Niles dragged his destroyed body closer as he slipped back into his Human shell. His hand touched Haley’s and a small tentative smile curled on his lips. It fit him, that moment of contentment.
“Forgive my Brother. He was not strong enough to fight her. He could not do what had to be done. His conscience made him weak.”
The Alchemist descended and heaved Niles’ broken Human form back. Haley tried to hold onto him, but there were too many.
Rain fell in a steady thrum, keeping beat with the thump of chopper blades mutilating the skies. Water covered everything, washing away the blood, washing away the fire. Haley could see Niles between the crowd of Alchemists, his massive arms pulled back, his chest hanging open, bones jutting from his one remaining leg, and still he smiled. It was a haunting expression on such a broken body.
Silver flashed and the smell of magic burned the air, searing Haley’s lungs. Niles shuddered once, and his head fell.
Sound returned and the horrible ear splitting sound rattling Haley’s skull was her own scream.
Niles Fury was dead.
Chapter 42
As weather sirens sounded off, Ken clicked on the TV. After all, what idiot could possibly come up with a tornado in the middle of September? Even for Georgia that was a bit of a stretch.
When the special report flashed on, Farley felt his stomach drop.
“Damn, that’s just a little bit west of here.” Ken sat down on his pseudo sofa. Some grainy footage snapped by a cell phone showed a massive red dragon taking out the top of the ADF, then a smaller blue making chase. It was less than thirty seconds of digital recording, but it was enough for Farley to know. Haley wasn’t on the plane.
“Ken, I need your car.”
“My car?”
Farley growled and Ken pointed to the hook by the door. “Keys over there, man.”
Farley’s shit kickers thundered as he stormed out of the apartment. He hit the sidewalk and pressed the keyless remote. Up ahead a green Nissan blinked its lights with a not-so-subtle beep. He slid across the hood of some white monstrosity, soaking his pants in the fresh rain, landed on the other side, and hop-skipped the distance to Ken’s car.
Farley turned on the radio as he pulled into the street. Announcers came on in panicked voices warning people to stay indoors. The Alchemist teams had been called. Niles Fury had somehow escaped. Reports were sketchy. Some claimed he had gotten out of the ADF. Some claimed he had escaped en route to his execution.
Either way it was going to end the same. A lot of people were going to die.
Farley took a left, slinging the Nissan’s ass-end. The rear wheel made an ugly grinding sound when he clipped the curb. He slammed the gas and after another moment, whatever was making the noise came loose.
Hopefully, it wasn’t anything important.
On the narrow streets, Farley dodged in and out of traffic, never stepping on the brake, and barely letting off the gas. The RPM flared close to danger.
He pulled out his cell phone and hit redial.
“This is Gregory.”
“Change of plan.”
A breath hitched then deepened. “We saw the news report.”
“She’s going to be fine, Justice.” Because why the hell would Niles try and kill her after watching over her so long?
“Nidia knew she would try and stop him. She knows Haley’s affection for Humans.”
“Justice, what the hell does Nidia have to do with this?”
“This Niles belongs to Nidia.”
“Fuck. When the hell did this happen? When the fucking hell--”
“When is unimportant.”
Farley took the next turn too tight and the Nissan Versa shimmied across the wet road. Then it hit the speed bump and went airborne. The front end skirted against the asphalt. There were no sparks; only a spray of plastic.
On the car radio, the newscasters were in a full scale reporting orgasm. Blips and sound bites came in from all directions.
Farley growled. “I’m going to Medan’s.”
“I understand.”
“Can I count on you?” God of Man, he sure hoped he could. Otherwise there was a good chance he wouldn’t come out alive.
Scratch that. He definitely wouldn’t come out alive.
“I gave Haley my word. I never break my word.”
The line went dead.
This time of morning the Dens were desolate. A few stragglers lingered outside the Pit doors, still too drunk or stoned to be worried about rain. Farley flicked on the wipers and they left little streaks of slush with each pass. The radio announcer interrupted his own update, to bring an even more important update. Niles Fury, escaped man-eater, was facing off with Alchemist soldiers who were trying desperately to apprehend the subject with minimal loss.
