. She stopped at the desk to sniff at the tea cups. “Hemlock derivative. Matthias, bring Mr. McFarland. Jariah, go down and stay with Chumin. Or what’s left of him. No one moves him until medical arrives. Once they have him, you grab a search party and find Demir and his wolf. For these two, I’m not waiting. We’re going straight to the hospital wing.”
“What about the others?” Jariah called after her as Akemi hurried for the door.
“Bernard’s on the Triad. I’ll get a squad searching for the phoenix.”
Too many mistakes that day. Far too many and too many hands in the same pots. Some of them were hands she thought she trusted. Chumin’s twisted body lay at the foot of the tower as they ran by to take the shortcut through the kitchens, faded green skin with the shock of white bone protruding here and there. Oh, my old friend. What have you done?
 It's honestly best he's on the operating table completely unaware of everything happening. |  Is unaware of what's going on but is soon to find out..... No, it's not a good thing. |  Is in a worst place than the last chapter.... yes, it can get worse. |
Chapter Thirty-Two: Nootau
To the Pain
Heady anticipation gave a little kick to Nootau's step, but first he needed to find a spot to talk to Dario. The upper hall imbibed a false sense of security for Nootau with its at-ease personnel and their dismissive glances. He was someone they expected him to be--Sigmund. And he was, outwardly at least. Though a small part of the man's spirit rode alongside Nootau's heart, and the enthusiasm it danced with only encouraged him. Like Sigmund wanted the blood-letting as much, if not more than, Nootau.
Sigmund wanted blood. Blood for blood.
They turned out of the lab and went to the elevator, Dario walking side by side with Nootau in companionable silence, de facto leading the way to wherever Dr. Bellamy's office was. A ping sounded followed by a swoosh of the metal doors opening. They stepped in with Dario immediately sighing and stabbing the G4 button.
Oh, so someone important. Or somewhat important.
"Dr. Bellamy ist ein völliger Arsch."
"Ja."
They fell into an empty silence, shifting back and forth until they came to a stutter and stop followed by a ping. The doors swooshed open with a brightly lit hall stretching out before them. Dario stepped out, hands in pockets, head down, and striding along at a determined pace.
"Dario!" Nootau wasn't sure why he called out to him, except for the fact they would end up in Dr. Bellamy's office without actually needing to be there. He began rapidly speaking in German hoping he wasn't talking out his ass. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"What?"
"Uh." Nootau began looking around the hall for room to pull Dario into. "I was wondering if we could talk."
Dario raised his eyebrows, a cautiousness seeping into his eyes. He licked his lips. "You want to talk?"
Nootau nodded. "I have some... needs."
"I see."
"These needs are a little unusual."
They most certainly are, walker.
We will bathe in blood.
Thanks to the walker.
"Unusual?" Dario said, frowning.
"And All the Bits & Pieces may be able to help me."
The tautness in Dario's body fell away. Replaced by a wicked smile turning the corners of his mouth. His tongue snaked out and wetted his lips again. "Oh, I see." Dario's head rose and he looked around. He motioned to a door. "I think we can discuss business in here."
Slipping into the darkened room, Nootau focused on the rapid beating of their heart. The thrum of energy curling around it excited them. They gloried in the upcoming confrontation. Fooling Dario into exposing himself thrilled them. How they will soak in his blood.
Blood for blood.
Dario leaned against the desk in the room. "So, your needs."
"Yes, I was wondering..."
How quickly you can kill him, walker?
"We have a variety of sources for our products," Dario said as he settled in. "We have people all over the Americas, working in conjunction with us to provide fresh products as much as possible."
"Fresh?"
"Best way to make some of our products. Some of them are just drafts and powders, but the skin treatments are best when applied wet."
If you reach out now, how easy could you snap his neck? It would, and Nootau's fingers itched to wrap around the Dario's neck. They craved being able to see the life drain out of Dario's eyes as his last breaths escaped him. A shudder of excitement ran through Nootau--them—him. A stain settled over Nootau's soul—black, unforgiving, heavy. He wanted to collapse.
"Are you treating a nerve issue or a skin issue? Aging Effects?" Dario asked blithely. A leer appeared on his face. "Or maybe potency?"
"Um." Potency? Nootau hadn't heard that one before. Breathing hurt. Every breath took more of the sludge inside.
"It really would help me if I knew what you needed to treat."
"Nerves."
"Ah, a little harder to treat I'm afraid, since we need fresh skin treatments and some meal supplements." Dario shook his head, squinting. "Sword hand?"
Somehow Nootau managed to nod despite the roar in his ears. Do you soul stealers taste good, walker?
Blood for blood. Black sludge pulled at him, covered Nootau. Stole his breath.
Drink everything, walker. Drown in his blood.
Dario looked up at Nootau through his lashes, probably trying for seductive but failing to hide the calculating gaze he had. "It's not cheap."
"I can pay."
The leer came back. "It's hard to get fresh supplies. They're expensive."
"I'm good for the money."
"My, my, aren't we desperate." Dario closed in on Nootau, and pulled on his armor, bringing them closer. "But I have a reliable source from the Menominee."
"Near Camp Stone?" Fuck.
"Why yes?" Dario slid his index finger along Nootau's jaw. A chuckle escaped Dario when he felt Nootau tremble. "Someone has been doing their research. I like that in a man. The Menominee have some strong heritage to draw upon."
"Yes."
"I think we can do some business." Dario let out a throaty purr.
"I'd like that." Hate coiled in Nootau's stomach. If he hadn't known the blackness inside Dario, he'd be trying to fuck him. They mirrored each other now. Maybe they were just right for one another. The purr stirred things inside them.
He is attractive.
All willing and able. Maybe we should taste him.
After we beat him.
All Nootau wanted to do was pound the asshole into the ground, so he grabbed Dario's wrists, smiled and butted the asshole's head. A satisfying crack followed. Dario cried out and tried to step back, but they weren't going to let him escape. Blood flowed from Dario's nose down his mouth and chin.
Want and need roiled together, driving Nootau--them. He yanked on Dario's wrists with a firm hand. The asshole stumbled forward, just in time for his crotch to meet Nootau's knee. Another satisfying cry filled the room.
"What! Crazy asshole!"
Nootau let go.
Dario doubled over, spewing anger. "Asshole! Idiot! Motherfuc—"
Nootau brought his hands up, locked them together, and dropped them down hard on Dario's back. The jerk fell to the floor with a gasp. Nootau raised his fists.
