Sagittarius

by Kim Faulks

  His low snarl slipped through the cracks in my mind, sounding so real, so clear, as though I hadn't run—I hadn't escaped.

  I want you...like I've never wanted anything before.

  The memory of his touch surfaced. Long fingers skimmed my stomach. Nails caught the sheer cloth of my shift. He rode that low curve and cupped his hand over my flesh.

  I'm going to put a baby in there, the past whispered, icy breath against my ear. I'll make you my Queen.

  Revulsion seared the back of my throat as I wrenched from the past. I stumbled, speared my fingers through wooden slats and the rails of the cot shuddered. “Not real. Not here.”

  A sickening silence descended, until the soft whisper came. And if I am, what then?

  “I'll kill you…” Bitter words stung my lips. Fangs carved soft flesh, and the sweetness of my own blood bloomed. “I swear on my own mother’s grave, I'll kill every one of you.”

  And behind the wall in my mind a guttural chuckle slipped into my present.

  A wall that’d taken me five hundred years to build.

  So fierce, even now standing here I still want you. You’re mine, Eva. Remember that…

  My sluggish heart lunged, slamming against the walls of my chest. I wrenched open my eyes and searched the room as the memory of that voice slipped away.

  Blinding light revealed the corners of the bedroom. I took in the mess and the perfection. The musky stench of male and wolf mingled with the bitter tang of pain...a human's pain—a mother's pain.

  The queen-sized bed was littered with a tangle of clothes and sweat-stained sheets, remnants of a restless night’s sleep. I inhaled and dragged deep the thick musky scent of male—a Guardian's room. Tiles and chrome filled the small bathroom through a doorway, next to it was a closet, big enough to walk into and big enough for a tired body to sleep.

  But there were remnants of its previous occupant. A man’s clothes hung in the corner of the closet, navy and silver carved the room from the bedclothes to the tiles, to the nightstand and lamp in the corner of the room. A single ornament hung on the opposite wall, a large arrowhead carved with hard edges from obsidian stone. I stared at the edge, near the tip, where a fragment of the stone failed to shine.

  The longer I stared the more powerful the call. Blood dulled the edge, old blood, ancient blood…Guardian blood.

  Zadoc’s blood was strong. Gabriel said his Dragon was still fighting—maybe the Guardian would win, maybe he’d lose. I stared at the arrowhead and drew in the masculine energy. But this one was strong… I took a step, skirting the end of the bed to stop at the wall…this one was powerful and savage.

  My calves trembled as I stretched. The energy called, searing the tips of my fingers as I brushed the stone. A snarl tore free, and I yanked my fingers away. The blood was still alive, still powerful. I snatched a shirt from the bed and wove the end around the stone. Powerful enough to end it all.

  Careful, Eva…Don’t play games with me. Don’t ever, ever think you’re capable of that.

  “This is no game.” I grasped the stone and jerked the blade from the wall. Determination soared. Freedom just one flick of the wrist away. “I’ll kill your Dragon, and then I’ll be rid of you once and for all.”

  You think it’s that easy? You think I’d leave? You’ll be done when I say you’re done. Remember what happened before…

  A whimper came from the cot. I turned, catching a blur of black beneath pale pink.

  “You can’t stop me. Not this time. I’ll finally be free.” The room swayed, blending sunshine on black.

  Her scales glinted, so perfect and pure. Still I could taste him, taste the hate and the corruption. I took a step, and skimmed my nails along the soft pink blanket. “Free of you…”

  I slipped the weapon out of my skirts. Round midnight eyes found me. She was born wild and fierce. A cage was no place for something like her, and that's where he'd put her...in the cage of her own mind.

  She'd not be alive, not really. Not in mind, nor in soul. Not free to live and to love. Not free of anything. The walls around me seemed to close in. This was a kindness. A quick death others could mourn and everlasting peace for her.

  The arrowhead clicked against glass. I pulled the vial from of my skirt. Dirt smudged the label, but it was clear enough. I stared at the printed name at the bottom, Doctor A. Leigh.

  They'd know the blood came from the mountain, and they'd know it was the Huntress who brought it. Her face reared in my mind, shimmering against the backdrop of my bottomless rage.