Farley flicked his gaze to the radio, as if glaring at the damn thing might send a few thousand volts through to the talking head.
Minimal loss. They really thought Alchemists care about minimal loss? Yeah, right.
A good three blocks down from the night club, he found what he was looking for. A shortcut into the Hive.
Farley parked at the curb and left the keys in the car. In the Dens, it was as safe as sitting on the showroom floor. Although, it didn’t look very showroom worthy right now. Not with the scrape marks on the rear fender and the front bumper cracking up like Humpty Dumpty. Was something leaking underneath? He didn’t look. It was better just not to know.
The doorway was located behind a grate set in the sidewalk. Farley had to shove the dumpster off of the top so he could pull up the wire mesh and slide inside. Unlike the Pit entrance, there was nothing comfortable about this place. Hell, there wasn’t even enough room to stand. And wouldn’t you know it, thanks to the rain, there was now a good three inches of street slough flowing down the center. Farley’s shoulders bumped the side and his back rubbed against the top as he crawled through the corrugated pipe.
At the end, where he could stand again, he found the door. It was hidden by a brick facing. The surface was so smooth that even with his natural sight he couldn’t see it. But the scent of the Queen breathing out of the cracks in the mortar was unmistakable.
Farley pushed and it gave way with a grind, revealing a much wider, taller passageway on the other side. The tunnel didn’t feel like it had much pitch, but he could tell by the way the earth felt, smelled, and how the world above him seemed to increase in weight, he was going deep.
At the end, on the other side of a heavy curtain, was an all too familiar room.
The parlor with its priceless treasures appeared to have gained a new item. Granted, Farley was no car expert, but he was pretty sure the dark blue antique car was a 1931 Bugatti Royale. Even in the low light the paint on the thing gleamed.
“Do you like it?”
Medan eased from the darkness at the end of the room, bringing the shadows with her as her massive form smothered the pitiful light. It took everything not to run full speed out of there. Save himself. Survive. Farley melted on hands and knees into the fur covered floor.
“You did not answer your Queen, Farley. Do you like it?”
“Yes, Your Greatness.” He struggled to keep his lip from trembling as her presence invaded his space. God of Man, where was Justice?
She hissed, clicked, and purred. Farley hated the sounds she made. They were the things of his nightmares. That and the face of a blonde woman with the word chetrah stamped across her chest.
“Have you come back? Perhaps you are hungry?” Her tone suggested the kind of sin that involved a lot of blood, screaming, and begging for life.
“I come to you on behalf of To Whom I Belong.”
“Show me your mark, Little Gold. Let me gaze upon the brand you wear for her.” Medan’s breath hit the back of his neck and he yelped. Farley pulled his shirt off and crumbled it into his fists. He shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.
“Ah, yes. Her scent is strong. She has renewed the bite. Did you rage? Did y
ou kill any of the chetrah?”
Something sharp pricked the skin along his ribs, chased by the sensation of feathers.
Farley shook his head. “No, no, My Queen.”
“Too bad.” The sound she made was indifferent. “You puzzle me, Farley.” The petting stopped. “Stand.” That was so not a request. Farley pushed himself to his feet but kept his head down. Medan’s breath kissed the scarred flesh of his shoulder. “Even my strongest cannot do what you do. How do you suppose that’s possible?”
What the hell was she talking about? Oh, yeah, that’s right. She couldn’t read him. Even this close she couldn’t burrow into his mind. She could drown him in her emotions until he suffocated, but she couldn’t glean a single thought. And boy-oh-boy did that seem to piss her off.
“I don’t know.” It was the truth.
Medan’s golden eye came in close, and the fire behind it roared. Fear trickled in, pelting Farley like molten rain. His knees shook, his arms trembled. He clenched his eyes shut, hoping it would help, but it didn’t.
