by Anna Sanders
A couple of twigs snapped off in the distance, but it was nothing that really startled him. Still, he lowered the sound on his Game Boy in order to listen to the night.
An owl hooted off in the distance. A few bushes rustled with the current of wind. Davie didn’t even look up from his screen. This was the highest score that he’d ever gotten on this game. He couldn’t quit.
The stench came.
Davie stopped his game abruptly and looked around. Now that all of his attention was focused on the area he could definitely detect danger. It thickened the air like a fog, spreading across the trees and stealing the scene.
The sentry made a low whistle into the night, a sign of possible alarm. There was no answering sound, but that didn’t mean that the other sentries were not paying attention.
He stood up slowly from his seat at the ground, using a tree trunk for support. He stuffed his game into his pockets quickly and tentatively took a step toward a nearby clearing.
The snapping twigs and shuffling dirt was now unmistakable.
Davie knew what was coming. Savages.
He turned on his heel in a flash and started to run in the other direction.
Only to meet a knife point directly in his chest.
Shock seized his body as the blade deepened. The culprit pulled their weapon back with a snap as Davie fell to the ground, almost in slow motion.
The murderer was wearing a thickened cloak to obscure his features, but the last thing Davie saw were cold eyes glittering from the recesses of the garb. As death took him he lamented that he couldn’t even take the memory of his attacker into the afterlife.
The daevor cleaned off his wicked dagger with soulless eyes. He stared down at the dying bandit without emotion.
The sentry was of little consequence. Especially when there was an alpha to kill.
With a flourish of his hand, the daevor mentally called into the woods.
Come. Out of the trees.
The savages dragged themselves forward, lurching ghostlike in the gloom of the darkened woods. At least twenty or thirty of them. Grotesque creatures. The daevor narrowed his eyes at them.
But his orders were clear: kill the bandits and their alpha.
Go. Eat your fill of flesh and blood.
The savages went, bloodthirsty yet mostly silent, toward the camp.
THE BANDITS WERE HUNKERED DOWN for the night. They had no reason to suspect that any attack was coming. Nobody guessed that their sentries were all dead—and that they would be next.
When the daevor heard the first screams, he dimly recognized them as the shrieks of children. Pulled by this, he flew above the tower of the trees in one swoop of his massive wings. He advanced until the bandit hold was a moving picture to his gaze.
It was a frenzy. The savages had entered the clearing with swift precision.
Already the ground was stained with spilt blood. The bandits were running in all directions, but the savages had the camp surrounded. Thanks to the predatory tactics of the daevor controlling them the savages were staying focused on the kill in an organized way that they couldn’t manage on their own.
A group of children were huddled back against a tree. They screamed for their parents in horror as the hoard advanced on them. The savages were barely kept in check by three fighters who used their superior speed and agility to try to draw the killers away from the children, but it was failing.
Those who fell did not rise up again.
It was utter chaos. Every time it looked like the bandits were getting a hold off of the hoard the killers would do something unpredictable in the urge for flesh.
A child was dragged from the tree and killed instantly, the tiny contents of its slender body being ripped and spread amongst claws and teeth. Shouts and cries became more urgent. The only option was retreat, there simply weren’t enough trained warriors amongst them.
In the midst of all of the death was the alpha. Her long flowing hair blew around her face as she held her arms back in chanting. She prayed in the light of the destruction, incantations bellowing from the hollow of her chest. Her followers attempted to pull her back, screaming at her to leave.
Once the daevor spotted the alpha, he urged the savages harder.
The wave of dead spilled over the attempted hold off of the brave warriors and soon there was nothing to hold them back from devouring all in their path. A sea of blood remained in their wake.
The alpha was eventually pulled away by frantic hands. Those remaining had gotten to what transportation they could and were literally stuffing themselves into the vans and trailers. The bandits picked their alpha up off of her feet and shoved her into a nearby car, then they all sped off into the night.
The daevor would have lamented that he did not kill enough of the pack, but what was left was more than satisfactory. He watched as the savages stopped trying to chase the cars and contented themselves by lapping up the remaining flesh and blood on the grass floor.
Their commander landed amongst them without hesitation. He walked around the camp, looking for anyone remaining who did not leave their tents or campers. No. No survivors stuck around. The daevor stared off into the night, ready to follow the bandits.
This mission might take a few days, but the pack would have to stop somewhere eventually. And when they did, he would be there again to finish off what he’d started.
CHAPTER 20
GETTING WINX BACK TO THE house was too slow with her injuries. She didn’t want to be flown by Genevieve, and Keaton supposed that running would be far too vigorous for her. But the slow progress was pissing Stori off.
“He threatened our pack! We must return to them! Don’t you get it? Ottanu, our family… they aren’t safe!”
“They’ve never been safe,” Keaton growled, taking over the chore of holding onto Winx. “What could he possibly do to them without Tipping or the rest of his guard?”
“Don’t be stupid!” Stori shouted. “If this is his area, do you really think that he doesn’t have other daevors in his employ? He can easily get to them and have our family in tatters before we even make it to the car!”
