Stryker (Boys of Wynter Book 1)

by Tess Oliver

  Wilder and Flint had positioned themselves in front of the ghouls, but they wouldn't be able to hold them off for long. Maximus and Paygon were in a wrestling match. As tough as Paygon was, he was no match for Maximus. Especially when Maximus was mad.

  "Keep an eye on her, Trex." I rushed past him and had one foot on the dock when his hand, shrouded in the same black gossamer as his face, touched my arm.

  His voice was low and hard to hear over the snarling growls of my pack mates. "The fire. Take the torches off the dock."

  I looked at him as if I'd be able to understand him better but was quickly reminded that his expression and his mouth were shielded from view. "I don't understand."

  "Few know this but the ghouls are afraid of fire."

  I nodded. "Thanks for the tip. And thanks for remembering my birthday." His wool shrouded head titled sideways as if my second comment had confused him. Not surprising since it had been many years since he had wished me happy birthday.

  I jumped on the dock and grabbed three torches. The flames were not a normal red and gold, like the flames in a fireplace or at the tip of a candle. The flames in the underworld were green like the deepest part of the ocean. The atmosphere gave them their ghastly glow, but they were still hot enough to burn flesh.

  The long sea green flames flowed back, sizzling the hair on my forearms as I raced to Flint and Wilder. They were snapping at the ghouls' ankles, but they were severely outnumbered. Just before I reached them, the yellow, razor sharp teeth of a ghoul flashed in the darkness as the flesh eater's mouth headed for Flint's tail.

  "Flint! Watch out." Flint circled around, pulling his tail out of the way. The ghoul lunged at him, but I shoved the torch in front of its hideous hollow eyes. It hissed and flailed its arms in front of its face. I pushed the torch closer, and it twirled like a tornado of vapor and flew off.

  "You take these." Flint caught one in his jaw, and Wilder snared the other between his white teeth.

  "I'll send Maximus up with the third. Paygon is mine."

  Maximus's massive fist had just sent Paygon flying back. He caught himself just before falling into the river.

  I shoved the lit torch in Maximus's hand. "Go help Flint and Wilder."

  Maximus stared in confusion down at the torch in his hand.

  "Trex let me in on the secret. Turns out ghouls aren't big fans of fire."

  Maximus tried to hand the torch back to me. "I'm not done with Paygon."

  I shook my head. "He's mine."

  Maximus twirled the torch through the air once, leaving behind a green halo of smoke. "I've got him twice on the right side. Pretty sure I heard his ribs break, so that's a weak spot."

  "Right side."

  Maximus took off with the torch. I headed toward Paygon. He had recovered from the last blow and looked more than pleased at the change in his opponent. He had always been a fool.

  I plowed straight into him, easily avoiding his fist and jamming my head into his right side. He fell back, and blood gurgled from his thick lips. He torpedoed back toward me with both fists and slammed me hard enough to knock the wind from my lungs. In the few seconds it took me to find my breath again, his fist caught my chin. His metal ring took a dent out of my flesh and blood dripped through my beard and down my chest. His beady eyes focused on the remaining stitches on my wound. He drew his arm back. I spun away from him to avoid his fist, but his arm circled around my neck.

  I kicked my heel back and struck his shin, but he barely flinched. His arm tightened around my throat, cutting off my air. I panicked at first, gouging my fingers into the flesh on his forearm, but it only made him tighten the chokehold. My legs flew out as he flung me around like a rag doll. All the while, he slowly strangled the life out of me. My vision blurred and I felt death pulling at me. I was no match for Paygon's size and strength, but I knew I could outthink him.

  I tried hard to hold on to consciousness as I surveyed my surroundings, looking for a way out of my predicament. And then as my hands began to lose feeling, my arm swung past something hard on his belt. His knife. Paygon carried a jagged hunting knife. I'd seen him use it to cut off wraith claws and clean food from between his teeth. Sometimes, one right after the other. He really was a stupid slob.