“Why are you here, Little Gold?” She coiled around him. “Tell me, Farley, Marked of Haley Night. Tell me.”
“I bring you flesh, I bring you blood.”
“Yesss--” Her scales rose and fell with the sound of fall leaves. “So now my gift is wanted. Now my gift is valued. It is my gift to give and it is my gift to take away!” She thundered and bits and pieces of rock sprinkled from the ceiling. With a sharp tick and then a crack, spider webs formed on the windshield of the Bugatti Royale. “Look at me, Farley. Look me in the eye. Only then I will take the flesh and blood you carry. Only then will I decide to extend my gift. A simple task that even something as weak, pathetic, and useless as yourself should be able to accomplish!”
Fear flowed over Farley. He struggled to lift his head. Medan’s laugh was a sound that spent dark nights in the sheets with madness.
“Look at me, Farley. Gaze upon your Queen!”
Farley’s knees gave out and he went down. His stomach rolled and he threatened to vomit. Lungs burning, muscles writhing, he fought her Fear. The beat of his hearts became erratic. Ugly black bruises bloomed across his arms and he tasted blood in his mouth. Farley felt his bones creak, his joints threaten to tear.
Dear God of Man, hurling himself into a chipper shredder would have been easier than this.
Panic, terror, Fear, Medan’s RHage, the power of a Queen, it filled him, it flowed over, it claimed his senses and rendered him helpless.
Farley cursed himself for being weak, for being Food. He was going to die, he was sure of it. And that meant Haley would die, too.
God of Man, Haley... He inhaled and smelled her, licked his lips and tasted her on his tongue. Across every inch of skin he felt her warmth.
Farley’s head came up and he met the Queen’s gaze.
Medan reared back.
Stop.
Behind that one word, was the promise of power.
Medan froze, her clawed hand raised. Steam billowed from her gaping jaws. The cover of tranquility lifted, and Farley fell back gasping, his entire body trembling.
Behind him something big moved. He whipped his head around to see Justice standing in the entrance of the parlor. In spite of the haze of darkness and shadows, his ivory form glowed.
He met your request, Medan.
“You helped him.”
Justice inclined his head. I did not.
“Liar!” She roared. Her wings rattled, and her chelae shredded the furred floors.
Justice’s liquid blue eyes pulsed. I do not lie.
Farley struggled to stand up. “’Bout fucking time you got here.”
Medan spun on her heel and dove into the shadows, her golden eyes burning like high beams cutting through the blackness. “You are not welcome in my Hive. Get out.”
After. Justice nudged Farley with his muzzle. Go to her. Give her the flesh and Blood. Haley’s time is short.
Farley’s entire body felt like it had spent a thirty second go round in a food processor ... on puree.
“The gift is no longer extended.” Medan clicked and snarled.
Farley glanced her way, then at Justice. If he didn’t know any better ... naw ... no way... Damn. Was she afraid?
Justice took a step forward and Medan’s fire lung rumbled.
Farley, go to her now.
Farley went forward, his entire body trembling.
Justice sat back on his haunches and tucked his talons under his chest. He looked absolutely unremarkable in his simplicity. No more games, Medan. Take the bond. Make her your Enforcer. It is what you have always wanted. Needed.
Farley stopped just a few yards away. Medan flashed her teeth. “This is going to be excruciating for you, Little Gold. Why not tell the white demon you have changed your mind?”
Farley looked back at Justice.
He blinked once, but otherwise was frozen in time. Yes. It will hurt.
“Like how bad. Are we talking as in getting an arm ripped off or getting two ripped off?” Silence. “Shit. That bad, huh?”
Worse.
Farley knew Medan expected him to run, being a Male, Food, a survivor of the nest only because he was willing to be Dominated. Living only because of his willingness to hide, to bargain, to give whatever it took. No doubt, courage wasn’t even a part of the equation in that kind of survival.
Her eyes widened when he gave her a crooked smile. “What are you waiting on, Your Majesty?”
