by Chant, Zoe
“I can try to shift and fly us out of here,” Hector muttered.
“Aren’t you injured?” Myrtle asked, thinking of the way Cecelia had slammed Hector into the wall. That had to have done some damage, shifter or not.
Hector grimaced, holding his side. “Just a couple of broken ribs, but I don’t have time to worry about that now. We need to –”
He stumbled before he could finish the sentence, his knees giving way beneath him.
“Hector!” Myrtle caught him before he could fall, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, still holding Ruby in her other arm. “Hector, I don’t think –”
“It’s the only way,” Hector said, his teeth gritted. “Can’t go back through the building. Can’t –” He groaned suddenly, holding his side. “Fuck that hurts.”
Myrtle tightened her arm around him as they made their slow way across the expansive patio. Wind whipped at her hair, chilling her skin. The sun might have been blazing hot, but this high up, the wind was cruel and cutting.
“Hector, you can’t even walk,” Myrtle murmured, even as her fear grew frantic within her. “How can you –”
“I’m going to protect you, Myrtle,” Hector said, vehement and determined. “You and Ruby both. I have enough strength for that. I can get you to the ground – get you to safety.”
“And what about you?” Myrtle asked. “How will you –”
Her words were cut off by a sound behind them. Myrtle didn’t need to turn around to know who it was – the sound had been a terrifying, reptilian hiss of fury, followed by the horrific screech of metal scraping and bending as something huge forced its way through the doorframe.
Despite the fact she knew exactly what she’d see, Myrtle turned her head, her heartbeat hammering in her ears.
Cecelia.
The massive snake she had become was slithering out onto the patio, her jet-black scales shining in the sun. Her black tongue flickered in and out of her mouth, beady eyes fixed on them.
“Hector…” Myrtle could hear the shake in her own voice as she backed away, watching the doorframe crumple like paper as Cecelia advanced through it. Her body was a long, deadly column of muscle, designed for just one thing: killing.
Ruby struggled against Myrtle’s hold, and Myrtle could feel her tiny heart hammering against her palm.
“It’s okay, Ruby, it’s okay,” she whispered, though Ruby had to know that wasn’t even remotely true. They were trapped. Even if they somehow managed to get past Cecelia’s uncoiling form and make it back down in the building, Myrtle didn’t know how many men were in there still looking for them. They were three-quarters of the way up an eighty-story building, with no way down except to jump.
Ruby can fly.
Myrtle swallowed as the thought ran through her head. That was true, but so far, she’d only flown short distances. She was still learning how to control her wings, and Myrtle wasn’t sure if she’d be strong enough to deal with the winds that buffeted them. But just at this moment, she wasn’t sure what other choice she had.
“Ruby might make it,” Myrtle said, swallowing, her eyes never leaving Cecelia as she slithered toward them, tongue flickering. “I could – I could –”
She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She could set Ruby down on the edge of the building and hope she knew what to do, but the choice seemed impossible. What if she couldn’t fly well enough yet? What if – what if –
She couldn’t even think it.
But if she didn’t, then Ruby would be taken away by Cecelia and her men, to be raised as their tool for evil. She’d never have a life of her own – and if she refused to do what they wanted, who knew what they’d do to her?
Impossible. Both choices are impossible.
Cecelia finally finished emerging onto the patio, the full length of her enormous body curved out in front of them. She’d managed to get rid of the bar Hector had shoved in her mouth, but Myrtle could see blood dripping down from her scaly lips. She darted her head, opening her mouth, her cruel fangs slipping forward.
“Did you really think you could get away?” Cecelia hissed, her words long and sibilant. Myrtle had no idea how a snake could talk, but she had to admit that it was probably one of the less weird things she’d seen recently.
Actually, no, scratch that. It’s definitely the weirdest thing I’ve seen over the past two days.
“Even if you’d managed to escape, we would have hunted you down,” Cecelia rasped out. “You would never be safe again. Not from me. Our reach spans the world – there is nowhere you can hide.”