  I reached back and wrapped my tingling fingers around the carved bone handle of his knife and yanked it from the leather sheath. I wasn't completely sure what I would hit, but he was an immense target. I was sure I could make it count.

  I swung the knife straight back. His arm fell away as blood dripped over me. Paygon's yell made every creature in the vicinity cower in the shadows. I coughed and gasped for breath, unable to even turn around to see the damage I'd done to my opponent.

  My pack had managed to push the ghouls back farther with their torches, but they were still waiting to attack. Maximus turned back to check on me as my head cleared and my breathing returned to normal. His mouth dropped open. It took a lot to shock Maximus. The ground beneath my feet vibrated as something thudded behind me.

  I turned around. Paygon had dropped to his knees. His hand was pushed over his eye socket in a desperate attempt to stop the flow of blood. The knife blade had gone straight into his eye. Feenix was going to have my head for that.

  A misty, gray drizzle, a result of evaporation from the river, began to fall from the atmosphere. I hadn't given it much thought, mostly because I was trying to decide just how the hell I was going to escape a death sentence now that I'd taken Paygon's eye.

  Maximus yelled something, and I turned back to my pack. The flames on the torches were sputtering out in the heavy drizzle. The ghouls were regaining their momentum. I raced toward them, deciding that Paygon wasn't much of a threat anymore.

  As the last flames fizzled out, the ghouls swept forward with teeth gnashing and slimy drool flying. Ghouls had more solid body substance than wraiths but they just didn't mind that much when you twisted a wrist or shot a bullet in their skull. My mind quickly went to devising a plan to get back to Willow so that the five of us could get back into Wynter and into the mortal world. I'd have to face Feenix eventually but I wanted Willow out first.

  Feenix had other plans. In the blur of our battle with ghouls, I caught a glimpse of Feenix standing staring down at us from the wall surrounding his lair. He'd been watching it all. Suddenly he lifted something out from behind his robes. The thing squirmed in his grasp and as I kicked in the teeth of an especially persistent ghoul I heard Maximus mutter the words 'gagged banshee'. A banshee's cry was deafening and could throw anyone, even a trained Wynter guard off their game but a gagged banshee was way worse. Feenix always kept one or two banshees chained in a cage, their screams silenced with a gag. And when the gag was removed, the scream that had been waiting there and building in intensity while the banshee was gagged, was beyond deafening. It was a sound that could easily be categorized as a powerful weapon.

  My eyes shot across the way to the horses and our saddle bags that held Flint's ear plugs. There was no way to get to them.

  Feenix walked right up to the battle line between the Boys of Wynter and ghouls and yanked off the gag. Every human and creature dropped to their knees and covered their heads in a useless attempt to block the mind-numbing sound. Flint and Wilder writhed on the ground, howling in pain. Their hearing was ten times what it would be in human form. Not much brought Maximus to his knees, but he was curled into a ball, with his back like a protective shell. I couldn't focus enough to push to my feet. All I could think about was Willow twisting in agony at the bow of the ferry.

  The scream slowly withered away as the banshee released all its pent up energy. My head was splitting as I pushed to my feet. My gaze circled to the river and the ferry. Feenix was standing at the end of the dock with Willow in his arms. She struggled to free herself but she was no match for him.

  Feenix stared at me, long and hard. "I hate to lose a good Wynter warrior, but oh well." He pulled Willow's hair back to show the terror in her face. "I haven't had the pleasur
e to fuck her yet, but since you will soon lose your head, I guess she is worth dying for. Seems I'm in for a treat."

  I raced toward Feenix but didn't make it two steps before the ghouls surrounded me, their teeth clacking together to keep me caged between them. They surrounded Maximus, Flint and Wilder next.

  "Catch, take my brother to the nymphs so they can tend to him. Ghouls, take the prisoner to my dungeon and chain him up. He can stay there until I get Vapour's and Cashel's approval to execute him."

  Willow sobbed. "No, I'll go with you without a fight. Let him go."

