Decimate

by D. Fischer

  This new life will always be a part of me and completely Aiden. We can’t run from it. We can’t hide. I can come to terms with that, but I’m not sure Aiden ever will. At least I look human. He couldn’t walk the streets at night without making humans scream in terror, and even then, he’d likely feed from them.

  I’m careful not to look at him though I’ve felt his eyes on me a few times since coming outside. My thoughts make me feel guilty, but I can’t stop the flow of them.

  Do I blame him for what he’s become? No. Do I wish it never happened? Yes. I often wonder how he feels about this new life – if it’s more of a burden than it is a blessing to be with me, to love me. If so, it would break my heart knowing he’s here only to love me and only to protect. Life should mean more than a bucket list of chores and responsibilities even if completed for those held most dear.

  “What are your plans today?” Bre asks Kat, interrupting my internal dampening of my unsavory mood.

  Her chest puffs and she blows out a breath. “I need to go visit my shop. I don’t remember the last time I stepped foot in it.”

  “If everyone is sparring, why aren’t you two?” I ask, genuinely curious.

  The two part in the middle and turn their torsos. I nervously sip, scolding my top lip, and quickly swallow. Using her pointer finger and thumb, Kat says, “Unpredictable dragon and mate to the trainer.”

  Mate to the trainer? “I see,” I say with a smirk.

  I look between them and across the lawn, studying Benjamin, her mate. He’s weaving in between each group, observing with a set of eyes as sharp as a blade and a focus as sturdy as the steel. The orders he barks are intimidating, quick and to the point lessons on posture and retracting, whatever that means. He takes his job seriously, and I immediately don’t envy Bre being mated to the work-a-holic. Perhaps he isn’t like that behind closed doors, or perhaps the weight of the world is crushing against him like it is all of us. I wonder how she convinced the man she doesn’t need the practice.

  “The perks?” I add, widening my smile, and she chuckles.

  At least, now I know why Ben wasn’t fighting on the Guardian Realm. He has a commanding air about him, almost as strong as the Alpha himself. Leaving him behind to guard the territory, to protect those left behind was a good choice even if that means separating two mates.

  Sometimes . . . Sometimes love isn’t the most important matter at hand. It can muck what’s most important – living to breathe another day. It’s humbling to witness, to put some sort of perspective on my own life problems.

  “What about you, Eliza? What are your plans for today?” Bre asks, eyeing my coffee again.

  Sighing, I cradle my mug protectively between two hands, chilled by the morning air, and rest the bottom rim against my bent knees. “Whatever Aiden has planned, I suppose,” I say and blow out a sigh.

  Without consciously doing so, I flick my gaze to the man – the demon – in question. He and Flint are sparring, neither having to teach the other anything. The entire fight is a silent jab, duck, or immediate kick. Aside from height and build, they’re a well-matched pair. Where one hits, the other blocks. Where one steps, the other counter-steps. They act like they’ve been sparring with one another for their whole lives.

  I study the set of Aiden’s face. The hard edge is gone around the eyes, and the feral glint in the molten orbs has eased. He does appear significantly lighter than yesterday, and I nod to it, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “And you?” I ask her, not paying attention to the answer.

  The rest of the day goes by in a blur as the pack discusses strategies and who will be in which group for a vampire hunting test run. Evo wants to see if we can work as a team, to see if this little mixed group is capable of taking down the nuisances who are attempting to wipe humans from the realm. I agree with him. The blood craving invaders are drawing too much attention, and the situation has moved from serious to critical. As a once doctor, it makes my skin crawl just thinking about how many injuries or illnesses are actually due to these parasites plaguing the realm. This afternoon holds more national news of the city’s plague, and at this point, we can’t sit around and wait any longer.

  By the time the sun dips over the trees and the evening meal is finished, my head is pounding from all of the chatter and swimming with detailed vampire knowledge I could seriously do without.

