by Aaron Hodges
Then she was sitting up, her hands tugging at his shirt, pulling it over his head. A second later it was gone, and now it was Ashley’s hands on his naked chest. He shuddered as her cold fingers trailed along his body. Opening his wings, he wrapped them in a feathery embrace. Her head lifted as he leaned down. Their lips met again in a hard, desperate kiss.
Growling, Sam pressed Ashley down. She went willingly now, falling back on the dusty ground. Leaning in, he drank in the sight of her bare body, the glow of her skin in the starlight. Her lips parted, and he saw the invitation in her eyes, the naked lust.
Crouching on all fours, Sam poised his body over hers, until they were only inches apart. She stared up at him, eyes wide and expectant, but still he lingered. Pinned between his arms, there was no escape for Ashley now, and he wanted to savor this moment.
Finally, he lowered himself as Ashley lifted to meet him. He moaned as her breasts brushed against his chest. Her hand went around his waist, pulling him down, drawing him in, until he could feel her all around him. Burying his head in her shoulder, he gave himself to the rhythm of their bodies, his mind falling away in a rush of ecstasy.
Part 6
Manipulation
50
“Mom?”
The word seemed to come from nowhere. It echoed through the cave, lingering in the darkness long after Liz had spoken it.
No one moved, no one spoke. Every eye in the cave was fixed on her, but Liz hardly noticed. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the old woman sitting on the boulder, couldn’t bring herself to believe what she was seeing.
Because it was impossible, wasn’t it? She had seen her mother change, becoming the bloodthirsty creature that had torn away her father’s life. She had watched the soldiers disappear into the woods, rifles at the ready, prepared to shoot her mother on sight. Not once in the last two years had she considered the possibility that her mother had survived.
Yet here she was, aged far beyond her years, but still unmistakably her mother. The milky white eyes were frighteningly different, but the shape of her face, the curls of her hair, even the way she carried herself, all were unchanged. And her voice…her voice had transported Liz back in time, to quiet nights spent around the kitchen table and long days in the fields. It was a voice Liz had never thought she would hear again.
Slowly, the old woman climbed to her feet and started forward. Watching her come, Liz found herself fixed in place, trapped in the gaze of the old Chead, by the eyes of her mother. The Chead came to a stop just a foot away. Long seconds stretched out as they stared at each other.
“Mom,” Liz croaked again, barely able to get the word out.
After everything she’d been through since that day on the mountain, everything she had suffered, it was all too much. Her vision shone as the ancient Chead reached out and cupped her cheek. White eyes drank her in as her mother slowly shook her head.
“My Elizabeth,” she whispered. “My daughter.”
A shrill keening began in the back of Liz’s throat. She didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Emotion welled within her, the swirling memories of her grief, the rush of sudden hope. Love and despair crashed together, filling her until Liz thought she might drown in it.
She saw again her last memory of her mother—of a grey-eyed creature covered in blood, standing over the body of her father. It had been the moment Liz had lost both of her parents.
Yet now here she was, the woman who had raised her, who had loved her and held her tight on cold winter nights, who had cared for her when she was sick and had kissed her bruises better.
A tremor started in Liz’s legs. It spread until her whole body was shaking. “How…how is this possible?” she managed.
A smile wrinkled her mother’s cheeks. She stroked Liz’s face before turning to Chris. Talisa circled him, her lips pursed in the same way she had once inspected livestock at the market. Catching Chris staring at her, Liz quickly looked away.
Completing her circuit, her mother returned to Liz. “This is your mate?”
“I…I…” Liz opened her mouth and closed it again, unable to answer. Her cheeks flushed, and she carefully avoided meeting Chris’s eyes.
Chuckling, her mother returned to Liz’s side, and reached out to stroke the jet-black feathers. “What have they done to you, my daughter?”
Liz swallowed as tears welled in her eyes. She fought the urge to throw herself into her mother’s arms and sob the whole awful story to her.
It’s not her. She grated the words in her mind. It can’t be her.