  "Oh, you'll go without a fight my betrothed. You have no choice. But I'm afraid that won't save Stryker's life."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Willow

  It had been three days since that fateful night when Paygon dragged me off to the underworld. The only good thing was that with all the chaos, Feenix had been too busy to come near me. I'd been thrown into a small room that had a massive pile of pillows in one corner. A table with a water basin for cleaning my hands and face sat under a square hole in the wall that looked out into a long, dark hallway.

  My tray of food sat untouched at the door. I hadn't eaten anything in three days. Death was a much better alternative to a lifetime with Feenix. I only wished it would take less time to starve to death. I'd tried to deny myself water, but I just didn't have that kind of willpower. There was nothing more torturous than being thoroughly parched. The hunger in my stomach was much more bearable, and knowing that Stryker had been chained up and sentenced to death had completely erased my appetite for food . . . and for life. I'd gone from guarded elation to utter despair in the matter of a few days.

  The door lock clicked open, and Trudy, one of Feenix's nymphs, stepped into the room. Trudy and I were close in age, but we had never been good friends in the meadow. She had gone off to serve Feenix at an early age when she realized she had few healing talents. For some of the nymphs, the dark, unpredictable underworld held more appeal and potential for adventure and passion. I could never understand why they thought that but figured it had to do with fantastical rumors that described the underworld as a mysterious, forbidding place, rumors I was sure were circulated by Feenix himself.

  Trudy looked down at the tray of untouched food. "This hunger strike will not win you your freedom, Willow. Once Feenix has made up his mind that he wants something . . ."

  "I'm not starving to win my freedom. I know that's pointless. I'm just looking for an exit."

  It seemed to take her a moment or two to figure out what the heck I meant. Trudy never was terribly astute. One thing was certain, living under Feenix's roof quickly erased a nymph's natural beauty. I remembered a youthful Trudy with gold skin and brilliant turquoise eyes. Now her skin was sallow and uneven in color as if someone had thrown a bleaching chemical at it. And any brilliance in her gaze was long gone. Yet she seemed content.

  Trudy came over to the bed of pillows and brushed a strand of hair off my face. "It would figure that the object of Feenix's desire would be you. You always were considered the finest beauty in the meadow. Most of us have been vying to be Feenix's bride for years, and all this time he's been holding out for you." Her pink lips flattened into an angry line. "You could do worse you know?"

  I shook my head. "No, Trudy, I absolutely could not do worse. I still can't understand how any of you prefer this place to the meadow or any other place on earth for that matter."

  Trudy walked back to the tray and picked it up. "Of course you don't understand. You were one of the talented nymphs. You mother is Odessa." She laughed dryly. "You even have angel's blood. You wouldn't understand how those of us without all those blessings might feel like castoffs or misfits because you've never experienced derision like those of us born without healing talents or exceptional beauty."

  "I wouldn't?" Hunger was making me physically weak, but I still managed to work up enough strength to be angry. "You try having one foot each in two entirely opposite worlds, Trudy. Then you'll know the true meaning of misfit. And as for the healing talents? They are not part of our genetic makeup." I pressed my hand against my chest. "They come from inside. With empathy for other creatures and enough common sense anyone can become a healer."

  Her nose twitched in irritation. "They'll be coming for you shortly. It's almost time." She opened the door.

  "Who will? Time for what?"

  She didn't answer. The door shut behind her.

  Chapter Thirty

  Stryker

  The metal shackles cut into my wrists and ankles as the ghouls me led up the steps from the dungeon. My body had not yet recuperated from Paygon's beating. He was more than a little angry at me for taking out his eye so his brother had kindly offered him several hours alone with me, shackled in my shit hole dungeon cell. He brought along Pet, his torture device. He had been given free reign to beat me with the strict admonishment not to kill me. Feenix wanted that amusement for himself.

  As the ghouls led me down the hallway, I peered into each window hole to look for Willow. I couldn't see her. I had no idea where she was or what had happened to her once I was arrested and dragged down to Feenix's dungeon. I'd spent the last few days imagining an end scenario where I ripped Feenix to shreds just before the executioner's ax came down on my neck. My death was nothing compared to the thought of Willow having to spend the rest of her life with Feenix. I had promised to protect her and I had failed. Letting her down had left me so hollow, I longed for death. My execution couldn't come fast enough.

