“Is that you, Garth?”
The creature didn’t seem so fearsome any more. It lay panting, its eyes closed. I edged closer. Blood oozed from a deep wound in its throat, bright red. Too much blood.
“Garth? Are you all right?”
Maybe if I applied pressure to the wound … I reached out and laid a nervous hand on the fur of its shoulder. No reaction. Well, at least it was in no shape to attack me.
I needed something to make a pad.
What are you doing, fool? Forget the wolf. Where’s the dragon?
I staggered to my feet, wildly looking around. I had to stop the bleeding. What did I care what Valeria was doing?
But the channel stone …
I shuddered and closed my eyes, aching with need. Where was it? I reached out, strained with all my senses, but I couldn’t feel it at all. It must be far away.
My eyes popped open again at a sound at my feet. The black wolf lay still as stone, no longer panting.
“Garth!” I dropped to my knees. The fur beneath my hands began to retract, the dark body stretching and sliding.
But that wasn’t the sound I’d heard. I whirled just in time to avoid a kick to the head from a very naked, very pissed-off man.
It was my old friend Micah, lips curled back in a savage snarl. The brindled wolf was gone. Damn. Looked like my taekwondo skills were going to be put to the test after all.
I lurched to my feet and aimed a kick at his knee. High kicks look flashy but if you bust someone’s knee cap the fight’s over. Our teacher had drilled into us that your first choice when faced with a fight is always to run. Next best thing is to disable your opponent straight away, before they get a chance to hurt you. Especially if that opponent is a werewolf with supernatural healing abilities, I suppose, though somehow that had never come up in class.
Micah sidestepped my kick and lunged in with a punch that would have knocked me out cold if I hadn’t managed to dodge it. The water tank rang with the blow. I swear his fist left a dent.
I danced around, trying to keep between him and Garth, hands up ready to protect myself. At least he didn’t have a weapon. Apart from supernatural speed and strength, that is. I coughed, desperate for a breath of air that wasn’t full of smoke. I needed Ben, or Luce—even Adam would do—but I didn’t dare take my eyes off him to look for help. And calling out would make no difference, with the barn on fire at my back. No one would hear me over the roar of the flames.
He threw a punch that I managed to block, but the contact sent a shock of agony all the way down to my toes. I got one of my own in, driving my fist into his solar plexus. That got a satisfying grunt out of him but didn’t slow him down.
My arm throbbing from the block, I circled warily, weaving away from his blows. He was way too strong for me. Another block like that and I wouldn’t be able to use my arm at all.
He lashed out again, catching my jaw as I danced back, not fast enough this time. Pain exploded through my face and down into my neck. I snapped out another kick, then dodged back.
Too far. My foot caught on something and I went down heavily. Micah’s leering face loomed over me as I lay there, too winded to get up.
“Say goodnight, sweetheart.”
My groping hand found what I’d tripped on. As he closed in I swung the shovel with all the strength I had left. It made a most satisfying thunk as it connected with his ribs.
I scrambled up as a line of blood appeared across his ribcage. There was murder in his eyes, but I felt no fear, only a sudden towering rage. How dare this dog lay his filthy paws on me!
Garth sat up, then struggled to his feet, barely able to stand. “Get out of the way. I can … take him.”
I ignored him. Brandishing my shovel, I advanced on Micah. “Get away from me, you dog. You dare raise a hand to me? You should be down on your knees begging forgiveness.”
He met my gaze and I caught him, pinned him with my glare. His fury melted away, replaced with horror at his temerity.
Slowly he sank down on his knees, head bowed in contrition. “Forgive me, mistress.”
In one tiny corner of my mind, part of me watched in astonishment. Whoa, what’s happening? Garth staggered against the water tank, glancing between us with a look of confusion.
I ignored them both, casting around to see what was happening. The water tanks blocked my view of the burning house, where Valeria had gone, but I could see Jason. That would do. He would tell me where to find my channel stone.
