by Aaron Hodges
Within minutes, the valley was left far behind. Chris glimpsed the shining walls of the facility as he flew past but did not stop. He had no wish to revisit those dark corridors, no desire to see the cell he and his friends had shared for so many weeks and months.
The scent of the Chead drew him on. Lifting higher, he glided between the mountain peaks. He hardly felt the cold now. With the sun high overhead and the muscles all along his body working in concert, he was almost overheating. But it didn’t matter. His quarry was close, his hunt almost at an end.
Below, bright red rocks glowed in the heat of the sun. Spindly scrub clung to the flats of the valley floors, while overhead the white-capped peaks glinted in the noonday sun, so bright Chris had to avert his gaze. The roar of a river echoed from the cliffs, its banks packed to bursting with the summer melt.
Not for the first time, Chris found himself wishing they’d never left this towering mountain range. Here, divided as they’d been, at least the five of them had been free. He could still see Mira’s youthful joy as she had danced through the clouds, diving down to inspect the frozen streams, quiet but happy. And Richard, as he’d smashed through the ice to catch a trout. Liz, doing her best to forage in the barren country. He could even see Jasmine, always so stoic and withdrawn, smiling at some secret joke Richard had whispered in her ear.
But instead they had left, had returned to civilization, and died for it.
Or lost themselves.
Tears blurred Chris’s vision, but he quickly blinked them away. There was no point dwelling on the past. Ashley had challenged him to do something with his miserable life, and he didn’t intend to disappoint her. Not again.
His eyes scanned the earth, taking in the folds of the mountain slopes. They were starting to fall away now, as the mountains dropped towards Arizona. The snow-capped peaks were behind him, giving way to mountains that seemed to wind together like some ancient tapestry. Chris squinted, studying the shadows cast across the rocky valleys. The scent was strong now. He was almost on them.
Movement shifted in the shadows. Angling his wings, Chris headed towards it.
46
Susan lay in the shadows staring up at the mountain peak. Her head rested on Hecate’s shoulder, but her mate was fast asleep, his soft snores whispering through the night, merging with the rumblings of the other Chead. Talisa had brought a hundred of her best warriors with them—a small army that would tear through whatever resistance humanity might offer.
It had taken every inch of Susan’s will to convince Talisa to bring her along. Even after Susan’s revelation, the elder Chead had been adamant she remain behind. Her children needed her, Talisa had argued with cold eyes, even as she sought to steal away their father.
But in the end, the prize Susan had promised was too tempting, and Talisa had yielded.
Now though, in the cold, unforgiving mountains, Susan found herself plagued by doubt. Her heart ached, the absence of her children like a physical blow. She had left them in the caverns, in the care of another Chead—one with her own litter. They would be safe with the other newborns, protected by the maze of tunnels, and the Chead who had remained behind.
Still, Susan could not dismiss the uneasiness in her stomach, the fear she had made a terrible mistake. What if the humans came for them, if they unleashed their deadly weapons on the Chead’s hidden tunnels? Her children would be helpless, would die in agony, knowing their mother had abandoned them.
Shivering, Susan rolled on her side and stared at Hecate’s sleeping face. The movement disturbed him, and his eyelids fluttered open, revealing the grey sheen of his eyes.
“My mate,” he breathed, “why do you…not sleep? Night will come…soon.”
Susan nodded, but the sorrow still lodged in her throat, and she struggled to find the words to respond. “I…am…worried,” she murmured, “about our…future.”
A rumble came from Hecate’s chest as he stroked her cheek. A shiver ran through Susan as his scent caught in her nostrils. The fiery tendrils of desire wrapped around her throat, but for once she fought them back, desperate to cling to the remnants of her sanity.
“No…” she whispered as Hecate’s fingers drifted down her throat.
Her mate stilled, his hand lingering on the small of her chest. A frown creased his forehead. “No?” he asked, his voice soft.
Susan shook her head, struggling to keep a grip on the train of her thoughts. Hunger slivered through her mind, distracting her, but she forged on.
“Humanity…is cruel...without mercy…what if…they come for them?” she pressed.