  I dropped the cylinder amongst the soft throw. The cracked glass bled, staining the pale pink bedsheets with dark, fetid blood. “I'm sorry. Sorry for all the things he's done to you, and the life you could've had. But I won’t let him hurt you, won’t let him do to you what he did to me.”

  I gripped the edge of the sheet and dragged it low. Her tail flicked out from underneath, the soft tuft wrenched high, and lashed the side of my wrist. The sting was instant, searing along the bone, wrenching a hiss free. My fangs lengthened, sliding along my lips. Dark blood beaded, filling the widening gash until it ran over. I jerked my gaze high, to her perfect dark eyes. “You are the Wretched's daughter, aren't you?”

  Pain kept me focused, stilling my nerve as I bent over the wooden railing.

  “But not for long, our hunter leaves his mark—inside your veins...and inside your mind. But he won't leave you.” I slid my hands under her arms and lifted.

  Long black claws gutted the soft pink comforter. Fabric tore, spilling tufts of white wool to the floor.

  The frills around her neck flared. Needle-like tines rose along her spine, like the hackles of a damn wolf. She hated me. Good. I wanted that hate…needed it to finish what I’d started. Smooth black lips curled, revealing rows of razored teeth.

  Even tiny and helpless, she was ready to draw blood, ready to fight and bring this world to its knees.

  Our tormentor picked well.

  Her wings flapped, air buffeted my face, casting the hair from my shoulders. His power thrummed, filling her veins, her heart...greed and hunger burned like fire.

  My fangs ached. I swallowed, unable to tear my gaze from her vein. “He'll never leave you. He'll get inside your head. He'll twist and he'll turn... He'll make you do things you don't want to do, and things you do. He'll make you weak...like he made me weak. I won't let that happen, not to you…”

  Bottomless eyes blinked and then held mine. In the reflection I saw the monster I'd become. Pale skin shone, raven hair gleamed. The face of a betrayer...of a killer. My throat tightened, a lump slipped toward the empty hole in my chest. I glanced to the small bones of her face, following her snout to thin black lips. She was perfect, so utterly perfect. A tiny immortal Dragon—the first of its kind, born and not created. No wonder he'd fallen in love.

  I combed my fingers through the small tuft of wool at the base of her chest. Her breath caught, chest flared under my hand. My fingers slipped on smooth scales until I found the ridge of her chest. Her heart thundered under the surface.

  I'm coming for you, Eva... I'll make you my Queen...

  A screech tore free from her. The vibration trembled through my fingers as she whipped her tail through the air. The tuft of hair caught her chest and black blood seeped free. Demon blood...I eased her arm and swiped the faint drop that welled.

  The bead glistened, sliding across the ridge of my finger. I opened my mouth to the sharp ridge of my nail, and slipped my finger inside. His power raced, consuming my mouth, my tongue....my body.

  Vampire blood.

  I'm coming for you...he whispered. Cold rage washed over me. I tightened my hold around her throat, gouging the long line of her vein. “Not if there’s nothing left to come for.”

  The tiny pulse sped, pressing against my nail, and for a second it held me, this fight for life...I once fought the darkness and the pain. I once wanted to survive and live—to be whole and free, and unburdened from these chains. But no more…now I und
erstood my purpose—now I knew my fate. But could I share this fate with her?

  “Please, don't hurt her.”

  The shaky words slipped into the room. Movement came from the doorway. A young girl stepped inside. Not a girl—no—a woman. A young mortal woman. She glanced at the Dragon in my hand and her eyes betrayed her.

  I knew she was the mother, knew by the terror in her gaze, and the tremor in her words. It was the same woman I saw through the window. From a distance she looked older, harder. But here and now I saw her own birth in the glint of her eye.

  She had the kind of spark that burned bright—a fresh star, a perfect star. She glanced to my hand. Her words shook as she whispered. “I-I’ll give you a-anything, just don't hurt my baby.”

  Freedom, peace...could she give me that? Could she still the voice inside my head and ease this empty cavern of my heart? Could she stop this monster? I squeezed my fist, warm flesh drove against my nail. Didn't she see, couldn’t she understand? I was saving her.