  The light of the candles surrounding Feenix's throne burned my eyes as I was led into his chamber. A chopping stone had been dragged in, and the massive troll, who was given the charming job of underworld executioner, stood in the corner with his rusted ax.

  I grinned at him as I walked past. "Try to make it in one cut."

  His mouth curled up, revealing more empty space than teeth.

  Feenix's vast chamber was filled with spectators, all eager to watch me die. Most were the kind of vermin we hunted, so watching one of the Boys of Wynter die was as good as it got. The only other execution of one of us had been hundreds of years ago. A Wynter guard named Northam had been purposely letting wraiths go into the mortal world because he hated the human world and wanted to cause havoc. I would be next. Only as far as I was concerned, my only crime had been falling in love.

  I looked around at the nymphs hovering around the dais where Feenix's throne was perched. I saw no sign of Willow. As much as I'd wanted to look at her lovely face one last time before death, I was equally relieved not to see her. It would only make leaving life that much harder, especially knowing that I was leaving her behind with Feenix.

  Paygon entered behind me with his metal rod held securely in his fist. The nymphs had fashioned him a buckskin eye patch.

  I stared straight at him. "See, you should be thanking me. That patch is an improvement. We see less of that ugly face."

  "Even standing over the fucking executioner's block doesn't shut you up." He jammed the stick into my ribs. With hands and feet chained, I fell to my side.

  "For fuck's sake, brother, put away that fucking stick before you take out your other eye." Feenix waved for the ghouls to get me to my feet. As their cold fingers clawed into me and I was propped back onto my feet, several nymphs walked into the room and stopped in front of the throne.

  Feenix pointed to a spot at his feet, and they pushed a nymph forward. She landed hard on the dais and turned quickly away from Feenix's leering grin.

  I'd been beaten and prodded for the past three days, but suddenly I knew what real pain was. Willow's face was pale and thin. The sadness in her expression took the wind out of me. Her wide blue eyes peered around the crowded room and then landed on me. Tears flowed down her ashen cheeks. How badly I wanted to hold her.

  "It was worth it," I told her. "I will take every minute I spent with you to my eternity. It won't matter where I spend it as long as I have that."

  "Very touching," Feenix sneered
. He looked down at Willow and nudged her with his foot, but she refused to look at him. She kept her gaze locked with mine. I wanted nothing more than to be gazing back at her as I died.

  "The nymphs have told me that you refuse to eat," Feenix said. "You will eat or die. It will be your choice."

  Willow still looked only at me. "That choice is easy."

  "Enough of this," Feenix snapped. He unfurled a roll of parchment. "I hereby sentence Stryker, a Wynter guard, to death for severely injuring his superior, Paygon." Feenix dropped the parchment into his lap. "What do you have to say in your defense?"

  "That's easy. Paygon is not my superior in any way. I've met wraiths that are more superior."

  A roll of laughter swept through the crowd. I braced myself for another blow from Pet, but it didn't come.

  Feenix sat forward. "As is required by law, I have gotten approval for the execution from the other two leaders, Vapour and Cashel."

  Loud footsteps thundered through the chamber, and the voices behind me became agitated. Maximus, Flint and Wilder walked forward. "We visited both Vapour and Cashel," Wilder said in a lowered voice. "No luck."

  "If you three have come to speak on his behalf, you know it is not allowed. Pack mates cannot speak for each other."

  "But I can. I'm not part of his pack." Raferty, one of the Boys of Wynter from the pack that worked while we played, and vice versa, stepped forward. We rarely ever saw or spoke to the other pack because logistically speaking it was impossible, but when it came right down to it, we were all part of a much bigger pack.

  Feenix pointed to a place on the floor in front of the throne. "What do you have to say?"

  "Just that in killing Stryker, you will leave his pack one man short and that weakens them. Four guards are needed to do a proper job. They need him, and I ask you to reconsider."