  When Dyson asks if we will be joining the hunt, Aiden quickly answers with ‘no,’ and no further explanation accompanies it. I can tell he has something else on his mind, some other chore or destination he says. I just hope it isn’t because he’s keeping me away from helping the shifters for my own safety. If that’s the case, I get it, but it still bugs me. I’m a Kheelan magnet with no skills in combat – magical or physical. However, I’ve grown to like the shifters and their animalistic yet civilized ways. Their temperament reminds me of a moody cat: sweet and lovely one minute and swiping claws the next. It’s entertaining, and yet they are still as close as they were before one of them bit the head off the other.

  I don’t want to leave the rest to them. I want to fight alongside them, to use what skills I know how to wield to do so.

  Dyson shrugs to Aiden’s answer and then announces that he and Kat aren’t going either. She has some business to take care of, and each wolf there understands the need to protect a budding relationship by not leaving the other to fend for themselves in a world out to get them. With Dyson’s certainty, they’ll be fine on their own, this makes me feel better about Aiden’s decline.

  Irene and Flint volunteer to go with them, which leaves the others to group accordingly while weighing each other’s strengths and weaknesses and matching them with the best pairs.

  As soon as the kitchen is cleaned of dirty plates and glass cups dripping with the remnants of milk, Kenna and Evo hand their freshly kissed toddler to Kelsey and Jeremy, who will be staying behind with the two pint-sized shifter children. Jeremy will patrol the land while Kelsey puts their child and Coleman down to sleep for the night.

  Jeremy says he’s worried the two of them aren’t enough to keep the territory safe, but Evo hands Aiden a cellphone. If they sniff trouble, Aiden is one call to a shimmer away. I have to admit, pride swells in my heart over that. Aiden seems to fit in well here, and the longer we stay, the more right it feels. I don’t think he’s felt like he’s somewhat belonged in a long time, and he doesn’t hesitate to accept the phone and nod to the alpha male.

  The groups leave shortly after that, striding out the front door and making their way to the cars parked in the garage. Kat and Dyson leave with them, heading for whatever destination they have in mind for their evening. I don’t ask where – nobody does. Kat’s expression is enough to tell everyone she doesn’t want to discuss it.

  Once the house is quiet, Aiden walks me out to the porch after I bid Kelsey goodbye with a peck on her cheek, promising we’ll be back soon. She is already fretting over us, pulling at her fingers and twirling the ends of her red hair. Though Kenna is the Alpha female of the pack, Kelsey is the mother hen. She fusses when she’s not scolding, and it’s often adorable.

  I inhale deeply as soon as I close the heavy front door behind me. Crickets chirp and owls hoot from the surrounding forest, punctuating a gentle breeze. They’re always here, that tidbit of nature, a constant stream in a world ready to be ripped apart.

  A howl rips through the night as Jeremy begins his patrol, reveling in the wild freedom beneath his paws. The moon is a tinge of orange tonight, casting deep shadows under the canopy of trees while light beams across the grass, a sea of aqua. I taste the freshly growing grass and the wet, dewy dirt that accompanies it upon inhale, and my stiff spine automatically relaxes. There’s something about this territory that makes me feel safe, something about the roughened liberty to be who I am.

  The stars are many, and as I turn to lean against a porch post to watch them, Aiden stuffs his hands in his borrowed jeans.

  “Where are we going?” I
ask him as the cricket’s song chirps a serenade and the stars dance to the tune.

  “To the ocean,” Aiden answers.

  I frown and look over my shoulder at him. “The ocean? Like on a date?”

  We’ve never been on a date, and the prospect of one terrifies me. We’ve only ever been through death and heartache, rising above just for a moment to breathe and then plummeting back into the chaos. What terrifies me is normalcy. Could the two of us truly enjoy a date without complications? It doesn’t seem possible, but still, I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

  The sides of his lips tilt in a smile, but it’s not a happy smile. It’s laced with guilt, a grimace almost like he should have thought of a date instead of whatever he has tucked away in his agenda. His agenda . . . Always carefully planned without a moment of relaxation. Always moving, always weighing the options of how best to keep me safe. And . . . how best to keep me from him.

