by Kim Faulks
“They need formula.”
The creak of a floorboard cut through the room. I turned and searched the shadows. “Are you listening to me? They need formula. They need…”
…their mother, that’s what they need.
Joslyn’s face filled my mind. Wide-eyed and terrified. Did she know she was dying? Did she know she was leaving them behind?
I’m all they have. The thought chilled me.
Someone moved, tearing me from the thought, and the groan of floorboards followed.
“It’s for your own good, Doctor. Don’t be afraid now.”
Metal jaws fell open in his hand as the undead crossed room. I wanted to look at the horror. But it was those eyes that gripped me—strange, lifeless, and trained on me. “No need to be afraid,” he whispered.
Water sloshed against the sides of the bottle as I dragged my hands to my chest. “What are you doing? Wait…wait. What are you doing?”
He bent and snatched my foot from the floor. The metal clasp snapped shut. Steel weighed me down.
“Hey, what are you doing? Get that off me.” I yanked my foot from his grasp. “I said, get that off me!”
His fingers were a blur. The grate of steel filled my ears before he straightened.
I gripped the chain and yanked. Links snapped taut to a ring bolted to the floor. “I did what you told me to do. Stop…please stop.”
Tears came as I fumbled for the clasp. Steel bit as I pulled and twisted. But the bolts were wedged in tight. “I did what you said. I did what you fucking said. Get them off me,” I yanked my gaze to the shadows. “Please, get these chains off me.”
“They’re for your own protection.”
His words made me sick. They all made me sick. “I did what you told me.”
I yanked until my elbows snapped straight. I yanked until the muscles along my spine screamed. I yanked until the metal edges cut into my skin, and still the babies screamed.
“Get me formula!” Spittle flew, hitting my arm and darkness crowded in.
But I no longer cared. My world became simple, these walls, this water, and these blankets. Snot turned cold against my lip as I reached for them with trembling hands. An eerie calm settled into the marrow of my bones.
“It’s okay,” I muttered, my voice strange and low.
It’s shock, you’re in shock.
Those words filtered into my mind and then left. All that mattered was the right here and now. Dark eyes glistened with fresh tears. I brushed a finger across her cheek and captured the drop.
Her scales felt cool under my fingers. I slid my hands along her sides and gripped under her arms. She was so light—made of scales, wings, and vicious thorns. Thorn, the name settled deep. “My little Thorn.”
And somehow the name just felt right. Her mouth opened, tiny teeth gnashed. The spikes around her head stood straight like the hackles on one pissed off dog. She was pure magic…magic. I brushed her ruffled thorns down with one hand and pinned down her tail with the other.
“We’re going to get through this, okay?” I eased her into the crook of my arm and raised the bottle to her lips “We’re going to drink the water and we’re going to survive.”
Rivulets ran over her lips, but this time she swallowed. Her throat worked, tasting, swallowing. “It’s not milk, I know. But it’s something.”
I tried again. A tiny trickle dripped from her mouth, but the rest stayed. She swallowed. I gave her more until her little belly bowed. It wasn’t food, but it would give her something.
“She needs food. If she doesn’t get something soon…”
…she’ll die.
But would she? She was a Dragon, did that mean she was immortal too?
I eased her down to the blanket and reached for my wolf. He was the quieter of the two, easily led by the devil in his sister’s eyes. It almost made me yearn for a brother of my own. My fingers sank into soft fur. I traced the line where white met black and found the hollow under his arms. “Your turn, little one.”
He kicked and fussed, digging his claws into the shredded half of my shirt, but he was less work, using his tongue to lap the drops from my fingers. He drank until he settled, and for a moment, I found a strange kind of peace. I drank the last of the bottle and set it to the side. “How long do we have to wait?”
No one answered. But as the sunlight dulled a growing sense of unease filled the cabin. The blond paced, finding every weak plank in the filthy floor. I watched him from the corner of my eye as the little ones quietened.
Thorn was the first to fall. Her breaths deepened, eyelids drooped. Her foot twitched, kicking her brother in the leg. He let out a cry of annoyance and then fell silent.
I yanked the remaining blankets to the ground, leaving three for the long night to come. My stomach groaned, and the sound carried. I cracked open a new bottle and took a swallow. These last two bottles had to last.
And they would last. I held onto that thread of hope and dropped to my side. The shadows grew, and still silence filled the space. I could feel them, watching, waiting. They were not my friends, nor were they my enemy.
See, I told her you’d come around. She didn’t believe me, said you’d fight to the death. Yours…not mine.
The words slipped into my head. Goosebumps raced along my skin, leaving me breathless. She? The name resounded. Who was she? I scanned my memory to the first contact with Doctor Powell and his so-called team.
I’d been hunted from the first moment I stepped off the plane. Hunted was never a nice word—actively chased, and for the most part I’d expected it. After all, this was what I signed up for wasn’t it? This was all part of the fame and the excitement of being a guest speaker at my first conference.
Jesus, how fucking naive. When I thought about the woman I’d once been, I wanted to laugh, and then slap her in the face. So stupid…so goddamn stupid.