And yet it was. She could see it in her eyes. Gone was the mad glint of the Chead, the ferocious hunger of the creature that had killed her father. In its place was a shining warmth, a softness that could only be the love of a mother for her child.
This was her mother, the one who’d been stolen from her, taken away by the government’s heartless cruelty.
Liz clenched her fists, swallowing her pain, her grief. “It’s…” She shook her head. “It’s a long story…Mom.”
The word tasted strange in her mouth, like she’d almost forgotten how to speak it.
A withered hand stroked her cheek again. Liz closed her eyes, shivering at the warmth of her mother’s fingers. A soft, sweet scent danced in her nostrils, at once familiar and foreign. Breathing it in, Liz’s heart slowed. She felt her body relaxing, the racing thud of adrenaline beginning to cool.
Then Liz’s eyes snapped open as she realized her mother had touched her skin. Stumbling back a step, she gaped, staring, her heart tumbling into her stomach. “No…” she whispered, her hand going to her mouth. Her mother was so aged, the venom would surely kill her…
Her mother leaned her head to the side and frowned. “What is the matter, my daughter?”
The keening built in Liz’s throat again. “You…you touched me,” she gasped finally.
The pale eyes studied her for a moment. Then, smiling, her mother lifted her hand and inspected it. Liz stared at the wrinkled flesh, searching for the redness that marked her touch, the purple that followed. But her mother’s skin remained a pale white, unmarked by sun or venom. She lowered her hand and looked at Liz again.
“You have the touch?” she asked.
Not knowing what to say, all Liz could do was nod. Her mother’s eyes danced as she pulled Liz into an embrace. Liz tensed as the wrinkled arms wrapped around her. A tremor ran through her wings, her feathers standing on end. She held her breath, eyes squeezed shut, hardly daring to move. Breathing in, the sweet scent of her mother filled her nostrils. Memories flashed through her mind, of her mother kissing her goodnight, hugging her goodbye on her first day of school.
Finally, Liz could fight it no longer. Shuddering, she hugged her mother back. “Mom,” she choked into Talisa’s shoulder, “I missed you so much.”
Strong hands stroked her back. “There, there, my daughter. I’m here now. You are home.”
“Home?” Hiccupping, Liz managed to regain some of her composure. Pulling back slightly, she looked at her mother.
“Home,” her mother repeated. “Is that not why you are here?”
Liz swallowed, not knowing what to say. She thought of Chris, of the compulsion that had drawn her after him, that had led her across the sprawling plains of San Francisco, back up into those icy mountains. But staring into her mother’s face, into her strange-yet-familiar eyes, those thoughts drifted away, and finally she shook her head.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“Oh, my daughter,” her mother murmured. “We must find your way.”
Shivering, Liz closed her eyes again. Pressure grew in her chest as she struggled to breathe.
“We’re here to stop you.” Chris’s voice echoed through the cavern.
The words cut through the haze blanketing Liz’s mind, through the shock of her mother’s resurrection. Blinking, she looked around. Chris still stood nearby, his face pale. He watched them with wide eyes.
Soft whispers spread around the cave as the Ch
ead laughed. Her mother turned to look at Chris, her milky eyes hardening, though the smile never left her lips. “Stop us from doing what, child?”
Chris swallowed visibly. His wings started to tremble, but he lifted his head in defiance. “Stop you from slaughtering innocent people.”
“I see.” Talisa stepped towards Chris, her wrinkled legs carrying her slowly across the cavern.
Jaw clenched, Chris stood his ground. Liz watched on, feet fixed in place, unable to move or even speak. She found herself a silent observer to the conflict between her mother and Chris.
“Do you not want revenge, child?” Talisa whispered as she reached Chris. She brushed a hand through his feathers. “On the ones who did this to you? Who locked you in cages, who tortured you and so many others? Hecate has told me of humanity’s experiments.”
Chris frowned. “They’re…already dead,” he croaked. His eyes moved to the girl, Susan. “You killed them.”
Talisa’s laughter echoed through the cave as she left Chris where he stood. With slow steps, she returned to the boulder and sat. A sigh escaped her lips as she shook her head.
