by Rosalie Redd
“That is the question of the hour,” he said.
Cuts and bruises marred his arms and legs. When he breathed, his breaths were shallow as if he were in great pain. His left leg was smaller than his right and misshapen, forcing him to lean to the left. They had tortured him. When would they come back to finish the job?
Footsteps approached from the hallway. She tensed, and her pulse pounded in tune with each step.
A Gossum’s massive body filled the entrance to her cell. The light from the corridor illuminated him from behind, and his face was a mask of shadows. He snickered. The low sound chilled her arms.
The large male stepped into the chamber, and his features became visible in the dim light. His grim face accentuated his bulbous nose. The brim of his cap covered the back of his neck.
From prior experience with Gossum, she knew he wore the hat to hide his bald head and the beginning of the hard scales that ran down his back. Although once human, he no longer required his eyelids to protect his hard, lizard-like, black eyes. They reflected the light with an eerie shine.
“Ah, good, you’re awake. Are you ready to chat?” His menacing voice rasped with venom.
Melissa clamped her lips tight. The steady drip of water nearby echoed against the bare walls. Her damp hair hung in her eyes, the bitterly cold strands clung to her cheeks and arms.
His face turned red at her silence, but he remained calm. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. His yellow and black high-tops stood out like a beacon. He could still pass as human, given the right clothing to cover his hairless body and neck scales.
“Ignoring me won’t help your cause,” he said.
“Don’t give in to his demands.” Gaetan pulled against his chains.
Their jailer sauntered over to Gaetan. “Still with us, I see.” He touched Gaetan’s face, raking a claw over his cheek.
Gaetan snarled, and his good eye glowed with specks of gold.
“Oh, yeah, we’re making progress.” The vile creature chuckled. He turned toward Melissa, and a chilling smile revealed his serrated teeth, the ones he hid from the humans.
She shivered at the sight. Her life couldn’t end this way, at the hands of her enemy. Memories of Seth and William raced through her mind, and a knot of determination formed in her stomach. She would fight for them, to honor their memory.
She yanked on her chains but only succeeded in opening cuts on her wrists. Blood trickled over her arm and dripped onto the concrete floor. She wanted to scream her rage at the Gossum, but she held her anger in check, barely.
Like a black cloud, their captor’s presence filled the room. Even in his nonchalance his gaze pierced her, held her in place, while a cool bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck. She feared him, but she wouldn’t give her tormentor the satisfaction of seeing her weakness.
“Tell me your name, my dear.” His soft and encouraging voice belied his evil intent.
She refused to speak, and instead, raised her chin.
“C’mon now, how is telling me your name going to hurt?” The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile. He returned to Gaetan and pointed, a claw extending like a crooked tree branch from his bony finger near the prisoner’s good eye. “I like the sound of his howl. Would you like to hear it?”
Heat flushed through her body. Hatred burned in her gut for what they’d done to Gaetan. She wouldn’t be the cause of more pain.
“Melissa,” she spat. “My name is Melissa.”
“Ah, much better. My name is Ram. Now we are acquainted.” Ram placed his index finger next to his mouth and looked at the ceiling. “So, Melissa, about that shield of yours. I could do so much with it.”
Melissa flinched at the mention of her gift. She tried to power her energy, but there wasn’t even a spark. She held Ram’s gaze and struggled to control her shaking knees.
“It’s too bad I need you alive to get your blood. Lemurians disintegrate so quickly once dead that I can’t get it fast enough.” Ram tsked. “So, I’ll give you a chance to cooperate.”
“I won’t give my shield to you.” Melissa curled her hands into fists. He wanted her magical power, but no way would she give her special skill to the enemy.
Ram’s smile turned into a grimace, and his easygoing demeanor evaporated. He became rigid, his muscles bunching in his arms and legs. His elongated tongue whipped in and out of his mouth, the dangerous spur at the tip coming close to her face.
