by A. K. Koonce
His angled features curve up in a delighted smile toward the morning sky that I was just worshiping a moment earlier. “Always celebrating too soon, love.”
The pain shooting through my arm and my ribs intensify and I suppress a groan. It’s obvious I’m Dr. Thierry’s most recurring patient. She’ll be horrified when I ask her to take a look at my arm that might possibly be fractured. My injuries never seem to cross Declan’s mind. He’s so used to his natural healing abilities and those of the Wandering Warrior’s, he clearly hasn’t got a clue how fatally human I am.
“I have a proposal for you,” Declan tells me, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, his chest rising and falling minimally.
All thoughts of my arm and ribs push from my mind immediately. A proposal? His words are so serious I suddenly want to run away again. I can count the number of times Declan has been serious with me and that number doesn’t even fill one hand.
“I’m listening.”
An intake of breath, loud and heavy, passes his lips like he’s gathering the courage to say something. I try to keep a bored expression in my features but my mind is reeling with each second that ticks by.
“I was hoping you’d stop working at the clinic after our training each day.” He pauses to meet my eyes before continuing. My brows rise at his choice of topic. “If you were to be my understudy, Raske would be more apt to take you more seriously and you would, in turn, get what you wanted. On a smaller scale, of course, there are still some restrictions.” He’s looking back at the few scattered clouds filling the sky again and I can see him visibly swallow, his Adam’s apple struggling to accommodate such a calm task.
Lying on my side, my mouth opens but then closes just as fast, unsure how to respond. He just offered me what I’ve been pleading for with Raske for months. An understudy. A loophole is what it really is. Why is he offering this to me? Declan could have any member of our community be his understudy and most of them wield unnatural strength that would fare a thousand times better than myself.
“W-Why?” I sputter.
He laughs, a flash of white on display within his perfect smile.
“I mean, of course, I appreciate the offer, but why would you want me? I’d be more work than I’m worth.” Bitter honesty stings my voice.
He rolls onto his side to face me. Crystal-like eyes search my face, a frown shadowing his features. His arm rests under his head and his other hand taps restlessly against his leg.
“Because we’re friends, Fallon.” He takes a breath, his prowling eyes travel the length of the thick forest in thought before returning to me. “I know I flirt with you and tease you because you’re one of the few people that tolerate speaking to me, but I mean it when I say we’re friends. At least you are to me. You don’t look at me the way every single person that I pass looks at me. Only Raske has ever shown me kindness, a kindness his son didn’t inherit. I’ve roamed city to city and I’ve been dumped out of every one of them except here. This screwed up society accepts and rejects me all at the same time.” He closes his eyes for a moment. Flinching at his own words, while the pain that he’s kept inside sinks into me.
“But you don’t look at me like they do. Your eyes don’t hold anger or disgust at what I am. I don’t know where you came from, because I’ve been all over and I’ve never met someone that makes me feel—" A hesitancy fills him, seemingly thinking through his feelings. “You make me feel like I’m actually alive.”
Like he’s alive. Something so simple. Like I can see him as a person, not a hybrid, a pike. The derogatory term for his kind is heavy in my mind. There are mystics of all kinds, none are accepted by humans but his race is hunted. The pain he transfers into me radiates and spreads through me as I recall all the times I’ve rolled my eyes or said a snide remark to him. I’m not exactly kind to him. He’s just as lost as I am.
Maybe we all are.
Everyone in this community is here because society couldn’t allow them to be who they are. Because they were tired of changing or hiding who they really were to better bend to the form of those around them. But they still want this hybrid to bend in hopes that he will break. So they can sweep up the pieces and dump them in a corner of their mind that they will revisit with guilty souls but clear minds.
But he won’t.
Swallowing hard, I try to make sense of his confession. “You confuse the hell out of me, Declan,” My words pull a small smile over his lips, “but anyone should be honored to be your understudy. I accept and appreciate your offer,” I say as formally as he originally did.