“Not all of them,” she said, eyes moving from Chris to Liz. “Not the one responsible for my people’s suffering.”
“What do you mean?” Chris asked. “Hecate said you destroyed the facility up here in the mountains.”
“We did,” Talisa replied, “but those pathetic creatures were only pawns, child. Do you not wish to punish those truly responsible? To destroy the one who had you taken, who has hunted you all this time?”
Forehead creased, Chris took a step closer to Talisa. “What do you mean?”
“Are you truly so clueless?” Talisa chuckled. “Has your time with the humans taught you nothing? Their leader still lives. Only with his death will my people have their retribution.”
“You mean the President?” Chris breathed. “How can you…”
“President, Master, Butcher, his name does not matter. He will die regardless, so that my people may have peace.”
“Peace?” Liz spoke up, her mind finally beginning to work again.
“Yes, my daughter.” The milky eyes switched to Liz. “My time is short, but I shall not rest until this world is safe for all my children.” She gestured around the cave, encompassing the silent host of Chead.
A lump rose in Liz’s throat. “What do you mean, your time is short?”
“It is the curse of the Chead, my daughter.” Sadness touched her mother’s words now. “We burn brightly, and then we die.”
Liz blinked back tears as she tried to put her emotions into words. But they would not come, and finally she shook her head, grasping at the message behind her mother’s words. “You want peace?”
“We do,” her mother replied.
Liz nodded, steeling herself. She glanced briefly at Chris, then turned back to her mother. “Then we’ll help you.”
51
Susan’s teeth grated as she watched the strangers leave the cave. Fists clenched, she struggled to control her anger. She could still see the boy attacking Hecate, humiliating her mate, though he had cheated with those cursed wings of his. And the girl…her arm still itched where Liz had touched her. Susan’s lips drew back in a snarl as she imagined tearing the black feathers from those wings, one by one.
Only Hecate’s presence kept her under control. Despite his encounter with the boy, he remained strangely calm, unperturbed by Talisa’s welcoming of the two strangers. Even during the fight, he had not seemed to take the boy seriously—at least, not until the end, when the deceitful creature had almost killed him.
The girl’s revelation about Talisa had shaken him, though. It had shaken Susan as well. An inexplicable rage had overtaken her as the elder Chead embraced the girl. Teeth clenched, she’d watched in silence as the two conversed, exchanging declarations of love and affection. The sudden emotion, the humanity in Talisa’s expression made Susan sick to her stomach.
Even now, she could hardly bear to look at the elder Chead.
“Why, Talisa?” she growled as the two disappeared around the bend in the cave.
Talisa’s milky eyes turned towards her. “What do you mean, my child?”
Susan shivered, her fingers turning to claws as she approached the old Chead. “How could you…tell the strangers our plans? How could you invite them into our ranks?”
Sitting on her outcropping of rock, Talisa did not respond. Her eyes had returned to their normal, unreadable hardness. “She is my daughter,” she murmured. Standing, she stepped up to Susan.
Susan bared her teeth. “They cannot…be trusted—”
She broke off as Talisa lunged. Her feet scrambled on the loose stones, but the elder Chead’s hand shot out and caught her by the wrist before she could retreat. Pain shot through Susan’s arm as iron fingers dug into her flesh, dragging her forward until only an inch separated them.
“You would have me spurn my own child?” Talisa hissed in Susan’s ear.
A lump lodged in Susan’s throat as she locked eyes with Talisa. She tried to pull away, but her will fled, and suddenly she found herself on her knees. Talisa stood over her, eyes aglow in the darkness.
“You would have me kill her?” she growled.
Susan bowed her head. “No, Talisa.”
The iron hold on her wrist did not relent. “You disappoint me, girl,” Talisa murmured. “I should return you to your own children.”
Tears stung Susan’s eyes. Shivering, she looked up at the elder Chead. The ache in her chest told her what such a fate meant. She would lose her place at Talisa’s side, would become little more than an incubator for a new generation of Chead. And she would be without Hecate, without her mate—the one thing holding her to sanity.
