He yells as I draw near, his voice transformed into something inhuman by his shift. “Help me get the redhead out!” He gestures toward where she has fallen behind the smaller group in their break for the building. She’s almost in the grasp of a nasty-looking werewolf. If the rogue gets her, she’s a goner.
Close quarter fights don’t faze me, and I can do a hell of a lot more damage to these assholes than that phoenix can. He’s fast, but ineffective in a battle against so many. He’ll be able to get to her before I can. “You get the girl, I’ll hold them off.”
He finishes off his opponent, barely escaping the grasp of another rogue as he lifts back into the air. I can tell he’s almost done in, but he gamely races toward her.
To my horror, the werewolf reaches the girl before the phoenix does. My heart drops into my stomach. There’s no way a human can outrun one of those. I’m still far from the edge of the battle when she trips and goes down. Fuck, no! She can’t die now!
“Save her, damn it!” I brace for my mate’s death, praying she won’t suffer much, hoping the phoenix will reach her, but I know it’s a pipe dream. I extend my talons as I descend toward the mob. They’ll pay for this. By God, I’ll decimate every last one of them! This time, I fight not as a soldier following orders, but as a gryphon avenging my mate.
The girl rises and whips around to face her pursuer. Not with a death-cry in her throat, but with a crowbar and a home run swing that would hit the ball out of any stadium. The iron slams into the side of the werewolf’s head, knocking him off his feet, and half his face into an unrecognizable mash of meat. The girl is up and ready for another turn at bat, but the shifter isn’t moving.
The phoenix finally reaches her, dodging as she swings at him, too. She ducks under his reach and darts away, too close to the wolf. The phoenix says something to her, hovering low, waiting for her response. She nods and he grabs her, lifting her up just as I reach the battle.
Safe! She’s safe!
A fat, ugly little vampire with a wicked-looking knife leaps from the ground toward me, ripping through the flesh on my leg and pulling me down into the fray. The stinging wetness of blood drips down my leg where the vamp’s knife laid it open. Not fatal, but damned annoying when you have to fight.
With a flash of fur, the distinctive growl of a werewolf sounds to my right. They’re everywhere! I spin around to face it, clawing with my talons and dodging its nasty teeth. Their bites can’t turn a gryphon, but they can sure make us sick. This one looks and smells like it’s been on the street for a long time.
He rushes me, barely missing my wing as I lift into the air in attack. Adrenaline tears through my veins, pulsing in a twisted hunger as I rake the werewolf’s back with my rear claws. The scent of his blood brings out the hunter in me; my focus is absolute. His flesh provides little resistance as I tear through clothing, bone and meat like melted butter. With a twist in between my talons and claws, I feel his spine snap.
Damn, it’s good to be a gryphon!
Dropping the body, I turn to snatch up another rogue, grunting when something jumps on my back, trying to ride me like a prize stallion. Turning my head, I see the piss-ant vampire who stabbed me. His eyes glow and he leans toward my neck, fangs extended.
“Seriously? Fuck off, you little freak.” My beak rips a deep slash of red in his side, knocking him off balance. He slides, tearing feathers from my neck on his way down. Shit, that hurts worse than being stabbed!
The vamp leaps again, more tenacious than a tick. Grabbing him in midair, I speed toward the edge of the square. Slamming him into the upper part of a three story building, I let loose with a loud, triumphant battle cry. His squeal of pain as he slides down the rough stone and crashes into the ground is terribly satisfying.
Panting with battle lust, I dive back into the fray. Yeah, it’s good to be back.
Aurora’s Blog (3)
I know I shouldn’t, but I look back. They’re coming up fast. The sound of something close -- too close -- pushes me to try and catch up with the cops who sprint ahead toward City Hall. So much for public service.
A low growl rumbles from behind as I run. I’m not going to make it.
Pain bursts through me when I kick something on the ground. I trip, going down hard on my hands and knees. Damn it, not now! A crowbar spins out ahead of me, skidding across the concrete. I grab for it, and a bright burst of hope fills the emptiness in my stomach. The metal bar feels like solid, cold vengeance in my hand.