Laughter whispered from Hecate’s lips. “Then we shall avenge them…a thousand-fold.” Susan’s eyes widened at the power in her mate’s voice. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her on top of him. This time she lacked the will to resist. A smile spread across his lips. “The fire you shall light…will burn them all away.”
A moan built in Susan’s throat as Hecate’s fingers danced along her back. She found herself nodding to his words, her worries assuaged, her path determined. Feeling him beneath her, flames filled her chest, and leaning down, she pressed her lips hard against his. She gasped as his taste washed away the last of her fear.
Suddenly Hecate stiffened beneath her. His hands gripped her hard and tossed her to the side. She gasped as the cold mountain stones cut at her. Hecate clambered quickly to his feet.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, her lust turning to rage.
Her mate shook his head. He looked out over the other Chead, to where the mouth of the canyon opened out. There, the light of day shone brightly on the hillside.
“We have…a visitor,” Hecate said finally.
He set off through the sleeping Chead, his bare feet making no noise on the sharp stones. Susan stared after him, anger churning in her chest. Without waiting for an invitation, she rose and followed him.
It only took them a few minutes to traverse the Chead. A hundred sleeping bodies dotted the ground between the towering cliffs, tucked into crevices and between boulders, wherever they could avoid the howling mountain winds. In the shadow, they were all but invisible.
Susan’s heart raced as they made their way out into the sunlight. What did Hecate mean by a visitor? The Chead had hidden their tracks well, only traversing the wide Californian plains by night, hiding during the day, ensuring the humans remained unaware of their passage. Yet now Hecate was saying someone had found them, had managed to slip through their scouts and come within yards of their nest.
On the gravel slope, Hecate lifted his head and stared up at the mountains. Susan stood behind him, her eyes following his gaze. The sky was empty, but Hecate clearly knew something she didn’t. Yet he did not seem concerned—in fact, there was the slightest of smiles on his face. Gritting her teeth, Susan settled beside him.
They did not have to wait long.
Within minutes, a speck appeared in the sky. Susan held her breath as it grew, waiting for the roar of an engine. She glanced at Hecate, expecting him to act, but still he did not move.
Slowly the speck grew larger, and Susan realized the visitor was not one of humanity’s deadly aircrafts, but something else entirely.
The strange boy with tawny brown wings drifted towards them, finally settling on the slope below. The stones gave way beneath his boots as he landed, almost sending him face-first into the ground.
Hecate snorted as the boy’s curses carried up to them. “Welcome, cousin,” he barked in greeting. “I thought…you were dead.”
Scowling, the boy folded his wings behind his back and straightened. A tingle of recognition shot through Susan as his hazel eyes met hers, but after a moment he turned his gaze back to Hecate. Frowning, she tried to place him. The memories rose like shadows from her mind, blurry and indistinct, but she could not find his face among them.
“No thanks to you,” the boy said, “and you’re no relative of mine, Hecate.”
Her mate grinned. “My apologies…Chris, yes?�
�� He trailed off, and then shrugged. “We did not mean…to lead the humans…to you. They proved…persistent. Have you finally come…to join us?”
“No, I’ve come to stop you,” Chris shot back.
Hecate chuckled. The sound echoed off the surrounding cliffs as he spread his arms. “You think…you stand a chance?”
The boy bared his teeth, his wings lifting slightly from his back. Susan eyed him, her lips pursed, but did not move. This was Hecate’s fight to enjoy; her mate had no need of her help.
The boy twisted so he was standing side-on to Hecate, fists outstretched. “Why don’t we find out?” he growled. “I’ve been dying for a rematch.”
“Gladly,” Hecate sneered.
At that her mate charged, his powerful legs sending up a shower of stones behind him. The boy Chris had only a split-second to react before Hecate was on him. Her mate’s meaty fist swung at his face. Susan grinned as the blow sent the boy reeling.
But unlike so many humans before him, the boy did not go down. His feet shifted deftly in the loose gravel, steadying him. He tried to straighten, only to catch a foot square in his face. This time the impact flung Chris backwards across the rocky ground. He bounced several times before a boulder brought him to a stop. Blood trickled down his chin as he staggered back to his feet.
