Reckless

by Selene Charles

  She cringed, her ears unusually sensitive thanks to Helga’s constant shrieking. The woman had a set of pipes on her that would have made a banshee jealous.

  Carlito grinned at her. “So the bee lives.”

  Rolling her eyes, she groused good-naturedly. “You’re lucky I like you, or I’d jab a twig through your snake eyes.”

  “Har. Har. Har.” He chuckled. Coming to sit beside her, he glanced at the ice pack. “I knew the second I saw Helvelita leaving that you’d probably need this.”

  He reached into his pocket and extracted a small glass vial full of an amber liquid. She eyed it hard.

  “What the heck is that?”

  Uncorking it, he passed it to her. “Willow-bark tea and a few other herbs. Nothing special.” He shrugged.

  “Why can’t I just have an aspirin?”

  “Because human medicine doesn’t work on nonhumans like us.” His smile was broad but sweet.

  Wrapping her fingers around the glass tube caused her hand to graze his. His skin was soft. Felt human. It was so hard to see the scales lining his neck and cheekbones and not think one thing—snake!—but apart from her crew, Carlito was the first actual carnie she’d met that she kind of liked.

  The tent flap was tossed open again, and she gave a short burst of laughter when she saw Eli. At first he was smiling, but then his smile vanished when he exchanged a gaze with Carlito. Something hard and magnetic zipped between them.

  “Whoa,” she whispered.

  “What?” Carlito snorted, but his eyes were still only for Eli, who was gripping the tarp with white-knuckled intensity as he stared back.

  “Eli,” she said slowly, “did you need something?”

  As if the sound of his name broke him from his trancelike state, he blinked, looked at her, and then his shoulders visibly relaxed. “I... uh...” He swallowed. “Are you good?”

  Her grin turned lopsided. “Am I good? Oh sure, I love taking a beating before lunchtime. Thanks for asking...”

  She stopped talking when she realized the two of them had gone back to ignoring her. “You know,” she said, “I can always go find another tent if you need some time to yoursel—”

  “No.” Carlito jumped to his feet and then with a crooked grin at her started backpedaling toward the exit on the opposite side of the tent. “I have to go check on the horses. Bye.”

  Nodding at her and without bothering to look back at Eli, he disappeared.

  Her brows touched the tip of her bangs when she turned toward Eli.

  “And you think I have problems,” she muttered.

  With a growl, Eli curled his lips. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “’Kay then.” She swallowed the willow-bark tea. Which was surprisingly not bad at all. It tasted woodsy but also sweet, like he’d added some honey to it. Immediately she began to feel a lessening in the aches twisting her muscles up in knots.

  “So why exactly are you here, then?” she asked without preamble once she’d wiped her mouth.

  Eli slipped his hands into his jeans. “I’m sorry, okay. It’s just, it weirds me out that you know something I’ve been keeping hidden for months.”

  “Months.” She whistled. “That kind of blows, Eli.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, but if anyone were to find out about us, they’d kick Carlito out of the circus and I’d never see him again. At least this way, we have our moments.”

  “That’s crappy. And not much of a way to live. And why would they kick him out and not you?”

  “’Cause Carl’s not family.”

  “Would people really care that you’re gay, Eli? I mean, that sounds so incredibly stupid.”

  He shook his head. “No, they wouldn’t care. But they do care when the feelings are more than just a fling. I mean, you see what they did to you and Cain.”

  She twisted her lips. “Yeah, but Cain didn’t let them. And you don’t have to either.”

  He sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

  She kind of thought it was but also knew it wasn’t her place to push it.

  “Anyway...” Eli flicked his wrist. “Cain wanted to know how the knifeplay went.”

  She snorted. “Horrible. It’s like I couldn’t even remember how to hold one.”

  She stared at her hands. How could she have forgotten how to do something she’d learned years ago, that’d been second nature to her at one point?

  Before the accident she’d not even needed to think. The act of knife throwing and wielding had been so ingrained it’d been muscle memory.

  Today, not at all.