I scramble back to my feet and face the creature chasing me. Werewolf. A rank smell folds over me as the huge creature pauses, panting for breath. His eyes are fiercely wild as he crouches to attack. Definitely rogue. It’s like looking up into the massive, dripping jaws of hell and I’m the dinner special. “I was fighting for your rights!” The werewolf’s eyes widen as I swing the crowbar at him with every fear-laced ounce of strength in my body. The impact jars all the way up my arms.
God, don’t drop it! Readjusting my grip on the weapon, I fight the aching pain, ready to hit him again. The creature goes down before me, half his face mangled. He doesn’t move. Relief runs through me until a strange heat stirs above me. Have the buildings caught fire?
The steady beat of wings accompanies the warmth and I raise my weapon again, swinging at the thing attacking from the air. It rises above my reach, hovering in a fiery, bird-shaped silhouette. A phoenix? I thought they were just legends.
“Lady, stop waving that damned crowbar around. I’m trying to save you! Reach up so I can get you out of here before we’re overrun.” I look around; he’s right. The rogues have taken over the square, and those cops are long gone. A feeling of trust flows through me, as warm as the radiant heat from his beating wings. I raise my arms.
He grips me underneath my arms without digging his talons in, and then lifts off. I’ve always dreamed about flying. Curiously, I feel safe with him, though I have every reason to distrust paranormals today. A shiver of lust has me wondering what he looks like as a human. They all seem to have human forms -- that’s how they passed unnoticed for so long.
“Ahhhh! No!” Nauseating, ripping agony tears through my leg. The loathsome stench of the werewolf rises as it hangs on by sharp claws anchored in my thigh. I can feel the phoenix straining with the extra weight as he tries to lift me.
“Bitch, you aren’t getting away that easy!” The werewolf’s pained, raspy voice sounds my demise. We dip lower as the phoenix fights to keep me in his arms. A warm wave descends over me where he holds me -- infusing me with hope, strength. The solid weight in my hand reminds me that I am still far from helpless.
I grip the crowbar at the top with both my hands and stab downward, the pointed edge aimed right into the werewolf’s face. He yells as he sees it coming, but he has nowhere to go. The iron rips through his throat, flesh giving way to metal. A gurgling growl surges with blood as his claws tear free. His weight drops, pulling the crowbar from my hands.
Sweet, numbing darkness descends over me as my phoenix rises toward the sun.
* * *
“Damned werewolf caught her. She’s losing too much blood.”
The excruciating pressure on my leg rips a guttural sound out of my throat. I can’t open my eyes, but I can hear. The voice sounds professional, like he knows what he’s doing. Doctor? Rescue worker?
“Crap, she’s coming to. I need to close the wound before she bleeds out.”
“Here? Now?” a deeper, more growly voice questions.
“Yeah, it’s a risk, but she won’t make it if I don’t.”
I fight to rouse myself. These men are talking about me like I’m not even here -- and I am! I open my mouth to yell at them, but a horrible explosion of pain comes out instead. Nausea rises in my throat as the waves of hurt wash over me. I force my limbs to move, but one of them curses under his breath.
“Hold her still while I block the nerves, she’s going to make it worse thrashing around like that.”
More hands join the firs
t holding pressure on my leg, holding me down. Blessed relief folds me into its comforting arms as the pain suddenly recedes and numbness takes over. I float in the dark, lost in the stark contrast between consciousness and oblivion.
* * *
“Why isn’t she waking up? Fix her, damn you!” The growly voice echoes the denial rising in my chest as I try to pull myself out of the darkness.
“Back off. I’ve stopped the bleeding. The rest is up to her.”
“If she dies, you die.”
“Would you guys just shut up? And here I thought the werewolf was bad…” Finally, I can open my eyes. Two men face off, almost shimmering with rage. That’s got to be shifter magic! Real paranormals in the flesh -- right here next to me. I swallow, forcing the automatic shiver of apprehension back. If they’d wanted to hurt me, they would have done so by now.