“Stay here,” I ordered Micah. “See that this one comes to no harm.”
Protectiveness was a new feeling. I shouldn’t care what happened to a mere wolf, but the human’s emotions had infected me, leaching across the barrier between us. My arm throbbed from the blows she’d taken to save him. I suppose it made sense to preserve a valuable asset.
I marched off, ignoring the aches of my body and the chaos around me. Jason struggled with the leshy Adam, who’d found a gun somewhere. They were locked together, fighting for control of the weapon. Inch by inch, Jason forced the leshy’s straining arm around till the gun pointed back at the green face.
The gun boomed and the leshy fell. Jason looked up, chest heaving, and saw me for the first time. His jaw dropped, a look of horror in his eyes. “Kate? You’re … you’re glowing!”
“Where is my channel stone, you filthy lizard?”
He jumped, then glanced around almost guiltily. No one listened, but still he lowered his voice to a whisper. His face was white with shock. “Leandra?”
“Give it to me, traitor, and I’ll make your death an easy one.”
He stared, dumbfounded. Impatient, I slapped his face, sending him staggering. I was not accustomed to waiting for answers.
His face darkened. “How the hell did you get in there, you toxic bitch? Kate, of all people! Are you trying to destroy me?”
He slapped me back. As I stared in shock—he dared assault me so openly?—he retrieved the dead leshy’s gun and levelled it at me.
“How many times do I have to kill you?”
Micah leapt between us in a blur of pale flesh. He must have circled around behind Jason. The gun went off as they struggled for possession in a replay of the previous tussle between dragon and leshy, but this time werewolf muscles came up triumphant. Jason raised his hands as Micah pointed the gun at him.
“Flee, mistress!”
“Yes, flee, Leandra, before your compulsion dissipates and he starts shooting you.”
“Not without my channel stone. Where is it?”
He shook his head, mocking. “I don’t have it. Can’t you tell?”
Of course I could. Jason smirked, careless of the gun levelled at him. Behind him the smoke swirled like a storm front about to break.
“Have you seen it?” I asked the werewolf. “A black stone with silver tracery? It’s mine. This traitor stole it from me.”
Micah frowned, though he never took his eyes from Jason. “Nada had something, about the size of a marble. I didn’t get a good enough look to see what colour it was.”
Nada. My lip curled. Always meddling in the affairs of her betters. Griffin upstart. “Where is Nada now?”
“Be silent, Micah!” Jason snarled. “To me, men! Seth! Ciaran!”
Did he think me powerless? “Shoot him.”
Micah obeyed, putting a bullet through Jason’s shoulder. He fell to the ground, writhing and moaning, hand clutched to his shoulder as though he might bleed to death. Ridiculous.
“Put the next one through his heart.” Not that it would kill him. Only destroying the heart completely would do that—but the pain would be excruciating. “Where is Nada?”
For the first time it struck me as odd that she wasn’t here. The woman had been Valeria’s constant shadow since the proving had begun, jealously guarding her position at my sister’s right hand. If Valeria sneezed, Nada was there with a tissue. Yet she wasn’t present for the moment of her mistress’s greatest triumph. What could be more important
than that?
“She was hunting something for Valeria. Pretty excited about it too.” Micah nodded at Jason, panting on the ground, white face twisted in pain. “Something to do with him, I think. Said she was going back to school.”
Jason twitched at that.
“What? What does that mean?” I kicked him, feeling a satisfying crunch of ribs. “What school? Does she have the channel stone? Tell me!”
Jason groaned and spat blood on the ground. He looked up at me, his gaze intent. “Katie, if you’re in there, you’ve got to stop her.”
Garth appeared out of the smoke, giving Micah a wary berth. He clutched at his abdomen as if holding himself together. “Come on, Kate, what are you doing?”
I looked wildly from one to the other, torn in ways I couldn’t understand. Stop who? What was going on?
“This guy’s got a gun,” Garth persisted. “How long before whatever you did to him wears off? Valeria could be back any time—let’s get the hell out of here.”