Somewhere deep inside, a flame lit the darkness of her despair. Suddenly she found herself able to meet Talisa’s gaze. Gathering herself, Susan climbed back to her feet and faced the ancient Chead.
“No.”
The word rang in the darkness, a declaration, a promise. Looking into the Talisa’s eyes, Susan thought she saw something change, a sudden doubt, quickly gone.
The wrinkles deepened in Talisa’s forehead. “Who are you to refuse me, child?”
With a jerk of her wrist, Susan tore her hand free. “I am Chead!” Her words echoed through the cave, gaining power, restoring her will.
Seconds turned into minutes as Talisa stood staring at her. Susan held her breath, fists opening and closing, clinging to the strength that had propelled her to her feet.
Finally, Talisa gave the slightest of nods. “Very well, child,” she whispered. “You may remain.”
Relief swept through Susan. Her shoulders sagged, her eyes fluttering closed in sudden exhaustion. “Thank you.”
A smile twisted her elder’s lips. “Perhaps you can help us deal with my daughter and her mate.”
“What do you mean, Talisa?” Hecate asked, joining them.
“There is more of the Chead in them than they realize, child,” Talisa replied. She returned to her seat on the rock. “My daughter will come to accept our world, given time.”
“Then why…did you not tell them…everything?”
“They are not ready,” Talisa murmured. “The boy may never be, but my daughter, I can sense the Chead within her. She must embrace her true nature, must accept the change and become one of us. Only then can she learn the truth.”
“And until then?” Susan pressed.
“Our plans must remain secret,” Talisa whispered. “You have done well to give us hope, child, but the stench of humanity still clings to my daughter and the boy. If they discover our true goal, they will rebel.”
Hecate grunted. “They did not seem…concerned about their President’s death.”
“No,” Talisa mused. “It is strange, but still, they may balk when faced with humanity’s execution. They cannot yet see the true nature of their former species, that humanity will never tolerate an equal. Only their extinction can bring th
e peace we seek.”
“Yes,” Susan bowed her head. “We will do as you say, Talisa.”
She turned away, her eyes drawn to the shadows around the cave’s entrance. The strangers were long gone, but her lips pulled back in a snarl as she thought of them. An orange glow lit her mind as she imagined the flames that would soon engulf humanity. She smiled, thinking of the winged girl burning alongside them.
Yes, let them all perish, she thought. And the freaks with them.
52
Chris staggered sideways as a Chead pushed past him. His feet slipped on a loose rock and he almost fell. Only a slight flutter of his wings kept him upright. Straightening, he glared at the creature, but the perpetrator was already moving off, winding between the faded stone buildings of the abandoned settlement. It had hardly spared him a glance as it shouldered past.
Gritting his teeth, Chris headed in the other direction. The darkness was just beginning to give way to the light of day, and Talisa had finally called a stop. Though Chris would never admit it, the news had come as a relief. They had left behind the mountains a few days ago and were now somewhere out on what he guessed were the plains of Arizona. Dry, inhospitable land stretched out all around them, and he had no desire to spend another day exposed to the unforgiving summer sun.
It would have been easier if they could fly, but out of respect for their flightless cousins, Liz had decided they should run alongside them. Not wanting to argue, Chris had agreed, though by now he was long past caring if he insulted the Chead.
As Talisa’s daughter, Liz had been welcomed by the deadly creatures as one of their own. Chris, however, was treated with cold indifference. Only Hecate seemed to enjoy his company, though Chris wasn’t sure why. Perhaps he’d won the young Chead’s respect in their fight—or perhaps Hecate simply found it amusing to watch Chris struggle with the grueling pace set by his kind.
Shaking his head, Chris dismissed the dark-haired Chead from his thoughts and turned his attention to the buildings around him. Liz had headed this way a few moments ago, though she hadn’t bothered telling him where she was going. Still weighed down by guilt, Chris hadn’t said anything, but he was quickly becoming irritated by her behavior since joining the Chead.