She recoiled, and her head struck the hard cement wall. Stars swam in her vision, but she refused to succumb to the darkness. Dread snaked its way into her heart.
“As you wish.” Ram snapped his fingers.
One of his brood entered the room carrying a cast iron bucket. The top of a branding iron extended over the lip. A towel wrapped around the end protected the handle from the heat within the kettle. The smell of smoldering coal joined with the odors of sweat and fear.
Melissa’s pulse quickened. She swallowed, but nothing went down. Her throat was too parched.
Ram grabbed the branding iron.
Adrenaline rushed through her body. “Wh-what is that for?”
“It’s your incentive.”
“No, don’t, not her. Take me.” Gaetan’s voice, weak and rough, carried across the room.
Melissa glanced at him. They’d just met, but his willingness to protect her spoke volumes about his character.
Ram snapped to attention. “Oh, I intend to get what I need from you, Stiyaha. That abnormal strength of yours will be mine, just not yet. I will take her gift first.”
Ram turned his focus back to Melissa. “I want your shield, and I want it now.”
He closed the distance, the branding iron’s heat radiating in the space between them. Her legs shook, making the shackles at her ankles clank together like an eerie wind chime. Her fear ratcheted up another level, sending a shiver of terror over her shoulders. She hated him all the more.
“Are you willing to bargain? Or are you going to be stubborn?” Ram leaned in, and his breath reeked of liquor. “I know you’re Lemurian, but you’re not Stiyaha. You must not be from around here. Tell me what you are,” he purred, as he drew the back of a finger down the side of her face.
She flinched at his touch, but she wouldn’t let him intimidate her. Making eye contact with her enemy, she held her ground.
“If you lead me to others like you, I’ll let you walk away, unscathed,” he said.
She bared her fangs. “I would never sell out my kind. I will fight you every step of the way.”
“Well, now, that’s what I thought you’d say.” His eyes gleamed with delight, and his mouth curved into a grin. “Let’s play, shall we?”
Chapter Two
A bead of sweat trickled down Noeh’s face. He pushed his way through the wet ferns and moss-covered underbrush, careful not to step on any twigs that would give away his location. A breeze blew through the large fir trees, and the branches whispered in the night air. He looked up at the giant sentinels. Where are you, Gaetan?
The Keep’s Haelen, their eldest healer, hadn’t returned last night from collecting medicinal herbs. Unable to go after his best friend during the day when the sun’s rays would kill him in minutes, he wondered what had become of his ally. The painful wait left Noeh on edge. Gaetan missing meant he’d been captured by the Gossum or was dead. A kernel of dread formed in Noeh’s stomach, and he balled his hand into a fist.
His warriors hid behind the tall trees. Dressed in dark pants, rugged vests, and leather boots, the Stiyaha blended into the shadows. Protective bands covered their forearms to deflect the sting of a Gossum’s tongue. Short swords gripped by steady hands flashed in the moonlight, ready for battle. The search party moved through the forest, eager to find any trace of their comrade.
“Craya!” Saar, Noeh’s Commander of Arms, held Gaetan’s cane—or what was left of it. The broken wood dangled from his grasp, and he handed it to Noeh.
Noeh clasped Gaetan’s walking stick. Hi
s arm shook from his need for vengeance, and he crushed the wood in his palm. Gaetan suffered from an injury sustained as a child and couldn’t walk well without his cane. To find his staff here, now, wasn’t a good sign.
Noeh’s inner beast roared and pushed against his ironclad control. He hungered to rip out the throat of every Gossum he could find, tear them to shreds, and watch as their bodies liquefied at his feet. Unwilling to let the beast within roam free, he called on the self-control he’d honed over the centuries and held his emotions in check.
Saar moved closer and lowered his voice. “Do you think he’s still alive?”
“He has to be,” Noeh said. “Keep looking.”
They followed a path through the trees until they came to a small clearing. At the end of the meadow stood an old derelict building—the asylum. Noeh inhaled. The bitter tang of astringent raced down the back of his throat. Gossum. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and his muscles tensed under his tunic.