His smile widens, genuine happiness settles into his smooth features. The sky becomes his focus as he seems absorbed in his thoughts, his smile slips away by the second.
“Really, thank you,” I whisper.
* * *
The transition from clinic assistant to militia understudy happens quickly and with a strange ease. To be honest, I’m forcing it to happen with ease. I follow Declan like a quiet and observant shadow, taking mental notes of details he feeds me; who is in charge of what, what assignments we take care of daily, when search and rescues are scheduled – highlighted mental note for that one – and in general, it isn’t that hard. Declan treats me as an equal. There’s no flirty context in his voice, no lingering glances, no teasing at all. Just one soldier to another.
Kaino, on the other hand, stares at me daily, seemingly confused and frustrated by this subtle change in his routine.
“You want to take her on tomorrow’s search? Someone who hasn’t even had a month’s worth of real training?” Kaino growls, his brows pulled low, shadowing his dark eyes.
I stand in silence at Declan’s side, once again the newcomer in their society. The busy warriors around me glance our way but say nothing as they pack their bags for tomorrow’s trip—well, almost all of them… Luca stops packing and now stands tall with her hands firmly on the curve of her hips, glaring at her brother.
“That is exactly what I want to do, because Private Fiercely isn’t a pedestrian, she’s one of our own. She’s had the training and the knowledge to begin shadowing search expeditions, Sir,” Declan says, holding Kaino’s glaring gaze.
I raise my chin, folding my hands neatly behind my back, trying to find the confidence and respect Ky always seemed to have.
A small, distant part of me wants to brush away this hostility and simply say I will wait until Kaino believes I’m ready, but the painful need to find Asher is stronger. I’m not the person I was a year ago and I will not cower from the things I deserve. I deserve to be included in my own life.
The two of them stare in silence for a few seconds, careful not to tip the balance of peace and power that this society teeters on. Declan raises his hand, his palm clasping Kaino’s shoulder, a pleading look touching the hybrid’s eyes. His hand rests against Kaino’s skin for mere seconds before the commander’s look turns from annoyed to aggressive, as he jerks away from Declan’s simple touch. Kaino’s eyes glimmer in the sunlight, turning a lighter shade of amber, almost gold before he blinks it away, pushing the animal back into the cage it’s always kept in. A cage forced so tightly closed the bars are ready to break…
“If something happens to her,” Kaino voice is low and promising as he sizes Declan up from head to toe, “I’ll execute you myself, on my father’s orders.” He clenches his jaw shut and storms away, into the forest, the wolf returning to its den.
Declan releases a long breath and turns to me with a wide smile, the boy-like grin that I haven’t seen in days on display.
“He really needs to release all that pent up hostility,” he says, nudging me with his elbow. “Pack your bag, love, don’t want to miss this possibly once in a lifetime opportunity.”
I nod, excitement pooling in my chest, finally leaving this haven and doing something instead of the eternal waiting I’ve grown so used to.
Once in a lifetime opportunity.
He’s right. If anything, and I do mean anything, goes wrong tomorr
ow, I won’t be given a second chance. So, I’ll have to make the day trip count. Leave no rock unturned… Considering I’ll be hunting a hybrid who lived the majority of his life under a refrigerator, our trip will definitely be harder than it seems.
Chapter Five
The Red Hills
The following morning, just before the sun was touching the horizon, Declan led a small group along the rocky shore of the Emerald Ocean, through the thick, familiar forest and to a place called the Red Hills.
Declan, Luca, a wolf descendant named Shane, and I stand on the outskirts of the forest. Jagged red-gray mountains etch the sky in front of us, blocking out the morning sun. A strange fog of crimson casts along the dips and crevices of the area, seemingly reaching out to us.
My stomach drops as my mind processes where we are heading—standing literally at rock bottom— the only place to go is up, into the cursed Red Hills.
The exhausted part of me wishes I would have listened to Kaino and stayed at camp, while the determined part of me is ready to keep moving.