Myrtle trembled, her teeth chattering. The malevolence in Cecelia’s voice was compelling – not for a second did Myrtle doubt she was telling the truth. Even if she did manage to get Ruby off the roof, and even if Ruby could fly her way to safety, how long would that safety last? No matter how quickly she’d developed in the past couple of days, she was still just a baby. How could she defend herself from these people? How could she look after herself, all alone?
Desperately, Myrtle looked around them, looking for something they could use to defend themselves. There was nothing obvious in sight, but there was a small maintenance shed nestled by the wall of the building, almost hidden behind the foliage of the roof garden.
If there’s workman’s tools in there, something we could use as a weapon…
Myrtle glanced at Hector. He gave her the briefest of nods, which she hoped meant that he’d noticed the same thing. It wasn’t much, but it was, at least, a chance.
In the next moment, Myrtle felt herself being pushed and pulled – and realized that Hector had moved her so that his body was between her and Cecelia, shielding her.
“Try it, Cecelia,” Hector growled. “If you want them, you’ll have to go through me first.”
There was a short silence, and then Myrtle heard a long, strange, choking sound that chilled her to her very bones. It was a long moment before she realized what it was: Cecelia was laughing.
“You?” she asked, her tongue flicking in amusement. “One lone shifter who can barely stand? What can you possibly hope to do? You can’t shift, you can’t heal. How exactly do you expect to win this fight?”
Cecelia’s voice held a terrifyingly malevolent amusement.
Myrtle’s gut churned with anger and fear. How could anyone be this callous?
I will not let this… this thing have Ruby, Myrtle vowed. No matter what it took, she wouldn’t allow it.
And she knew Hector felt exactly the same way.
“When I push you, run as fast as you can into the garden and keep your head down,” Hector said, his voice barely above a whisper. Myrtle swallowed, but didn’t otherwise react.
Her eyes darted to the rooftop garden. The shrubbery was fairly dense, and there were a few large, frondy ferns and small, squat palms that lined the edge of the balcony. It didn’t offer a lot of cover, but it was better than nothing.
Cecelia had finished laughing, it seemed, and was now staring at them, her eyes flickering back and forth as she apparently made up her mind which one of them to go for first.
Myrtle felt Hector tense, his hand tightening on her arm. And then –
“Go.”
Clutching Ruby against her chest, Myrtle ran.
Chapter 12
Hector wanted to look behind him to check if Myrtle had made it into the garden, but right now, he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off Cecelia even for a moment. He ran in the opposite direction to Myrtle, hoping that even the split second of indecision it would create in Cecelia’s mind would be enough for him to use.
Pain seared through him – whatever junk Cecelia had given him back inside had done its job with a terrifying effectiveness. He couldn’t feel the usual itch of his swift healing knitting his bones together again, and when he called out to his griffin, he got no response whatsoever.
The thought that his griffin might be gone for good sent a chill through his gut, but he couldn’t let himself think like that right now. Without hi
s griffin and without his fast shifter healing, he’d need every ounce of concentration just to keep Cecelia from making mincemeat out of him in five seconds flat.
The only advantage he had right now was that he was fighting for his mate – and for Ruby.
And I will never let anything happen to either of them.
He’d already managed to injure Cecelia when he’d jammed the pole from the door into her mouth, but with her shifter healing that wouldn’t slow her down for long.
I have to find something else. Something I can use as a weapon.
He heard Cecelia’s frustrated hiss, heard her scales sliding against the tiles of the patio –
Hector ducked over into a roll an instant before her head shot over the space where he’d just been. He knew she was a titanoboa, and therefore not venomous, but boas in their natural habitat were stealth hunters: they dropped on animals from above without warning, wrapping them in their coils and constricting them before they had a chance to fight back.
