When neither Violet nor Sagan spoke, the man’s grin fell, but the bloodlust glint in his eyes remained. He gestured with his weapon. “The way I see it, you’ve got two choices. You can both come with me alive or . . . not alive.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Either way, you’re coming with me.”
Sagan’s hand felt for the bag that was between him and Violet.
“Uh-uh,” warned the man. “Don’t even think about it, Sagan. Hands where I can see them. You too, missy.”
Acid bit at Violet’s throat as her stomach threatened to empty.
The glittering head of Gray Beard’s crossbow bolt caught Violet’s eye again. She needed to get out. Her mind screamed at her to get out. Run! But fear still paralyzed her. She could slam her foot on the accelerator, but at what cost? Would Gray Beard’s crossbow hit her or Sagan before she could get the car moving?
Sagan raised his hands.
Gray Beard looked pointedly at her when she didn’t move. Her breath quickened into shallow pants as she dropped her switchblade into her lap and also raised her hands.
The man smirked. “Glad to see you can both follow simple instructions. That’ll make my job easier.”
She jolted at the man’s sudden husky laughter.
“You should see the looks on your faces. Especially yours.” He pointed to Sagan. “How primitive do you think we are? Did you seriously think we would let you steal that slith and escape so easily? You stupid boy.”
Violet’s mind whirled. What was this guy talking about? What on earth was a slith? And why did Sagan steal it? What kind of trouble had Sagan got himself involved in? Sagan was . . . he was . . . Actually she hardly knew. Violet hadn’t seen much of him after Lyla’s death.
Sagan was still faced away from her. She had no way of guessing what he would do next.
“I’ll come with you,” said Sagan. “Just let her go.”
Gray Beard met his request with an incredulous look. “How stupid do you think I am? You seriously think I don’t recognize a bounty when I see one?” He rummaged in one of his jeans pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.
The paper had a photo of Violet on it. Her stomach dropped. He wasn’t implying that . . . she . . . ?
Her fingers twitched, aching to grab the steering wheel.
The arrow flashed in the sunlight as the hunter bounced on his toes, chuckling. “Hell, it must be my lucky day. Not only did I stumble across another slith”—he inclined his head to the creature on the road—“but then you lead me straight to your little payday girlfriend here.” He pointed his weapon at Violet.
Her heart pounded, threatening to break through her ribcage.
He crumpled up the paper, put it back in his pocket, then whistled. “This girl’s bounty is worth a fortune. I’m gonna enjoy this month’s bonus, that’s for damn sure.” Gray Beard’s amused expression turned stony. “Now, turn the car off and get out.”
Sagan didn’t move, so Violet didn’t either.
The man raised the crossbow, setting his sight on her. “I won’t say it again,” he said, each word slow and deliberate.
For a few heartbeats, no one even seemed to breathe. The hum of the engine filled the silence.
Then the shrill tune of Violet’s ringtone cut through the tension like a chainsaw. She jumped in her seat. In the half second it took her to glance at her phone in the footwell, Sagan moved with lightning speed.
Gray Beard jolted back with a half spin as Sagan sliced a dagger across his shoulder. He growled and attempted to re-aim the crossbow at them.
“Drive! Drive! Drive!” Sagan yelled.
Violet shifted the car into gear and slammed her foot on the accelerator. Panic gripped her throat as the jeep didn’t take off straightaway, instead skidding and fishtailing on the gravel.
Just as she felt the car’s wheels finally grip solid road, Sagan screamed.
She looked over at him. A metal crossbow bolt had pierced straight through not only the car door but also Sagan’s leg, just above the knee. The arrowhead glittered as if made from diamond—diamond smeared with blood.
“Oh, no! Sagan!”
“Don’t slow down! Drive faster!” he yelled through gritted teeth.
The engine revved louder as she accelerated down the road, but she kept glancing over at Sagan. His black jeans grew darker and glistened around the metal jutting out of his leg.
“Tell me what to do, Sagan. How can I help?”
“Just drive. Whatever you do, don’t stop.” He made a tourniquet with his belt around his upper thigh, then paused for a few moments, sucking in a few deep breaths.
“What are you doing?”
Sagan didn’t answer. He took hold of the tail end of the bolt and began shoving it farther through his thigh, crying out in pain as the bolt inched forward.
“What are you doing?” Violet shrieked. “Stop it! I’ll get you to a hospital as soon as I can.”
“No hospitals. Just keep driving,” he said, his words laced with torment.
“Sagan, stop! You’re making it worse.”
He continued, hissing in agony. “I have to pull it out.”
“Please, just wait until I can find a hospital. A doctor will cut it out.”
“I said no hospitals!”
“Fine! At least wait until I pull over so I can help you.”
“No! Don’t stop! They’ll find us if you do. This thing has a tracking device inside one of its barbs.”
“What?” Violet rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Are you saying that guy is tracking us?” She looked in the rearview mirror, expecting a vehicle to speed into view.
“Yes. That’s why I need to get rid of it as soon as possible.” He groaned, his hands dripping crimson as he shoved the barbed bolt farther.
