Lovestruck (The Iron Altar Series Book 5)

by Casey Lea

  The only shade had shrunk to hug the cliff and Silk retreated with it to lean on the last strip of cool rock. She idly kicked a heel back against the chalky face and sighed. Blondie had better hurry. She had places to be and people to kill. She stifled a yawn and realized she was sagging. She straightened so fast it made her back crack and she winced. She yawned again, before sagging against the rock face once more. What was wrong with her? She shouldn’t feel this tired already.

  Silk stiffened and rested her palms on the cliff behind to steady herself against shock. Was there something wrong? Fear washed through her. The only thing she could rely on in the arena was herself. Yet suddenly she had aches in places she’d never even known she had. Her knuckles cracked when she spread her fingers further, as if to make a point. No. Silk gritted her teeth and ignored the pain that darted through her jaw. She was fine. She had to be and by the end of the day she’d be even better.

  A low growl rumbled through the rock and Silk forgot every ache. The snarl continued until the cliff vibrated with it. She pushed away fast, rolling to face the nearest intersection. It was the end of the gully she was in, where another chasm cut across, to make a T-junction. There was no sign of movement, but a waft of air too faint to be called a breeze brought a familiar scent round the corner. The acrid animal stink made Silk’s skin tighten, and she crouched lower to hug the scalding sand.

  Silence fell, but the animal stench remained so Silk whistled softly and ducked her head to drape Gutrock’s length of chainmail around her neck. She crossed it over her breasts then wrapped it round her waist before fastening it. Now her hands were free to climb. She kept her eyes on the crossroad, but stretched out one leg so her toes could search for any flakes of stone her heel might have chipped from the cliff earlier. A few projectiles might not help much, but they were something.

  “Hello, Hunter,” Silk called. “You ready to break your jaw on me?”

  A shadow appeared on the cliff face at the end of the gully. It stretched up the wall ahead to form a massive muzzle that opened to show curving teeth. “Not yet,” a feminine voice whispered from the corner. “Let’s get together for a bite later.” The silhouette of a tongue lolled from the shadow’s mouth and a snigger came with it.

  Silk smiled without effort. The pack was a genuine challenge and Silk lived to prove herself. “It’s a date. What do you want right now?”

  “I heard you spoke with the newbie.”

  “Which one? Skinny kid or Blondie?”

  “The hottie, of course. He looked tasty. So dig the dirt. Is he a fighter?”

  The mouth gaped wider against the cliff face and Silk’s skin crinkled in a shiver. “Doubt it. The guy’s a lawyer. He’ll be easy meat.”

  The tongue lolled further and a scratchy laugh stirred the air. “Also heard he’s your husband.”

  “What’s it to you, Hunter?”

  “You going to interfere?”

  Silk paused at that, which was stupid. Of course she wasn’t going to interfere. She knew how the pack worked and they had more than enough teeth to overload her exoskeleton. When they came for her, she planned to lead them straight to Sweeper instead. In the meantime, they’d be doing her a favour by taking out a major threat. She swore softly and dug her nails into her palms. “You’re on Blondie’s trail? Now?”

  “Fresh and tangy. His path is red and he stinks of sweat and blood. You got a problem with our hunt?”

  “No, of course not. I’m not that dumb and he’s not my husband. It was a lie to soften me up. So help yourself.”

  “We will,” Hunter promised and the shadow slid back across the path then vanished.

  13

  Hunter

  The sun bounced around Haze as he sprinted along the curving gully. It reflected from boulders to dazzle him, but he ran on blindly, through intersections and past tunnels. He had his wife’s scent again and although there was no mind touch it was enough to draw him on. Silk had passed this way. What else mattered?

  A rising howl exploded from a side passage and something hurtled at Haze. He dived forward and claws grazed his back, but he rolled away, then flipped to his feet. He had a glimpse of a huge grey beast, before his vision changed and painted it black, crouched on a bed of crumpled silver sheets. Heat ripples rose from the ground and the creature rose with them.