"You are going to pay—"
And brought his fists down. Over and over. On Dario's back, his shoulders, his head. But it wasn't enough. The blood spatters were too small. The asshole's cries not enough. They craved for more.
Nootau drew back his foot and kicked. The loud, heavy thwack filled the room as boot connected to stomach.
Now that is more like it.
You could do so much more, walker.
Make him beg.
They rolled Dario over and sat on top of him, pinning him. Whimpers and moans escaped him as tears tracked down the fucker's cheeks.
"Why me?" Dario said repeatedly. "Why now?"
Nootau spat on him, struggling to keep everything level, and leaned in. "Make no mistake. I'm not Rubrum Lux, asshole."
"What?" Dario's whimpers halted abruptly. His eyes wide and wet. Under different circumstances they would enjoy that look a little more.
"You'd think you'd know your product when you saw it, Dario."
Confusion was quickly replaced by panic. "Walker? You're a filthy walker?"
"Now, now, name calling really doesn't become you."
Dario wriggled and bucked, yelling more obscenities.
Nootau sat down harder and got in a few solid punches to Dario's face. That put a stop to his feeble attempt to unseat them. He pulled the dagger from Sigmund's boot and pressed it against Dario's throat.
"You have a contact at Camp Stone."
"Fuck you." Though the words sounded more like 'funk du.'
"I want a name, or names."
"Funk du."
"Names."
Dario stared at them, breathing hard through his mouth.
"We know your husband and brother-in-law are helping you."
Dario ground his teeth together. Since the asshole decided he didn't want to talk, maybe they needed to help the conversation along. A bit of incentive for Dario before Nootau blew it.
"You think I won't go after them?"
"Funk du."
"I want your contact at Camp Stone."
Dario shook his head.
"Then we do this the hard way."
"I can take it." Though the claim seemed to be little more than bluster. Asshole did try to puff up his chest a bit.
"Oh, my darling Dario." They laughed. Their blood sang. The next part would be so much fun. "You really think I'm just going to beat you?"
The bravado wavered.
"No, no, no." They leaned forward and kissed Dario's mouth. The blood tasted so good. "We're going to take it to the pain."
"Pain?" Dario's eyes glistened. A flush developed across his cheeks.
Another time we could enjoy that look.
"Yes, pain." They licked the blood on Dario's chin. They used their thumb to caress Dario's jaw. Careful not to knick him with the knife in their hand.
One of those enticing whimpers fell from the asshole.
"Like this." And as they said it, they pulled up on the knife just below Dario's ear.
A thrilling gush of blood and screams followed.
 Cannot believe some assholes and their elitism. |  Is wishing the day was over with so they could put this blasted adventure behind them. |
Chapter Thirty-Two: Ashe
Everything is Relative
It was a little ironic. All this time, another battle in the lab, and here they were, back in the library again.
Jaxx looked around. The place was empty—what, did no one read anymore? Or did they read everything on their Drakkon Ignition tablets?
They snuck from shelf to shelf until they reached the door that led out into the castle hall.
Ashe cracked the door open and peered outside, and then back at Jaxx.
"So what do we do? We can still run.”
Jaxx shook his head. “We’ve come this far. We go on. But first…” He pulled Ashe close and kissed him hard. Then it mellowed into something deeper, longer. When they split apart, he whispered “I love you, Ashe Heyoka, no matter what comes next.”
“I love you too,” Ashe said.
Jaxx grinned. If he’d been a betting man, he would have gambled that Ashe had had no idea those words were going to come out of his mouth.
Ashe blushed and turned away, slipping out into the empty hallway.
Jaxx followed right behind him. Electric torches burned in sconces in both directions. “I’m starting to hate musty old castles.”
Ashe’s eyes twinkled in agreement.
“So—which way? Left or right?”
Ashe consulted the flash drive. “Right, apparently.”
“Got it.” They ran down the hall past a doorway, but the drive faded.
They retraced their steps back to the door. The drive brightened.
Ashe peered inside. “It’s a stairwell. Looks like we’re going up.”
Jax followed Ashe up the circular stairway, going three quarters around before coming to a doorway on the side wall.
The flash drive said yes.
Ashe reached for the handle, twisting it left and right. It was locked. “Want to do the honors?”
Jaxx laughed. “Sure. Get out of my way.”
It wasn’t often he got to use his singular talents for the greater good. He backed up a couple feet, as far as he could, and rammed the door with his horns, once, twice, three times before it burst open, slamming against the wall outside and coming to rest loosely on its hinges.
Jaxx peered out into the hall. “No one here. Come on.”
They stepped into a hallway that was the twin to the one below that they’d explored on their first foray into the castle more than a week earlier.
Jaxx closed the door. It stayed shut, although it no longer hung quite right. He hoped it was enough to pass a casual inspection.
“This way,” Ashe whispered, leading Jaxx down the hall. When they reached the third door, the flash drive shone brightly.
“This has to be it.” Ashe stuffed it back into his pocket. “Ready or not.”
Jaxx nodded.
Ashe reached for the door handle.
It was unlocked. The door swung open silently.
“I’ve been waiting for you two,” a man’s voice said from inside.
* * * * *
“Come in.” The voice came from a dapper looking phoenix. He was tall with salt and pepper feathers on his head, piercing gray eyes, and a hawk-like nose. He was dressed in a gray Italian business suit. He looked much more corporate than professorial. The feathers on the back of Ashe’s neck were standing on end.
A phoenix.
“Come on. You two have come all this way, looking for answers. Have a seat, and I’ll give them to you.”
“Who are you?” Ashe stared at the man, unable to believe he was a phoenix. And why was the man’s office here instead of at the labs?
The man held out his hand. “Dr. Dexter Cooper.” His gaze took in their dirty, rumpled clothes. “Looks like you have gone through a lot to find me.”
Ashe and Jaxx exchanged looks. This wasn’t going at all the way they’d planned it. Bewildered, Ashe held out his hand to shake Dr. Cooper’s.
The man came around the desk and closed the door behind them. “Please do sit down,” he said, picking up a crystal decanter filled with a golden liquid. “Scotch?”
Ashe and Jaxx sat in the two leather armchairs that fronted Cooper’s dark mahogany desk. “No thanks… I’m not really thirsty.”
Dr. Cooper’s desk was meticulously neat, with only a laptop in the middle and a snow globe of the Swiss alps on one corner.
“I like mine neat. I find that a little alcohol makes these things more… pleasant. But suit yourselves.” He returned to his own chair, sitting and taking a sip of the golden fluid as he watched them for a moment over the rim of the glass.
