Chaos

by Taylor Longford

  I held up my hands and started yelling, hoping Havoc would hear me from next door. "No. Chaos, no. Wait. Just wait a minute and let's talk about this."

  He shook his head. "I can't," he rasped. The long spines on his wings flexed as he leapt from the ground, his black wings stroking the air as he lifted away.

  "No!" I shouted, and started running. I threw myself into the air and tackled him at the waist, wrapping my arms around him and knotting my fingers in the belt loops on his jeans. And when he kept right on going, I watched my feet, arguing a mile a minute as we lifted above the treetops. "You can't go," I screamed. "You'll ruin everything. The pack is in Idaho Springs right now."

  "I know," he said, reaching down and pulling me up into his arms. "I heard them making their plans with that agent. I have to go. I have to protect Vilschka."

  Clinging to his shoulders, I searched his luminous gaze. "You're…not going to drop me, are you?"

  "I'm not going to drop you," he muttered, and suddenly buried his face against my neck. "I want to be with you as long as I can before I go back to that thing. If you hadn't grabbed onto me, I'd probably have circled back and picked you up."

  "Really?" I murmured.

  "Really," he rasped. "I wanted to hold you one last time. And maybe on the way back to Vilschka I can explain how my instincts command me to return to her."

  "I get that," I told him quietly and reached up to stroke my fingers along his jaw. "You don't need to explain."

  "Then maybe I can apologize," he said roughly like he was disgusted with himself.

  "You don't have anything to apologize for," I said softly.

  "Yes, I do," he answered. "Because I didn't realize how…vulnerable you were."

  "Vulnerable?" I snorted, wondering if I should be offended.

  "Aye. You always seemed so tough when you stood up to Vilschka. But you're not. You're reckless and that's different. I should have recognized it. It's not like I haven't seen it before."

  "What do you mean?" I asked, laying my cheek against the bare skin of his chest and settling into the comfort of his arms for maybe the last time.

  "People think that bravery happens when you overcome your fears and you're willing to make sacrifices for others."

  "Well doesn't it?" I asked.

  "Sometimes," he allowed. "But sometimes people do brave things because they don't care if they live or die. My friend, Malarkey, was like that."

  I wasn't sure he was on the right track because I certainly didn't want to die. I'd never been willing to take that kind of risk. "But I was afraid of Vilschka," I argued.

  "Not as afraid as you should have been," he answered. "Another lass would have spent the entire time curled up in a ball, crying."

  So I was glad that he thought I'd acted bravely but I wasn't sure he was giving enough credit to my gender. I didn't think every girl who found herself in that situation would have been helpless with fear.

  "I didn't realize how difficult your life had been while you were growing up and how the events that shaped your life had made you…"

  "A loser?" I suggested.

  "You're not a loser," he argued gently. "You're just…what's the word?"

  "Loser," I repeated bluntly.

  "Nay," he sighed. "It's more like…idealistic or introspective."

  The way he said it made it sound like it wasn't a bad thing but I wasn't convinced. "What's that supposed to mean?" I challenged him sourly.

  "You don't fit it because you don't think like everyone else. Most people talk about things or other people. You're more interested in ideas."

  "Why do you say that?" I snorted cynically.

  He shrugged. "You're a lot like me."

  I looked at him and blinked. "Really?"

  "Quit smiling," he said. But he was smiling too. "Anyhow, the events that shaped your life made you reckless and…almost dangerously defiant. I made the mistake of thinking were tough when you really don't have much confidence. And you don't know…how amazing you are. So I'm sorry because I could have told you."

  "Told me what?" I asked, fishing for more compliments. Yeah, I'm shameless that way.

  "How I felt about you. How much you meant to me. How happy I was when we were together, even though we were trapped in that cold mine with the monster."

  "But you never showed much interest in me…well, besides the pretend groping incident. Not that I noticed, anyhow."

  "We were alone in the dark. There was nothing and no one to interrupt us. I was afraid if I got started I wouldn't be able to stop."

