by A L Fogerty
“Sorry, Felix. If we had a wagon, you could take them all.” Kayla patted his arm apologetically.
“Yeah. I’ll have to empty my packs as it is.”
“Whoa!” Riddick’s voice cracked through the stillness of the room.
Kayla gasped and hurried to him, feeling his excitement vibrating through their cord of connection. “What is it?” She ran into the alcove where he stood.
He was eyeing a mandolin behind a wall of glass.
“Look at it,” he whispered with reverence. “It’s a Gibson Custom.”
“Nice,” Kayla said, glad he wasn’t being attacked.
Riddick opened the sealed encasement and gripped the instrument in his trembling hand. “I’m playing a hand-me-down Ibanez used for children’s lessons. It’s nothing like this.”
“I guess that’s why they’ve got it on display.”
“Looks like it was signed,” Riddick said, inspecting the instrument.
“Oh. Who by?”
“I don’t know. Can’t make out the signature.”
He tuned the strings then strummed. Even after two decades, the strings held a tune. The sound reverberated through the library. “What an amazing find,” he whispered.
Kayla watched with wide eyes as Riddick plucked out a lively tune about less conversation and more action. Willa approached, grinning. “What is that?”
“Elvis.”
“What are you doing?” Felix asked, teetering under the weight of another stack of books.
“Did you pick up more books?” Kayla asked, giving him the stink eye.
“No. I mean, yes. A couple. Five. Ten books aren’t too many.”
“Your poor horse.”
“I found this one in the archives.” He motioned to the one at the top of the stack under his chin. “Very special. Can’t leave it behind.”
“Okay then, if we’re done here…”
“What about gold?” Willa asked Riddick.
“I found my gold,” Riddick said, finding a strap under the glass case. He attached it to the mandolin and slung it over his back.
They hurried outside into the fading light of late afternoon. Sid and Mackenzie hadn’t seen any action while the others were inside. Everyone but Felix mounted up. He fumbled to find a place for all his books in his saddlebags. Sid, taking pity on him, packed a few books in his own bags. Everyone else took one for him, finally freeing him to mount his horse.
They turned east, heading across the river and out of the city for what Kayla hoped would be forever. They crossed from downtown and its massive skyscrapers into a sea of parking lots and derelict brick buildings over a bridge. The sun faded behind them, casting long shadows ahead. The horses’ hooves clicked lazily on the pavement. Everyone was worn out, exhausted from the day of running and hiding. They needed to make it out of the city before sunset, make camp, and try to rest up a bit before the long trek back home.
They passed a three-story brick monolith with a massive cross emblazoned on the side, overgrown, grassy parking lots, and fields with rusted swing sets and slides. Kayla could almost hear the long-silenced laughter of children. A shiver went down her spine at the memory of the little ghost girl who’d scratched her. The wound on her arm throbbed.
They made it out of the city and into the suburban sprawl beyond and found a house free of zombies and ghosts. Just to be sure, Mackenzie went from room to room with the spirit box open, and Willa cast a shield. They left the horses in the high-fenced backyard and retired into the dusty old three-story brick mansion.
Everyone found a bedroom of their own, stripped the beds, and covered them with their furs and blankets. They met in the dining room, lit with candles and lanterns, and shared their meager rations. Kayla and Bane hadn’t hunted for days, and all the fresh meat was long gone. All that was left was dry jerky and stale oat bread baked a week ago in Mist Valley.
After dinner, Kayla retired to her room and prepared for bed. Riddick walked in with his lantern, mandolin, and a bottle of vodka.
“How is it that you always find the alcohol?”
“I have a nose for it.”
“Yes, you do.”
He sat on the bed with her, filling her cup with vodka. He strummed the mandolin, singing softly about not being able to help falling in love as Kayla sipped her drink. The alcohol slid down her throat in a warm flush, relaxing her body as she sank into the soft mattress. She closed her eyes and listened to Riddick play. His song was soft and sweet, filling her world with a light tenderness that was often absent in those trying times. As the notes of the song faded, she opened her eyes and smiled, leaning over on her arm to kiss him. She winced when a stab of pain radiated through her. He looked at her with deep concern, picking up her arm and gently pulling back the bandage. The scratches had turned an angry red and were oozing yellow-and-green fluid.
“This doesn’t look good,” Riddick said.
“I’ll show Felix in the morning.”
“You need to do something about this now. I’ll go get him.”
A few moments later, Felix walked into the room as Kayla was pulling the soaked, sticky bandage from her arm. He looked down at the wound and grimaced.
“This is bad,” Felix said. “We’ll need to lance it.”
“Lance?” Kayla raised an eyebrow.
“It’s infected. We need to bleed the wound to release the toxin, or it won’t heal.”
“You know what you’re doing?” Riddick demanded.
“I have studied a bit of medicine. Nothing like Quinn. I always gave him any medical books I came across. And he has his healing prayers. I can’t do what he does. But I do understand some fundamentals.”
“Just do it,” Kayla said. “It can’t be any worse than this.”
“You might want to come downstairs. It’s going to get messy.”
