Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three)

by Hales, Wendy S.

  “Get the fuck out,” he barked at Frank

  Frank folded his arms defiantly. “She’s pregnant and anemic. She needs medical care.”

  Just fucking great. Frank suddenly wanted to pretend he gave a shit about “the breeder”? And how dare the fucker take a stand against Oney. Frank was become way too bold. Oney stood and slipped past where Cherry huddled. Gripping Frank by the neck, Oney slid him up the wall until his feet dangled and his eyes threatened to pop out of his head.

  “I said get the fuck out. She’ll meet with the healer when she’s goddamned good and ready. Feel me, shit-head?” Oney hissed into Franks face. Osiris had chosen him to be “One,” not because he was first born. It was because he had abilities Frank couldn’t possibly fathom. No one did. Osiris had only had a small clue. Part of that ability was what kept Osiris from learning the full truth.

  Oney tossed Frank into the hallway like a discarded feather and slammed the door closed. Cherry, wide-eyed, peeked over the top of his desk. “When was the last time you had blood?”

  Anemic and pregnant made the term “high-risk” seem like no big deal. Most anemic females bled to death either in miscarriage or during delivery. According to the memories rushing into his mind, Osiris had banned the rare anemic Hulven females from breeding centuries ago, electing to use them as support staff, daycare providers, or—Oney swallowed the lump that rose in his throat—target practice for the soldiers in training. Cherry should have never been put into the breeding program. Osiris really had gotten desperate since the SOSC had begun tearing the breeding labs apart one by one.

  The hard blink of her thick brown eyelashes and the slight paling of her skin, making her freckles stand out on her nose, was the only response she gave him. Oney pulled out his dagger, sliced across his wrist, and held the wound over a brandy goblet while Cherry visually tracked his every move.

  With her hand braced on the pile of papers covering his desk, she stood. Her pink tongue moistened those full lips Oney had been dreaming of every night, the tips of her dentes visible. She was panting.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you needed to feed, Chéri?” Oney felt like a piece of shit.

  Her stare was glued to the goblet filling with his blood as her dentes elongated fully. Oney sealed his wrist and handed her the glass, noting the tremors in her hands as she reached for it. Fuck … she was starving.

  Had anyone even fed her food? Given her clothes? Anything? The realization of just how big a piece of shit he was rolled through him. He’d promised no one would harm her, yet he’d harmed her with his neglect. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her eyes fluttered closed when she tipped the glass to her lips and drank. Oney’s chest clenched at the innocent look of ecstasy on her face.

  Shit … she needed a healer and he sure as shit wasn’t going to trust her care to any of the butchers under Osiris’s employ. He withdrew the satellite phone he’d turned off when all this shit started and dialed.

  “Yo, punk, where the hell have you been?” Eric answered on the second ring.

  Oney took a deep breath. He hated to use his friendship, and the idea of putting Eric in danger made him ill, but he didn’t know what else to do. “That ‘snowball in Arizona’ offer you made … is it still on the table?”

  Eric tone turned serious. “Of course, man. What’s up?”

  Cherry was wiping the film of blood out of the empty glass with her finger to get every last drop. “You think you could hook me up with your sister’s phone number?”

  The line was silent for several seconds. “You finally going to admit to me you’re Volaticus, Oney? ’Bout damn time.”

  “You knew?” Hell, Oney thought he’d played the human card pretty well.

  “Hell yeah I knew. I could tell you were holding back when we sparred, and you were way too protective of your ears, dude.” Eric chuckled and gave him Jess Einar’s phone number without pushing for detail. Oney thanked the Fates he had one friend in the world. “When shit calms down for you, you owe me a beer, true?”

  Oney grinned. “When shit calms, Eric, I’ll buy your ass a brewery.”

  He hung up as Cherry set the licked-clean glass carefully back on the bar. “Thank you, Anthony.” Her softly voiced gratitude reaffirmed his determination to do right by her. Eric trusted his sister. Oney had to trust someone. Would this Jess keep his Chéri safe? What if one of Osiris’s enemies got a hold of her? Or worse, one of Osiris’s allies inside the SOSC?

