Shadow Eater, page 8
part #2 of Shadowlands Series
Humans with weapons.
I counted four in total, their faces streaked with black, eye-whites shining in the moonlight, weapons trained on me. My first instinct was relief, but their hard eyes, turned down mouths, and ready-to-shoot stances reminded me what I was. What they saw when they looked at me. I didn’t recognise them, and I knew everyone at Shelter, which could only mean one thing—these men were from another pocket!
I slowly raised my hands in the universal sign of surrender. “Don’t shoot.”
“Shit, what the fuck is it saying?” The man to my left said.
“Take it down!” Another voice chimed in.
But the woman in front of me simply narrowed her eyes and slowly lowered her weapon.
“Em, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Have you ever seen one act like this before?” Em said. “Look at it, it’s a female. Look at its eyes; it’s almost as if she understands every word we’re saying.” Em took a step closer and the sound of guns being cocked filled the air.
I tensed, not daring to breathe.
“She’s not as ugly as the others either, she looks almost... human.”
“Fuck this, Em, quit messing about, they’re all ugly fucks, and we need to tag and trank it, then get it back to base.”
Em sighed. “Yeah.” She raised her weapon and aimed it at me. A sharp sting erupted at the back of my neck. I reached up to pull the dart out of my skin. Em had been a distraction, one of the others had shot me, I waited for the fuzzies, but nothing happened.
Em smiled, “Lights out.” Her finger tightened on the trigger, my heart leapt into my mouth, and then a roar filled the air.
The silence was filled with screams as a crimson whirlwind ripped through the night.
Daemon! It was fucked up how my heart was filled with joy as he tore my fellow humans limb from limb.
Don’t feel sorry for them. They would have taken you back to their base and experimented on you until you died.
But they were human. They didn’t realise, they didn’t understand.
As Daemon lifted Em into the air, his talons ready to rip out the human’s guts, I finally found my voice.
“Stop!” Daemon paused mid-swipe, turning his head to look at me. He was in beast mode. His silver eyes flashed with fury in his crimson face. “Daemon, please, just let her go. She didn’t know what she was doing.”
Daemon turned back to the woman and lifted her higher in the air. Em gurgled, kicked, and clawed at Daemon’s hand around her throat, then she was flying backward through the trees and out of sight. I didn’t hear her land and I knew from the look on Daemon’s face, the gleam in his eyes, that I wasn’t going to get the chance to find out. He stalked toward me, chest heaving, his intention clearly written across his feral face.
I backed up. “Daemon, no. Daemon.” The warning in my tone did nothing to sway him. He was on me before I had the chance to turn and run. As soon as he touched me, I was liquid fire.
Shit, shit! Oh, shit!
“Neeed!”
“Oh, Mother, yes, you certainly do need.” I could feel him, and man did I feel him. My body screamed at me for satisfaction. The throb between my thighs was an incessant berating to my iron will, but I couldn’t give in, I couldn’t let go, not yet, not while my brother was in trouble, but I needed something too, something to take off the edge, and so I did the only thing I could.
I kissed him
I took his mouth, not caring about fangs, or the blood that splattered his skin, and I kissed him with all the passion and abandon that I would have liked to fuck him with. Tongue on tongue and teeth clashing, no coming up for air. He gave as good as he got, his body the only anchor as mine melted and my mind fragmented.
When he finally pulled away I watched the silver bleed out of his eyes and the crimson tinge recede from his skin. He watched me with his unseeing gaze, his thundering heartbeat slowing to match mine.
He dropped me back onto my feet and took a step back.
“What the hell were you thinking, running away?”
“You came for me.”
He shook his head, a low rumble emanating from his chest, before pinning me with his impassive gaze, that today managed to look pretty accusatory.
I finally acknowledged the body parts that littered the ground. “Why did you have to kill them?”
“Would you rather I have let them take you?”
Good point, but… “It wasn’t their fault. All they see when they look at me is a monster.”
“All any human sees when they look at a Shadowlander is a monster. They would have dragged you off and experimented on you, and you wouldn’t have been the first.” He snorted in disgust. “And they call us monsters.”
“Not me. I don’t see monsters when I look at you. Well, aside from when you go all grrr. And Avery and Jiva, you all look pretty human to me.”
Daemon’s lips twisted and he turned away. “That’s because you’re not human! Dammit, woman, I’d have thought you’d have figured that out by now. Every human that we take in can see us for what we are, the rest…” He shrugged. “They’re not our problem.”
What was he saying? “I don’t understand.”
“Not all humans are human. The veil that was between our worlds wasn’t impregnable, and some of my kind liked to take forays into your world. Let’s just say not every gene pool is pure human. Some humans belong with us, others will never see, and some will see all too much.”
“So I have Shadowlander in my blood?”
Daemon snorted. “I wish it were that simple. We don’t have time for this.” He began to stride off.
“Wait! I have to find my brother.”
He paused and turned his head to offer me his profile. “And I have to come with you.”
CLAY
In the pallet consisting of magnificent blues and purples, was a faraway light Clay couldn’t look directly at.
The sun.