  "Well, it might not have been all bad," I snickered. "At least it would have warmed us up."

  "It would have gotten warm, alright," he answered moodily. "But even though I wasn't ready to involve you in that kind of risk, I could have said something. I could have made you feel better about yourself with just a few words."

  "What kind of words?" I asked breathlessly.

  He looked down at me with a melancholy smile on his face and opened his mouth to answer, but right then, my phone started chiming Epona's song from Zelda. Talk about bad timing. I mean, I knew the call had to be from the pack and it was important but…damn. I dug in my pocket to answer it, feeling kinda sad that the close moment between us had been shattered. It was MacKenzie calling.

  "Is that a phone?" Chaos asked, his voice suddenly hard and even kinda threatening.

  I jerked my eyes to his face and stared at him. My thumb was hovering over the screen, ready to take the call.

  A chilling light flickered in his eyes. "If you try to answer it, I'll take it from you and drop it to the ground," he growled.

  I knew his instincts were messing with him but it still amazed me how his emotions could swing from one extreme to the other. I knew he wouldn't hurt me but I also knew he'd follow through on his threat to drop the phone so I ignored the call and slipped the cell back in the pocket of my hoodie.

  And as long as I couldn't use my phone, I figured it was time to get some other things out of the way. I still felt bad about the things I'd said to him after he'd sacrificed his future for me. And I figured it might be my last chance to say I was sorry. "You know when I accused you of being a harpy?" I started.

  Just like that, his expression turned soft again and I couldn't help but smile. "Don't beat yourself up about that, Tor. I told you not to blame yourself."

  "Don't interrupt," I lectured him sternly. "I need to do this. I won't feel right until I apologize for the way I behaved and the things I said."

  "What about me?" he argued, surprising me.

  "What about you?" I exclaimed.

  "Don't you think I should apologized for my behavior?"

  "What behavior?" I asked, confused.

  "Don't you think I should apologize for the times I lost my temper and got angry with you? Like the time you were singing and the harpy got mad?"

  "That wasn't the same," I said, and lifted a hand dismissively.

  "Sure it was," he insisted.

  "But you had a good reason to act the way you did. A damn good reason."

  "That's what I like about," he murmured, and brushed his lips over my cheek. "You always think the best of everyone."

  I chewed on the inside of my bottom lip, thinking about the one time that I hadn't and how wrong I'd been. How it had almost ruined my life.

  "And you always forgive everyone else," he continued before I could argue. "But it drives me crazy too, because you never forgive yourself."

  "Well, I figure people usually have a good reason for the way they behave," I mumbled.

  Chaos snorted. "You think people have a good reason for being mean?"

  I thought back to the kids at school and the guy at the Boulder skate park. I had to admit some of the things they said and did were mean. Maybe even inexcusably mean. "I didn't forgive that harpy," I pointed out in a small voice.

  He smiled. "She was bad."

  "Aye, she was bad," I agreed.

  "Aye?" he questioned me.

&nbs
p; "It means yes," I told him, lifting my chin primly.

  He laughed softly then his expression turned serious. "That girl outside the garage today was bad too."

  "Alexa?"

  "Aye. I want you to stay away from her. She's dangerous."

  "'Kay," I agreed quietly, wondering how dangerous she could be to me now that I had this super strength and everything. Unfortunately, thinking about my new powers made me start worrying about my persistent case of harpyitis.

  "What's wrong?" Chaos asked, as if he sensed the change in my mood.

  I didn't know how to start but I had to say something. It would have been irresponsible to just ignore all of the bizarre things that had been happening to me lately. "There's something else. Something I need to warn you about."

  "What is it, Torrie?"

  I took a deep breath. "You need to know that…I'm not sure you should trust me."

  "What do you mean?" he asked, his sea foam eyes glowing down on me with a pale light.

  "Something's happening to me but I'm not sure what, exactly. I'm afraid I might be turning into a harpy."

  Chaos laughed. He actually laughed even though the whole situation was SO not funny. "That's not possible," he told me.

  "Then why am I so strong all of a sudden? And why is my hearing so good? And why can I sense things about people?"