The conference had been a success, as far as those things went. I knew stepping up to that podium with a packed room of men wearing bowties and women hiding in the corners that it could go either way.
But it was all about the science. We were all about the science, or that was what I thought.
I had to jump through so many damned hoops, releasing my research to the board before I even stepped onto the damn plane. But I did it, because I needed…
What did I need exactly?
The thought stilled me, leaving me trying to figure out the woman I once was…the one before all of this. I didn’t want the fame. I didn’t want the money, no, that wasn’t true. I did want the money.
I wanted as much money as I could get—but I wanted access to all these men and women more. I wanted them to see what we were capable of. I wanted them to see science from the other side.
We’d been studying the molecular structure of shifter DNA for centuries, but I knew we’d been doing it all wrong. We’d narrowed it down to species and piled them all together under the one banner: wolves, bears, cats.
We were searching for a link between shifter DNA repair and human diseases—well, I was. The others had their own agendas. But not me, not good ol’ Angel. I’d been so fucking focused on the mutation side of things I didn’t see them coming.
Powell reached out to me the moment I touched back down in Flinders City. I knew his name, and what he was. Gordon Powell was a well-known geneticist, and a shifter himself. He was all about the fame that man—well, he had been.
He came on to the scene at the end of my medical training and for a while, he was the Brad Pitt of biomedical research scientists. He was good looking, and rich…the perfect spokesman for the shifters.
Women flocked to him; he was just that kind of man. I think it was the illusion of danger that appealed to many—after all, they weren’t our kind, were they?
No, they were the outcasts, the lepers of our world. They lived in the forests because that's where we deemed they should live. Hate dropped like a rock in my belly. That kind of stuff can weigh you down.
A s
mack against my hand dragged me back into that darkening cabin. Her tail whipped across the nylon blanket to hit my skin. But the razored tuft didn’t cut this time. Instead, she left the limb against me, like she was searching for comfort.
Her breaths deepened. I listened more than saw, finding a rhythm that echoed in my own body. His face haunted me, and that goddamn slicked back sandy blond hair.
George Powell had been my own personal demon. He came to see me the same day I touched down in Flinders Airport, and if I was honest, I was elated and goddamn star struck.
Silken words spilled from his lips. He was putting together an elite team of researchers, and after listening to my conference I’d found myself at the top of his list.
But there’d been no list.
There’d been only me.
It’s just protocol, he whispered, brushing back a strand of hair from my face as I signed form after form. We were on the brink of a break through…a new breed of shifter.
That was the lie he spun. That was the lie I believed.
An ache flared in my chest, even now, it still hurt. By the time I realized what we were really doing I was covered in blood, with a young girl in my arms.
There was never any new breed…there were never any breakthroughs. They wanted a scapegoat, one to collect all the data, one to shut her mouth and do what she was told.
They wanted a good girl…they wanted someone who could disappear without a trace.
My eyes drifted closed. And now I had.
The creak of a floorboard dragged my eyes open. He neared, bending over to peer at me. “I’m still alive,” I whispered as darkness swept in.
My dreams were filled with fangs and claws. The sting was cruel, but the heartache worse. Cries dragged me toward the surface, long and sorrowful, filled with the kind of loss you never want to feel…the loss of a sister.
Meg’s face drifted to the surface of my thoughts. Today was a good day. Today I remembered her before the illness ravaged her little body.
Today I remembered her with eyes bright, still shining—forever ten years old.
I miss you, I whispered and opened my eyes to the endless dark. I wish you were here…
A tiny howl cut through the air, and then fell silent. I shoved my palm into the blanket and pushed. An ache tore along my side, finding those shallow parts of me already rubbed raw.
“Okay,” I murmured. “I know you're hungry.”
I reached for him, leaving sleeping Dragons alone, and pulled his warmth closer. He kicked and clawed the air, stilling as he found the warmth of my body. I reached for the water, unscrewing the top with one hand.
“We only have two bottles left. So take it easy, okay?”
I eased his head against my forearm and trickled the fluid into his mouth one slow drop at a time. He drank until he called out, and exhaustion found him once more, only this time I was too tired to lift him back to his sister. Instead, I curled my body around his little form and drifted asleep.
“The others are not coming, Gabriel. The Prince has been lost.”
I cracked open my eyes, finding their silhouettes in the dark.
“We wait,” the other answered. “For as long as it takes.”
Shadows blurred as one turned his head. I shut my eyes, keeping my breaths slow and even. But inside my heart was hammering, drowning out their words…until…
“And what of them?”
My breath stilled. My chest thundered.
“They stay with us,” Gabriel answered. “She won’t come, and neither will the wolves…they’ll never find us.”
“And if…”
“Yes?” Gabriel growled and the sound of tearing cloth followed. “If? If what? If the Prince is dead? Say it…say it!”
A chill cut with his words, slicing open the air, and something slithered out—something akin to fear and stained with desperation.
But there was no reply…no one dared say the words. Heat flared in the center of my chest. My breath left with a shudder and a hiss. This Prince was their leader, of that I was sure, but the Prince has been lost?
What the Hell did that mean?