Nobody argued with this. But Genevieve did look to Tipping. “Does your master have a large army?” He nodded. “Where are they?”
“In multiple places,” he answered in a monotone.
Stori drove her point home. “Does he have reinforcements here besides you and the leftover six in the cabin?
“Yes.”
“Then that settles it!” Stori turned to Winx. “Where are your car keys? We need to get back to Gunnison.”
“Nobody is driving my car,” Winx answered blearily.
“You are not driving your car!” Stori shouted. “Now tell me where they are!”
Winx did not like being talked to in such a manner. It upset her. So did the idea of someone driving her car. However, she pointed at her pocket without another word.
Stori reached into Winx’s pants pocket, found the keys to the car, then sped away from them all with a burst of speed that made the very trail come alive. Keaton continued to slowly trudge along with Winx, highly worried about her.
“It would be ideal if you could get some rest,” Keaton said. “But in light of all of this, I don’t think…”
“I’ll be fine,” Winx muttered. “She’s right, I guess. We do have to go. Chavez knows where we are. He can heal himself. He won’t have to wait around, like I do.”
“I am not sure how Ottanu will receive us,” Keaton said.
“Hopefully with open arms. We are vulnerable right now.”
“At least we have Tipping,” Genevieve said, giving a look at the now unshackled daevor.
Winx glared at him. “I do not trust him. He works for Esteban.”
Genevieve frowned in disapproval. “I don’t think Esteban inspired a lot of loyalty out of him. Just labor.”
“He just stood there while I was beaten. We are of the same clan. And he did nothing.”
Tipping didn’t s
ay anything or return her look.
“Enough,” Keaton interrupted. “Tipping, are you going to help us or hinder us?”
Tipping’s voice was still monotone. “I will help in any way I can.”
“There. You see? We don’t have to worry about it until later. Now both of you shut up and focus on getting off of this trail.”
The four continued to trudge along. It took a while to reach the end of the trail, but when they finally saw the road, Winx breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t have much energy to exert. Having Keaton’s arm around her was a relief, but there wasn’t a spot of her, back or front, that wasn’t aching.
When they reached the road, Keaton sat Winx onto the ground. She landed with a thud and cry. He sat beside her, distress etched all over his features, holding her hand.
“I want to thank you,” she told him.
“No problem,” Keaton said. “I’ll carry you anywhere.”
“Not just for that. For letting me kill one of my sister’s killers.”
It took Keaton a minute before he caught on. “That savage…?”
“Yes. Turns out you were right. This was my problem all along.”
AS KEATON DROVE, HE DID his best to concentrate on the road. Stori was beside him, helping him navigate. Behind him on the driver’s side was Winx, her head leaned back against the seat as she slept. In the middle was Genevieve, keeping the daevors separated.
No one was in much of a talking mood, and before long, Keaton found himself turning up the radio to have anything else to listen to but his thoughts. The sun had already began to rise, and early morning was making the roads ahead clearer.
After a lot of aggressive driving, Gunnison was about twenty minutes away, and clear roads led them right into the paradise of their forest.
Since they had been gone, a freshly-cooled blanket of snow had laid itself over the lands. Everything was a chilly, frothy white. The dark skies were mirrored in clear, icy waters. The trees were bare and decorated with icicles.
They arrived at the Gunnison National Forest with foreboding. The smell of their pack was not caught by the Bandits. They ached to rush to find Ottanu, but the lixyn and daevors held them back.
“Archie and I can fly,” said Genevieve, referring to her and Tipping. “Why doesn’t Stori hurry to find her mate, and Keaton, you walk with Winx?”
Stori’s eagerness to find Ottanu overtook her, and she sprinted from them quickly.
Genevieve and Tipping unleashed their wings and flew above the trees, doing their best to keep up with Stori’s superior speed.
That left Keaton and Winx. They walked side-by-side. Winx still needed some support, and Keaton was happy to oblige by holding her arm and guiding her through the deep untouched patches of snow. Winx felt completely drained, as if she hadn’t rested at all. Her body protested every movement she made, and it became apparent that sitting rather than walking would be best for her.
“I feel useless,” she confided in him, sitting on a felled tree trunk.
“Don’t. You did a lot for us back there.”
“Like what?”
“You kept us unseen. And you kept the savage from ripping someone apart when Archibald was knocked down.”
“I got caught. And I got beaten.”
He sighed. “If you want to look at it that way, Winx, go right ahead.”
They quieted down. The only sounds in the hush of the scenery was that of frosty nature, snow melting lazily from tree branches, and icicles crashing down from above.
“I’m sorry,” Winx said after a few minutes. “I know that I discourage you when I get cynical. But it’s my nature.”
“Yeah. Nobody can argue that.”
“But you still like me,” Winx blurted. “I cannot seem to help myself.”
“When were you going to tell me that?”
“Should I have told you, or was it better finding out on your own?”
“I don’t know. I just wonder sometimes how relationships pan out when one of the party isn’t psychic.”
“Is this a relationship?”
