The Wilds (Reign and Ruin 1)

by Jules Hedger

  "Timothy was stronger than ten men, you know that!" Lucan gripped his knees and I watched in cruel satisfaction as a tendon in his neck stiffened. "I have protected you as best I know how."

  "So what now?" I yelled. "What now? We had three days, or what looks like two now," I corrected, waving my hands around at the morning sunshine. "We keep skipping time! If we don't win I will burn. And I won't burn for a world as shit as this."

  "If you think it's so shit, maybe you should burn," Lucan bellowed, standing up and thrusting his face close to mine. I could see every hair on his chin and the scattered specks of indigo in his eyes.

  "I don't see why anyone would kill themselves over a world filled with so much pain," I retorted. Lucan released a frustrated snort and turned away. The muscles in his jaw worked and moved. It looked like a hundred different comebacks were flying through his mind. But when he turned back a minute later, his face had softened. He didn't say anything smart or biting. He simply took a moment to study my set expression and the hard line of my lips.

  My anger simmered just below the surface, not growing but retaining its heat for the moment when he did decide to keep up the battle. But I felt like crying and I certainly didn't feel like fighting anymore. I don't know why I had even started.

  Lucan tentatively raised a hand to my chest and stroked the gold circle hanging just above the crevice of my breasts. He drew in a measured breath as he looked searchingly into my eyes, seeking something deeper than just my anger and my resentment of everything.

  A wave of lightness swept over my brain, momentarily blowing away the searing glow of anger that had been coursing though my veins. The edges of my limbs felt fuzzy and grew numb but from somewhere I felt his other hand gently reach up to cup my cheek. His thumb wiped a tear snaking down into the corner of my mouth and the touch of his skin on my lips drew my breath out with a sigh. My lips parted slightly, like a flower opening to the advances of the daybreak.

  "You think this is a world of pain," he whispered, his gaze darting from my eyes to my nose and lingering on my mouth. "But it's just another world. A world like any other. But it's yours. By birth and by right. And the minute you get that into your pretty, stubborn head you'll realize it's worth saving. I know you will."

  The sounds of our breathing filled the space between us. Lucan's hands stroked along my arms, up and down, up and down; pushing away the tension and pressure of my fury. The rough tips of his fingers sent shivers down my spine.

  The dreamcatcher pulsed and my eyelids fluttered closed, like the shutter of a camera. Lucan was playing dangerously close to my off switch, and I leaned forward to let his touch continue up my arm and along my collar bone. His breath hitched. My stomach clenched. Every inch of my skin felt like it would split open in tightly wound ecstasy when the soft whisper of lips gently kissed my neck.

  "You are worth saving, Maggie."

  His whisper rippled lightly over my ear. I could hardly think what he meant. All I wanted to concentrate on was his hands drifting down to tangle with the edge of my top and the skin around my hips. The fever in my belly licked my insides as his mouth made its way slowly along my bare shoulders.

  His fingers brushed lightly at the tender area under my breasts, torching the ache that was centered below my stomach and danced deliciously up and down my chest like the sea.

  Holy shit, this had never . . . never happened to me before. Why I was letting it happen now was beyond me. But it felt like a gift and I couldn't make myself stop him, if I deserved it or not.

  I groaned softly and felt his purr of approval resonate through my groin. He shifted his body so that the tight curve of his erection was pushed against my stomach. It was not enough. I wanted to taste him, smash this twisted seduction and let the small fragments embed themselves deep in my hot skin.

  When the heat of his sigh washed over my face and one deft finger worked its way along the top of jeans, a throaty gasp pushed its way from my throat and my eyes snapped open. I was awake. And I swear to all juries that I lost everything. Every ounce of control I was holding onto, every thought of free will or sensible, rational thought escaped my mind and fell through my scrambling hands to the floor. There was nothing I wanted more than to let go of my irrational anger and pound hard onto something even more irrational.