She followed Felix down the stairs to the kitchen, and he asked her for her hunting knife. She pulled it out of the scabbard on her waist and handed it to him. He held it over a flame then washed it off with vodka.
“Riddick, you should hold her. It’s going to hurt. Kayla, you have to stay still, or I might hit an artery.”
“Comforting.”
Riddick stood behind her, gripped her wrist, and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pinning her to the sink.
“You do realize that Kayla can flatten me?” Riddick asked Felix.
“Just try to stay still, Kayla.”
The feeling of Riddick’s body was reassuring, but when the blade sliced into her skin, she groaned. The pain was intense. Felix sliced deeper, opening the scratch even further. Green-and-yellow pus burst from the wound, mixing with blood as it poured into the sink. She felt faint from the pain and the blood loss, but he wasn’t finished. He sliced open all four gashes on her skin, each one releasing more pus and blood into the white basin. It slid down the drain, and Kayla felt herself going weak in the knees.
Riddick felt her losing strength but held her up, not letting her fall to the kitchen floor. Felix poured alcohol over the wound. It stung like murder, and Kayla tried to hold back the scream that ripped through her. But it wasn’t possible. Everyone else in the house gathered around, wide-eyed and shocked.
The stench of the pus was overwhelming. Felix bandaged the wound with fresh gauze, and Riddick helped Kayla sit on a chair at the kitchen table. She cradled her arm against her chest, tears from the pain sliding down her cheeks. Riddick poured her more vodka, and she drank it down in one gulp. He poured her another. After draining the second shot, she felt herself growing lightheaded. So much for being an ultra-powerful alpha, she thought.
She felt herself growing hazy. Riddick picked her up and cradled her in his arms, carefully carrying her back to their room. He tucked her under the furs and climbed in beside her, careful not to brush against her wound or disrupt her body.
“I’m going to stay right here beside you.”
“Thank you,” she managed, slowly drifting into a black sleep full of pai
n and hidden terror.
When she woke, her head was woozy and her body weak. She climbed out of bed and sat on the side. She found her canteen and chugged down every last drop of water. When it was gone, she wiped her mouth with the back of her healthy arm and looked behind her to see Riddick still sleeping. The furs rose and fell with his gentle breath. She let out a long sigh and placed her hand on his hip. He was so beautiful, joyous, clever, and quick. She loved him more with each day.
“How are you?” he asked, opening his eyes.
“Better.” The stinging ache had turned into a dull throb. “We best get moving.” She tried to hurry, climbing down the stairs while cradling her arm against her chest.
Felix saw her from his spot at the kitchen table. He’d fashioned a piece of cloth into a sling. “I want you to let me check that wound every few hours.” He helped her into the sling. “We need to make sure it’s healing and that the infection hasn’t returned.”
“Not a problem.” Her voice sounded distant and ragged.
They saddled their horses. Riddick and Sid helped her with everything she needed. Lightning sent her an impression of concern. She smirked. Her unruly stallion was showing his love for his mistress.
“I’ll be fine, Lightning,” she said through their mental link. “Just try to heed my commands for the rest of the journey.” He pawed the ground and bobbed his head, sending her an impression of compliance.
She nodded, hoping it was true. As they made their way out of the suburbs of the City of Ghosts and deeper into the countryside, the smell of the forest and grasslands washed over her, filling her heart and soul with contentment. Cities, any cities, made her feel trapped and anxious. But the City of Ghosts had been the worst. Even Dark Haven and Hell City had a lot over that place.
It had been a nightmare. But like Felix and Riddick, Kayla carried with her a souvenir from their stay in the ghost town, a souvenir that was more than skin deep.
Long days on the road didn’t lessen the growing sense of darkness and despair. Even as the wound seemed to heal, a trickling evil began to shroud her, gripping her with its claws. She wanted to brush it off and believe it was her imagination. But as she began to fantasize about clawing the two young witches to death, Kayla knew something was terribly wrong.
She wanted to tell Riddick. Tell anyone. But a deep sense of shame wouldn’t let her open her mouth. She had to keep it to herself. If she told her friends, they would turn on her. They would abandon her. She would lose the love and companionship of her mates. All three of them would turn their backs on her.
She was so wholly convinced as much that she dared not breathe a word of her concerns to anyone. She depended on the men for their love and support.
But something else was growing, something dark, needy, and violent. Her men belonged to her. They were hers to serve her and to bend to her will, to give her pleasure and to be used in any way she saw fit.
These thoughts filled her mind, but try as she might, she could not push them aside. The disturbing sense of darkness grew inside her, beginning to feel second nature. It was no longer something separate from her, nor could she remember a time where she had been without it. It was as if it had always been there.
She knew she had to pretend to be the old Kayla, calm, good, giving, and so revoltingly humble about her power. The girl she had once been disgusted her. She resolved to remove that old self from existence.
Slowly, she would reveal her new, true nature to those meant to serve her. They would respect her power. She would bring them all to heel. Jagger believed he knew what was best for her and the pack, but she was alpha. She was the leader. She was the powerful one.
He would no longer be allowed to treat her like an inferior. He would not make decisions without her permission. In fact, she needed him to know in no uncertain terms that he must always submit. He would bend to her will and would only carry out her commands. There would be no more acting on his own and no more behaving as if he was the second alpha.