“You said you were expecting us?” Jaxx had a belligerent glint in his eye.
“Yes. Ashe’s mother was quite resourceful at collecting all of this information.” He tossed over a manilla folder to their side of the desk. It was about an inch thick.
Ashe picked it up and flipped through the pages.
“That’s a summary of what was on that little flash drive of yours.”
“How did you get this?”
“I have friends, even in Akemi’s camp. You don’t happen to have that flash drive with you, do you?”
Jaxx shook his head. “It got lost when your goons attacked us.”
Ashe was so proud of his little satyr. “What’s this all about, Dr. Cooper?”
He didn’t trust the man. His mother’s gift had led them here. That was warning enough.
“You know what we’re doing here.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’ve seen enough to guess. You’re breeding dragons that can do things dragons have never done before.”
“In a nutshell, yes. The Guild is a little… hidebound in its thinking. Society will never advance under the current system. The whole world is a mess—nations at war, an economy that no longer works for the common man—we need to shake up the system.” He pulled up something on his computer screen, and then spun the laptop around for Ashe to see. It was a video of a dragon. A beautiful, sleek black dragon. “She’s twice as fast as any other dragon on the market. And eventually she and her kind may be able to take us to the moon and back.”
Jaxx whistled.
“But that’s not all. She’s capable of enough firepower to destroy a city. In the right hands, she could take down fascist regimes, destroy terrorist bunkers…”
Ashe glared at him.
“What? She’s beautiful.”
Ashe had to agree. “Who decides who’s a terrorist? Who’s a fascist government? The Guild would never stand for this. They’ve fought for centuries to bring dragons under control, to limit the damage they could do. There’s a reason we no longer use them in war.”
“Rubrum Lux would make those choices. We know more about geopolitics than anyone else.”
“What if they got into the wrong hands?” Jaxx’s voice sounded brittle, on edge.
“Unlikely. In any case, we have a once-in-a-generation chance to shake up the status quo.”
It sounded like a bad, bad idea to Ashe. “So what does this have to do with us?” he asked warily.
Dr. Cooper steepled his hands and stared at them across the desk for a long moment. “If this got out before we’re ready, it could put the whole program in jeopardy. The Guild is very powerful, and has friends in high places.”
“Yeah. So?” The feathers on the back of his neck were itching.
“Although I started in the lab, I’ve attained a certain prominence in the organization here, and with that come certain perks. I’d rather buy you off than create another questionable disappearance or two. I’ve got a few spots to fill in the organization. I think someone with your training capabilities…” He looked at Ashe, “…and your medical skills…” He gave a nod to Jaxx, “…could find a place here with us.”
“Not really interested,” Ashe said, feeling dirty even thinking about the idea.
“So sorry to hear that,” the doctor said. “It’s too bad, though. It would have been cleaner if you’d said yes.”
“Cleaner?” Ashe was starting to get a bad feeling about this.
“Akemi made quite a mess when she decided to start poking her little fox nose into places where it had no business being. My associates and I have had to take some… extraordinary measures to put that genie back it its bottle.” He set down his glass. “This could all have been avoided if your mother had just left well enough alone. I met her several times, the last one at a conference in DC. I never did buy that cover of hers.”
“She worked for the government…”
“She was a spy.”
He shook his head. “She worked for the state department.”
Dr. Cooper laughed, an ugly sound. “She was a spy. Even so, I was saddened to hear that she had passed away… suddenly.” He sipped his scotch. “And under such suspicious circumstances. It’s hard when fate takes away the ones you love.” He glanced at Jaxx, and the threat was implicit.
“You son of a bitch,” Ashe all but growled. This was the one, the man who had ordered his mother killed. His ‘Mita.
Dr. Cooper laughed at Ashe’s discomfiture. “You’re just like your father, aren’t you? Look at you, just about ready to burst. Kinan should have learned to keep his temper.”
“Don’t say another bad word about my father.” Ashe’s blood was boiling.
“If he’d just given us what we wanted when our boys came knocking on that ramshackle trailer door of yours—”
Ashe screamed, his vision filled with red. He leapt across the desk, intent on taking out the man’s throat, his wings bursting forth in a blaze of fire.
Something slowed and then stopped him, and he found himself suspended in midair, wings ablaze, as if trapped in amber.
Jaxx had gotten up as well, but he too seemed trapped.
“Did you think I’d let you come in here, myself unprotected?” Cooper opened his palm to show a glowing amber stone. “I paid a pretty penny for this, but it’s worth its weight in trapped phoenix.” He smiled lazily. “Throws a stasis spell around anyone within five feet. It does give me a bit of an unfair advantage, but… I think I’ve earned it.” He chuckled and pulled a sharp-looking hunting knife out of his desk drawer, testing the blade. “You’re overmatched, my little friend. Now let’s see what your handsome satyr boyfriend is made out of.”
Jaxx looked around. The place was empty—what, did no one read anymore? Or did they read everything on their Drakkon Ignition tablets?
They snuck from shelf to shelf until they reached the door that led out into the castle hall.
Ashe cracked the door open and peered outside, and then back at Jaxx.
"So what do we do? We can still run.”
Jaxx shook his head. “We’ve come this far. We go on. But first…” He pulled Ashe close and kissed him hard. Then it mellowed into something deeper, longer. When they split apart, he whispered “I love you, Ashe Heyoka, no matter what comes next.”
“I love you too,” Ashe said.
Jaxx grinned. If he’d been a betting man, he would have gambled that Ashe had had no idea those words were going to come out of his mouth.
Ashe blushed and turned away, slipping out into the empty hallway.
Jaxx followed right behind him. Electric torches burned in sconces in both directions. “I’m starting to hate musty old castles.”
Ashe’s eyes twinkled in agreement.
“So—which way? Left or right?”
Ashe consulted the flash drive. “Right, apparently.”
“Got it.” They ran down the hall past a doorway, but the drive faded.
They retraced their steps back to the door. The drive brightened.
Ashe peered inside. “It’s a stairwell. Looks like we’re going up.”
Jax followed Ashe up the circular stairway, going three quarters around before coming to a doorway on the side wall.
The flash drive said yes.
Ashe reached for the handle, twisting it left and right. It was locked. “Want to do the honors?”
Jaxx laughed. “Sure. Get out of my way.”
It wasn’t often he got to use his singular talents for the greater good. He backed up a couple feet, as far as he could, and rammed the door with his horns, once, twice, three times before it burst open, slamming against the wall outside and coming to rest loosely on its hinges.
Jaxx peered out into the hall. “No one here. Come on.”