  “No, not a date,” he mumbles and slides to the post across from mine, leaning his shoulder against it. The angle of his body makes his biceps bunch, his new black skin rippling as he adjusts to a more comfortable position.

  “Oh,” I whisper, disappointed despite the tendril of fear. “Then, what’s at the ocean?”

  “A pyren,” he says nonchalantly.

  The term is familiar to me from the teepee on the Guardian Realm, and I voice it aloud, trying the punching word on my own lips. His face lights for a moment at my struggle, at my awkwardness with attempting to say the name, at the scrunch of my face as I work through my brief knowledge of the supernatural to place it. Jaemes had been furious at even the mention of the creature.

  “Remember? A mermaid mixed with a siren and an octopus,” he says, the same humor swaying his voice. He’s sexy when he smiles like this though probably not to every Jane Doe, and I catch myself staring at those lips longer than I should. My cheeks flush scarlet when his smile fades as he stares back. A twitch of his lips. A smolder in his eye. A thud of my heart.

  I blink twice, clearing my suddenly foggy thoughts. My brain repeats the description Aiden said over and over again until I semi-grasp it. An image begins to form of this half fish, half mythical creature. Every version it conjures is a version I don’t want to greet, just as frightening and a contradiction to typical nature as the last. I shiver.

  “I remember you guys talking about it. Is it safe?”

  He only shrugs. “No.”

  “Well that’s comforting,” I mumble as I turn my head back toward the dark lawn once more. A few small puddles had formed in the gravel driveway, and they reflect the moon. “Are you going to tell me why we’re meeting one?”

  “Her name is Ferox.” He breaks his stare from the hole he was burning in my cheek. “She’s met you before, but you haven’t met her. She’s the one who helped me get you to the Guardian Realm.”

  I didn’t miss the fact that he didn’t actually answer my question. Maybe I don’t need to know. Maybe I have no right to know. But at the same time, it hurts. It’s just another secret between us, a wedge that holds us back from truly trusting the other like lovers should. It hurts that he can’t trust me with the full truth and that I can’t trust him to give it to me.

  “So, you know this pyren,” I state, waving my hand in the air, more to bat away the dull ache pushing against my emotions than to seem nonchalant to the statement itself.

  “I do,” he confirms. “And she’s not going to be happy about the summoning.”

  I look back at him again, sliding a pointed look in place. With a huff, he spends the next few minutes describing the pyren and her school of sisters. What to expect from her. How and where they can survive, which is pretty much every form of liquid. All the while, he grips the rail, waiting for me to pass a heavy judgement that could possibly buckle his knees.

  Despite my best efforts, goosebumps riddle my skin, and I vow then and there that I’ll never step foot onto a boat ever again. To know these things are lurking in the water . . . How many historical and unexplainable disasters should be blamed on them? “Let me get this straight. We’re going to summon a creature whose only job is to drown the people of this realm and drag them to the next to create new demons? Her kind are pets, slaves to Corbin, and she can’t be trusted when it comes to her actions.”

  He surveys the roof bridging over the porch, seemingly searching the shingles for the answers. Then he shrugs again. “Yeah. That’s one way of looking at it.”

  Well, all right then. In the weight of answers or whatever Aiden seeks her help with, it sounds to me like she’s more trouble than she’s worth, but who am I to judge.

  However, as I observe him actively avoiding my gaze, there’s one thing I’m certain of. If he and I are going to make this relationship work, our communication will need harnessing and honing. He keeps a lot from me, and the more I learn of his little tells, the more I realize how much he hides. Perhaps even half of who he truly is. At least he’s not keeping a distance from me like he first did when we arrived on the Earth Realm. Whatever Flint is helping him with – and that much is obvious; I’m not ignorant enough to be blind to it – seems to be working.

  I breathe deep, allowing the cooling air to fill my lungs, and then grasp Aiden’s hand that’s tucked around his middle. “Let’s go meet your friend then.”