Quinn and his simpering dependence on the goddess was another problem. Wolf Mother was a goddess of the past, from a time before the world had come to its proper alignment. Quinn should have had no loyalties except to his alpha.
Kayla’s destiny was to unite the shifters and bring them back to their rightful place as the rulers of earth. Shifters were losing their strength because they hid in the forest, becoming nothing more than glorified humans.
She wouldn’t let that happen. She would bring the shifters to a new and mighty place among the races. They would have selective breeding. Those capable of shifting would mate with each other. Alphas would mate with natural shifters. Love matches would no longer be of concern. Soon, the shifters would have their power back.
They would take their own cities. They would no longer sit out in the forest like animals. There had been a time when shifters were the strongest race on earth. Their natural prowess and physicality made them successful beyond measure in the human world. Their shifter bite made them deadly against vampires and witches.
When the other supernaturals were hiding in the shadows, shifters were out becoming famous actors, musicians, captains of industry, and world-class athletes. Almost every world-class, record-breaking athlete in the history of sport had been a shifter. It was time for shifters to take their rightful place in the world, and she was going to be the queen who did it.
Chapter Nine
The long trek home felt like an eternity for Kayla. Spending time with the brothers and witches was getting on her nerves. She was expected to do the majority of the hunting. Since leaving the City of Ghosts, her wolf familiar had become less than cooperative. Perhaps she sensed the change in her master and was keeping her distance. So be it. The alpha queen should not be expected to hunt and provide for all these insignificant parasites. She only hunted for the pleasure of the kill.
They should be worshiping her. Anything less was an insult. Kayla wasn’t even sure why she had gone on the expedition in the first place. It was the duty of the others to serve her and carry out her commands.
When they arrived in Mist Valley, they passed through the shield. It reminded Kayla of what had happened to the pack just months ago. The witches should have paid for their crimes, but the shifters had been too weak to stop them.
All they could do was rebuild their pitiful little homes and hope that the two witches they had brought to the village wouldn’t eventually turn against them. Kayla harbored deep suspicion for the two girls. Even though they had convinced everyone else they were allies, it could have been a ruse. Willa had cast a shield for a bear clan not far from Hell City. Maybe she was working with the vampires and witches, intent on gaining the shifters’ trust so the other supernaturals could swoop in later and enslave more of their race.
As she rode into the village, Kayla vowed that she would work to unite the packs and clans under her rule. She would bring them together to fight back against the vampires and witches. No shifter would ever be enslaved again with her as their queen.
Her mates Jagger and Quinn came running from the house to greet her. She slipped from her saddle and let herself be embraced by the two enthusiastic males. She had to pretend to be the girl she once was, or she would not be able to succeed in her plan.
Over the course of the journey home, it had been difficult to hide her true nature from Riddick, but she’d gotten the hang of it. She only sent her new mate the impressions she wanted him to see. With the injury to her arm, he hadn’t attempted to make love to her again.
“Did you find it?” Jagger asked, kissing the top of her head.
“We did.”
“Thank the gods,” Quinn said, taking her in his arms in turn. The two of them pawing all over her was irritating and mildly offensive, but she knew she had to submit to their affection. “It’s such a relief to have you home.” Quinn held her close. He looked down at the sling on her arm, his eyes wide with concern. He grabbed at the sling. “Were you hurt?”
“I
was scratched by a ghost,” she said. “A rather nasty one.” In truth, the ghost had set her free.
“I must look at this right away. Come with me.” He took her hand and led her up the trail to his cave. Inside, he lit a fire and asked her to sit.
“Couldn’t we have done this back at the house? There’s business to attend to.”
“I sense something is off.”
Kayla felt a jolt of panic. “The wound was infected. Felix did his best to release the toxins. It has been healing. But slowly.”
“Let me see it.” He set a kettle of water on the fire. He unwrapped her wound and winced when he saw the angry red gash.
“It smells infected.”
“I thought it was looking better.”
He poured a tincture over the wound. She winced at the sting. “This is going to need some work. I’ll have to pray to the mother for help.”
“Very well.”
She knew Wolf Mother would be unimpressed with her new character, but Kayla was unwilling to let it go. She was filled with power and confidence, and she never wanted to go back to the girl she once was. She would kill every Blackfang and burn down the entire village before she allowed that to happen. But she would prefer to not have to go that route unless absolutely necessary. Uniting the shifters would be much more difficult if she did.
Quinn held her arm in his hands, sitting cross-legged beside her at the fire. He began to mutter prayers to his goddess. Damn his goddess. Quinn’s devotion should only be to her and no one else.
Kayla felt power sweep over her. The angry red slashes in her forearm began to close as the tissues knit together. She watched in amazement as the healing prayer worked its magic on her body. Quinn’s abilities had come a long way since he’d left Mist Valley for the first time.
When he was done, her flesh was nearly perfect, save for four long scars on her arm. He opened his eyes and looked down, nodding once. “Now, that’s much better.”
“That was amazing.” Kayla rubbed her healed arm. “Your relationship to the goddess definitely has its benefits.”