  He was silent for a few heartbeats then he said, "Those aren't harpy traits, Torrie. They're gargoyle traits."

  "So, I'm not turning into a harpy?" I ventured tentatively.

  "Nay," he answered quietly.

  "Am I…turning into a gargoyle?"

  "There are no female gargoyles," he said, his voice soft in my ear.

  "Then what's happening?" I asked, confused.

  He slid me a shuttered look. "I gave you some of my venom. And that might have—"

  "You did? But I don't remember…"

  "It was the flavoring I put on the snowballs."

  "But wh-why? Why would you do that?"

  He took in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "Because I wanted you to build up a resistance to my poison in case I accidentally scratched you with my barbs while we were stuck with the harpy in that dark mine. And because the venom has some nourishing value when it's diluted in small quantities. And there was always a chance that I'd be able to give you my rune before I was forced to give it to the harpy although I didn't think the harpy would wait long enough for you to be marked before she made her move."

  "But haven't the other girls taken the venom to build up a resistance? Mac and Mim and Elaina? Do they have my symptoms?"

  "I doubt it," he answered. "Normally the venom works its way through the system and most of it exits the body, but you were starving and your body must have…kept it all because it needed it. And it must have been absorbed into your…what's the word?"

  "Cells?" I suggested.

  "Aye. It must have been totally absorbed."

  "Oh," I answered quietly. "But why did it take so long? It's been like two months since you gave me the venom."

  He shrugged and smiled gently. "I don't think changes like that happen overnight."

  "Do you think the effect will wear off in time?"

  "Probably not," he answered apologetically.

  I smiled. "Good," I said, and snuggled into his arms.

  "So…you don't mind?" he asked as we glided across the sky.

  "Let's see," I mused. "I have super hearing, super strength and super ability to tell nice people from nasty ones. Uh, nope."

  A gruff laugh rumbled in his chest. "Well, there's more good news. You're probably immune to any dangerous effects from the venom, even though you didn't take it for the two weeks normally required to build up a resistance. So you don't have to worry about an accidental scratch from the rest of my family."

  As I nodded, something else occurred to me. "Do you think I'll grow wings?"

  "I don't think so," he answered with a deep laugh. "Although they'd be cute on you. Only—"

  "Only what?" I asked.

  His lopsided smile turned a little wicked. "They'd probably flatten you in front when you folded them down over your chest. And that would be a shame."

  I gave him a soft punch in the shoulder but I was laughing as I did it so he probably didn't take it very seriously.

  "Torrie?" he eventually murmured as we drifted through the air, high above the snow-covered slopes.

  "Hmm?"

  "Talk to me," he said in a voice that seemed a little vulnerable especially for someone as tough as him. "Tell me what you've been doing. What you thought of my family. Just…talk to me. I've missed that."

  "Your family's really nice," I said sincerely. "Everything you told me about them was true."

  "I was so jealous of Havoc when I saw you together," he growled darkly. "But if he likes you I think you should get together with him. He's a lot like me. Maybe a little crazier but…"

  "I could never do that," I interrupted him, appalled that he would think I'd jump on one of his cousins if I couldn't have him. "Havoc isn't that into me and it would break Sophie's heart."

  "That's not the only heart that would be broken," he said soberly, a quiet sadness shadowing his eyes.

  And you know what? Normally, I would have asked what he meant, because normally I always say the stupid wrong thing. But I didn't have to ask. Because I knew. I knew he was talking about himself and his heart. And that realization would have made me happy except that it was so sad, because he was going back to the harpy and I might never see him again…unless the pack could kill Vilschka before Chaos reached her. But they hadn't expected to be successful in ending her life. They were just going to bury her in a mine. And if Chaos attacked them, Simpson might end up killing him in self-defense. Because the pack hadn't told the agent about him. And MacKenzie wasn't there to change the gargoyle into stone and take him out of the picture.