  The first time she’d grabbed a blade, she’d fumbled it so badly it’d very nearly gotten Helga in the gut. The next time she’d actually managed to throw it, but it hadn’t gotten anywhere close to the target. It’d hit a chair several yards to the left and landed with a mortifying thunk in the dirt.

  That was when Helga had decided to come at Flint, claiming that maybe seeing an attack head-on might help spur the instinct, but she’d barely even managed to take her first step before she tripped over her undone shoelaces and landed face-first.

  “I want to cry. Nothing’s going right. It’s like I’m forgetting who I am.”

  Eli patted her knee. “Maybe you’re not forgetting, bee, maybe you’ve been rebooted.”

  “Why. Please, God, somebody tell me why everyone always wants to give me a nickname? And bee, gah, that’s horrible.”

  He chuckled, crossing his arms. “Well, it was either that or beanpole seeing as how you’re nothing but skin and bones.”

  “Hey.” She tapped his shoulder. “I’ve got curves.”

  “Yeah, but not the right kind.” He winked.

  Smirking, she wiped at grains of dirt still caught at the corners of her mouth. “You’re horrible for a girl’s self-esteem. Just sayin’.”

  “I’m sure if I were into girls, I’d think you were hot. You do have a nice face.”

  “Oh gee, thanks.”

  They shared a stupid grin.

  “But seriously, Eli, you think I’ve been rebooted?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t make it a habit of studying my prey. Not the way Cain does. I’m more into gadgets and technology myself. Maybe this is all part of a hive reboot. I mean, they were human once.” He ran his fingers through his perfectly coifed blond hair.

  He really was good-looking.

  “You know, at least you and Carlito are lucky,” she said softly.

  He frowned. “I don’t know that I’d call what we have luck.”

  “I would. At least you don’t want to kill him when you see him.”

  Sighing long and loud, he draped an arm across her shoulder. “Sorry, bee.”

  Not that she at all envied what they were going through—at least she and Cain had been able to share a few private moments before her life had effectively turned into one major suck fest. Still, she’d much rather have what Eli and Carlito had than what she currently had with Cain.

  Sensing the mood getting much too intense, she shoved at his chest and bounced to her feet. “I’ve got another teacher showing up in just a few. So you should probably go.”

  As if on cue, a big bruiser of a male walked into the tent.

  Easily clearing six feet, he was dark skinned—had an Arab appearance with his kohl-rimmed eyes and shaved head—wore a leather vest and pants, and held nothing in his hammy fists. But he wouldn’t have needed anything anyway—he looked strong enough to eat Helga’s lunch and survive it.

  She swallowed hard.

  Eli, on the other hand, doubled over with laughter. “Oh God, Cain is gonna piss himself when he finds out you’ll be going mano a mano with Bruce.”

  “Bruce.” She groaned as the massive wall of muscle advanced without saying a word except for a grunt acknowledging his name.

  He got to the center of the ring, cracked his knuckles—the sound of which sounded like a sonic boom to her terrified ears—and made the curling-finger
motion implying “come get some.”

  “Don’t leave me alone here.” She grabbed Eli’s hand as he moved to get up and leave.

  Tossing the Hulk a furtive glance, Eli scrunched his lips tight. “Hey, you’ll be fine. And he won’t kill you. Right, Bruce?” he asked the man, who merely snarled back.

  Heart thundering, pulse pounding so hard in her ears she could practically taste it, she shook her head harder. “That’s not really much consolation. I don’t want to do this test. Send in a different one, okay?”

  “Flint. How about...” He took a seat. “I stay with you for this one. Just to make sure Bruce plays nice.”

  He clapped his hands to his knees.

  She hated being weak. Her mother had raised Flint to be an ardent feminist, to believe a woman was capable of doing all sorts of extraordinary things. A conviction she staunchly believed. Thing of it was, there were only so many ways this could go with Bruce.

  He was here for one thing. To fight. With his fists.

  “C’mon.” Eli nudged her gently on the back. “You got this. I saw you climb that tree last night.”