Jason’s blue eyes never left my face, beseeching. “Go to King’s, Katie. Hurry.”
God, I felt so dizzy. My head spun. Must be the heat. I wiped my sweaty face with a shaky hand. It came away smeared with ash and grime. He hadn’t called me Katie in years.
Through the haze I saw two men running towards us. Garth’s voice became more insistent. “Kate, come on!”
That was my name, wasn’t it? The other had gone, and I was alone in my head again. Garth tugged at my hand and I let him pull me away.
“Where’s Ben? And Luce?”
“Don’t worry about them. Luce will look after him.” He dragged me across the smoking ground, following the path of the fire front between trees whose crowns still burned. Blackened grass crunched beneath our feet. I could feel the heat of the ground through the soles of my shoes. “Let’s get you out of here.”
His big hand was rough with callouses but strangely comforting. Why was he being so nice to me? He just didn’t seem like Garth without the death threats. He threw me a quick glance as we ran. There was awe in it, mingled with a hefty dose of confusion and more than a dash of fear. Pretty much mirrored my own feelings.
My memory had returned, rushing back in like a flood breaking through a dam wall. With it came other memories and a dark knowledge that was never mine, but belonged to the stranger riding shotgun in my head.
Jason had called me Katie. He’d called me Leandra.
And I was both.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Garth hustled me through a scene from hell, one hand clamped tight around my arm. We couldn’t see more than a few metres for the smoke that lay heavy over everything, swirling with sudden wind gusts and the movement of half-glimpsed figures around us. Most of the humans were clothed, though some were as bare as Garth, obviously having just shifted. Others still wore animal form, and some of the leshies were almost vegetable, in a nightmarish Day-of-the-Triffids way. My eyes streamed from the smoke’s sting as I staggered along beside my naked rescuer. My chest felt tight, squeezed by iron bands, making every breath a painful battle.
The inferno of the burning house lay ahead, a flaming beacon in the smothering grey world. The fire called to me. No, don’t look! Panic bubbled just below the surface. I am not a dragon. I am not a dragon.
Garth staggered as a bullet whined past.
“Are you hit?” I yelled.
He shook his head and veered left, his face a bloody mask of determination. He looked like hell—drenched in blood, one eye swollen shut—but he moved fast. Coughing and gasping for breath, it took all I had to keep up with him. I hardly knew where I was. Who I was. If he hadn’t been half dragging me I would have fallen.
A figure materialised out of the smoke and dark: Micah, gun in hand, also stark naked still. Part of me—a small, hysterical part—found that very funny. There were certainly drawbacks to the shifter lifestyle.
“Mistress! Let me help you.”
He cracked off a shot, and a man I hadn’t even seen dropped just behind us. There was no way I could tell which side he’d been on; I hoped Micah knew what he was doing.
“Stay close,” Garth growled. “Watch our backs.”
Micah nodded and fell back a step, gun at the ready.
“Slow down,” I begged between coughing fits. “Can’t … breathe.”
“Not much further.” He wasn’t having as much trouble, though the left side of his head was covered in blood and he was still hunched over in pain. Obviously shifters had more efficient physiques. Maybe it was worth having to buy new clothes all the time. “It’ll be clearer on the road.”
I doubted that, but I had no breath to argue. We circled around the burning house. Fire roared and leapt like a live thing among its twisted timbers. Searing heat forced us to keep our distance. No one could get close to that raging inferno and live.
Smoke billowed and swirled around us, hiding and then revealing nightmarish glimpses of struggling figures. My eyes stung, so dry it felt as if they’d been boiled in their sockets. I peered into the smoke, straining to see where we were going.
A sudden gust revealed a handful of figures between us and the house. They saw us at the same time.
“Run!” Micah shouted. “It’s Valeria!”
The smoke billowed again, hiding Valeria just as she opened her mouth to yell orders. We couldn’t hear her over the roar of the fire. Micah planted his feet and fired, but Garth didn’t wait around to see the outcome.