  TEMBER

  GUARDIAN REALM

  The water roars below as I stand on the edge of a cliff, and the breeze sprays my face with droplets of the warm river as it licks up the rock. I look down the ledge as chatter batters my back from the inside of the Uji tribe leader’s home – a network of caves carved deep in the side of the cliff. Their voices bounce off of every jagged edge of rock and the smell of moss is still heavy in my nostrils though there isn’t any visible along the walls.

  I breathe in the fresher scent carried by the gale and use it to calm the knot in my stomach. I don’t feel safe here. I didn’t at the last tribe’s either, but this is worse. The Uji tribe is unforgiving, and they’re already angered because we took their captives not too long ago. I can feel their hatred as much as I can feel the mist tickling my cheeks.

  I look straight down then from side to side, gazing at the other openings along the cliff wall, and then note all of the points of entry and weaknesses in their defense. There aren’t many when a raging river separates their home from a walkable red sandy bank.

  Swimming across the water would be madness. If anyone survived the tide, they’d be even more lucky to have lived through the creatures lurking inside. An enemy could come from the top, but the slickness of each rock would lead to too great of a chance of falling, and the submerged rocks would be difficult to avoid.

  The breeze pushes against my feathers, and the urge to jump and spread my wings, to stretch each feather, is overwhelming. Thus far, we’ve only traveled by foot, stopping on several occasions to eat or allow the ever-curious dwarves to map the surroundings. I haven’t had the heart to tell Nally, the dwarf who’s acting as the leader of the three, that anyone who lives here already knows their way, either by sky or by landmark. We don’t need maps to travel it.

  There was only one dangerous situation we had encountered, a large feat in the woods of my realm to overcome. Our silent strides were striking me bored, and I almost welcomed the danger as a predator had caught us in her trap during her hunting time. It was a clever prowl, and we didn’t notice her until fangs and claws were hurling from the tops of a tree. Jaemes quickly shot an arrow, ever the swift pursuer, and mere moments later, she had thudded to the ground at my feet, dead. She made a nice evening meal shortly after, roasted tenderly by Jaemes over the flames of a small fire we built to chase away the damp humidity curling around our exposed skin. The change of weather didn’t bother Jaemes nor me as much as it did the dwarves. They’re not used to the harsh climates of the Guardian Realm meant to push each warrior, so they may survive easily on any realm.

  An elf stands at the ledge of his own cave, drawing my attention. He doesn�
�t notice me, but like all elves and their keen senses, I’m sure he can feel my eyes on the top of his horned head. Each of the fishing elves have their own cave along this wall, some higher up than the others, some so close to the water they could reach out and touch the tide. To get to each home, one simply has to walk the rocky ledge only fit for one traveler behind the other. With the dwarves’ short and bulky build, it was difficult to get them up here without them plummeting to the river.

  Wings or not, I’d never traveled here. I’ve never had a wish to. The calimates and other creatures, who continue to consume each other, swim below, visible in the clear water, just waiting for someone to fall in. It’s a barbaric way of life, to use the deadly serpents to keep them safe though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Out of each of the tribes, the Uji tribe is the most . . . raw in their approach to life. Cunning, too. Even in their approach with each other. I did, after all, pass several caves where many were having sex. They didn’t bother hiding it either. I had simply blinked, bristled, and kept moving.

  I push my damp hair from my face, listening to Ica, the leader, mumbling aloud as he chooses his spear of choice along the cave wall of many. For all to see, he and Jaemes’s match will happen on the river, on the flat raft meant to row only a small handful of elves. It was hauled to the center and anchored down before I walked to the ledge. They weighted the slab of wood by tethering jagged and heavy rocks to ropes and dropped them in the water. The calimates have since swarmed around it, waiting for a source of food to fall in.

  Down the way, a larger boat is tethered to the side of the cliff along with a few smaller ones. They bob in each wave, push in each breeze, and strain the thick ropes keeping them there. As one crashes into the side of the wall, Jaemes moves to stand beside me, leaving Sandy where he silently observes with his cloudy, milky eyes in the dimness of the cave.

  “I don’t like this one bit,” I mumble to Jaemes who leans against the other end of the cave’s opening. “This is playing a bit too much with death for my liking.” That’s saying a lot coming from me.