Luca adjusts her pack, which matches my own, heavy but filled only with necessities. Shane takes a swig of water from his silver canteen, assessing the mountains, appearing to draw a route in his mind’s eye.
“Luca, you and Shane take the direct route, Fallon and I will search the northern valleys and meet you on the other side, past Pike’s Peak. We need to be across by midday to make our return by nightfall. We don’t want to be in this area after sundown.”
Pike’s Peak.
The term strikes hard against my sternum, nearly knocking the air out of me. My eyes are wide, my mind reeling, barely hearing the rest of his instructions.
The clear sky appears endless as I watch Luca and Shane leave, crossing the dry plains toward the mountains. I stand unmoving, my eyes fixed on the sharp peaks touching the sky, shadowing the land around them.
What’s hiding in the shadows of Pike’s Peak? The few remaining vampires of this world? If the whispers of my camp were true then, yes, we’re trailing the cursed cliffs of the hidden community of vampires...
“You coming?” Declan asks, looking back at me a few feet away.
I nod, pushing my thoughts from my mind, taking long steps to catch up to him, I turn my head, still watching Luca’s figure grow smaller and smaller against the mountains. My boot catches on something, roughly pulling me to the ground. My hands brace my hard landing, my fingers pushing into the dirt, scraping roughly against the dry earth.
Declan stops in his tracks, smirking but offers me his hand. As he pulls me up I glance down at the dead tree branch that’s littering the dirt, catching dry leaves and twigs and what appears to be paper.
Bending down, I pick up the foreign piece of paper, so out of place in nature. My fingers work meticulously to straighten the edges of the crinkly and torn document. Once its edges are smooth my breath leaves my lungs, leaving me gasping and confused.
My face stares back at me.
Against the dirty white paper are my own green eyes looking up at me, my dark hair pulled high and neatly atop my head, a broad smile stretched across my tan face.
It’s my school ID photo, laying out here in the desert, ready to blow into the mountains and never be seen again.
Along the bottom of the page in stark bold letters are the words:
MISSING:
FALLON FIERCELY
LAST SEEN HEADED WEST
APPROACH WITH CAUTION
ANY INFORMATION SHOULD BE REPORTED
DIRECTLY TO YOUR
CONGRESSMAN, AYDEN THOMAS
Ayden.
His name stands out like the guiding moonlight in the clear night sky. Is he searching for me?
Of course he is.
How does he even know I never returned?
“Caution? What the hell does that mean?” Declan’s pale blonde hair brushes against my temple as he scans over the paper.
“I don’t know.”
I do know.
It means Asher.
My mind rewords the true meaning in an instant: Caution, the pike that she was last seen with isn’t very well liked and is seen as a bloodthirsty killer. Could have just been blunt, Ayden.
“Have you ever seen this before?” I ask, leaning away a little to look at him.
He pauses, searching my eyes.
“Yes.”
“Where? How many?”
Declan exhales a long breath, raising his brows as he thinks. His slowness to respond makes the anticipation grow to a hulking mass in my chest.
“I don’t know, a hundred, maybe two hundred copies scattered through the woods, throughout neighboring villages, the desert planes stretching between here and the Capitol.”
“Two. Hundred. Copies.” I take a deep breath, ready to blow out every word I know to try to express my anger. “You passed two hundred copies of my grubby face thrown throughout the world like confetti and you didn’t think to notify me? Maybe the missing person herself might want to know about this little bit of information.”
“I-"
“You, what?” I yell, balancing on the toes of my black boots to get in his face. It doesn’t work, he still towers over me.
“I was instructed not to,” he says in an apprehensive voice, looking away from me, his eyes narrowing toward the mountain line.
I stumble on my feet, knocked back down to my small stature. Why would he be instructed not to tell me? Did Kaino tell him not to tell me? Why would he do that?
“Why?” The word is a whisper, the only one I can manage to speak.
“Raske wanted to wait. To present you like a prize during the Treaty Celebration.”