“You’re alive.” The big guy is the one with the growly voice. Fierce green eyes and tawny hair, cut short in a military-style buzz. His finely toned, muscled chest strains at the olive-green T-shirt. Thick thighs fill out his camo pants, affecting me in ways I can’t even begin to process.
“Well, yes. It certainly looks that way, now doesn’t it?” He’s handsome enough, but maybe he was standing behind the door when brains were handed out.
“How are you feeling?” The professional. Taller and leaner than the other guy, deep blue eyes and collar-length dark hair. He’s built like a runner, where the other guy looks more like a football player.
“I feel…” Nothing. Everything.
I look down to my shredded slacks, covered in blood. The smartly tailored gray pants that I saved up weeks for are split all the way up to the waist on one leg. And where the werewolf attacked me is a shiny red scar in the shape of a handprint, surrounded by what looks like fingerprints. That’s it. Just a slight sting and the pull of newly-healed flesh on my inner thigh.
“Who are you guys?” I touch the scar gingerly, and then poke at it, wondering why it doesn’t hurt. A startling rush of heat flushes through me as I contemplate the mark. My nipples peak with desire, so tight they almost hurt. I can feel my pussy getting wet, swelling with need. Even the light silk of my panties as I move chafes me into a ravenous state of sexual craving. Finally, I look up at the men. “And what the hell did you do to me?”
Their eyes burn with interest, their nostrils flaring as if they can sense my desire. I squirm uncomfortably. It figures. I play the enforced role of a nun for the past three years while all the “real men” flee the city. Then here, in the middle of a battle, I have two -- count ’em -- two sexy heroes who look ready, willing and able to fulfill my every dark, dangerous desire.
A bullet whizzes by, just missing the professional. Several more pepper the edge of the roof. “Get down! They know we’re up here!” Growly-voice ducks as he whispers loudly to the other guy. He pulls me behind a battered roof vent, sheltering me behind his very broad back. Oh damn… a silent thrill runs through me. I love it when a guy goes all he-man on me.
He glares at me when I peek my head out, and another bullet hits the vent. He shoves me back. Yeah, being manhandled is nice -- but only up to a point.
“Maybe we should get out of here before explanations. Any suggestions?” I glance between the two paranormal-specials-of-the-day, forcefully cooling my jets. Hopefully they have an escape route in mind.
“I’ll carry the girl. You already used enough energy healing her.”
The professional nods, shifting with a flash into the phoenix I recognize from my rescue. He shimmers with heat as he waits. I feel my temper overriding my good sense as I turn to the other one. Yes, they saved my life, but that doesn’t negate common courtesy.
“My name is Aurora Monroe, not the girl.” Another bullet nicks the roof. “Hurry up, will you? I don’t plan on dying today.” The military guy grins and salutes, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Yes, ma’am!” He shifts in an instant, rising into the air.
Smart ass. Still, I can’t help but be impressed. “Wow, a gryphon and a phoenix! How cool is that?”
The gryphon picks me up and we take off, gaining altitude and heading north. The phoenix follows beside us as sounds of battle fade into the distance.
Varick’s Blog (4)
Untempered fire heats my blood with both desire and rage as we wing our way north. I fight the urge to attack the gryphon, though we already agreed he should carry the girl. He’s bigger and stronger, and it makes sense. Doesn’t mean I like it, though.
Need floods through me as I look at her, smell her, feel her. She’s marked now. My mark. But she has the gryphon’s mark, too. A combined mate-marking? I’ve heard of them before -- they’re rare. Always within the same species, though, and never with a human. What the hell are we going to do?
Phoenixes usually don’t make a permanent bond, although it’s possible. Since we tend to have a hard time sticking around, it’s kinder to not do it in the first place. While this isn’t our normal way of marking, I feel the connection nonetheless.
She’s an interesting-looking woman. Early to mid-twenties maybe. Auburn hair, curly, shoulder-length. Nicely rounded body, a full ass, and thighs meant to wrap around a strong man -- or strong shifter. I inhale deeply as her scent stirs me.
The gryphon glares. He’s got to be feeling the same confusion I am.
“Can we pull over for a bit? I need to rest.” The girl sounds exhausted and a little embarrassed, though her humor is obviously still intact. Pull over, indeed. We’ve been flying for ages, and the sun set half an hour ago.