  It was on Haze before he could back away, but that was irrelevant. Beserk mode had no retreat. He ducked and charged forward, driving his shoulder into the pulsing-orange gut of the beast. It yelped, but not for long. He shrugged a wing forward to slash its claw across the red tracer-lines pumping blood up the monster’s throat. Black arced across his vision, while blood sprayed hot over his shoulder. He somersaulted away from his victim’s death spasm, turning to place his back to a wall.

  The hewn rock was like a brand against his shoulders, but he stood there panting and waiting for normal sight to return. Why did it always take so long? Being stuck between Jekyll and Hyde was agony. He needed to slough Hyde again and know he was free of him, at least for a time. He dropped his head, while his fronds drooped over his shoulders and the smell of scorching sand almost covered the smell of blood. Almost.

  Haze shook his head and color began to leach back into a scene of frosted black and white. That was close enough to normal for him to recognise people and he could finally smell Silk again. He took off, following his nose. It would be so much easier to fly, but the trail was fresh and she must be close. Surely. He reached an intersection, which made him pause, before turning onto a new path. It was a much wider gully and he took several strides before slowing. He’d found someone, but it wasn’t Silk.

  The lean fighter from the female bathing-pools stared coolly back at him. She was dressed this time, in sturdy boots and camo-armor leggings and vest. She must have done well in the entrance free-for-all.

  Haze stopped and tried his most engaging grin. What had the guard called her? Ah, yes. “Hi, Hunter.”

  The woman’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile, but then her gaze shifted to his chest and she snarled. That was a strange response to his bare body and he looked down too. He was streaked with blood and instantly tried to scrub it off, but it was sticky and half-dried. All he did was smear it over his palms.

  Hunter stepped back and her voice shook. “Who’s remains did you trip over, lawyer?”

  “No ones, I swear. Just some giant beast. A big grey wolf with teeth like sabers.”

  “Was he dead?”

  Haze shrugged and looked up from his hands. “I guess.”

  Hunter wrapped her arms around her torso as if to hug herself, but her expression was mocking. “Sounds like a dread-wolf. You were lucky someone else got to it first. Dreads are deadly.”

  Haze didn’t bother to correct her. It was refreshing to meet someone who didn’t suspect how much blood he had on his hands. Not even when she could see some of it. Howls carried on the wind and he jumped in a half-turn, but the gully was still empty.

  “Sounds like the dreads have found the scout you tripped over,” Hunter said. “They’ll follow your trail now. You’d better fly. Get out of here or you’re dead.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ve got a bolt-hole with an exit. I’ll be fine, especially if you fly away to draw them off. So move. Now.”

  Haze looked around again. The growing scuff of paws on sand made his shoulders hunch, though the gully was still empty. If the pack caught him in the open, where the dreads had room to manoeuvre, he could easily be dog food.

  “Fly,” Hunter urged, but Haze shook his head.

  “Can’t.”

  “Why not? I saw you fly before. We all did.”

  Haze gave the woman a hard look. She was very keen to save him. “Then you know if I take off, Silk dies.”

  Hunter returned his look without flinching. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. I’m out numbered here and you were going to make the play against Silk anyway. Weren’t you?”

  “No.”


  Hunter’s brow puckered and she tapped her teeth with a nail. “Why set it up then? Don’t you want her dead?” The baying changed note and Haze spun to see a mass of writhing bodies charge round the corner. They were moving too fast and hurtled into the canyon’s far wall, tripping and tangling each other.

  “Here,” Hunter yelled, and fingers strung with steel sinews closed on his wrist.

  Haze glowered, but moved with the gladiator, letting her haul him up the wall to a narrow ledge. Growls rose behind them and something snapped at his toes, so he drew his feet up fast. His blood pumped urgently, filling with the chemicals to make him berserk, but he resisted. He couldn’t hurt Hunter. No more killing innocent bystanders. Not ever.

  A lithe grey body jumped to scrabble at the ledge with its claws, beginning to scramble over, but Hunter jumped forward to boot the animal in the head and it fell back with a yelp. “Damn dreads. You should seriously fly away.”