  I lunged like a beast at Lucan, my lips finding his and moving against them with a fierce lack of control. To his supreme credit, Lucan didn't blink an eye at the sudden change of energy, but lifted me from the waist and twirled me around to slam my back against the tree. It momentarily knocked the breath out of my lungs. Lucan released a throaty chuckle and ran his thumbs quickly over my nipples. I could feel the hunt in his touch. My back arched and I needed to taste him again. I had poked the dog and Jesus, the dog had bite . . .

  We kissed. Oh, we kissed. It was painful and surprising and felt like a battle: two stubborn warriors vying desperately for dominance over the other, tongues sparring, lips dancing and fingers roaming over every bit of exposed skin that soon each inch of me screamed with the sting of sex. Lucan grabbed my head with both hands to twist his fingers deep into my hair. They were strong and gripped like a vice. It hurt, but I could not pull away because it felt like an anchor more than anything.

  I was a dancing flame. I could taste blood in my mouth. His or mine, I didn't care, but it felt so good to be equal with someone who possessed so much passion. Our hips rubbed together deliciously and slowly, one hand of Lucan's straying from my head to settle at the curve of my lower back. He guided me up and down, our movements growing more frantic, and his other hand working its way under my shirt.

  It would have gone further. I hold no qualms in saying that I was close to begging, imploring him for something that felt so good, so filling and bright. I had been falling and knocking on the sides as the hole got deeper and deeper. And suddenly this man caught me. It was rough and I was frightened. But at least I was still, for once.

  I nearly missed it, but at the edge of my hearing there sounded a faraway gun shot. Lucan's lips froze and he pulled away slowly. We stood absurdly still against the tree, panting like teenagers. We must have looked ridiculous. Lucan quickly untangled himself from our embrace and threw me a dark look. His eyes were hooded and blurred over with desire.

  "This . . . I'm so sorry," he murmured. A small whimper escaped my throat as his hands left the sensitive skin beneath my shirt. His bulge pressed against his trousers, but he was already walking away, picking up the backpack and looking cautiously through the trees.

  Well, great, I thought, taking a moment to smooth back my hair and find steady ground again on shaky feet. My mind was still reeling, my body was screaming and my skin felt so conscious I could explode with one touch of his tongue. I was just about to ready to jump him from behind but he wanted to cut it short to go investigate a gun shot. Doesn't the possibility of some action usually trump the near certainty of death?

  But then we heard it again, louder and closer this time. Whatever or whoever made the noise was coming closer and the shock of gunfire finally made its way into my brain. The cold ring of my recollection rushed back to my mind, the silent backdrop after the Ringmaster's fall to the floor and how hot the gun was in my hand. I was suddenly shivering.

  A hand clapped me hard on the shoulder and I jumped. Lucan put a finger to his lips.

  "Pull yourself together, Maggie. We need to keep moving." He patted my arm and nodded towards our right where I suppose he had calculated the sounds were coming from.

  Leading the way, he started to step quietly through the trees, taking care to tread carefully over twisted roots and trying not to get tangled in the creepers that hung like giant spider webs from the forest's canopy. Every so often we would hear another gunshot; Lucan would freeze, raise his hand like a commando, and then wave us onwards.

  There was suddenly a gigantic thump. I jumped back in surprise as the tree in front of us shook and upset away a flock of white birds that chirped at the annoying
disturbance. A person roared in anger so frighteningly close that I instinctively ducked down to my knees in case the attacker decided to fly out of the brush in my direction.

  I can safely say, if it wasn't already entirely obvious, that I thought about turning around and running. Even Lucan took a step back. Whose crazy idea was it again to go searching for the source of the shooting? Oh, yeah. My incredibly ripped but insanely stupid protector. Bloodshed? I like the sound of that! Experience? Gun? Protective shield or at least a sharp, pointy stick? No? Aw, heck, let's go! Watching Lucan lower himself carefully to the ground, I crawled awkwardly through the dirt to join him at the edge of the tree line until I could see through the brush into the clearing.

  A man was grappling with a woman. He grasped her neck with his bare hands and was struggling hard to keep her fingers from clawing out his eyes. Every so often one of them would kick a discarded firearm, presumably knocked from one of their hands, and it would get pushed further and further away from the fray. The man was dressed in a sleek, black ensemble while the woman could have blended in quite well with the trees. Even her face was streaked with green. But right now all I could see was the white gleam of her teeth as she snarled and fought to reach the man's face with her nails.