The gryphon has more stamina than I’d have thought. He motions toward a clearing in the forest up ahead, starting his descent. “We’ll stay here for the night.”
I bristle at his tone, but it looks like a good place. We set down, shifting back to human form. I adjust my clothing, thankful for once that it shifts with me as I catch the woman staring.
“Where are we?” The sound of a river comes from the forest surrounding us, and a cabin with a wood porch sets back underneath the trees. I know we’re somewhere near Washington, but I’ve never been this far north before. Pretty -- and pretty remote. Looks like a good place to claim a mate to me.
“This is my place. I haven’t been here in a long time, but my family keeps it up for me, so it should be habitable.” He leads us up the porch, opening the door.
“It’s not locked?” Aurora’s shocked question turns the gryphon around with a smile.
“Nobody locks doors up here.”
“Wow. My parents told me stories, but I figured they were probably just making it up.” She shrugs her shoulders. Times have changed, and not for the better. “So, both of you know my name, but I don’t know either of yours.” Her direct gaze pins me to the spot, as if I’ve done something wrong.
“Varick Gerard.” Why the hell do I feel guilty? We saved her life. There wasn’t time for the niceties.
“Kender Russell.”
Her nod acknowledges our introductions. “I shouldn’t have gone to the rally, I know that now. Thank you both for saving me. I should have said it right away. But I was… a little distracted.” Her face reddens and the scent of her arousal grows stronger.
The gryphon clears his throat, as distinctly aware of her desire as I am. The muscles in his jaw clench as he watches her -- his fierce gaze one of predatory determination. He wants her, bad. So do I. This isn’t going to end well unless we get some things cleared up. Saving her life is one thing, but sharing a woman for life is something else entirely.
“I’ll get some dinner going. I let my family use the cabin when I’m not here, so the kitchen should be pretty well stocked. Varick, I assume you can start a fire?” He motions toward the fireplace where wood is already laid, then heads through an open doorway.
The clang of pots and pans in the kitchen accompanies the smell of burning wood. Tossing the burned match into the growing fire, I hear Aurora chuckle behind me. “You’re a phoenix and you use matches? Isn’t that kind of like
a fish drinking water?”
“Just because I can doesn’t mean I should, Aurora. Paranormals use their gifts when they need to. In some ways, we’re a lot like humans. It’s easier to use matches or a lighter. I like convenience as much as the next guy.”
“Well, you’re obviously not like the next guy. Neither of you are.” She drops her sweater on the couch as the fire starts warming the room. “How about you tell me what’s going on? I think I’m due an explanation, don’t you?” She touches the mark on her thigh, closing her eyes slightly. “Whatever you did to heal me… it’s… I…” Her brow furrows. “I’m usually not at a loss for words. And I am never out of control.”
I let out my breath -- didn’t even realize I was holding it.
“How much do you know about shifters, Aurora?” The gryphon’s voice breaks in as he enters from the kitchen.
“Not a lot, I’m afraid.”
He sits on a well-used chair near the fire. “I’m not quite sure how to tell you this…” He meets my eyes, and I see the question in his. She bears both our marks. As odd as it sounds, it feels right. Our mate. I nod to him; it’s beyond our control. But we’ll do what it takes to keep her safe… and ours.
I toss a few more sticks in the fire, trying to think of how to explain it to her. “We had to cauterize your wound to stop the bleeding. Kender’s hands over mine kept the heat in long enough to staunch it. If we hadn’t, you’d be dead. But in the process of saving you, apparently we marked you as our mate.” I tense, waiting for her reaction. I know it’s not going to be good.
“Mate? Like in wife? What the hell do you mean by that? I’m nobody’s mate. I’m a free woman!”
Even the gryphon cringes at her angry outburst. I’m surprised smoke isn’t coming out her ears.
“It wasn’t intentional. There’s nothing we can do about it now, anyway.”
OK, so maybe the gryphon isn’t Mr. Diplomacy. That little comment won’t do anything to help our cause.
Protect and Serve Shifting Forces Page 2