Everyone at Shelter knew about the sun—had longed to see it, to feel its warmth on their skin—from the stories they’d heard about it. Clay himself had fantasised about it many times, conjuring many scenarios featuring him and Blake basking in the rays. He couldn’t feel much of the legendary warmth from it in the crisp and fresh air blowing around him, but it didn’t stop his sudden rise of joy. Never in his life would he have imagined he would see the sun, or even a sky as beautiful as the one above, or the scene before him. His breath was well and truly taken away.
This place, Saul, was made up of mountains in a ring, surrounding a sprawling collection of huge glass towers, gleaming and intimidating. Some were cylindrical, some pointed. The highest of them all was a huge rectangular structure with a horizontal shape at the top—resembling the letter “T.”
The east of the land was a vast expanse of dark blue that never seemed to end.
The ocean.
It was another thing he’d read about and always wanted to see, resigning the idea to dreams. Yet there it was, stretching out into infinity.
There were lifts moving up and down the outside of the buildings. How in the Mother’s name did that work? How did these people build these glass towers? Below he saw screens with images scrolling across them. He was too high up to make out exactly what they were.
A machine came floating up from the bowels of the glass jungle. It was egg-shaped, sleek and black with diamond-shaped windows. Planes had engines; this had nothing of the sort. It flew off in the direction of the ocean without a sound.
This place, this place…
How did it all work? If he had the time he’d poke around, take it all apart, and put it back together just to see how it all ticked. Just think how this technology could help Shelter! Maybe if he explained their predicament to whoever was in charge he could get some aid. He glanced at his escorts, their faces devoid of emotion, their demeanours glacial, and doubted his plan. Would these beings even care about a bunch of humans locked in a dying pocket of reality?
They flew down to what Clay assumed, judging by what he saw, was the second biggest tower. It was one of the cylindrical ones with a pointed needle thing at the top. At the needle’s tip was a blinking red light.
The front of the tower opened up, huge jaws of a glassy beast, revealing a dark vastness waiting to swallow them.
“You and your dragon will wait here,” the male leader of the winged folk said.
“What’s in there?” Clay asked.
“Processing.”
Clay nodded, swallowing. “So we just fly in there?”
“Yes. Talia and I will guide you in.”
Clay looked to see a blonde-haired winged woman to his left, her skin alabaster. “My name’s Clay, and this is Pearl.” He patted the dragon’s neck.
Talia blinked and Clay was certain he caught a flash of emotion in her light blue eyes.
Clay turned to the man. “And you are?”
The man’s brow furrowed slightly. “Hezekiah. Please comply with our orders.”
Clay exhaled and leaned into Pearl. “Looks like we’re gonna be taking a pit stop in there, Pearl. Yeah, I know, not ideal, but once we get the interrogation out the way we can be off.”
The dragon emitted a low growl. Clay rubbed her back in reassuring strokes. This could be a ploy to get him to comply. Maybe they had no intention of letting him go, but what choice did he have? He was outmanned and on unfamiliar ground. He patted Pearl and held his breath as she went into a glide. The darkness swallowed them, and the glass closed behind him.
Lights sprang to life, revealing a huge chamber made up of one black metal gangway, some stairs, grey walls, and a vast space in the middle of them all—complete with huge shackles.
No…
It was a clean, empty place. There was one door at the top of the stairway leading up to the solitary gangway. Not a window in sight, and the only light came from the tubes all hanging on chains above Clay’s head.
His eyes kept going to the shackles.
“Dismount,” Hezekiah said.
The door opened and about twenty men and women walked in—more winged soldiers clad in black leather.
Clay grit his teeth; Hezekiah’s abrupt tone was beginning to grate on him. He exhaled, reminding himself he was in no position to antagonise these people. He slid off Pearl, landing smoothly on his feet.
His eyes went to the shackles. “Don’t hurt her.”
Talia clocked him looking at the shackles. “Dragons are dangerous creatures.”
“And yet she allows me to ride her. Come on, you know she isn’t dangerous.”
Hezekiah moved around Pearl as a man and a woman came down the stairs.
Talia continued to speak. “Dragons in our airspace are a risk to us. We must take appropriate steps.”
He didn’t buy it. “You don’t seem afraid,” Clay said.
“I’m not afraid, merely following protocol.”
A rattle of chains as a huge shackle was clamped down over Pearl’s snout before she could take in what was happening to her. The winged folk moved in blur of speed, making Clay’s eyes spin.
“No!” He moved toward her, but Talia was on him before he could take more than two steps. Gripping his shoulders, she held him in place. She was inhumanly strong, her grip like granite. He struggled against her, looking around her to try and see his friend.
Pearl’s roars were muffled as she struggled against Hezekiah and his cohorts. Her legs were soon bound, and her wings in a painful-looking grip, stuck together like a moth pinned to wood.
“Let her go! What is wrong with you people? Do you enjoy hurting other creatures?”
“It’s protocol, but I can see it distresses you, and for that I apologise. The sooner we can determine that you’re not a threat, the sooner you may have your dragon back.”
Clay looked into her eyes. Her auburn hair fell around her pale face in soft curls. “You will comply,” she said.