Violet wished she could cover her ears and drown out Sagan’s agonized cries. With one last wretched moan, he yanked the bolt free and held it up. Spindled barbs beneath the arrowhead still clung to red chunks of his flesh.
Violet’s gag reflex kicked into action, and the acrid taste of bile hit her tongue. She covered her mouth with one hand.
Sagan flung the bolt out of the window and slumped back into his seat. Sluggishly, he rummaged once again into his bag and pulled out a glass vial containing a white pearlescent liquid.
“Whoa,” said Violet. “What’s that stuff?”
“It’s best you don’t know.” Sagan pulled off the stopper. He poured some of the liquid onto his leg, then tilted his head back and took a sip. Gagging, he wiped his mouth with the shoulder part of his sleeve.
“Who was that guy?” Violet asked.
“Axel.”
Violet took note of Sagan’s other injuries. “Why is that Axel guy after you? What happened?”
The next few moments were quiet, apart from Sagan’s ragged pants. “I did something that really pissed off my father. He sent Axel after me, who ambushed me at my house. I managed to escape out the back door, and I cut through the forest until I found the road out of town.”
“And what about that other guy—that thing with the scales and spikes?”
“It was . . . umm . . .” He mumbled the next few words as his head began to droop.
Violet shook his shoulder. “Sagan? What was that thing?”
He raised his head with a heavy intake of air. “It was a Veniri.”
“A what? What is a—”
Sagan kept talking. “But don’t worry, Violet . . .”
She couldn’t make out the rest of his words, other than something about a shield.
“Why was that guy after me?”
No answer.
“Sagan?”
She glanced over at him. His eyes were shut, and his head slumped to one side.
“Sagan?”
Still no answer. She tapped on his shoulder. “Sagan, I need you to tell me where to go.”
Nothing.
She choked on a sob and gripped the steering wheel, trying to swallow her rising pani
c. What the hell did she know about escaping from psychopathic beard guys? What if he was still tracking them? What if he managed to get another device attached to the back of the car? She should stop the car and check.
No! Sagan had told her not to stop. That would give Axel the opportunity to catch up.
She pressed harder on the accelerator, and the engine roared. The trees on either side of the road whipped by faster. Faster. Faster.
A shrill tune blasted up from her footwell. She jumped and let out a startled shriek, causing the car to wobble and weave into the wrong lane. The ringing continued as she released some pressure on the accelerator and got the car back under control. She glanced at Sagan, but he hadn’t even stirred.
Reaching into the footwell, she spotted Gus’s name flashing on the phone’s screen.
“Gus?”
“Violet! What the hell is going on? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. At least . . . I’m . . .” Her words caught in her throat.
She could hear Autumn in the background. Then both their voices became loud and clear, talking over each other, as Gus—she assumed—put the phone on speaker.
Relief overwhelmed her panic, and she burst into tears. “Oh my gosh, guys. You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voices.”
“Violet, what’s going on?” asked Gus.
Violet heaved a few teary sighs. “It’s a long and crazy story.”
“Tell us everything,” demanded Autumn.
26
Seh’vuthi
Foggy tendrils of awareness prodded the edges of Nathan’s mind. How long had he been asleep, and how long did he have before he was dragged back into oblivion? Profound exhaustion tugged at his limbs, but something nagged at him—something he needed to do. What was it?
Tight mesh clung to his body, binding his legs together and his arms to his chest. He tried to wiggle his fingers, but he barely managed a weak twitch. A tingling sensation tickled his scales. He was in Veniri form? Why? When had he changed?
Where am I?
He was on his back, his body gently rocking as a growling hum sent vibrations through the hard surface he was lying on. He had to be in the back of some kind of vehicle. A van maybe? Something else lay on his left, bumping into his shoulder at regular intervals.
With a slight jolt, the swaying stopped. The vibration beneath him continued, though the growling hum had quieted to a soft purr.
With a faint click and bang, a car door opened and closed. A few seconds later, the back door swung open, casting a bright light onto Nathan’s closed eyelids. Even the minuscule action of raising his heavy lids was near impossible, but he managed to open his eyes long enough to drag his gaze over a familiar face.
Thane.
“It’s about time you showed up, Axel,” said a male voice from outside the vehicle. “Where’s the Branstone boy?”
“Gone,” said a lower, more gravelly voice.
A string of violent curses followed.
Nathan tried his best to keep the fog in his brain at bay as he listened to the rest of the conversation.
“Keep your knickers on,” said the guy called Axel. “I managed to get a tracking barb in his car.” He grunted as if lifting something heavy. A second later, something thudded next to Nathan on his right. “I found this one when I was chasing the boy.”
The first voice huffed. “Did you have to stab it so many times? I’m going to have to hose all the blood out when we get back. Why couldn’t you have used stun nets like we did with these two?”
Axel scoffed. “Where’s the fun in that? So you got the runaway then? Where’d the other slith come from?”
“Dunno. Picked it up with the runaway.”
“Seems like these things multiply quicker than we can kill them.”
“Just as well. The more we kill the more we get paid.”
Axel chuckled. “Speaking of getting paid, I found that girl too. She drove off with the boy.”
“That Violet girl?”