The old structure had an aura of evil left over from its days as a human mental institution. Built in the backcountry of the Pacific Northwest to keep the insane far away from civilization, the condemned building was an ideal hiding place. Although he knew the building was here, he’d avoided the edifice and anything to do with humans.
“They’re in there.” Saar crouched against a giant fir tree.
“Agreed. Gossum stench is hard to miss.” Noeh studied the abandoned building and searched for movement in the smashed-out windows and broken doors. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. The weapon vibrated at his touch. He stroked the handle in anticipation.
“I’ll scout the perimeter. See where they get in.” In the filtered moonlight, Saar’s scowl accentuated the scar that marred his cheek and upper lip. The mark was a badge of honor, one he used to intimidate the enemy.
Noeh nodded to his military leader. “We await your assessment.”
Saar disappeared into the night.
Noeh’s sensitive ears picked up the slightest sounds, even the normally silent flutter of an owl’s wings in a nearby fir tree. A mouse quivered under the azalea bush at his feet. His left ear itched inside. He rubbed at the nub protecting his inner ear, sating the irritation for the moment.
Crouched behind large boulders and trees, Noeh’s well-hidden soldiers stood battle ready. Five hundred forty-two. The small number was all that remained of his kind, the Stiyaha, a great warrior race of Lemurians. A lump formed in his throat. How many more could they lose before they perished?
He silently swore against the gods responsible for this war. They played their games with his beloved race, using his kind for their own selfish desires—to bring Earth’s water back to Lemuria. Several millennia of war and devastation had torn them apart, leaving legacies and legends of their great past. He clenched his jaw and focused his rage on the upcoming battle.
Revenge against the Gossum was his constant mantra. They’d taken his parents from him when he was a mid-youth, forcing him to become a child king. As leader of his kind, he’d done everything expected of him. Everything except take a queen. There was no point, not anymore.
Over five hundred years ago, the Gossum created a virus that had wiped out well over half of the Stiyaha population and left the remaining females barren. Luckily for the humans, they weren’t affected. Now, every dead Gossum was a small retribution for the lives lost during the great scourge, including his parents. Even though he longed for the type of relationship his parents once shared, he wouldn’t lash himself to a female when he couldn’t commit his heart. His chest ached, the familiar pain as strong as ever.
Noeh ran his hand through his hair. Hold on, Gaetan. We’ll get you out of this.
Gaetan had always been there for him. His friend supported him during the good times before the great scourge and also through the never-ending battles with the Gossum. He’d mentored Noeh when he was young. Gaetan’s constant litany and tutelage was forever engrained in his mind. Most of all, Gaetan had helped him through the tough years after the death of his parents. Noeh wouldn’t leave his friend to die by Gossum hands.
The full moon lit up the ground, casting grotesque shadows from the building onto the courtyard and the old fountain that graced its dilapidated entrance.
The marking above his right eye pulsed. He touched the raised skin, which pounded with each beat of his heart. The third line down, the one for justice, burned from his desire for retribution. The one for truth and the one for honor were quiet, at least for the moment. He traced the link from his forehead around his eye to his cheek. Years ago, the spiral markings for compassion and faith had been dark and full. The faint whorls were evidence of his slow downfall. He wasn’t surprised anymore at his own indifference.
Saar returned to Noeh’s side without a sound.
“Nine Gossum on the main floor. The best entry point—the opposite side of the building, next to the gravel road.”
Noeh grasped Saar’s arm. “Good work. Let’s rescue Gaetan.”
Chapter Three
Ram grabbed the tongs and pulled the beaker filled with the female’s blood off the burner. He swirled the contents and brought the vial to his nose. Steam rose from the mixture. A rich copper-like aroma filled his senses, and the smell left a pungent tang in his mouth. If the mixture were correct, he’d possess the shield, gaining an advantage against his enemy.