They stepped into a hallway that was the twin to the one below that they’d explored on their first foray into the castle more than a week earlier.
Jaxx closed the door. It stayed shut, although it no longer hung quite right. He hoped it was enough to pass a casual inspection.
“This way,” Ashe whispered, leading Jaxx down the hall. When they reached the third door, the flash drive shone brightly.
“This has to be it.” Ashe stuffed it back into his pocket. “Ready or not.”
Jaxx nodded.
Ashe reached for the door handle.
It was unlocked. The door swung open silently.
“I’ve been waiting for you two,” a man’s voice said from inside.
* * * * *
“Come in.” The voice came from a dapper looking phoenix. He was tall with salt and pepper feathers on his head, piercing gray eyes, and a hawk-like nose. He was dressed in a gray Italian business suit. He looked much more corporate than professorial. The feathers on the back of Ashe’s neck were standing on end.
A phoenix.
“Come on. You two have come all this way, looking for answers. Have a seat, and I’ll give them to you.”
“Who are you?” Ashe stared at the man, unable to believe he was a phoenix. And why was the man’s office here instead of at the labs?
The man held out his hand. “Dr. Dexter Cooper.” His gaze took in their dirty, rumpled clothes. “Looks like you have gone through a lot to find me.”
Ashe and Jaxx exchanged looks. This wasn’t going at all the way they’d planned it. Bewildered, Ashe held out his hand to shake Dr. Cooper’s.
The man came around the desk and closed the door behind them. “Please do sit down,” he said, picking up a crystal decanter filled with a golden liquid. “Scotch?”
Ashe and Jaxx sat in the two leather armchairs that fronted Cooper’s dark mahogany desk. “No thanks… I’m not really thirsty.”
Dr. Cooper’s desk was meticulously neat, with only a laptop in the middle and a snow globe of the Swiss alps on one corner.
“I like mine neat. I find that a little alcohol makes these things more… pleasant. But suit yourselves.” He returned to his own chair, sitting and taking a sip of the golden fluid as he watched them for a moment over the rim of the glass.
“You said you were expecting us?” Jaxx had a belligerent glint in his eye.
“Yes. Ashe’s mother was quite resourceful at collecting all of this information.” He tossed over a manilla folder to their side of the desk. It was about an inch thick.
Ashe picked it up and flipped through the pages.
“That’s a summary of what was on that little flash drive of yours.”
“How did you get this?”
“I have friends, even in Akemi’s camp. You don’t happen to have that flash drive with you, do you?”
Jaxx shook his head. “It got lost when your goons attacked us.”
Ashe was so proud of his little satyr. “What’s this all about, Dr. Cooper?”
He didn’t trust the man. His mother’s gift had led them here. That was warning enough.
“You know what we’re doing here.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’ve seen enough to guess. You’re breeding dragons that can do things dragons have never done before.”
“In a nutshell, yes. The Guild is a little… hidebound in its thinking. Society will never advance under the current system. The whole world is a mess—nations at war, an economy that no longer works for the common man—we need to shake up the system.” He pulled up something on his computer screen, and then spun the laptop around for Ashe to see. It was a video of a dragon. A beautiful, sleek black dragon. “She’s twice as fast as any other dragon on the market. And eventually she and her kind may be able to take us to the moon and back.”
Jaxx whistled.
“But that’s not all. She’s capable of enough firepower to destroy a city. In the right hands, she could take down fascist regimes, destroy terrorist bunkers…”
Ashe glared at him.
“What? She’s beautiful.”
Ashe had to agree. “Who decides who’s a terrorist? Who’s a fascist government? The Guild would never stand for this. They’ve fought for centuries to bring dragons under control, to limit the damage they could do. There’s a reason we no longer use them in war.”
“Rubrum Lux would make those choices. We know more about geopolitics than anyone else.”
“What if they got into the wrong hands?” Jaxx’s voice sounded brittle, on edge.
“Unlikely. In any case, we have a once-in-a-generation chance to shake up the status quo.”
It sounded like a bad, bad idea to Ashe. “So what does this have to do with us?” he asked warily.
Dr. Cooper steepled his hands and stared at them across the desk for a long moment. “If this got out before we’re ready, it could put the whole program in jeopardy. The Guild is very powerful, and has friends in high places.”
“Yeah. So?” The feathers on the back of his neck were itching.
“Although I started in the lab, I’ve attained a certain prominence in the organization here, and with that come certain perks. I’d rather buy you off than create another questionable disappearance or two. I’ve got a few spots to fill in the organization. I think someone with your training capabilities…” He looked at Ashe, “…and your medical skills…” He gave a nod to Jaxx, “…could find a place here with us.”
“Not really interested,” Ashe said, feeling dirty even thinking about the idea.
“So sorry to hear that,” the doctor said. “It’s too bad, though. It would have been cleaner if you’d said yes.”
“Cleaner?” Ashe was starting to get a bad feeling about this.
“Akemi made quite a mess when she decided to start poking her little fox nose into places where it had no business being. My associates and I have had to take some… extraordinary measures to put that genie back it its bottle.” He set down his glass. “This could all have been avoided if your mother had just left well enough alone. I met her several times, the last one at a conference in DC. I never did buy that cover of hers.”
“She worked for the government…”
“She was a spy.”
He shook his head. “She worked for the state department.”
Dr. Cooper laughed, an ugly sound. “She was a spy. Even so, I was saddened to hear that she had passed away… suddenly.” He sipped his scotch. “And under such suspicious circumstances. It’s hard when fate takes away the ones you love.” He glanced at Jaxx, and the threat was implicit.
“You son of a bitch,” Ashe all but growled. This was the one, the man who had ordered his mother killed. His ‘Mita.
Dr. Cooper laughed at Ashe’s discomfiture. “You’re just like your father, aren’t you? Look at you, just about ready to burst. Kinan should have learned to keep his temper.”
“Don’t say another bad word about my father.” Ashe’s blood was boiling.
“If he’d just given us what we wanted when our boys came knocking on that ramshackle trailer door of yours—”
Ashe screamed, his vision filled with red. He leapt across the desk, intent on taking out the man’s throat, his wings bursting forth in a blaze of fire.
Something slowed and then stopped him, and he found himself suspended in midair, wings ablaze, as if trapped in amber.
Jaxx had gotten up as well, but he too seemed trapped.