  It seemed to be another rite of passage for me – I was having loads of those lately – but this is one they always tell you about. You know the one where you watch a man strangle a woman to death? They teach you that in personal development? Yeah, me neither, fuck that.

  "We need to do something!" I started to hiss at Lucan, but I stopped when I saw the smile that was stretched across his face. He glanced at me momentarily, reluctant to tear his eyes away from the fight, and chuckled.

  "Nah, don't worry. Cassandra knows what she's doing."

  "Cassan – what?" I sputtered. "You know her?!"

  At that I heard an almighty crack and whipped my head back around. The woman, Cassandra, was pushing the man away from her as he slumped to the ground like a wet sandbag. His head lolled grotesquely from a broken neck. For a few seconds, everyone was still, until the noises of the wild crept back into our awareness.

  Cassandra wiped her forehead and walked over to the discarded gun. As she bent over to pick it up, she looked straight at us. I froze in terror, but she dropped the eye contact a split second later, as if she knew we had been there the whole time. She straightened up to empty the ammunition and shook her head amusingly.

  "Lucan, you can come out now, you big oaf."

  Lucan rose slowly up and I followed, stepping out into the clearing behind him. Cassandra was pushing the gun back into her holster and regarding Lucan like an annoying sibling she'd just caught tagging along.

  "Cassandra," Lucan said lazily. Her eyebrow floated up in what looked like pleasure and she licked a pair of full, amber colored lips.

  "That's my name. Welcome back." Lucan looked pointedly at the man on the ground. Cassandra gave him a little kick with the toe of her boot and shrugged. "He got too close to my outpost. Cirrus's scout or the Council's, he was looking for you, no doubt." She leaned sideways slightly to regard me standing behind him. "And who is this green young thing?"

  "Cassandra, this is Maggie," Lucan replied. "Maggie."

  "I'm not deaf, Lucan. I heard you the first time." She looked me up and down and I stared solidly back. My chin rose up defiantly as I took in her smooth, brown hair twisted practically into an elegant shape hanging low on her neck. The streaks of green on her face matched her tight, short-sleeved shirt, forest colored trousers, and handkerchief tied high on her upper arm. I also couldn't help but notice that it matched her eyes, which were striking and looking at me as if I were a little girl. How did Lucan know this woman? And why did I feel suddenly so stupidly jealous?

  The edges of her mouth twitched up, as if she could sense my train of thought. "Looks hardly out of school," she said. She glanced sideways again at Lucan. "Break her yet?"

  "That is the Painter's niece," Lucan hissed, taking a protective step forwards. Cassandra rolled her eyes again and tightened the handkerchief on her arm.

  "I know, Lucan. We're all here for the same reason," she snapped.

  "And why is that?" I spoke up.

  Cassandra looked at Lucan in surprise and laughed loudly. She walked over to me, taking a pointed step over the dead man's body, and placed her hand on my chest. Her palm fitted perfectly over the gold circle of the dreamcatcher and her fierce eyes softened as we both felt it flare up in a throb.

  "You, my darling. The Riders have come for you."

  ***

  The phone for the waiting room rang in Cirrus's office.

  He sat up from where he had been watching the seconds tick past slowly on the grandfather clock in the corner. It could only be one of two things. The treasured first possibility was that the Moth had arrived with Maggie. She could be waiting for him right now in his front hallway. Just the thought of seeing her again made Cirrus feel like dancing, sending all kinds of delicious feelings shooting up his legs. His face lit up in anticipation and he drew his hand out to pick up the receiver. But the second dreaded thought made him stop. It could be something else. It could be that the Moth had come back empty-handed. Or perhaps it had lost control, fetched back his salvation broken and lifeless in its arms. The excitement he had felt just moments before was washed over in a wave of cold dread.

  "Yes?" Funny how such a small word was so difficult to say without a quiver or a quake. He heard a bit of static on the other end of the line, but otherwise the voice coming through the receiver was quite clear.