The definition of a bad day is seeing your own insides. One minute Farley was standing, the next he was on his back staring up at the Queen. Her talons came across his stomach, slicing him open. A scream boiled up his throat.
Be still.
He threw his head back and saw Justice sitting there like a goddamned Disney display, while she pulled out his insides. “Easy for you to say, fucking ... Christ ... Oh, dear God of Man,” he wailed as she dipped a talon into the open wound, prodding, poking. His legs trembled and his bladder let go. Medan’s long tongue slipped from her teeth and dipped into the gaping hole she’d carved just above his pelvis. She dragged a glossy bulge out of the wound and laid it on his groin. Farley fought the pain, the sense of his life draining out on the floor beneath him.
And Medan? Well, she took her time. The bitch.
She moaned as her tongue slipped into his stomach, collecting the contents. Lines of temporal fluid leaked from the sides of her head and she smelled of sex and pleasure.
Medan made strange clicks and whistles as she withdrew back into the shadows, wings sagging, feet scuffing against the floor. Farley looked down at himself and pushed his insides back in place. He held himself together, willing his body to heal.
Drink from me, Farley.
The Great White offered him a bleeding palm.
We must go.
Heat burned over Farley’s body as he swallowed. There was something powerful and familiar in Justice’s blood. Just when Farley thought he was going to figure out what it was, his jaws popped loose of their own accord.
Farley groaned and shoved his hands down the front of his pants, trying to keep his erection from grinding against the material, and instantly came.
“Fuck! What the hell is in your blood?” When he looked, Justice was already moving down the tunnel.
Hurry.
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one sporting a woody. Justice must have been eating Viagra by the buckets. Farley scrambled to catch up.
“Wait.”
There is no time.
“Shit, wait. I can hardly walk.” Farley pushed himself forward even though his legs felt like rubber. As he entered the tunnel, Justice disappeared around a corner. Farley didn’t think he was going to be able to keep up, but the more he moved the easier it became. It was like his body remembered there were other limbs that needed a blood supply.
Justice took him on a winding path down tunnels Farley didn’t recognize, and they exited out of a gaping hole in the floor of an old factory
building. Outside, the rain had turned into snow. It was too warm for it to stick, so it just formed puddles of not quite ice, not quite rain.
In the middle of the warehouse, Farley sank to his knees, his body spent. At least his insides weren’t hanging out anymore.
You will be safe now. Justice turned to leave.
“Wait. Wait a minute. Damn it.”
The Great White paused.
“Thank you.” Man, Farley hated having to tell him that. He still didn’t like him. Even if he did keep his word. “For everything. What you did back there. I don’t know what was worse, her RHage or her...” He touched his stomach and shivered. If he never saw his own insides again, it would be too soon.
You are welcome, Farley. But I did nothing.
He laughed. “Yeah, sure. How did you lie? I didn’t even smell it.”
I do not lie.
“Bullshit. You told Medan you didn’t stop her from unloading all that scary voodoo of hers, but I felt it. It stopped.”
Justice lowered until one blue eye hovered in front of Farley’s face.
It was not me that stopped her. It was you.
Justice slipped out of the over-sized garage door and around the corner. Farley went after him.
“Wait. Do you really expect me to...” The street was empty except for a few dumpsters and Ken’s puke green Nissan. Farley turned the other way, jogged to the corner. He scanned the sky where the morning sun was losing the fight with the clouds. “Great ... just great.” Well, if Justice ever lost his day job, he could moonlight as the next Criss Angel.
Not only could the Great White lie without twitching, he could disappear into thin air.
Chapter 43
Haley was cold. Which seemed to have become a recurring bad habit. And like two packs a day, it was seriously detrimental to her health. She opened her eyes and was blinded by white. White walls, white ceiling, white floors.
At first she thought she was in a hospital, because there was an IV port in her right arm. But wide bands crossed over her limbs, buckling her down with a combination of metal and leather.
Haley pulled against the straps. The pin in her back flared, and the acrid stench of burning magic made her eyes water.
City of Dragons: Blood Bonds Page 34