Since they were very much aware of Cecelia’s presence here on the roof, Hector supposed she was going to try striking with her fangs instead – boas might not have any venom, but their bites could still be painful, their fangs long and sharp.
And a boa of this size…
Well, her fangs would likely go right through him, dealing him a wound that would be dangerous even with his shifter healing – and without it, completely deadly.
Hector gritted his teeth as his injured shoulder slammed painfully into the patio tiles. He was in pain, his muscles slow to obey him, but he knew the only thing he could do was try to keep Cecelia focused on him. All he needed was something he could fight back against her with.
Or, if I can keep her distracted, maybe Myrtle and Ruby would have a chance to escape…
Not that that had gone so well last time he’d tried it, but if things became hopeless, he had to trust that Myrtle would know what to do. Ruby’s safety came first, even if she had to be forced to leave him.
Forcing himself up, Hector glanced over his shoulder to check where Cecelia was, and found her collecting herself, the coils of her body folding over each other as she wound herself up for another strike. She was fast, but she was imprecise, it seemed – and Hector knew he could use that.
Changing directions, he ran toward the maintenance shed, forcing his legs to move. He couldn’t reach the speeds he normally would, but right now, he’d settle for fast enough.
He chanced a glance over at the rooftop garden. Myrtle and Ruby were nowhere in sight, hidden amongst the green foliage.
Stay that way, he tried to mentally transmit to them, knowing they couldn’t hear it… although, with the surprising powers Ruby had displayed, perhaps she could.
In that case, he hoped she’d listen.
He reached the maintenance shed and turned, pressing his back against it. Cecelia, clearly angry, was slithering toward him, silvery eyes narrowed. She’d obviously decided to take him out before she went after Ruby, which was probably a smart move on her part: griffin or human, she knew Hector wouldn’t let her leave with the baby pegasus.
Come on, then, Hector thought. Make your move.
And then, she did.
Hector used the ounce of shifter speed that remained within him to dive out of the way at the last second, ducking and rolling out of range of Cecelia’s striking head.
Behind him, he heard an almighty CRASH as she smashed into the side of the maintenance shed. When Hector glanced behind him, he saw that her strike had mostly demolished two of its walls, debris spinning through the air.
Good. Great.
While Hector couldn’t say he was thrilled to see the evidence of just how powerful Cecelia’s strikes could be – with all the power of her coils of muscle, he’d probably be dead just from the impact, never mind the piercing wounds from her fangs – she’d behaved just as he’d hoped she would, and done the work for him in terms of getting at whatever was inside the maintenance shed.
If there was a garden up here, Hector was willing to bet there were gardening tools in the shed – sharp-pronged forks, replacement tiles, shovels – not perfect, but the kinds of things that could definitely be used as makeshift weapons.
Cecelia flopped on the ground, apparently dazed by her high-speed head-first encounter with the shed. Hector didn’t waste a second. Turning, he vaulted over her twitching coils, landing by the destroyed shed. Lifting up a couple of larger pieces of debris and tossing them aside, he searched for anything he could use.
Come on, come on, there’s gotta be something in here…
His eyes fell on a reel of heavy steel cabling – the kind used to suspend window-washing carts. It was thick and heavy, and designed to stand up to the worst kind of punishment.
That’ll do.
Springing forward, Hector reached for it – only for Cecelia’s swaying form to block his path.
She’d recovered faster than he’d thought she would, and she hissed at him furiously, eyes glinting in the sun.
“How dare you –”
That was as far as she got before something smashed into the side of her head, making her falter.
What was that?!
As one, Hector and Cecelia turned.
Myrtle stood in the garden, Ruby hovering by her shoulder. One hand was clenched by her side, but her other was winding back, getting ready to throw –
Hector barely had time to register what was happening before Myrtle had heaved her arm forward, sending what she was holding in her hand sailing toward Cecelia’s head.
A brick, Hector realized, a moment before it crashed into Cecelia’s neck.