“Had enough?” Hecate asked lightly.
Chris didn’t answer. Spreading his wings, he leapt into the air. Her mate crouched as the boy’s shadow raced across the slope towards him. Eyes narrowed, he watched the tawny wings fold, sending Chris into a dive. At the last second, Hecate hurled himself to the side.
The boy cursed, but his wings were already shifting, redirecting his course. Hecate had no time to recover before Chris’s boot struck him in the chest. This time it was Susan’s mate who was sent hurtling backwards. But Hecate twisted as he fell, landing easily on his feet. A savage growl rumbled from his throat as he rubbed his chest and glared at Chris.
Rage lit in Susan’s stomach as she sensed her mate’s pain. She glared at the boy, though she did not move. This was still Hecate’s battle—she would not intervene unless asked. No matter how much she longed to tear the hideous wings from the boy’s back.
Raising a hand, Chris beckoned Hecate forward. “Come on, show me what you’ve got, Chead.”
A sharp hiss came from Hecate, but this time he did not rush the stranger. The two circled one another, grey and hazel eyes unblinking, never leaving their opponent for even a second.
Finally, Chris broke the stalemate. Lurching forward, his fist flashed for Hecate’s face. Hecate reached up to catch the blow, but at the last second Chris dropped his shoulder. Instead of a fist, the boy’s body slammed into Hecate’s chest, sending him stumbling back. Using his momentum, Chris spun, and his wing snapped out to catch Hecate clean in the face. The force of the blow whipped her mate’s head back with a sickening thud. Tumbling backwards, Hecate lost his footing and fell—just in time to avoid a second blow from Chris’s boot.
On the ground, Hecate rolled as the winged boy gave chase. Gravel rattled down the slope as Chris leapt. His fist caught Hecate again as he regained his feet, but recovering, Hecate managed to catch the next wild kick. Digging in his fingers, Hecate locked the boy’s leg in an iron grip.
Hecate grinned at his helpless opponent, but Chris only smiled back. Leaping off his other leg, he twisted mid-air, his free foot coming round to catch Hecate in the side of the head. Susan’s mate staggered, his feet suddenly unsteady, his eyes whirling.
Chris landed lightly, his wings beating slightly to keep him upright. Folding his arms, he shook his head. “Not so fun when it’s a fair fight, is it?”
Susan caught the steely glint in her mate’s eyes as he straightened. She smiled to herself. Hecate was beyond reason now, caught in the red-hot insanity of the Chead rage. The imposter didn’t stand a chance.
Roaring, Hecate charged. Chris fell into a crouch, wings outstretched, fists raised to guard his face. Even so, the ferocity of Hecate’s attack drove him back. Chris gasped as the Chead batted away his feeble blows and grasped him by the waist. A cry echoed off the cliffs as Hecate lifted the boy above his head, preparing to slam him into the gravel.
Before Hecate could strike, Chris’s wings beat down, sending dust swirling across the mountainside. The power of his wings yanked them both off their feet, allowing Chris to twist around and punch Hecate in the face.
Losing his grip, Hecate fell. He grasped at Chris’s wing, and the boy shrieked as a handful of feathers tore free. The great wings beat down again, but off-balance now, Chris went spinning sideways and slammed into the loose gravel.
Hecate stalked after the fallen boy. Cursing, Chris rolled, narrowly avoiding being stomped into the side of the mountain. Coming to his feet, the boy narrowed his eyes as Hecate came after him.
Susan watched on from the slope above, the blood thumping hard in her skull. She could almost taste her mate’s triumph now, could almost see the boy’s face as his life trickled away, as he died alone in these merciless mountains. Breathing in, she savored the tang of blood in the air. Lust rose in her throat as she watched Hecate beat his way through the foolish boy’s defenses.
Blood streamed down both their faces now, and half a dozen cuts marked their flesh. But Chris was slowing, his strength worn down by the fight, while Hecate seemed to find fresh stores of energy. The Chead rage was unquenchable, unstoppable. The pathetic creature would not prevail.