“Why?”
His feet shift, his rifle falls pointing toward the dirt, no longer invested in the threats that may surround us.
“Because he wants to use you.” My eyes flash to his face, but he doesn’t look at me. “Everyone is looking for the girl that was stolen by the pike, Fallon. The pike that murdered her family and left nothing but a trail of dust in their wake. Raske wants to present you as an engaged human, uniting the races. A shiny prize that illuminates the oppression that the human society is kept from. Your village, that congressman Ayden, can’t accept and announce your return unless they accept your biracial union, as well. This congressman has spread the word, caused a lot of attention for you and Raske wants to capitalize on it.”
“My union?” I ask, my eyes raging as I stare up at him in shock and anger. He nods hesitantly at my simple question. “My union that doesn’t even exist. Raske is using this nonexistent union to free his people. To crawl out of hiding in the hopes that people like me enough to accept a biracial union that isn’t even real.”
All this time, all this time they’ve taken me in and saved me and cared for me and built me up, just to structure me how they like—to use me.
“When you say it like that, it sounds kind of ridiculous,” he smirks at me, defaulting to sarcasm even when he knows it won’t help. He grows serious as he takes in my fallen features. “Everyone has an angle, love, you just have to make sure not to get hurt on their sharp edges.”
* * *
The fog fills my sight everywhere I turn, tinged with red and filling my lungs like a vapor, clouding my mind. I follow Declan more closely the farther into the mountain’s valley we climb.
The strange fog lingers around us, dancing with our feet as we wade through it, desperate for the other side.
“It’s Crimson Mist. Back in the fifties, when the humans joined the fae and the warlocks in the war defeating the creatures of the night, the warlocks and witches cursed this land where so many of our people lost their lives. They fought and they died, but won.” Declan glances around, sifting his fingers through the wafting red fog. “The human population was severely decreased, but lucky for you, your kind reproduces at an alarming rate, like an infestation really.” I glare at him but he only smirks at me and continues on. “So the warlocks and witches cursed the Red Hills—Pike’
s Peak—deeming that the air will only be clean once all the creatures of the night have been cleansed of this earth.”
I watch the mist swirl around us, Declan’s gray eyes and pale features standing out amongst the thick red atmosphere.
“So they still live?” I ask.
“Of course they do. If you can call being trapped within the very thing that’s killing you living. The Infinity witches cursed them here decades ago.”
I arch an eyebrow at him, confused by his words, but he carries on with the tale.
“It’s said that a few, and by few I mean, three withering, worthless, dying creatures are buried within the Red Hills, the crystal-like material that your sword is made from, is forged directly from the mountain that they’re imprisoned in. Mystics can’t even touch the mountain, it’ll scar their skin just like the sword. The vampire’s abilities are dying out within the darkness.” He turns and continues walking, pulling himself up the red granite and farther into the valley.
I think through his words, a riddle seemingly present within their meaning.
“You’ve met them.”
He stops, kneeling with one boot against the angled incline. His back is rigid, his muscular arms frozen in midair, holding on the rocky edge, ready to pull himself up but he doesn’t.
He jumps down, scattering little rocks to the ground as he lands, staring at me.
“I need you to forget everything that just came out of my mouth,” he says slowly, staring intensely at me as if his life depends on it.
And it does.
If anyone found out that Declan, the pike, had any kind of connection to the vampires, he’d be executed for treason.
“What are their abilities?” I ask, holding his gaze.
“I said forget it,” he repeats.
I raise my chin and square my shoulders. I need this information. More than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire life and he’s going to help me.
“You said you were my friend. I treated you like a friend while you let everyone around me plot and use me like I’m some kind of animal for their harvest. If these-” I pause, realizing how dangerous the idea is that is soaring to life in my mind. “If these vampires can help me find him,” I don’t say his name, I can’t and I just have to hope Declan understands. “You have to tell me, Dec. Please.” I nearly sob, my shaky breath parting the red mist.