“Did you think I’d let you come in here, myself unprotected?” Cooper opened his palm to show a glowing amber stone. “I paid a pretty penny for this, but it’s worth its weight in trapped phoenix.” He smiled lazily. “Throws a stasis spell around anyone within five feet. It does give me a bit of an unfair advantage, but… I think I’ve earned it.” He chuckled and pulled a sharp-looking hunting knife out of his desk drawer, testing the blade. “You’re overmatched, my little friend. Now let’s see what your handsome satyr boyfriend is made out of.”
 Wishes there were punishments worse then death for arseholes who abuse their station. |  Is wishing for a less exciting holiday next go around. |
Chapter Thirty-Two: Mal
At Last!
Kaden looked at Mal, apprehension on his face. Mal couldn't blame the man. Kaden didn't ask for any of this. Mal had questioned his motives behind allowing Kaden to tag along several times in the last couple of weeks. Now though he was really wondering if he'd made the right decision.
Mal gave Kaden his most reassuring smile and then turned the handle and pushed the door to the office open. He strode in, Kaden by his side.
The office was large and ornate. Plush gold carpeting covered the floors, one wall was covered in books, a couch sat to their right, a large metal and glass desk sat in the centre of the room. Two uncomfortable looking chairs sat in front of the desk. The desk was covered with a computer, phone and paperwork scattered all over.
Behind the desk in a large leather backed chair sat the woman Mal had travelled thousands of kilometres to confront.
She wasn't at all what Mal expected, then again, he didn't really know what he expected. She sat tall and regal in her chair, long wavy blonde hair cascaded down around her. Her features were sharp and angular, a nod to her Greek ancestry if her name was anything to go by. Her eyes were a stunning gold colour that made her look ethereal.
"At last we meet. I've been waiting quite a while for this," she said in a rich Aussie accent.
"If I'd known you were waiting for me I would have come sooner," Mal said, his tone flat. "You're a fucking Aussie?" he asked quickly after, having trouble dealing with that fact.
Cynthia laughed, the sound bright and harsh at the same time.
"I am, surprised?"
"You could say that."
"Why don't you take a seat Malcolm, we have much to discuss."
She waved to the chairs in front of her desk.
Mal didn't move.
She turned her attention to Kaden. "And you must be Kaden, Malcolm's….companion. You know you really shouldn't have let him drag you into this. People Malcolm loves tend to get dead."
Mal stiffened, as did Kaden beside him.
"Sit!" she barked.
"Fuck you, I'd rather stand," Mal spat back at her.
"Tut, tut, tut, young Malcolm, you really mustn't let your temper get the best of you." She smiled serenely at them, like they were old friends catching up over coffee.
Mal was finding it hard not to launch himself across the room and wrap his fingers around her scrawny little throat.
Mal took a deep breath to try and get his anger under control. Kaden placed his hand on Mal's arm, reminding him Kaden was there. When he could once again look at Cynthia without killing her he asked the question he'd travelled all this way to find out.
"Are you the person who gave the order to have my sister killed?"
Cynthia placed her elbows on the glass top of her desk, her fingers steepled in front of her face. Her nails were long and painted bright red, they looked like claws or talons to Mal. Her expression was thoughtful as she continued to watch him and Kaden.
"If I was to tell you no, would you believe me?” She finally asked after the silence in the room had stretched as long as it could.
"No," Mal said immediately.
"Clever boy." She grinned wickedly.
"Why'd you do it?" Mal asked, he already knew the answer but wanted to hear it from her.
"Your sister stuck her nose into too many things that didn't concern her. She was warned off repeatedly. She didn't listen so she had to be dealt with."
"Surely there was another way?" Mal asked.
"Poor naïve Malcolm. Death is the only way people learn."
"Well, apparently, I didn't get that memo." Mal stood glaring at the woman who'd ordered his sister's death. He wanted to kill her himself. Wanted to pull one of his knives and slit her throat, watch her life blood flow from her body, just like Anya's had.
Mal knew he wouldn't do it though. That wasn't who he was. He wasn't a cold-blooded killer. He'd take Cynthia in and hand her over to Akemi, and let her deal with the awful woman.
"You will. Sooner than you might think," Cynthia said as she stood, raised a gun Mal hadn't seen and fired it at Kaden.
Kaden gasped beside him as the bullet impacted his body, his hands clutched at his stomach as he collapsed to the ground.
Mal cried out as he fell to Kaden's side.
Kaden's face had gone deathly pale, his eyes impossibly wide. Blood was seeping from between his fingers as they tried to keep pressure on the wound. Mal placed his hand over Kaden's applying more pressure. Kaden groaned in pain at the added weight.
Mal blinked rapidly trying to hold back the tears. "Don’t you dare die on me Kaden. We haven't even begun to explore what's between us yet."
Mal pulled one of his knives and went to work cutting off a large piece of Kaden's pants to use as a pad. He would have happily used his own clothes but his leathers weren't really the ideal material to use.
Kaden smiled weakly at him, before groaning again. "Fuck that hurts," he gasped.
"I know. Just hold on, okay? I'll get us out of here. Trust me."
"I do." Kaden's words were whispered, making it hard for Mal to hear him over the blood pounding through his veins.
Mal leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to Kaden's pale lips. "Be right back."
Mal stood, his hands now covered in Kaden's blood and glared daggers at the bitch in front of him. "Let’s you and me dance, unless of course you're too much of a coward to go up against a lowly human without a gun?"
Mal dropped his own gun to the floor, his knives were still in their holsters, and unless the bitch pulled out her claws that's where they would stay.
The grin Cynthia sported could only be described as wicked. She placed the gun on the desk, cracked her neck from side to side then stepped out from behind the desk.
Mal wasn't fucking around he was going to bring this bitch down if it was the last thing he did.
He charged.
Mal gave Kaden his most reassuring smile and then turned the handle and pushed the door to the office open. He strode in, Kaden by his side.
The office was large and ornate. Plush gold carpeting covered the floors, one wall was covered in books, a couch sat to their right, a large metal and glass desk sat in the centre of the room. Two uncomfortable looking chairs sat in front of the desk. The desk was covered with a computer, phone and paperwork scattered all over.
Behind the desk in a large leather backed chair sat the woman Mal had travelled thousands of kilometres to confront.
She wasn't at all what Mal expected, then again, he didn't really know what he expected. She sat tall and regal in her chair, long wavy blonde hair cascaded down around her. Her features were sharp and angular, a nod to her Greek ancestry if her name was anything to go by. Her eyes were a stunning gold colour that made her look ethereal.
"At last we meet. I've been waiting quite a while for this," she said in a rich Aussie accent.
"If I'd known you were waiting for me I would have come sooner," Mal said, his tone flat. "You're a fucking Aussie?" he asked quickly after, having trouble dealing with that fact.