  “Are you all right, Anthony?” Anthony. Fates, he wished that was who he really was. She’d just watched him toss a male out of the room effortlessly, yet she didn’t seem to fear him. How was that possible? He gripped the back of her head and kissed her ever so tenderly. A single soft touch of his lips to hers. One small taste of her to remember her by. He expected her to pull back, slap his face, react like a rape victim. Instead she sighed against his lips and leaned into his chest.

  Mine. Fates, what was he going to do. Giving her up would destroy him. An unfamiliar primal instinct roared to life within him. Mine.

  The door burst open. Oney tore from Cherry’s lips as the sting of a dart hit his thigh. Frank’s sneer at the other end of the gun pointing at him filled him with fury. Even as the drug ebbed into his system, Oney pulled his dagger and tossed it, using the strength and speed he usually kept hidden. It flew end over end, sinking to its hilt in the center of Frank’s forehead. The ground rushed up at him. He could feel Cherry trying to ease his fall.

  “Port! Now … get out of here.” He was fading fast. What he thought was a simple tranq burned in his bloodstream. Mercury cyanide. He reached for his phone lying just out of reach. Cherry picked it up and placed it in his palm. He punched the last number called button. The horrified look in her big eyes blurred. Please baby, he tried to plead, but his voice no longer worked. Darkness washed over him.

  ****

  Port? Where? Where would she go? She had promised Anthony she wouldn’t escape. She couldn’t leave him like this. Cherry felt helpless. Anthony was dying … he couldn’t die. She had to do something.

  “Yo’” A male voice came out of the device Oney had been reaching for. “Oney?” Cherry lifted it to her ear. “You butt-dialing, my man?” It was like a handheld version of the intercom system at the compound, Cherry realized.

  “Hello.” She had never spoke back to the intercom before. It just told them where to go and when.

  “Who is this?” The male’s voice changed to suspicion.

  “Um, I’m Cherry. Please. Anthony—” Her voice gave out as her heart broke in her chest. He was barely breathing.

  “Fuck. Cherry, where are you?”

  She looked around the room. “I heard someone say Siberia, but I don’t know for sure.”

  The voice on the line started talking in muted rapid words Cherry couldn’t fully hear. Then it returned loud and clear. “Thank God, the GPS on the phone is active. Help is on the way, Cherry. My name is Eric, and I’m Oney’s, err, Anthony’s friend. Stay on the line with me and tell me exactly what the hell is going on.” He said “God” not “Fates”? Was Eric human?

  She could hear Anthony’s heart sputter. Please Fates, don’t die. Since the moment Cherry laid eyes on Anthony she’d felt a connection. His fearsome presence gave her a feel of safety. He was awe-inspiring and as beautiful as a sunrise. Cherry felt a quiver in her belly just thinking of him.

  Cherry lifted Anthony’s head to her lap and tipped his chin up, opening his throat. She bit into her wrist and gently placed the wound to his lips. Being anemic, she knew it might kill her, but a life without Anthony wouldn’t be worth living anyway.

  She tried to explain to Eric what had happened. His confusion was obvious since he kept asking, “what’s this,” “what’s that” the entire time. It might have only been a few minutes, but it felt like forever before she finally heard footsteps racing toward them. Please be the good guys, she prayed.

  A ginourmous male burst into the room. Blood dripped from a sword
held high above his head. Cherry had never seen anyone who could fill a whole doorway before. She dropped the phone and cradled Anthony’s head protectively, a growl rumbling through her chest. That male would have to go through her.

  A tiny female pushed past the bulking male fearlessly. “You’re scaring her, Sargon.” Long blonde hair hung in a ponytail down the girl’s back. She was short with glowing, emerald-colored eyes. “I’m Jess. Eric sent me. Will you let us help your mate?”

  A female warrior? Cherry had never heard of such a thing. Mate? What’s a mate? People began crowding behind the tiny female. Even the giant didn’t challenge Jess. Cherry looked into Anthony’s face. His lips were turning blue and his skin had an odd reddish tinge to it.

  She nodded. “Save him, please.” Blood loss had slurred her speech, but Jess understood her.