  So things didn't look good as we got closer to Idaho Springs. And if the pack hadn't taken out the harpy by the time we got there, there wasn't much standing between Chaos a lifetime of captivity with that monster. Only me. A few hours earlier, I wouldn't have had the confidence to think I could make any kind of difference. But Chaos had said I was tough and reckless and…and idealistic. Okay, so I was still a long way from being hero material, but I thought a girl with those personality traits might be able to do something.

  "I'll put you down near the road," he said, interrupting my thoughts as we flew over a high ridge top and the highway just east of Idaho Springs came into view. "You can probably call someone to pick you up, right?"

  I didn't tell him that help was probably already on the way. Havoc would have contacted Valor by now. But the help would probably arrive on foot or by car since I doubted the gargoyles would use their wings in front of Simpson. "Right," I answered, "since you so kindly didn't destroy my phone."

  You're probably wondering how I could be joking at a time like that. But I felt a weird surge of hope growing inside me. Down by the highway, the spring runoff had swollen the narrow Clear Creek into a churning mass of water that boiled over the rocks, and I dug in my pocket as the outline of a plan formed in my head.

  "Down there," I said, pointing to the side of the river, and he put me on my feet right where the snow gave way to the spongy green grass that sloped down to the water.

  Vilschka must have picked up Chaos's scent as we topped the ridge because she was on us like black on a funeral, landing on the strip of green beside the river and avoiding the freezing snow. As her feet touched the ground, I noticed the pale scars slashing across her black wings; but the damage Havoc had inflicted two weeks earlier had largely healed and she was definitely up and flying again. More immediately, the pack hadn't managed to kill her or trap her in a mine. Maybe they'd aborted their mission when they got the news from home.

  As the pack had predicted, the harpy had used her supply of venom to extend her indestructible strength and was hugely changed from the last time I'd seen he
r. She wasn't exactly beautiful, but she was magnificent. That didn't make her any less scary but the fact that she wasn't ugly anymore was a problem that might screw up my plan. I hoped that instincts and old habit would work in my favor.

  As she hulked over us, the other difference in her appearance was the rune emblazoned on her upper arm. And I mean emblazoned. Evidently, when Chaos scratched his mark on Vilschka's arm, the venom didn't soak into her rocky hide like it would have on a human girl. Instead, it seemed to boil on the surface, burning with a fiery blue light. The hot cobalt glow drew my gaze and I couldn't help the dark resentment that churned up inside me. Even though Chaos hadn't said anything definite about his feelings for me, I couldn't help but think the rune should have been mine.

  The dark-haired gargoyle stood with his wings outspread, shielding me from the monster. "She wasn't involved in this," he barked at the harpy, extending his arms to protect me. "My family took me away from you. But I came back. I came back to protect you. Let her go."

  He flicked a look back at me and our eyes connected. And unlike all of those bad dreams that I'd had after I'd escaped from the mine, there was no hurt or anger or accusation in his gaze. Only a fierce look of affection burned in the luminescent color of his eyes.

  And I knew what I had to do.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nervous but determined, I eased out from behind Chaos's back and stepped away from him. As I'd hoped, Vilschka shifted to keep me in her sights. "Yeah, let me go," I shouted over the roar of the river behind her back. "He doesn't want me. He wants you. Although, personally, I don't know what he sees in you. I may not be a raving beauty but I'm not a monster like you." And lunging forward, I snapped open the compact in my hand, shoving it at her face.

  Yeah, it was lame. Yeah, it was my Dorothy-versus-the-wicked-witch moment. I didn't know it was going to work any more than Dorothy knew the witch was going to melt when she threw that bucket of water at her. But don't laugh, because it worked.

  A look of horror twisted across the harpy's features as she automatically recoiled at the sight of the mirror. As she jerked backward, her foot slipped on a round wet rock and she lost her balance. For an instant, she teetered, then tilted toward the river. But I wasn't leaving anything to chance. She was big but I could bench press two hundred pounds. I lowered my shoulder and charged her, catching her in the stomach and knocking her into the wild flow of water. Because I'd been paying attention when Havoc told Agent Simpson that harpies can't swim.