Cynthia laughed, the sound bright and harsh at the same time.
"I am, surprised?"
"You could say that."
"Why don't you take a seat Malcolm, we have much to discuss."
She waved to the chairs in front of her desk.
Mal didn't move.
She turned her attention to Kaden. "And you must be Kaden, Malcolm's….companion. You know you really shouldn't have let him drag you into this. People Malcolm loves tend to get dead."
Mal stiffened, as did Kaden beside him.
"Sit!" she barked.
"Fuck you, I'd rather stand," Mal spat back at her.
"Tut, tut, tut, young Malcolm, you really mustn't let your temper get the best of you." She smiled serenely at them, like they were old friends catching up over coffee.
Mal was finding it hard not to launch himself across the room and wrap his fingers around her scrawny little throat.
Mal took a deep breath to try and get his anger under control. Kaden placed his hand on Mal's arm, reminding him Kaden was there. When he could once again look at Cynthia without killing her he asked the question he'd travelled all this way to find out.
"Are you the person who gave the order to have my sister killed?"
Cynthia placed her elbows on the glass top of her desk, her fingers steepled in front of her face. Her nails were long and painted bright red, they looked like claws or talons to Mal. Her expression was thoughtful as she continued to watch him and Kaden.
"If I was to tell you no, would you believe me?” She finally asked after the silence in the room had stretched as long as it could.
"No," Mal said immediately.
"Clever boy." She grinned wickedly.
"Why'd you do it?" Mal asked, he already knew the answer but wanted to hear it from her.
"Your sister stuck her nose into too many things that didn't concern her. She was warned off repeatedly. She didn't listen so she had to be dealt with."
"Surely there was another way?" Mal asked.
"Poor naïve Malcolm. Death is the only way people learn."
"Well, apparently, I didn't get that memo." Mal stood glaring at the woman who'd ordered his sister's death. He wanted to kill her himself. Wanted to pull one of his knives and slit her throat, watch her life blood flow from her body, just like Anya's had.
Mal knew he wouldn't do it though. That wasn't who he was. He wasn't a cold-blooded killer. He'd take Cynthia in and hand her over to Akemi, and let her deal with the awful woman.
"You will. Sooner than you might think," Cynthia said as she stood, raised a gun Mal hadn't seen and fired it at Kaden.
Kaden gasped beside him as the bullet impacted his body, his hands clutched at his stomach as he collapsed to the ground.
Mal cried out as he fell to Kaden's side.
Kaden's face had gone deathly pale, his eyes impossibly wide. Blood was seeping from between his fingers as they tried to keep pressure on the wound. Mal placed his hand over Kaden's applying more pressure. Kaden groaned in pain at the added weight.
Mal blinked rapidly trying to hold back the tears. "Don’t you dare die on me Kaden. We haven't even begun to explore what's between us yet."
Mal pulled one of his knives and went to work cutting off a large piece of Kaden's pants to use as a pad. He would have happily used his own clothes but his leathers weren't really the ideal material to use.
Kaden smiled weakly at him, before groaning again. "Fuck that hurts," he gasped.
"I know. Just hold on, okay? I'll get us out of here. Trust me."
"I do." Kaden's words were whispered, making it hard for Mal to hear him over the blood pounding through his veins.
Mal leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to Kaden's pale lips. "Be right back."
Mal stood, his hands now covered in Kaden's blood and glared daggers at the bitch in front of him. "Let’s you and me dance, unless of course you're too much of a coward to go up against a lowly human without a gun?"
Mal dropped his own gun to the floor, his knives were still in their holsters, and unless the bitch pulled out her claws that's where they would stay.
The grin Cynthia sported could only be described as wicked. She placed the gun on the desk, cracked her neck from side to side then stepped out from behind the desk.
Mal wasn't fucking around he was going to bring this bitch down if it was the last thing he did.
He charged.
Chapter Thirty-Two: Tibo
Where Obligation Lies
 Is probably better off not knowing what's happening right now. |  Is thinking fast and not liking where this is going. |
Chumin opened a desk drawer and Tibo tensed. What’s he digging around for? Oh. The ancient goblin pulled out one of those extra-fancy boxes of chocolates, lifted the lid, and took some time selecting one that he picked out delicately between thumb and foreclaw. Tibo cussed himself out internally for being so jumpy and suspicious.
“Please have one. Or two, perhaps.” Chumin pushed the box across the desk. “I find a chocolate or two soothing in times of stress.”
Tibo voiced a soft thank you and picked one shaped like a nautilus. Dark chocolate heaven with a truffle style almond center, he nibbled on the ridiculously decadent shell and tried not to feel like he was eight years old. He was kinda failing on that front.
“You are not what I expected,” Chumin said on a soft chuckle.
“No?” Tibo licked a bit of chocolate from his thumb claw. “Yeah, I guess news stories and stuff.”
“They paint you as a cliche of yourself. The bad boy musician who breaks hearts on stage, throws tantrums off, drinks to excess, has orgies lasting until dawn, and crawls out of bed mid-afternoon.” Chumin waved off anything Tibo had to say. “I’m sure there has been some of that. But face to face you are more substantive.”
“That’s...thanks?”
“Your reasons for coming here are noble and selfless. Acting on the information you had, you did the best you could. Sometimes it’s difficult to see the entire situation from the ground, though. One must look at things from a more aerial view.”
Tibo shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Have another. You’re still shaking.” Chumin nudged the box toward him again and waited until Tibo had snagged a second chocolate. “It was unfortunate, what happened to little Shandilevinar. Perhaps you felt more of an obligation to her because she knew you. Recognized you.”
Tibo stopped mid-nibble, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. “How do you know that? I never told anyone here. Not that part, that she recognized me.”
Again, Chumin gave an airy, dismissive wave. “There is very little information in this world I cannot acquire when I wish. I have the police report, such as it is. Tsk. Those officers wouldn’t have lasted two days on my staff.”
“Yeah.” Tibo nibbled another bite, wary now and off-balance. Sure. Fine. Big shot in a secret organization would have ways to get intel. He just felt so exposed. Kinda violated. How long had they been watching him? “They didn’t really care.”
“It is so often the case for us, even in countries that give lip service to ‘goblin rights.’ Shandi’s case is particularly tragic because she was incandescently brilliant.” Chumin poured them both more tea. “Using the dark spaces to travel is an old idea. One that magic users have wished for since the time of legends. It was a fairytale until the Renaissance, when Leonardo found a way. Did you know that?”