“Not really, no. But I still wonder. Would you have told me by flirting? Or buying me flowers? Would you have tried to approach me with compliments and deep, lingering looks?”
Keaton didn’t answer. The conversation wasn’t distracting him from their dire state, but it was calming him down a bit.
“Maybe you would have asked me out on a proper date. And if there weren’t savages to fight, you could have tried to kiss me. Then you’d call me because you couldn’t wait to hear the sound of my voice again. And upon agreeing to be exclusive, you would hold my hand and call me your girl.”
Keaton reared back with a perplexed grimace. “Would you have liked any of that?”
She took a minute. “No. I would have hated it. I probably would have gotten as far away from you as possible. I hate flowers; they’re an empty gesture. And I cannot take romance seriously. I worked at a place where everything was fake. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to believe in any of it. Everyone does everything to get laid.”
Keaton’s features went grim. For a minute, he’d thought he was making some headway. “I should have known that.”
Winx obviously noticed his deflation. “Even if I didn’t guess at your feelings, this isn’t a case of regular circumstances. We have battles to fight. There are madmen trying to kill me. I don’t have time to be courted.”
“And that is why I wasn’t planning on telling you any of it.” He gave her a look from the corner of his eye. “So. There is no universe where you might find me attractive?”
“I didn’t say I don’t find you attractive.”
His hope elated once more. “Wait. Really?”
“Of course you’re attractive. You’re a young, handsome, strong man. You get looks everywhere you go. I think that you already know that you’re attractive. I’m just a girl. I am as weak to the pull of a hot guy as any of them. Besides, after all of the old codgers who frequented my club back in L.A, you’re definitely an improvement.”
Well, she was stacking him up against old perverts, but did he care? Winx was actually complimenting him. It felt good. He stood up a little taller.
“So I do have a chance,” he finalized.
Winx actually cracked a smile. She turned her attention to balancing better on the trunk.
Keaton put his fingers to his lips and released three shrill whistles. They pierced in an echo in the quiet glen.
“What are you doing?” Winx asked.
“Checking on Stori.”
He waited. About ten seconds later, a whistle echoed back.
“Does that mean she found them?” Winx asked.
“No. It means they moved. She’s searching for a trail.”
“They moved? Why would they do that?”
“The pack moves at least once every few weeks. The only reason they had been in that same spot for a while was because they felt safe. You and Genevieve brought a sense of security about the place. When we left, I imagine that Ottanu packed up as quickly as possible.”
“Hmm. Maybe that means Esteban did not find them?”
“We can only hope so. But Stori should have found her by now,” Keaton growled in the quiet, mostly to himself. “Ottanu wouldn’t have moved too far away, not without giving her mate a clue or two.”
“Unless she was mad at her,” Winx interjected into his thoughts.
“Even so. Ottanu has an obligation to her pack. She would have planned ahead. She knew that we were returning, even if she were angry with us.”
They quieted once more. Winx tried to focus on the chill air breathing across her skin, which oddly felt nicer than she would have imagined. Her bruised visage ached with the steady burn of cold wind, but it felt better than the automated heating system of her car. She stared up at the sky, which was a wintry gun metal blue. Fluffy clouds promised more snowflakes. Considering she was not entirely used to the season, Winx was surprised how the wintry air agreed
with her. Perhaps knowing it was a temporary change made it easier to enjoy it.
Winx’s leftover energy was disappearing, and the depletion had her wanting to drift to sleep. Even though they were hours away from the wonderfully soft bed that had cushioned her gently as she slept, the tree bark was something that allowed her to not be on her feet. It currently sufficed as primo napping arrangements.
As she was relaxing there, the sky darkened above her. Thinking it was a cloud blocking the already feeble sunlight, Winx tried to ignore it. Until a whooshing sound accompanied the intrusion.
Winx opened her eyes quickly to see the shadow of a lixyn falling toward her.
The outline was male and heading down fast. His white wings blended with the cold sky, and his strong body was impossible to ignore.
Adrenaline surged inside her, and instinct kicked in. Hardcore, instantaneous instinct.
Screaming in a high pitch at the top of her lungs, Winx rolled off of the log and onto the ground. She was still weak, but somehow, she managed to muster a burst of energy and headed for the cover of the trees.
CHAPTER 21
“IT’S HIM!” SHE HOLLERED AT Keaton as she sprinted by.
Alarmed, Keaton looked to where Winx had been searching the skies.
Yup. It was definitely a male lixyn going to land in their clearing. And since the only male lixyn Keaton could think of at the moment was Chavez, he was primed to rip the cryptid apart like a shark attack.
“Get out of here!” Keaton shouted at her. “I’ll stop him!”
She was already in the cover of the trees.
As his fangs and claws sprouted, Keaton uttered an eerie growl and launched himself toward the intruder. The lixyn was close enough to the ground that this was a danger. Using the tree trunk to dart himself into the air, Keaton tackled the lixyn as he was poising to land. The two of them fell to the ground in a series of grunts and shouts.
Winx was useless. Not only was she not strong enough to help Keaton, she didn’t have her shovel. All she could do was trip over roots in her effort to find cover.