  “No. Never happen. Give me another option.”

  “We can’t stay here. They’ll get bolder and swamp us, but we can’t split up either,” she said, running the words together in a growl of her own. “They want us to panic and flee. They’ll drive us apart, hunt us down and take chunks off us whenever they can. You need to stay with me.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been chased by them before.”

  “Used to be the reverse.” Her upper lip curled back from her teeth in what seemed to be a grin. “They call me Hunter for a reason. Now follow me.” The fighter jumped from the ledge and sprinted away, taking the dreads by surprise as she stepped across their milling backs.

  Haze blinked, but followed without hesitation. The coarse fur was rough under his feet and offered plenty of purchase, though he staggered when they tried to twist aside and dump him to the ground for a feeding frenzy. Teeth closed on his ankle and pain hissed past his teeth, but he threw himself forward in a desperate somersault. He twisted above snapping jaws wide enough to take off his face in a single gulp and landed on empty sand.

  “Hurry,” Hunter screeched, though ice knew why.

  He didn’t need any encouragement. His feet blurred and his fleck-enhanced body powered past his companion. Her jaw dropped, but then she was on his heels and he slowed enough to let her draw level. His shoulders hunched together and he trembled with the urge to turn back and go wild. He forced his fists to unclench and kept going. Just run. Run away.

  “Second thoughts about flying?” Hunter panted.

  Haze gasped a laugh. “Third and fourth thoughts too. Nothing serious though. Where’s this cave?” It was still quiet behind them, the snarling of the dreads growing more distant and he risked a glance back. The pack was whirling and writhing far behind, still a single entity milling below the ledge. “Why aren’t they chasing?”

  Hunter looked back and slowed, pressing a hand to her side. “They will. Looks like… leadership challenge. Boss let us get away. Someone’s trying to take over. Here.” She gestured up a slight rise, before bending double to catch her breath. “There’s a tunnel. Up back. Too narrow for dreads. Leads to the cliff top.”

  The wall ahead leaned forward, sagging as if it was tired of games and longed to collapse into a dead end. It was cracked and pitted with dark streaks, the largest of which was close to its base. “Hurry,” Hunter urged and Haze paused, though he didn’t know why. Anyone would sound as shrill as she did with a pack of dreads on their tail. He sprinted to the crack ahead, which was wider than he expected, with plenty of room to enter despite a low lintel. He ducked his head and the dark throat of the cave swallowed him.

  There was no sound of Hunter scrambling after Haze, but it was only when he moved further inside that he realized his mistake. There was no exit ahead. The cavern was dark and cold. He’d just entered a trap, with a pack on his tail and no chance to fly away now, even if he wanted to. He was such a fool.

  He pivoted slowly to see Hunter’s silhouette, still in the entrance. Her head was in profile and her lips pursed to give a piercing whistle. She didn’t follow him in and the pack of dreads arrived, rubbing past her shoulders and licking her face. She pushed aside the fawning creatures to peer into the cave. “Do you like my pets?”

  “Better at a distance,” Haze said. It was too bad really. The dread-wolves were beautiful, but he was going to have to take those puppies to obedience school. He shook his head in warning. “You don’t want to do this, Hunter. Your beasts are too big. It makes them unwieldy in close quarters and open to attack.”

  “By you? What are you going to do? Cross-examine them? The weak die, lawyer.”

  “I’m not weak.”

  Haze relaxed and the dam in the back of his head exploded. The rage surged forward like another tsunami and he groaned when it flooded his brain. Thought stopped, swamped by instinct as teeth flashed out of the brightness, gleaming like scimitars. He sprinted to meet them, then dropped to his knees to skid under the attack. His wing claws sliced up and out, sweeping from side-to-side, to slash bright patterns apart until the air grew thick with whimpers and the teeth stopped coming.