Tibo shook his head, completely out of his depth.
“It’s often left out of histories and biographies because his remaining notes were difficult to decipher. Leonardo had his own system of symbols, naturally, and many believe the notes were incomplete. The language of magical theory, how we express concepts, was not fully developed. Magical scientists have struggled to find the missing pieces for centuries and the research team at the Institute in Zürich were getting close. Shandi, little Shandi, self-taught and without the years of experience of the researchers, solved the unsolvable pieces of the equations.”
“That part, yeah. Got that.”
“My agents had been watching the research at the Institute closely. For many years, it looked likely to come to nothing, so it was merely a precaution. Until Shandi contacted Dr. Bach with her equations. The wonders of the internet.”
“Then what?”
“Agents were deployed. Offers were made and refused.”
Tibo lurched from his chair and stumbled back. “Oh, gods… Holy fuck. You killed her.”
“Ech. No need for such overdramatics. Don’t act as if I’m about to eat you.” Chumin waved a hand at the chair, though the rage boiling under TIbo’s skin wasn’t going to let him sit back down. “I did not specifically order a death. There should have been other options. Elimination is understood to be a last resort.”
Tibo clamped both hands on the back of the chair, trying to hide the anger trembling through him. “So you send your agents out and they get to decide whether someone gets offed or not? Seems like they kinda got over eager. Were they trying to kill me in London?”
“No. Those were others.” Chumin shook his head. “Your focus has narrowed too far again. Whether the agents were mine at any point along your route or those of a faction with the same goals is not important.”
“I think it’s pretty fucking important when someone kills a little girl and takes potshots at my fucking head!”
“I understand your anger.” Chumin nodded, fingers steepled in front of him. “It was not the best of all possible outcomes. But there is so much at stake here. Not the life of one or two or even three people, but thousands. Millions. Far too much hanging in the balance to leave to chance. You, my dear, must decide where your obligations lie. To one life or to the many children who will be born into want, desperation, and war.”
“Look… In a weird, fucked up way, I get what you’re saying. But it doesn’t make any of this right. None of this cloak and dagger strong-arm and assassin shit.” Tibo ran both hands over his face. How could someone who seemed so wise be able to feed himself such a load of shit? Did he really believe it? “And I sure as fucking fuck don’t understand any of this advance theory crap, so I don’t know what the hell you want with me.”
“Ah, Tiborishandelac. You do know what I want from you if you think calmly a moment.” Chumin still regarded him kindly, patiently and Tibo wasn’t sure if it confused him or freaked him out more. “We traced your travels since the moment you left New York. Every step we could verify. Yet we still haven’t been able to locate the laptop.”
“Shandi’s laptop. You’ve gotta be kidding.” Oh, gods, Meerah. You’re still safe if they’re asking me for it. Damn it, damn it, what’ve I done leaving it with you? “You already have all of it. I mean, if they used the portal to get the damn car through that ran Shandi over, you have all of it. You know how it works. You’ve used it.”
“There had to be some experimentation to verify that the equations translated to results. Yes. And yes, certain high-clearance people have access to the information. However, the laptop is the last bit of unsecured data. It must be retrieved. Destroyed. Before the information leaks out to less responsible, more mercenary parties whose only concern is for immediate profit.”
Tibo shook his head, fighting to find his voice. He wanted to tell Chumin to fuck off, but couldn’t quite bring himself to say the words to such an old goblin. “No. Hell, no. There might be people in your organization I’d have given it up to. But not you. You, sitting up here in your tower spinning your webs. I tell you, your people go get it and kill M-- the person I left it with. No.”
“That’s rather unfortunate.” Chumin tapped his claws on the desk, one white eyebrow raised. “Since I misled you a bit. I see how you look at your banshee friend. You love him dearly. Perhaps he is that one great love for you. I’m afraid the herbs in his tea have done more than help him sleep, though I do have an antidote ready. If you don’t tell me where the laptop is, your beloved Rolly dies.”
“Please have one. Or two, perhaps.” Chumin pushed the box across the desk. “I find a chocolate or two soothing in times of stress.”
Tibo voiced a soft thank you and picked one shaped like a nautilus. Dark chocolate heaven with a truffle style almond center, he nibbled on the ridiculously decadent shell and tried not to feel like he was eight years old. He was kinda failing on that front.
“You are not what I expected,” Chumin said on a soft chuckle.
“No?” Tibo licked a bit of chocolate from his thumb claw. “Yeah, I guess news stories and stuff.”
“They paint you as a cliche of yourself. The bad boy musician who breaks hearts on stage, throws tantrums off, drinks to excess, has orgies lasting until dawn, and crawls out of bed mid-afternoon.” Chumin waved off anything Tibo had to say. “I’m sure there has been some of that. But face to face you are more substantive.”
“That’s...thanks?”
“Your reasons for coming here are noble and selfless. Acting on the information you had, you did the best you could. Sometimes it’s difficult to see the entire situation from the ground, though. One must look at things from a more aerial view.”
Tibo shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Have another. You’re still shaking.” Chumin nudged the box toward him again and waited until Tibo had snagged a second chocolate. “It was unfortunate, what happened to little Shandilevinar. Perhaps you felt more of an obligation to her because she knew you. Recognized you.”
Tibo stopped mid-nibble, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. “How do you know that? I never told anyone here. Not that part, that she recognized me.”
Again, Chumin gave an airy, dismissive wave. “There is very little information in this world I cannot acquire when I wish. I have the police report, such as it is. Tsk. Those officers wouldn’t have lasted two days on my staff.”
“Yeah.” Tibo nibbled another bite, wary now and off-balance. Sure. Fine. Big shot in a secret organization would have ways to get intel. He just felt so exposed. Kinda violated. How long had they been watching him? “They didn’t really care.”
“It is so often the case for us, even in countries that give lip service to ‘goblin rights.’ Shandi’s case is particularly tragic because she was incandescently brilliant.” Chumin poured them both more tea. “Using the dark spaces to travel is an old idea. One that magic users have wished for since the time of legends. It was a fairytale until the Renaissance, when Leonardo found a way. Did you know that?”
Tibo shook his head, completely out of his depth.
“It’s often left out of histories and biographies because his remaining notes were difficult to decipher. Leonardo had his own system of symbols, naturally, and many believe the notes were incomplete. The language of magical theory, how we express concepts, was not fully developed. Magical scientists have struggled to find the missing pieces for centuries and the research team at the Institute in Zürich were getting close. Shandi, little Shandi, self-taught and without the years of experience of the researchers, solved the unsolvable pieces of the equations.”