His God, Zedron, would be pleased. They’d be well on their way to defeating the Lemurians and winning the war. He delighted in the opportunity that would allow him to subjugate the humans and bring Earth’s precious water home to Lemuria. He’d enslave and torture them like his brother had tortured him. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
He riffled through the rusty scalpels and yellowed plastic tubes until he found a syringe. The barrel had a slight crack, but wouldn’t leak. As he gripped the beaker with his bare hand, pain registered in the back of his mind, but he didn’t care.
The smell of scorched flesh mixed with the copper coming from the solution as the contents filled the syringe. He ran his fingers over the needle’s tip like a lover, and his pulse quickened. A low groan escaped his lips.
He adjusted the cap that covered his head. Leaning against the worn, wooden table, he rolled up the sleeve of his torn and grimy sweatshirt. A bit of rope he’d found was a perfect way to stop the flow of blood in his arm.
“Curiosity killed the cat.” The anticipation for the power made him giddy.
He brought the syringe to his lips, giving the vial a gentle kiss. The liquid’s warmth penetrated through the plastic. He shivered. With the skill of an ex-heroin addict, he drove the needle into his engorged vein and depressed the plunger. When he released the rope, the fluid surged through his system. Seized by ecstasy, his heart raced. He closed his eyes, and his head fell back.
“But satisfaction brought the cat back.”
Like a jolt of electricity, power filled his body. His skin warmed. A flush raced up his neck, flaring the scales at the base of his scalp. He hadn’t felt this good in months, not since the last hit of heroin, his once favorite choice of human drugs.
He raised his hands into the air. “Shield!”
Nothing happened.
He looked at his hands. How did she use her power?
He tried again, applying more force. “Shield!”
A glow emitted from his fingertips, and a spark popped in the air. His chest tightened. He wanted to lash out, force the power to bend to his will. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He wiped the perspiration away with the back of his hand.
Brow furrowed, he focused the current into a pinpoint. This time, a shimmery energy engulfed him. He managed to maintain the shield for several seconds before the force blinked out. His lip curved at the corner into a satisfied grin.
He would master this. When I do, Noeh, I’m coming for you.
A loud crash rattled overhead, as if something heavy fell to the floor. Pounding feet shook the wooden slats in the
dilapidated ceiling. Muffled grunts and groans filtered through the holes. Dust wafted into the air. He sneezed.
“Damn it.”
He ran out of the room and headed straight for the prisoners. A young Gossum stood guard in the hallway outside the captives’ cell.
“What’s happening?” The young sentry’s voice cracked. “Should I—”
“Stay here and protect the prisoners. Make sure nothing happens to them.”
“Yes. I—I will.” The guard’s fingers trembled, and he placed them behind his back.
Ram’s sensitive nose picked up the distinct smell of fear emanating from his soldier. “I’ll return when I can.” The lie rolled off his tongue. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about the guard. Weakness in his males was not something he tolerated.
He continued down the corridor and climbed the stairs with careful, measured steps, listening as the battle raged. His muscles shook, fueled by his excitement.
He peered around the corner. His heart pounded with anticipation when he saw who was there. Six large Stiyaha, including his nemesis, Noeh, were in the ancient dining hall. Long abandoned chairs flew through the air, and tables smashed as Stiyaha and Gossum fought in the enclosed space. A broken knob off the bottom of a chair skittered across the wooden floor like a child’s toy.
He smiled. They didn’t know he hid in the hallway.
A Stiyaha warrior battled one of Ram’s soldiers nearby. Engrossed in their own world, they were oblivious to him and the new power he possessed.
Perfect.
He leapt into the air and landed on a nearby table. The wood creaked and wobbled under his weight. He lashed out with his tongue. The jagged tip extended to its full length of six feet, ripping into the skin of his enemy. The warrior dropped his sword and cried out, his hand numbing from the poison. Ram bared his serrated teeth and launched himself.
Noeh pushed his injured comrade out of harm’s way. Ram tried to adjust his jump to avoid his enemy’s sword.