  “She’s my baby. My child. You’ll have to kill me as well.” The young mother lifted her hand. Fingers trembled as she took one slow step inside the room. “Take me instead.” Her fear-filled eyes found mine. “Take me.”

  Movement blurred from the hallway behind her, another woman stepped close…this one older. Her dark hair was piled and pinned on top of her head in a wild tumble of dark brown curls that matched wide, honest, brown eyes. The Doctor.

  Still they were nothing more than mortals. Fragile, insignificant mortals that knew nothing…nothing…

  Glass shattered behind me, filling the room with the unmerciful crack, to drown out the mother’s cry. Shards of debris sliced my clothes. I dragged the baby close, sheltering ebony scales and wings as a heavy thud hit the floor behind me.

  The snarl of a wolf was cold…sickening, finding the darkest parts of my mind. The hairs on my arms rose as I turned and stared at what was left of the window.

  The heavy thud behind me had been deceiving. The young, skinny woman rose from a crouch, glass fell like jewels from her clothes and hit the floor. Her dark brown hair had been hacked and shaved, some parts so close to the scalp they looked like scars. But it was her silver eyes that held me—a cold, savage glint I’d not seen in a wolf before. “Give the child to her mother.”

  “X,” Joslyn whispered.

  The sudden catch of breath behind me was followed by a quick, panicked step. I clutched the wriggling child tight and focused on the shifter. There was something about her, something more than her thin frame and cold stare. She took one slow step. “I said, give the child to her mother.”

  I dug my nails harder, slicing flesh and tendon. The child squealed, writhed. Talons found a hold in my arm. “Take one step wolf and it’ll be the child’s head I’ll give her.”

  The guttural sound that followed said more than words. Soft Cherokee features belied the beast inside. She’d fight me.

  Maybe she’d win. Maybe she’d lose.

  Maybe we’d all lose.

  Movement came to my right. The Doctor held out her palms. Her terrified gaze found my hold. I waited for the flare of panic, for the screams and the cries. But there was nothing but a quiet urgency as she lifted her hand and whispered. “No. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. We’re not going to hurt you. We’re not going…”

  I flinched at her words. Not going to hurt me?

  The child squealed, writhing in my grip. Warm blood ran down my skin and the power of his control thrummed. But this was no resurrection. This was no spell of life—this was sacrificial. One quick death to end it all. He couldn’t survive, couldn’t have what he wanted. Didn’t they see that? Not without her and not without me.

  I could end it all, right now.

  Wings slapped my arms as I lifted the child. A cry tore from the mother’s lips. The edge of my nail sank deep. One clench and her vein would spilt. The child was weak. She’d not struggle, not defend. Only the peace of a final death waited for her.

  Her claws dug deep, spearing into my wrist. She was small and helpless. He had no right to want her—no right to touch her.

  Black blood slipped down the length of my wrist. The longer the slick trail grew the more I felt her spirit struggle. She was still in there…fighting…fighting…just as I fought.

  “I could help you. Tell me how to help you,” the Doctor murmured. “Do you need blood? Do you need someone to talk to? I can be that person. Just look at me. Come on, please…here I am…over here.”

  I dragged my focus from the trail of blood to the two women in the room. The young mother trembled—the other woman took a slow step closer. This child had something I didn’t—two mortal women ready to die to protect her.

  That realization was a spear through my heart. “You can’t help me. No one can. He won’t leave me alone, don’t you understand? Just like he won’t leave her. I’m trying to save her…trying to…”

  A gust of wind scattered my hair. I caught the movement as Gabriel slipped into the room, eyes blazing with fear. He never once looked at the women, never once looked at the child. His gaze was for me and me alone as he whispered. “Princess, I beg of you. Don't hurt the child.”

  My hand trembled. I clenched, dragging her harder against me as the walls closed in. Gabriel knew…knew why I came, knew what he did to me.

  He knew it all.

  One smooth step and the warrior moved in front of the Doctor. His eyes alight, hand trembling, begging me not to shed blood. I’d never seen him flinch before, and his fear stained the air. I lifted my gaze to the mortal at his back. Was his terror for me, or for her?