He dragged me down the driveway between the burning trees, while flames crackled and spat overhead. Micah’s gun barked again and again, but we saw nothing of the struggle through the choking smoke. At least it hid us from our enemies.
We made it to the gates, past the smoking ruins of the gatehouse, and burst out on to the road. Heat seared my feet through my shoes. The rubber soles were half-melted. The fire had jumped the road and now roared through the bush on the other side, heading away from us toward a low sprawling property. I heard the shrill screams of terrified horses among the crackle of flames as we staggered down the road.
I cast a fearful glance over my shoulder. The smoke swirled, obscuring the burning house. I couldn’t see Valeria or Micah. Then, over the other noises, a regular thumping sounded above us. Not again! I cast around for somewhere to hide, but the bush burned on both sides of the road; there was nowhere to run but straight ahead. My heart pounded as we charged down the road hand in hand, Garth urging me on. I craned my neck, trying to spot the dragon in the sky. Lost in panic, it didn’t occur to me that the rhythmic beats were too close together to be a dragon’s wing beats.
“Chopper!” shouted Garth.
Sweet relief flooded through me. We stopped for a moment and I bent over, hands on knees, sobbing for breath. I could hear myself wheezing like an asthmatic as I dragged in smoky air, each breath stabbing painfully. A massive helicopter passed overhead, flying low through the smoke. It trailed a giant sack of water beneath it, which it released on the other side of the road. Water cascaded down, sending great clouds of steam hissing up through the blackened trees.
I looked back at Alicia’s burning house. Through gaps in the smoke I saw flames licking hungrily along bare framework, the skeleton of the house exposed. “They must think Alicia’s place is a lost cause.”
Garth’s insistent hand tugged me into motion again. “They’ll put everything into trying to save places that still have a chance. Just as well—nothing they’ve got would put out dragonfire. That’s gonna keep burning till there’s nothing left.”
A branch crashed down onto the road as we passed, so close the scorching heat beat against my back. My blistered arms stung and my eyes burned from the smoke. I bent low, trying to find cleaner air, but the smoke hung everywhere, and my lungs felt clogged with it. So much for the air being clearer on the road.
We were staggering like a pair of drunks by the time we passed beyond the immediate fire zone. Smoke still filled the air, but the trees either side of the road remained
green, untouched by flame. A little further on we came to the original roadblock, the big old gum Valeria’s men had felled, and there, on the other side of it, was our car. I scrambled over the rough tree trunk and collapsed gratefully against the white sedan.
“You got the keys?”
Garth just looked at me. Right. No clothes. Where exactly would he be hiding a key?
He bent down and pulled something from under the car, behind the back wheel. “We keep a spare back here.”
Good idea. “What holds it on? Magic?”
“Blu Tack.”
He grinned at the look on my face, the first real smile I’d ever seen on him. If it weren’t for all the blood and grime it might have been an improvement. As it was he just looked feral. His clothes still lay scattered where he’d dropped them; now he picked them up and got dressed. I sagged over the bonnet, coughing, while I waited for him to unlock the car.
“Let’s go.” He dropped heavily into the driver’s seat.
Holding a conversation was much easier now that he had the familiar Star Wars T-shirt and jeans back on. Not that he’d seemed to care, but casual nudity wasn’t my thing. Particularly blood-soaked nudity. Sadly the clothes didn’t do much for his overall appearance. He still looked awful. A gash on his cheek bled sluggishly, and one of his ears …
“What is that?”
“What?” A shiny pink knob of flesh sat where his left ear should be. He touched it, then shrugged. “Must have lost an ear in the fighting. It’ll grow back.”
“Really?” That pink growth was a new ear? “You can regenerate body parts?”
Panicked laughter welled up, and I forced it back down. There was nothing to laugh about. I had a dragon inside me.
“Neat trick, huh? Shifting fixes pretty much anything. Except for silver, of course.”
Twiceborn Page 18