  A male who looked al lot like Anthony slid in with an IV of blood already in his hand. He didn’t tell Cherry to back away, just gave her a warm, friendly smile. “My name is Jacob. I’m a medic but a healer is on the way. Okay if I start a blood transfusion on your male?” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe get you some blood too?”

  All she cared about was Anthony … her male; she needed to be strong for him. Stifling her fears she extended her arm toward Jacob the medic. Lightening fast Jacob had both she and Anthony hooked to IV’s, a second bag hung from the artery in Anthony’s neck draining blood out as fast as it was going in. Cherry could see his color improving. “I won’t ever leave you, I promise.” She whispered in his ear.

  Excerpts: One Whisper

  The Enlightened Species Book Four

  Fuck me. Oney groaned. A sound of whirling and beeps filtered into his muddled brain. Dimmed lights pierced through his closed eyelids with the force of a high beam spotlight. Where the hell am I? Part of the answer came with the scent of antiseptic and ammonia. A hospe?

  The scent was diluted with another. Cherry. Not just her scent … the female herself. He forced his heavy lids open as his body registered the feel of her curled against his side, her head rested on his shoulder. He tried to wrap his arms around her only to feel cuffs anchoring his wrists to the bedrails.

  They thought him a prisoner? Oney muffled his snort. Stupid dip-shits. This had to be a SOSC facility. How had he gotten here?

  His eyes tracked over Cherry’s delicate frame looking for injuries. Her hand rested against the center of his chest as if she were monitoring his heartbeat. Someone had given her clothes. She wore a pastel purple halter and a cream-colored loose bohemian style full-length skirt. He’d never seen her hair unbraided. Now the brown silken strands fanned out loose across his arm. Her eyes closed in sleep, when open, were a magnificent apple green that faded to pear green around her pupil and sat large above high cheekbone peppered with freckles that spanned across the bridge of her slightly upturned nose. Below that tiny nose were the fullest, sweetest lips he’d ever tasted. Cherry had saved his life somehow.

  Oney was the heir to his father Osiris’s evil empire. Frank, Osiris’s former lover and right hand man had taken issue with that. The last thing Oney remembered was the sneer on Franks face when the fuck-wad shot Oney with a dart full of Mercury Cyanide followed by the dagger Oney had flung that buried into the guy’s skull in response. Fates, he should be dead right now not full of tubes and hooked to a shit-load of wires.

  Like an angel, Cherry’s eyes fluttered open and met his. She gasped and lifted to her elbow. The hand at his chest relocated to cup his cheek. “Anthony, you’re awake.” The whispery quality of her voice never failed to send a rush of blood to his nether-region.

  “You’re beautiful, Chéri.” He responded with a rough voice. The slight blush of her cheeks made the statement all the more true. Though her given name of Cherry fit her, so did his term of endearment. Since she was illiterate he doubted she knew it was the French word for “love”. How long had he been unconscious?

  The door opened and a tall Aquatie male with blue hair and an expression full of menace loomed in the doorway.

  “’Bout fucking time.” The male stormed into the room and leaned over the bed until his nose was an inch from Oney’s. Way too close to Cherry.

  “Greyton,” Cherry spoke with familiarity to the handsome sea sucker. “What are you doing?”

  “This bastard must know where Dean is?” The harsh tone the male used in responding to Cherry didn’t sit well with Oney any more that the threat of violence in the guy’s eyes while he was in close proximity to her. Hell, the close proximity was enough to send a burst of adrenalin through Oney’s atrophied muscles.

  Even weakened, the platinum/lead cuffs were no match for him. Oney yanked his wrist and the metal link between the cuffs snapped free. He gripped the Aquatie by his throat. “Get the fuck away from her.” He hissed through his erupted dentes into the guy’s startled face.

  “Anthony, Greyton is a good guy. He was among the warriors who helped save you.” Cherry used her cupped hand on his cheek to turn his face until he met her gaze. Oney’s strength was no match for her touch. The female owned his ass. When the hell did that happen? “Be nice.”

  Oney released his grip and Greyton backed off. At least the guy wasn’t stupid enough to push his luck. Careful to keep the cuff on his wrist from touching her cheek, he buried his hand into Cherry’s hair keeping an eye on the Aquatie in his peripheral vision and let himself drown in her gaze.