  The sting cut deep. My own warrior…

  The child squirmed, lashing with that merciless tail as I dragged my nail free. I held his piercing gaze as pain savaged his features, twisting, and shattering…mirroring my own heart.

  Maybe father was right. Maybe we do get what we deserve.

  And what I deserved was betrayal.

  Salvation slipped, and the warrior was a daze, lunging forward to catch the innocent mid-air. But I was already gone, lunging through the open doorway and spearing headlong into my past.

  8

  Eva

  The ground was a blur. My boots kissed pebbles and grass. Trees whipped by, reaching out with spindled claws to scratch my face.

  The thunder of footsteps haunted me. I didn’t need to turn to know who matched my pace. I wanted to fly, to find the rhythm of the wind and feel the weightlessness of my bones.

  But I was trapped here, feet tied to this earth, weighed down to this flesh…this mind—this past.

  I sucked in the bitter hurt and turned. The blur was fast, hurtling toward me. I splayed my fingers, catching his momentum mid-stride with the strength of royal blood.

  Gabriel’s eyes widened. The warrior kicked, bucked. Reflex rode his spirit as he dragged a fist high, until in the blink of an eye he stilled. “Princess.”

  “What do you know?”

  Blond hair shimmered under the moon. A shadow of dread passed his widening gaze.

  I squeezed until bones snapped. The slide of dark blood crested pale lips as I leaned close. “I said, what do you know?”

  “Nothing.” Splatter hit my face as he hissed. “I suspected, that’s all. I…I promise.”

  Bones cracked under my grip. This was no child, no innocent. He was made for steel and blood—and sacrifice if needed. “You suspected?”

  “Please…Princess.” He whimpered and closed his eyes, hands still at his sides. He’d not raise them. He’d never raise them—not to me. “Not until I stepped into the room did I know what you intended.”

  “And now?” I skimmed my nails down his arm and gripped his wrist.

  He wrenched his eyes open, terror lingered in the depths. “No.” The plea was a whisper.

  But there was no flinch, no fight. Not that he could win against me anyway.

  “Princess…I beg…”

  There was a tremble in his arm as I lifted.
“If you have nothing to hide, then it shouldn’t matter what I see, should it?”

  The shattered bones in his neck bulged, grinding together as he swallowed. The whites of his eyes peeked around midnight rims. I delved into his memories and found nothing but fog. He was fighting. Maybe not in flesh, but in mind, in spirit.

  He was closing down, pulling his darkest secrets into the cavern of his soul. He thought he could protect them. He thought he could keep them from my reach.

  My fangs lengthened as I widened my mouth. There was no secret I couldn’t unearth, no desire I couldn’t see. Not now—not ever. “Last chance, warrior. The truth.”

  Pain lashed his gaze. “I swear to you on my honor—on my life. I knew nothing.”

  I twisted his hand and exposed his wrist. Pale skin hid deep veins. “Then you won’t mind me taking a look.”

  His muscles flexed, bones trembled, fighting every inch as I dragged his wrist high, slipping under the leather sheath across my mouth and struck, carving skin and flesh to find the faint, weak beat. Old blood wept, barely finding the surface.

  I slid my tongue out, finding the small bead of blood and swallowed. Darkness and light crowded my mind, movement of past memories whipped around in my head so fast I could barely catch them.

  I stood in the shadows with the stench of death and dust choking the air. A howl breached the gaps in the walls, and great panting breaths followed. The sound stood the hair on the nape of my neck. Wolves, panthers dragged me deeper into the warrior’s mind, along with the husky croak of a woman…

  Give me a weapon…give me a weapon and I’ll fight. The slow, weak thud of a mortal’s heart filled my ears.

  We have no weapons, Doctor…we are the weapon…

  His memories slipped, moving forward with a rush. I held onto this mortal woman with everything I had left. Don’t let her go. Don’t fail her.

  The rich scent of her blood rode the last traces of strength. Desire and need waged a war, battling with fangs and claws as I tightened my hold.

  She needed me…she needed me more than she needed anything else. I was her protector. I was her shield. I’d not let her down…I couldn’t let her down…