Clay was crippled by his own helplessness. He loathed having to submit, but he knew when he was beaten. These people seemed to have no compassion and begging would be a waste of breath.
“Compliance is the wisest decision,” Talia said, as if reading his mind.
The way she looked at him, like he was some fascinating specimen, unnerved him. It reminded him of the way Simon looked at the potions he made—scrutinising, probing. He missed the alchemist, and Sarah, and all of the quirks of home.
Talia let go of his shoulders. “Come with me, human.”
His shoulders sagged. “Lead the way,” he said.
ASH
“Dammit!” I stood with my hands on my hips, staring at the pink sky in the distance. The pink sky that would have been above us had I managed to keep hold of True.
“There’s a rest stop up ahead.” Daemon carried on walking, his long strides eating up the distance so I had to practically run to keep up.
I was dead on my feet and my eyes were doing that gritty thing that told me it was time to close them. I could eat a bean, but I didn’t want to waste them. Who knew how much longer the Shadowlands would keep us prisoner.
“So how far is it?” I asked.
“A day’s trek, maybe more if the terrain shifts. If we start fresh after a rest, we’ll be able to move faster.” His tone was clipped, almost as if he was angry with me, which was kind of a contradiction to his greeting an hour or so ago. To be honest, his attitude was getting on my tits. No one had forced him to come after me. Sure, I was grateful, but not grateful enough to take his crap.
“We’d be able to move a lot faster if you’d brought Calypso,” I bit back.
“Yes we would be.”
Was that it? “So why didn’t you bring her?” I pressed.
Daemon came to a halt and I almost barrelled into him. “Here,” he said.
I glanced about and saw nothing but trees and soil and brush, but then Daemon side-stepped, and vanished.
Ah, another one of those hidden caverns—like the one where we’d met the skeletal guy in who’d offered to share his meal in exchange for protection. I stepped forward and then took a side step to find myself in a cave similar to the one we’d stayed in before. Except this time there was no fire and no skeletal guy. There were two wall sconces that glowed dimly in the gloom, lit by some otherworldly light.
Daemon was walking about, scoping out the place no doubt, and acting like I wasn’t even there. I let him do his thing. It was chilly in the cave and gooseflesh broke out on my arms. I hugged myself and wished for a fire. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Daemon growled and I tensed. “I don’t have to answer to you.”
Anger, my faithful companion, jumped out of its box. “Well fuck you too! Why don’t you just go back, then? Fucksake, I’m just trying to make conversation.”
He advanced on me and my anger deflated, leaving me cold with fear and very aware of how vulnerable I was, out here all alone with a Shadowlander who liked to let his beast out to play just for fun.
“You think I want to be out here, traipsing about on a fool’s quest? I’d go back in a heartbeat if I could be sure you wouldn’t get your arse in trouble and summon me back here in less than an hour!”
I stared at him in dawning comprehension. Summoned? I had summoned him? Like when I’d been at Shelter—I’d called him to me and he’d come. My heart sank. I’d thought he’d come to save me of his own free will. I’d never imagined that... Oh, Mother! Was I somehow controlling him?
The rage etched on his beautiful face was answer enough.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.” My voice quivered and some of the rage bled out of his face.
“And you weren’t supposed to.” He stepped away, running a hand over his face. “I know you’re not doing it deliberately, but...”
“You didn’t want me to know in case I used it against you.”
He sighed and suddenly it all clicked into place. He had been free, as free as he could be with the moon as his master. But the moon wasn’t a sentient being able to manipulate, so the moon he could tolerate, but I was human, I was a threat. A threat like Brialla, the woman who had tortured, raped, and controlled him for years.
“I’m sorry, I really am, but I’m not Brialla. I would never use you like that.”
He rushed me, picking me off my feet and slamming me into the wall so hard my head spun and I saw stars. I blinked to clear my vision and was confronted with a mask of rage.
“Do not say that name. Never say that name.” His tone was deadly soft.
I nodded, unable to speak through the pulse pounding in my throat.
Once again his anger abated as quickly as it has risen, his eyes widened a fraction and he dropped me, taking two steps back.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I rolled my shoulder, stomach quivering, but I plastered a smile on my face. “I’m good. At least you didn’t go into beast mode.”
He stilled his jaw, tensing. What? What had I said?
“Beast mode?” His voice was clipped.
Shit! “Um... sorry?”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s just been a long time since someone had the guts to say that to my face.”
“Probably because you spend most of your time locked in your lair.”
Once again that jaw tick.
What was wrong with me? Why was I antagonising him?
“It’s safer that way,” he said.
“You don’t like it, do you? Being in that form, so why did you turn before coming? The full moon isn’t for another day.”
“You summoned that part of me.”
Oh, Mother! I brought the beast out in him and not in a nice way.
“I sensed your distress.”
My distress... shit! Ryder!
Ryder was dead.
The pain hit me again, fresh, and sharp.
“There it is again. What is it?” He moved toward me, one large hand held out ready to catch me, and I realised I’d stumbled forward, suddenly weak with the need to be held.
I reached for his hand, grabbing it with both of my own, using him as a crutch as the grief washed over me.
I cleared my throat. “My friend is dead.”