Nathan’s attention peaked. Violet.
“Yep” came the reply.
A tongue clicked. “I still don’t understand that bounty. What’s so special about her? She’s just a human.”
“As long as I get paid, I don’t care,” said Axel.
“Then let’s go get ’em and get paid.”
The door banged shut, and before long, the swaying recommenced.
Nathan’s pulse began to race. Where were he and Thane being taken? He searched his mind, trying to peer past the blackness that shrouded his memories. Anything to give him a clue.
Those men had mentioned . . .
Violet!
Where was she? Where was Violet?
Her face materialized through the fog of his mind’s eye with startling clarity, almost as if he could reach out and touch her. But greedy tentacles of dread latched on to her shoulders and arms and twisted around her neck, snatching her back. She screamed, reached out to him, begged him to save her, but the tentacles stifled her cries. They were dragging her toward a grassy field with three tombstones—the graves of Nathan’s closest loved ones.
No! Not Violet too!
In his mind, he lunged and grabbed her extended hand, using every ounce of his depleted energy to pull her into a tight embrace. Instead of fighting him, the tentacles ensnared him too and dragged him along toward Violet’s doom.
A yell cut through Nathan’s nightmare. Fierce expletives came from the front of the car.
“That damn boy got rid of the tracker!”
“So which way do I go now?”
“I don’t know!” roared the voice.
Nathan’s black fog drowned out the developing argument. He couldn’t fight it anymore. In his mind, he still clutched Violet tight as the tentacles released their hold, retreating back into the depths.
Then the fog swallowed him and Violet, sending them both into a deep abyss.
“Nathan?”
Nathan stirred at the soft sound of his name.
“Nathan? Are you awake?”
He tried to answer but only managed a groggy moan.
“Nathan, wake up.”
He opened his eyes and blinked; darkness pressed against his vision. “Thane?”
“Yeah, it’s me” came the reply from his left.
Nathan tried to turn his head, but the net over his face still hampered his movements. “Damn it,” he said as a rush of memories flooded back, reminding him of the grim situation they were in. Thankfully, the fog in his mind had cleared somewhat. The tranquilizer was losing its effect. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know,” said Thane. “It feels like we’ve been driving for hours.”
“How long have you been awake?”
“Um, not sure. Maybe an hour? I tried waking you up, but you were pretty out of it.”
Nathan groaned. His stiff body desperately needed repositioning, but there was no chance the net encapsulating his body would allow it. “Any chance you’ve figured out where they’re taking us?”
“None.” A few seconds of silence passed before Thane continued, panic edging into his voice. “So what do we do now? How do we get to Violet? We need to get out of here and go find her. We need to—”
“I know, I know. Just try to stay calm.” Nathan wasn’t about to admit his own escalating panic. “At the moment there’s nothing we can do, unless you’ve managed to get free of your net.”
“Nope. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Nathan drew in a long breath through his nose. “Okay, so we’ll just have to wait. Once we know what’s going on, then maybe we can come up with a plan.”
Nathan tried to keep his mind from spinning, from uselessly analyzing and reanalyzing all that had happened in the last few days. He needed to focus on something else—talk about something else.
“So, you’ve been spending all this time with Violet. How did you keep your tattoo hidden?”
“Scarves at first. Then I came across a concealer that did the trick
.”
“It must not have done the trick very well if she saw it.”
Thane groaned. “I had a lapse in concentration, and I, um . . . forgot to put it on. And as you can imagine, all hell broke loose.”
Nathan couldn’t help a small scoff. “What did you expect? Her trauma was so extensive the shield couldn’t hide everything. That detail became the padlock to her memories. Seeing your tattoo was the trigger to unlock it all.” Nathan tried to shake his head, but the net held him firm. “She must have been in agony when it all came crashing back.”
Thane groaned. “Yeah, that part was the worst.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
“Up until that moment, things were going great. Other than the incident with the girl at her college, Violet was . . . happy.”
Nathan stared at the darkened ceiling of the trunk. “How you guys met—you know, the second time.”
“Right, the second time,” said Thane after a nervous laugh. He recounted the story of bumping into Violet at the coffee shop. “After that we just began hanging out, you know, just chatting over coffee and chai. And then I . . .” Thane cleared his throat. “I helped her out with one of her assignments, and then we . . . actually, there was this, um . . .”
“What?” Nathan asked when Thane didn’t continue.
“There were these weird golden lights.”
Nathan frowned.
“I have no idea what they were,” continued Thane. “It was kinda freaky.”
“You said they were golden?”
“Yeah.”
“Did they radiate from your skin?”
“Yeah. How did you—”
Nathan cursed under his breath. Regardless of what he thought about Thane’s relationship with Violet, this was more serious than he’d imagined. And clearly, it was out of his control. “What color were Violet’s lights?”
“Violet’s? What do you mean? She . . . there were only golden lights.”
Nathan released a heavy breath.
“Nathan? Do you know what it is?”
“What you experienced was the beginning of Seh’Vuthi.”
“No,” said Thane after a pause. “It can’t be. That’s . . . that’s forbidden.”
Shards of Venus Page 22