Myrtle had deadly aim and an incredible throw, and Hector had to wonder if she hadn’t inherited some of her family’s athleticism after all. Cecelia writhed, hissing in pain, her tongue flickering. It was clear her animal fury was beginning to take over her mind – though with animal fury came animal instincts, and the inability to hold back in a fight. If Cecelia’s shifter mind took over, she might forget all about how Hargreaves had sent her to find Ruby and bring her back to be coddled into a life of destruction, and instead start striking at random.
And besides which, Hector didn’t intend to waste a moment of the opening that Myrtle had given him.
Diving forward, he grabbed the reel of cabling, unwinding three thick loops. He held the two ends in his hands as he planted a foot on Cecelia’s back, leaping upward, threading her head through the circle of the cable – and then, he pulled tight.
Cecelia, realizing what was happening, began to thrash, trying to throw him off, but Hector gritted his teeth, simply pulling the cable tighter and tighter around her throat. The rough metal rope tore at the skin of his palms, blood running between his fingers, but he held on, determined that Cecelia wouldn’t throw him off.
He could feel her grow frantic as more and more of her air was cut off, enraged gasps and hisses escaping her mouth. But the more she thrashed, the tighter he pulled the cable. Hector could feel his muscles straining, his hands slipping in his own blood, but he couldn’t afford to let his grip loosen, even for a moment…
“No! No!!”
Cecelia’s cry was filled with rage, but it was strained and harsh. She heaved her body over, and Hector had to shift his position on her neck to avoid being crushed, his grip slackening for a moment.
At first, Hector thought it was her last convulsion before she slipped into unconsciousness, but as her body continued to writhe, he realized that Cecelia had more life left in her yet.
But he realized it a moment too late.
Hissing in fury, Cecelia flicked her thick tail through the air, toward the garden –
– And caught Myrtle square in the chest.
“MYRTLE!”
Without a second thought, Hector let go of the cable, leaping down from Cecelia’s back and sprinting across the patio.
I’m too late. I’m going to be too late –
And he was. Before he could reach her, Myrtle,
a look of terror on her face, stumbled back toward the edge of the balcony, and fell.
Chapter 13
Oh. Oh, shit.
Myrtle supposed oh shit might be something of an understatement, in the moment she had before gravity caught up with her, and she caught up with her stomach, the lurch within her as she began plummeting toward the ground almost painful.
She hadn’t realized what was happening until it was too late. Cecelia’s final, heaving writhe had caught her across the chest with more force than she’d expected, knocking her off her feet and against the railing of the balcony – but her momentum had been too strong, and she had tumbled over, fingers scrabbling uselessly at the edge of the railing.
Myrtle heard Ruby’s distressed cry as she watched the edge of the patio begin to disappear from view. She’d always thought she’d scream if she fell from somewhere so high, but now her throat felt closed tight – shock and terror pounded through her, adrenaline screaming in her veins as she threw one hand uselessly up, knowing it was hopeless –
Only to have a strong hand close suddenly and tightly around her wrist.
For a moment, Myrtle didn’t dare believe it had really happened. Her mind, unable to deal with the idea that she was plummeting to her death and leaving Ruby behind to be taken by Cecelia, had substituted reality with something it could deal with.
It – it can’t be –
But after a moment, Myrtle realized that no, she wasn’t falling any longer. She was dangling in mid-air, legs kicking out, heart pounding in her ears, her fall arrested by the hand around her wrist.
The… the hand that’s covered in blood, which is making its grip kinda slippery…
“Myrtle!”
Myrtle was jerked out of the last of her terror-induced daze at the sound of Hector’s voice. She raised her head, eyes wide, to see him leaning over the edge of the balcony, holding her wrist in one hand, the other gripping tight to the lower portion of the railing, his torso sticking out into the open air. His face looked pained, but his grip was strong and sure. Myrtle’s shoulder hurt where it had been wrenched in its socket when he’d caught her, but compared with splattery death she thought that was pretty small potatoes.