The two closed on each other again. Sensing his opponent’s weakness, Hecate launched a flurry of blows. Chris staggered back, his reflexes barely able to keep stock of the Chead’s fury. Dark bruises appeared on his arms and his shirt was in pieces. It would not be long now.
Then, as Hecate readied himself for another blow, the boy’s foot slipped on the loose stones. He struggled to regain his balance, but Susan’s mate was on him in an instant. Hecate clenched his fists together and swung at the boy’s head.
Except Chris was no longer there. Spinning on his heel, he dodged Hecate’s double-handed blow, allowing the Chead’s momentum to carry him past. Suddenly the boy was behind Susan’s mate. Before Hecate could react, Chris’s arm was around his throat, hauling him back, tightening until the veins on both their necks were bulging.
Choking, Hecate struggled to break the boy’s hold, but his phenomenal strength was rendered useless with his center of mass pulled off balance. His hands slapped at Chris’s arms, his iron fingers digging into flesh, but the boy did not flinch. Teeth bared, he held on for dear life.
On the slope above, Susan shook herself free of her shock. Fists clenched, she started forward, the flickering of the Chead rage beginning in her stomach. The familiar red haze settled over her vision as she closed on the boy. His attention elsewhere, he did not notice her approach.
But as Susan closed on him, a sharp crack came from overhead, and a black-winged girl fell from the sky to land between them.
47
For three days, Liz had tracked Chris across the Californian plains, winging her way from abandoned farmhouse to rundown shack to open pasture. His distant scent drew her on, close, yet always just out of reach. However fast she flew, somehow he managed to remain one step ahead of her.
Only when she followed him into the mountains did Liz sense she was closing on him. Unfortunately, another scent was also growing, a sickly sweetness that tainted the crisp mountain air and set her stomach on edge.
The Chead.
Now, as she stood between the creature and Chris, she wondered what insanity had brought him here. Why had he come all this way to confront the Chead? What had he hoped to achieve out here, all by himself? She could smell the sweetness billowing from the dark canyon above—the stench of a hundred Chead, all gathered in one place.
On the slope above Liz, the female Chead had frozen, but now her lips drew back in a snarl and she started forward again.
“Enough!” said a gruff voice from behind Liz.
Riskin
g a glance back, she realized her appearance had given the other Chead a chance to break free of Chris’s hold. Liz blinked as she recognized him. It was the same creature they’d fought in the facility, who had escaped into the mountains and saved them from the soldiers.
The one who had led the government to her childhood home.
Hecate took a step back from Chris, his eyes gleaming in the dying sunlight. His gaze flickered up past Liz, to where the other Chead lurked. “Enough, Susan,” he repeated.
Stones rattled as Susan came to a stop. A low growl came from the woman’s throat and Liz saw the hunger lurking behind the grey eyes, the desire to tear her limb from limb. A long minute stretched out before the woman gave a curt nod.
Smirking, Liz turned her back and started down the slope towards Chris and Hecate. They watched her come, Chris with wide eyes, Hecate wearing a slightly bemused grin. Both were looking worse for wear. The fight had left their clothes in tatters, and dark bruises were swelling on their arms and faces. Approaching them, all Liz could do was shake her head. It seemed boys, whatever their species, would be boys.
Hecate’s grey eyes looked her up and down as she reached him, and his grin spread. He opened his mouth to speak, but Liz was faster still. Stepping in close, she slammed her knee into his crotch, and the youthful Chead crumpled to the ground with a pained squeak.
“That’s for my house,” Liz snapped.
Stones rattled, and she turned in time to see the second Chead leap. Hands bare—she’d left her gloves in the embassy—Liz reached up and caught the woman by the fist. The Chead swung at her again, but she was obviously not accustomed to fighting someone with matching abilities, and Liz easily sidestepped her. She quickly drove a blow into the woman’s stomach, forcing her backwards.
“You might scare humans,” Liz laughed, “but you’re no fighter.”
Growling, the Chead started climbing to her feet. She made it to her knees before a convulsion shook her, bending her in two. A sharp scream echoed from the surrounding cliffs as the Chead collapsed on her side, clutching a swollen hand to her chest.