“That part, yeah. Got that.”
“My agents had been watching the research at the Institute closely. For many years, it looked likely to come to nothing, so it was merely a precaution. Until Shandi contacted Dr. Bach with her equations. The wonders of the internet.”
“Then what?”
“Agents were deployed. Offers were made and refused.”
Tibo lurched from his chair and stumbled back. “Oh, gods… Holy fuck. You killed her.”
“Ech. No need for such overdramatics. Don’t act as if I’m about to eat you.” Chumin waved a hand at the chair, though the rage boiling under TIbo’s skin wasn’t going to let him sit back down. “I did not specifically order a death. There should have been other options. Elimination is understood to be a last resort.”
Tibo clamped both hands on the back of the chair, trying to hide the anger trembling through him. “So you send your agents out and they get to decide whether someone gets offed or not? Seems like they kinda got over eager. Were they trying to kill me in London?”
“No. Those were others.” Chumin shook his head. “Your focus has narrowed too far again. Whether the agents were mine at any point along your route or those of a faction with the same goals is not important.”
“I think it’s pretty fucking important when someone kills a little girl and takes potshots at my fucking head!”
“I understand your anger.” Chumin nodded, fingers steepled in front of him. “It was not the best of all possible outcomes. But there is so much at stake here. Not the life of one or two or even three people, but thousands. Millions. Far too much hanging in the balance to leave to chance. You, my dear, must decide where your obligations lie. To one life or to the many children who will be born into want, desperation, and war.”
“Look… In a weird, fucked up way, I get what you’re saying. But it doesn’t make any of this right. None of this cloak and dagger strong-arm and assassin shit.” Tibo ran both hands over his face. How could someone who seemed so wise be able to feed himself such a load of shit? Did he really believe it? “And I sure as fucking fuck don’t understand any of this advance theory crap, so I don’t know what the hell you want with me.”
“Ah, Tiborishandelac. You do know what I want from you if you think calmly a moment.” Chumin still regarded him kindly, patiently and Tibo wasn’t sure if it confused him or freaked him out more. “We traced your travels since the moment you left New York. Every step we could verify. Yet we still haven’t been able to locate the laptop.”
“Shandi’s laptop. You’ve gotta be kidding.” Oh, gods, Meerah. You’re still safe if they’re asking me for it. Damn it, damn it, what’ve I done leaving it with you? “You already have all of it. I mean, if they used the portal to get the damn car through that ran Shandi over, you have all of it. You know how it works. You’ve used it.”
“There had to be some experimentation to verify that the equations translated to results. Yes. And yes, certain high-clearance people have access to the information. However, the laptop is the last bit of unsecured data. It must be retrieved. Destroyed. Before the information leaks out to less responsible, more mercenary parties whose only concern is for immediate profit.”
Tibo shook his head, fighting to find his voice. He wanted to tell Chumin to fuck off, but couldn’t quite bring himself to say the words to such an old goblin. “No. Hell, no. There might be people in your organization I’d have given it up to. But not you. You, sitting up here in your tower spinning your webs. I tell you, your people go get it and kill M-- the person I left it with. No.”
“That’s rather unfortunate.” Chumin tapped his claws on the desk, one white eyebrow raised. “Since I misled you a bit. I see how you look at your banshee friend. You love him dearly. Perhaps he is that one great love for you. I’m afraid the herbs in his tea have done more than help him sleep, though I do have an antidote ready. If you don’t tell me where the laptop is, your beloved Rolly dies.”
RSS Feed
Archives
July 2017
June 2017
May 2017
April 2017
March 2017
February 2017
January 2017
December 2016
November 2016
October 2016
September 2016
August 2016
July 2016
June 2016
May 2016
April 2016
March 2016
January 2016
About Marionettes in the Mist
This is a weekly Urban Fantasy serial written by participating MCB authors: Angel Martinez, Toni Griffin, J. Scott Coatsworth, and Freddy MacKay. It posts every Monday and Thursday. A total of thirty-six chapters will be written for the blog. Marionettes in the Mist will be released in three volumes that will include illustrations, story expansions, and of course, edits later on in the year.
Blurb
A fugitive skinwalker, a down-on-his-luck phoenix, a goblin rock star, and a wild dragon ranger have nothing in common except the sudden violence that tears their separate worlds apart. With wildly different motivations, each sets off on his own journey to try to solve the puzzles left in the wake of murder and mayhem.
When these four meet, the hints and clues begin to point them to something bigger, and toward answers that might make them wish they'd all stayed home.
Character Art (by Mila May)
Main Cast
Tibo - Goblin - Rock Star & Lead Singer for "The Flying Mantas"
Rolly - Banshee - Rock Star & Bassist (& sometimes baby sitter for the lead singer) of "The Flying Mantas"
Mal - Human - Dragon Ranger of the Dragon Guild
Kaden - Wolf Shifter - Accountant
Nidhogg - Himalayan Diver (dragon) - Dragon of the Dragon Guild
Ashe - Phoenix - Cowboy & Unicorn Whisperer
Jaxx - Satyr - Doctor (MD)
Nootau - Skin Walker - Construction/Trade/Craftsman
Edwige - Human - Healer (Magical Ability)
Aegeus - Merman (of Greek origin) - Youth Counselor & Advocate
Supporting Characters
Waban of the Menominee - Skin Walker - Medicine Man
Akemi Fessler - Kitsune - Solar Celestial in the Rubrum Lux
Jariah Dikoume - Human - Knight of Mars in the Rubrum Lux
Gian Doss - Human - Knight of Saturn in the Rubrum Lux
Dave Norris - Human - Drummer for The Flying Mantas
Eck Decapra - Satyr - Lead Guitarist for The Flying Mantas
Darel Balagee - Rainbow Serpent Shape-changer - Dragon Ranger of the Dragon Guild (part of Mal's team)
Categories
All
Aegeus
Akemi
Ashe
Banshee
Bernard
Chapter Eight
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Five
Chapter Four
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Nine
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter One
Chapter Seven
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Six
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Ten
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Two
Cowboy
Dark Spaces
Doctor
Dragon
Dragon Rider
Edwige
Goblin
Healer
Hello
Human
Jariah
Jaxx
Kaden
Kitsune
Magic User
Mal
Marionettes In The Mist
Meeting
Merman
Mermen
Nidhogg
Nootau
Once
Phoenix
Ranger
Rolly
Satyr
Siren
Skinwalker
Sphinx
Tibo
Trans*
Wolf Shifter