  “Cheri everyone is an enemy until proven otherwise. No one will threaten you.” He kept his voice low and soothing, well aware the hearing of the Aquatie picked up every word.

  Immortal Becoming

  The Enlightened Species Book One

  Jess jogged out to the parking lot, not surprised to see him leaning against her Jeep. He was taller than she had realized at about six foot three, with long, lean, well-defined muscles beneath his jeans and T-shirt. In the waning sunlight, his hair appeared darker, with auburn highlights. What captured her attention was the deep forest-green of his eyes, the color darkened the closer she came. A kaleidoscope of brown specks clustered in the center.

  She studied him. He gave her a cocky grin. She was pretty sure he was reading every thought in her head, and yes, she thought he was even sexier up close, the bastard. It didn’t change the fact that he knew her name, what she drove, probably her weight and favorite color, all without her telling him, and she still didn’t even know his name.

  “You can stop shielding me or whatever you are doing now,” she grumbled, knowing she should feel grateful for his help. Instead she felt uncomfortable with him having so much knowledge about her. She hated that he was aware of her weakness when it came to psychic overload.

  “I haven’t been shielding you for awhile now.” He shrugged, following her around to the driver’s side of her car, holding out his hand for her keys. She blinked up at him.

  “You are not driving my Jeep! Where do you think you are going with me anyway?” She tossed her bag into the back seat “What do you mean you aren’t shielding me? I would be in agony if you weren’t.” Turning to face him, she shot one question after another at him. A dam of curiosity burst through her. Pointing her finger at his chest, she interrogated him. “What did you do to make it better? Can you teach me how? Why did you call Jerika your protégé?” Hands on her hips, she had backed him several steps away from the door of the Jeep. “What is a protégé? Why are you watching her? How come the officers let you be there at all?” She hoped that last bit didn’t sound quite so jealous and petty to him as it did to her. Jerika was none of her business.

  “Whoa, damn female. The deal was I shield your psyche, and you answer a few questions. What the hell?” Holding up both hands defensively, he was laughing at her again, a deep, sexy sound. Her first reaction was to purr and rub up against him like a cat. She felt the blush rising up her neck to redden her face.

  “Sorry. Sorry, I know … I just, wow. Today was such a great day. I don’t hurt, at all. I can’t remember not being in some sort of psychic pain.
At least … not since my mom. I guess I’m just excited.” She chewed her bottom lip, thinking. Was excited too forward a term? ”Could you at least tell me your name?”

  “If I can drive?” He was grinning at her again.

  She was so sick of being his private little joke, his arrogant attitude instantly spiraled her to pissed-off. Grateful to feel something empowering rather than the awkwardness he seemed to bring out of her, she pounced. “You seriously expect me to hand over my keys and get into the car with you? Without even knowing your name? Really?”

  His grin only widened. “You, Beauty, can definitely take care of yourself. Don’t even pretend to be afraid of me. I’ve watched you kick ass all day.” There was admiration underlying the amusement in his gaze.

  “Not being afraid of you does not mean being stupid. If you don’t want to tell me your name, then we can stand right here … safely and in front of a police academy. While you ask me whatever it is you seem to think you want to know.” Still irritated at him, she retraced the few steps back to the side of the Jeep. “Of course, if you really aren’t shielding me, then maybe the deal is off anyway.” Spinning her keys to make loud snapping sounds into her palm, she pretended to consider whether she should leave.

  “I really was beginning to like being called Bleacher Boy.” He sighed. “My name is Shanley Einar. You and I both know that we are not going to be able to speak freely here.” He held his hand out for her keys again. “You already knew my name the same way I knew yours. Call me Shane.”

  When he said his name, she realized she already knew it. She had known it from the minute he spoke to her. The keys slipped from her hand into his, and she pivoted to walk back around the Jeep, taking a seat on the passenger side. Shane stood at the open driver’s door, holding her hard-won keys. He stared at her a few moments, then climbed into the driver’s seat, adjusting it to fit his long legs.

  “Where to?” he asked, starting the motor.