  “Being a monkey and being a punching bag are two entirely different things,” she whispered from the corner of her mouth as Bruce drew a line in the dirt with the steel toe of his cowboy boots.

  Eli snorted.

  Chuckling nervously, she gave Bruce a lopsided grin. “What’s that for? What are you doing? What do you want me to do?”

  She was totally babbling; she couldn’t help it. She was nervous and he looked like he wanted to eat her face.

  What kind of Nephilim was he? His eyes weren’t glowing. They were just a regular dark brown.

  She’d just barely set foot into the center when he charged her. Without warning, his huge, hammy fist landed in her gut and her world exploded with stars.

  “Hey!” Eli snapped, sounding furious. “What do you think you’re doing!”

  Grunting, she felt something strange happening to her insides. It was like... her blood was alive.

  It didn’t burn, but it rushed through her and it was whispering words.

  Her blood was singing.

  Visions swarmed her brain.

  A man with deep-seated blue eyes stood out on a hill in the middle of a rainy night. Lightning pounded the earth behind him. Before him stood a monster.

  A beast with green skin and at least a story high, maybe two. Tusks curled out of its lower jaw and red eyes gleamed like unholy flame.

  The man reared back and struck the beast, slamming it to the ground so powerfully that the earth shook, causing a plume of dust to settle down around them.

  The beast lay dead, and the man roared to the skies.

  He’d killed the beast with a punch.

  Eyes snapping open, adrenaline pumping through her so hard and so fast, she jumped to her feet just in time to see Eli hulking out, baring his fangs at Bruce, who was rapidly advancing on him.

  Flint never stopped to think, reacting solely on instinct. She curled her hand into a fist and launched herself at Bruce, delivering an uppercut that made his jaw crack. Landing squarely on his chest as he fell back, she slammed her palm against his voice box and snarled, “Do you submit?”

  A thin trail of blood curled out of the corner of Bruce’s mouth, and already the side of jaw was a flaming red. If he were human, there’d be a bruise tomorrow.

  She sensed it immediately. His submission. The snarling and fire that’d been so present on his face before now relaxed into a congenial smile. Turning his face aside, he spit out blood, then gave her a firm but swift nod.

  Crawling backward off him, she never took her eyes from his as he got up and, with a flourishy bow, turned and left.

  “Holy crap.” There wasn’t a trace of laughter in Eli’s words now.

  Rubbing her still-tender stomach, she gave him wide eyes. “I know.”

  Raking fingers through his hair, thoroughly disheveling it, he looked at her in a way she’d never seen him do before. Not fear, but maybe a smidge of respect.

  “How do you feel? Tired, exhausted? What the hell was that, bee?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not tired at all. In fact, I’m ready to keep going.”

  And she was too. Her blood still sang. Whatever Bruce had done, it’d unlocked her somehow.

  “Am I a berserker?” she asked mostly to throw Eli off the scent that what she’d just done had nothing at all to do with being part hive.

  “No way.” He shook his head, leaning down so that he could study her eyes closely. “Your muscle tone is the same. Your eyes are still brown.” He cocked his head, his look morphing, changing to one full of questions.

  There’d been so much power pumping through her. But not just through her body, more like it’d come up from the earth itself. He had to know.

  She couldn’t get the image of the man with the lightning out of her head. Had that been grandpa fairy or someone else? Shaking now, and not just from adrenaline, she turned to Eli.

  “What exactly was Bruce? Was he Neph, like Adam?”

  “No.” He stepped back, and it wasn’t possible that his frown could groove any deeper into his forehead, but it did. “He’s an Abaasy.”

  “A whaty?”

  “Abaasy. A demon with iron teeth. Strong as hell too.”

  She grimaced. What was up with all these demons? And here she’d been hoping for a unicorn-platypus shifter or something, just to switch things up a bit. “He didn’t look very demonish. But he sure did punch like a bear.” She groaned when she tried to sit.

  Chuckling, Eli helped her into the chair. “That’s because he’s wearing a charm, just like Rhi and Janet do. His true form is pretty horrifying.”