  Haze let himself settle face first on the ground. The rage ebbed and there was only a distant stab of pain. That was a relief, but before he could check his injuries the cave was filled again, by a wail that lifted the hair on the nape of his neck. It was a cry as wild as any ever thrown at the moon. He looked up to see Hunter staggering between corpses. She dropped to her knees to hug a grizzled dread, but her fingers caught in its matted fur. She pulled them free to study her red palms before staring wide-eyed at Haze.

  “You,” she spat. “How could you? Who the hell are you? How did you do this?” She looked lost, but then her eyes focused with sudden intensity. “And why won’t you fly?”

  Haze strode forward, making Hunter dart back. “Because you don’t want to kill Silk. She is your wife. Your pack. She matters to you.”

  She lunged for the mouth of the cave and sprinted into the canyon beyond. Chasing Silk.

  Haze followed briskly, but stopped beside the largest dread body and dropped to plant a knee on its skull. He pulled hard at its stiff jaw and jerked a canine free. He rose and charged from the cave, drawing his arm back as he went.

  Hunter was nearly at the corner, a shadow flitting through the remaining strip of shade. Haze could follow her easily though. She stood out starkly against a world turned silver and her body pulsed dull red with the need for revenge. Haze couldn’t let her go. His arm snapped forward. The dread’s tooth was a splinter of black that buried itself in the base of her skull. Hunter dropped and Haze briefly closed his eyes. Whatever it takes, he reminded himself and moved on. When he reached her corpse he stepped over it without looking down.

  14

  Grounded

  By the time Haze reached the next corner he was starting to stagger, and almost fell to a knee. The sun was beating on his head while his skin began to sting. Something wet was running down his back. He looked awkwardly over his shoulder and saw strips of red that ran from shoulder to waist. It seemed he’d been clawed after all. Lucky it wasn’t worse - at least he was still on his feet. He leaned back against the cliff and the rock caught at his scratches, but he was alive and he could still fight.

  Haze closed his eyes… until a small fist smashed into his face like a hammer-claw’s beak. The blow threw him sideways to hit the ground and he tried to tuck into a ball, but his attacker was too fast. An iron knee sank into his stomach and breathing stopped. Hail. He’d thought he had rock-hard abs, but they were nothing compared to the real thing.

  A minute passed and he was dizzy before he finally managed a gulping breath. The air was sweet, literally, with a fragrance that kept his head spinning. “Hey, honey,” he croaked and Silk hissed over him. She drew back at once, but Haze missed her touch. He craved contact with her, any contact.

  “Move and my knee finds your balls,” she told him and he winced. Perhaps not any contact.

  Haze opened his eyes, which was a mistake. She
looked seriously pissed and stunningly lovely. A difficult combination. “What can I do for you, Silk? Anything you want, just say it.”

  Her glare morphed into a sweet smile. “Your wings.”

  Haze’s prickle of apprehension became a thorn bush. “What?”

  “You heard me, fly boy. Congratulations by the way. Not many people can set me up, but I had no idea you’d trick the Harvesters. I didn’t know how dangerous you were either. Taking out the pack was shockingly good and you’ve got me just as trapped. The second you fly, I die. You can kill me with a flick of your wings, so I want them neutered.”

  “Alright.” Sweat beaded Haze’s forehead to slide down his face like tears, but he ignored it. He pushed away from the cliff and Silk circled him warily. She had something bundled in one hand, but he ignored it. This was going to hurt.

  He opened a wing and her eyes narrowed as she dropped into a crouch, but he didn’t strike at her. His target was behind him. His claw swept across to slash at his other wing. The cut was precise and sliced through the main tendon. Pain whipped up the wing to lash that side of his body. The cut wing flopped to drag on the ground behind him and Haze’s knees hit the sand too, but he scarcely noticed. He was truly grounded now.

  “You idiot,” Silk screamed and he looked up, but couldn’t seem to focus, as if his eyes were blurred by tears, which seemed doubtful and a waste of moisture. He blinked faster and realized his wife looked horrified. “What have you done?”

  “What you wanted,” Haze panted, trying to read her expression, but her hands were in front of her mouth and he gave up, letting his head fall. His fronds whipped around his throat, overloaded by shock. Was some of that distress from Silk?