A cold nose nudged the underside of my arm. The little wolf dug deeper, shoving his face into the hollow of my pit and quietened.
The Prince has been lost…I carried those words with me, falling into a dreamless sleep.
Sunlight woke me, breaking through the walls to pierce my eyes. I blinked, rolled onto something warm and soft.
Jesus, I jerked away and stared at the blankets above my head. The inky bundle was quiet and still. I stared at her scales as yesterday came rushing back with a roar.
Joslyn, the babies…the Vampire… And then the car.
Blood—I closed my eyes—so much blood.
A wave of helplessness washed over me, and for a second I was drowning. The thready sound of my pulse filled my ears. Air left my lungs, and for a second—for a sweet second none returned. White sparks collided in my eyes. My hold on reality slipped. Inside my head I floated, tethered to nothing more than a vision of Joslyn’s face—a face that reminded me of my sister.
A hiss escaped my lips. My breath was a punch to my chest, knocking air into my lungs. I inhaled as something sharp traced my knuckles, riding the edge of the bone all the way to the nail and left—not hard enough to hurt—but to shock.
A tiny black claw on the tip of a wing.
The little Dragon blinked and stared at me. Thorn, the name I gave her surfaced as the touch came again. The piercing tip dragged along my skin, sending my senses ablaze and for a second, I didn’t understand—until she settled those big brown eyes on me.
It’s a caress… I blinked into the blur. She’s caressing my hand.
Reflex pushed my hand closer. Her nail dug deep until she pulled away just a little. She was testing, bonding…she was bonding with me.
A purr echoed from her lips low, needing, reaching into the cavern in my chest. I moved closer, desperate for the connection. “I’m sorry, Joslyn. I’m so very sorry. This moment should be yours.”
An ache flared in the back of my throat as I dropped one hand to the soft fur beside me and skimmed her slick scales with my other. I was not their mother…
I was not their mother.
Thorn’s call resounded as the touch came once more. The pointed talon already so sharp it could pierce my flesh.
“Thank you,” I whispered, no longer feeling so…
The Prince has been lost…
I lifted my head and scanned the cabin. Darkness clung to the corners, but it was softer, revealing thick cobwebs, cracked beams—and nothing else.
The Vampires were gone.
A chain rattled as I spun and searched the room. The manacle rubbed, weighing down my foot. An ache flared in my abdomen. I winced and searched for a bucket, anything. “Hey. Hey!”
The crunch of dried brush echoed from outside. One of them stepped through the door and peered through the gloom.
“I need this thing off me,” I snapped and yanked the chain. “Unless you’d like me to relieve myself all over this damn floor.”
His eyes widened, and scanned the room.
Anger welled, nailing this pissed off feeling to the wall. “What the Hell are you looking for? Get this fucking chain off me now!”
“I’m not supposed to…” He stuttered so fucking perfect.
“I’m not supposed to…” I mimicked and dragged myself off the floor. I reached for my waist and fumbled with the button on my slacks. “Then be prepared for a stench that will linger for days.”
“Wait.” He rushed forward. “Just…wait.”
He dropped to the floor at my feet and fumbled with the chain. The links fell away, but the shackle remained.
“I want that off too,” I demanded, holding his gaze as he stood and took a step backwards.
“We’ll be watching,” he growled and nodded toward the open door.
I dropped to my knees and reached for the babies, until he clucked h
is tongue, stilling my hands.
“The babies stay here, Doctor. Don't worry; I’ll take good care of them.”
I followed the perfect crease of his trousers, then the faint blood spatters on his shirt, meeting his eyes.
There was no calling his bluff. “I…” The stilted word slipped free before I pushed off the ground.
I glanced to the open door and an ache flared. A yelp slipped from Thorn. Her wing beat against the blanket and the panicked sound urged me to hurry.
I shoved upwards and stumbled for the open door. The glare was blinding, forcing my hand up to shield my eyes. Inside the cabin, the yelp turned to a cry. She needed me… I fumbled for the clasp on my slacks and searched for a tree. Her howl of desperation sped my pulse.
She needed me…
I eased my pants to my knees and squatted. Watching me…my ass. They could watch me all they wanted to. The steady stream hit the ground at my feet. I was chained like a goddamn criminal, forced to survive on water alone—but it was nothing compared to the loss of a mother—I turned to stare at the cabin, listening to her screams—and it was nothing compared to the loss of a child.
I hurried, yanking up my slacks and made for the door, until the sound of scattering leaves stilled me. A scurry came from farther down to my right, quick and fast, movement darted to a tree. I caught a blur of brown, before something much bigger struck.
The crunch of bones was sickening. The Vampire stood out in the open, farther down the rise with the rabbit in his hands. The animal was dead, or close to dying. Its back foot twitched, still running as the undead lifted the body to his mouth and bit.
There was no blood, not even a drop. Fangs sank into the soft fur and the sickening squelch of tearing flesh followed. My stomach twisted and snarled with the sight. I swallowed revulsion and made for the open door.
We were all animals out here—every last one of us.
The shackle knocked against my shin. Inside gave no more comfort, although the chill in the air had dulled. I shivered, yanked the door closed and headed for the torturous sounds.