  “I seriously can’t imagine it.”

  “Try a one-eyed, one-armed, one-legged monster who, oh by the way, likes the taste of human flesh. A lot.”

  “And Adam sent that to me!” she shrieked, then immediately slapped at her chest in a rather crazy way. Hearing that was about as much fun as finding a roach crawling down her leg.

  “Bruce is tame. But yeah, Cain would probably lose his head if he knew.”

  She rubbed her head. “I’m gonna go find Adam.” She tried to stand and then winced as her gut clenched up. “Ouch. Crap. Nope. No, no I’m not. Can you send him here please, and maybe find Carlito and ask him for some more meds?”

  He gave her a knowing look. “Stop trying to play matchmaker, Flint, I’ve got this.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. “I’m glad you think I’m so transparent, but my insides feel like they’re leaking out, so I’m not really playing matchmaker here. Whatever he gave me before helped.”

  She grimaced as another horrible cramp seized her. It felt like the mother of all periods bearing down on her all at once.

  Coated in sweat now and doubled over, she landed on her knees, dry heaving. It hadn’t hurt this bad when Bruce had punched her. The panic of the moment was superseded by the all-consuming pain.

  Eli’s hands were on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” she snapped, punching at his hands to get him off her. “Get help.”

  The moment he left, she puked. But it wasn’t vomit coming up. It was golden powder. And there seemed to be no end to it.

  And as she did that, she noticed blades of grass pushing through the dirt, writhing and twisting like living things in her direction. Wrapping around her fingers, then her forearms, and she felt them on her feet too.

  She screamed, remembering the night she’d been pulled under.

  But no sound came out, nothing but the dust.

  Then she felt hands on her. Soft, gentle hands.

  “Flint, don’t fight this.” It was Rhiannon’s gentle voice ringing in her ears. “Stay back! Don’t come any closer—keep everyone out! Do you hear me?” she cried to some unknown figure up ahead.

  Flint couldn’t turn her head to see. Because now the grass was as tight as vines, and they were pulling at her. The ground was growin
g soft beneath her, shifting and groaning as though it were being split apart from the inside.

  Gasping, she choked on the dust. Not only did it pour from her mouth, but also her nose and ears.

  “You’re okay, girlfriend, you’re okay.” The gentle flutter of Rhi’s fingers washed across her forehead. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

  The thick, lush leaves of the vines snaked around her eyes, covering her sight. Shaking her head, she tried to get it to leave her alone. Tears rolled out of her eyes as she pleaded silently with Rhi to kill the plants.

  But she merely stared back at her. Flint felt the presence of other eyes. She didn’t know who they belonged to, and right now she didn’t care. Because the earth was opening up, and once more she relived her worst nightmare.

  With a final muffled scream, she was yanked under.

  Chapter 11

  Cain

  “Where is she!” he roared, shoving Eli and Seth aside as he tried to make his way down to the center of the ring.

  One second she’d been there, writhing and heaving, the next the land had literally fractured apart and swallowed her whole.

  Rhiannon notched her chin high, staring at all of them.

  When Eli had come out of the tent with eyes wide and screaming for Grace, Cain had known something awful had just happened. Flint was dead, or dying. Rhiannon, who’d been with him as they’d plotted their evening plans to capture any straggling hive members they could find, had rushed inside, moving lightning quick as only shadow could.

  “Rhiannon, what the hell!” Cain glowered, staring down the kanlungan with fire in his eyes.

  She shook her head and held up a hand. “Before you go ballistic on me, hear me out. Grace came and found me yesterday, told me that if Flint started vomiting up gold powder that it was called the awakening and to let it happen.”

  He frowned. At no point had Grace mentioned something like that to him. He curled his fist.

  But Rhi quickly spoke up. “She didn’t tell you probably because she didn’t trust you’d be able to stop yourself from fighting to drag her out.”

  Cain took a menacing step forward, but Adam stepped between the both of them and shouted, “Enough!”