  "Cirrus, this is Cindy. The Moth has returned."

  "Did it bring back Maggie?" Cirrus asked swiftly, bracing himself against his desk. She was on the other side of that door, he knew it. There was a pause on the phone.

  "It brought back . . . something." Cindy tentatively said. Cirrus froze and looked towards the door. Something? What kind of something? The fire crackled softly and the static buzzed on the other end.

  "Cirrus? Are you there?" Cindy asked meekly. Cirrus cursed and pushed his fingertips under his spectacles and into his eyes.

  "Yes, Cindy. I am," Cirrus replied through gritted teeth. "I'm not angry with you."

  "No, sir. Thank you, sir," she tittered. "It's just that . . . what do I do with him?"

  "Him?!" Cirrus cried. His head snapped up. Lucan!

  He slammed the phone back down and strode across the room to the heavy double doors of his office. He gripped the silver handles and heaved them open. They continued to fly backwards where they bounced against the office walls and shook a small dusting of plaster from the ceiling coving.

  The Moth has failed, he simmered angrily as he marched down the hall. And all I've got to show for it is my pathetic excuse for a brother. The thought of Lucan with Maggie, of his arms snaking around her slight frame, or whatever else he might have forced upon her, made his head reel. He squeezed his eyes shut to expel the image and bore down the rest of the hall like a bull. The shock at the end brought him up short when he saw not Lucan, not Maggie, but Leof lounging on a chair. Cindy sat behind the desk looking positively terrified.

  She stood up with a squeak. He stopped her short with a firm finger and pointed to the door. Her bun quivered like a scared pocket dog as she quickly started to gather her things up. Leof and Cirrus stared at one another silently as Cindy moved about them, her hands fluttering butterflies, until she quietly and nervously closed the front door behind her with a soft click.

  Leof stretched luxuriously, reaching his long limbs up to the ceiling and the rotating fan fixture. The pointed toes of his cowboy boots scraped along the rug, leaving a dusty trail of sand.

  "Not the welcome I was expecting, but as least you don't look too displeased to see me." He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and appraised the still figure of Cirrus. "Admit it, I'm second best."

  "Where is Maggie?" Cirrus asked in a dangerous voice. Leof looked Cirrus up and down, from the gleaming black
of his leather brogues to the crisp lines of his gray suit, and smirked.

  "Wanted to look pretty for your honey?"

  "Where . . . is Maggie?" Cirrus repeated. His eyes flashed under his spectacles, shooting daggers at Leof.

  "You have no one to blame but yourself, Cirrus." Leof tsked. "It came for her. It was this close to plucking her up and flying her like an angel on a rainbow to your warm and completely unconditional embrace." Leof laughed loudly and slapped his thighs. Cirrus waited, his fingers flexing into fists, until Leof finished his hilarity. The man's face settled into an expression of mock pity.

  "But unluckily for you, it caught someone else instead. And now you're stuck with me." He pulled out a piece of licorice from his pocket and slurped the end with relish. "I don't have the symbol. Sorry about that. But don't worry, I'm not bad to look at."

  "So where is Maggie now, then?" Cirrus asked, fighting back the disgust he felt watching Leof tear pieces of the black candy with his browned, cigarette stained teeth. Leof took a moment before answering.

  "It was a real shame. We all tried to stop it."

  "What do you mean?"

  Leof looked out the window and hid a smile. This was going to be his best kill yet. Chaos, despair and definitely ending in fire.

  He swiped his face clean and sighed. Cirrus felt a sick nausea wrap around his gut and flex. The face that turned back to Cirrus was resigned.

  "There was an accident with your Moth." Leof twisted the piece of licorice into a knot and pulled until it broke away into two pieces. Cirrus felt the ground fall away from his feet. "Something terrible has happened to Maggie."

  Chapter 21

  Try and think of the most awkward moment of your life. Picturing it in your head? Now take that moment, remove your pants, walk in on your parents having sex and then double the awkwardness of that moment. And if you've walked in your parents having sex whilst wearing no trousers, fuck off and go throw yourself a party.