by H. D. Gordon
When a voice spoke beside me, I almost jumped out of my skin with surprise. My head whipped to the right to see a pale hand had been extended to me.
“You should kneel for nothing, Rukiya dearest,” said a smooth, familiar voice.
I looked up to see Adriel, his face so lovely that for a moment, I forgot I hated the bastard.
He wiggled his fingers. “Stand up,” he ordered. “We don’t have much time.”
“Go away,” I snapped, though my voice came out duller and more monotone than I’d intended. “You cost me everything, and if I weren’t so tired right now, I’d kill you for it.”
“The Hounds are coming,” he replied, his voice taking on the affection of concern that I had never heard in it before. “They’ll kill you on the spot when they get here, so get up.”
I struck out with my fist, but the Mixbreed dodged the blow easily by simply disappearing and then reappearing on the other side of me. “We don’t have time for this,” he said.
A hundred or so yards away, I heard a voice yell, “She’s over here!” and the answering howls of at least half a dozen Hounds in Wolf form.
“Let them come,” I said. “Leave me be.”
Adriel made a disgusted sound in his throat. “The way they speak about you, Rukiya Moonborn, I expected more… fight.”
“I’ll show you fight if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.”
“Fine,” Adriel said between clenched teeth. “We’ll do this the hard way.”
I had no time to defend myself or even blink before his fangs were sinking into my neck. I raised my hand to punch him, but felt my muscles go slack as absolute ecstasy flooded through me.
When my eyes fluttered open, I looked down to see what the Mixbreed held in his pale hands… and my own hands shot up to my neck…
Where there was no longer a Dog’s collar.
I blinked, unable to believe it. “How?” I asked.
“Yes,” said another familiar voice behind me. I turned on my heels to see Ryker. “How?” he echoed.
Adriel only tipped the Hound a wink and slipped a strong arm around my waist.
Then we were flying through time and space, having vanished into thin air.
When we landed—if that’s what one would call it—I stumbled, and would have fallen flat on my face had Adriel not grabbed and steadied me. My head spun for a few seconds before I could orient myself, and when I did, I realized I had no idea where the hell we were.
Trees so tall I could not see the tops towered over us, the air thick with the clean scent of greenery. Early morning light filtered down in dapples of gold, and the clicks, chirps, and calls of the insects and forest creatures created a soft melody of sound. My strong nose told me there was a fresh water source nearby, and for whatever reason, I felt so blessedly small standing in the middle of it as I reached up and touched the place on my throat where that collar had always been.
“Welcome to Philomena, Rukiya,” Adriel said, and though his voice had the same smooth cadence, there was something softer in it now, as if in reverence for the beauty around us. “We’ll have to travel the rest of the way on foot, but this is a safe place… a free place.”
My knees gave out beneath me with no warning, and I sank to the soft, plush floor of the forest, my hands gripping my thighs, my mind too shocked to catch up.
To add to my utter amazement, Adriel dropped to his knees in front of me, heedless of his fine slacks, and took my shoulders gently into his hands. “You’re free,” he whispered… and then said it again… and again.
At some point, it sank in, and my breath hitched in my throat. I covered my dirty face with my blood stained hands a millisecond before silent tears began to fall. Then the silent tears turned to sobs—shoulder-shaking, gut-wrenching sobs, and Adriel sat silently before me until I was able to gather myself.
Once I did, I felt like a dumbass. I sniffed, swiped a hand under my nose and beneath my eyes, and shot him a warning look. “You better not tell anyone you saw me do that,” I choked out. “Or I’ll kick your ass.”
Astonishingly, he laughed, and it made his beautiful face all the more lovely. He held up a pale hand, as though he were taking an oath. “I won’t tell a soul,” he promised. Then added, “I mean, if I ever cried like a baby I definitely wouldn’t want anyone to know, either, so I get it.” He winked. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
My jaw dropped, and I gave his shoulder a little shove as I narrowed my eyes at him. “Where are we?” I asked.
Adriel’s scarlet eyes twinkled, and a pointed canine poked out and bit into his lower lip. “This is my home. It’s called Philomena.”
I nodded slowly. “But where are we?”
“Philomena sits between realms.”
I could feel my face slowly drain of color, a fear creeping into me that one would think I’d be beyond.
Adriel noticed my shift, and he stood in a smooth motion, moving away. “You shouldn’t believe everything you’ve heard about my kind,” he said. “It’s ignorant.”
Though he was right, I was offended. “I’m a slave,” I snapped. “What do you expect?”
His red eyes blazed as they looked at me. “Were,” he said. “You were a slave… Now, do you want to stand there yapping, or should we go see an old friend of yours? She hasn’t stopped pestering me about you since I freed her months ago. I see why you two got along.”
“Goldie,” I gasped. “You’re taking me to see Goldie?”
The Mixbreed turned back to look at me, his body preternaturally still and predatory. “Only if that’s where you wish to go, Rukiya dearest,” he said. “I told you, you’re free. Your choices are your own.”
I hurried after him, fighting back more stupid tears. “You’re going to explain all of this to me, right?”
He flashed me a look from the corner of his red eyes. “Do I have a choice in the matter?”
I considered. “No, not really.”
He sighed, and through the perfection that was his physical form, for the first time since I’d met him, I could see the fatigue he was trying to hide, and it made me wonder what else he was hiding.
“How about I let Goldie fill you in?” he said. “We’ll be there by sundown if we keep moving.”
I almost asked why he couldn’t just magic us there, or whatever the hell he called it, but another glance confirmed the fatigue I’d glimpsed. Perhaps he was too drained to do so.
“We can rest if you need to,” I said.
This made him pause again and look back at me, amusement tugging up one side of his sensuous mouth. “After the past few days you’ve had, you’re asking me if I need to rest?”
I shrugged. “I won’t tell anyone,” I promised. “If I ever had to rest like a baby I definitely wouldn’t want anyone to know, either, so I get it.” I winked. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Amazing,” he mumbled, and turned around to continue on.
Once again I was running to keep up, my still broken body protesting despite my taunts. “What’s amazing?”
“That you’re still able to laugh at all.”
I swallowed and held my peace the rest of the way, not bothering to tell him that I was only laughing because if I didn’t, I would just keep crying and maybe never stop. Or that the tough façade I was clinging to was supporting the weight of it all by only a thread, dangling me over an abyss of the purest, deepest darkness.
Though I didn’t know him well, and certainly didn’t yet trust him, something told me I didn’t have to say these things to Adriel, that perhaps he was intimately familiar with the mask one wears when pretending to hold it all together, while dangling only by a thread above the void.
According to Adriel, I was free, but so many others still weren’t. Wondering what would become of Kalene, Oren, Ares, and so many others haunted every step I took through the forest, hung over me like a cloud formed solely to soak me.
The collar around my neck was gone, but the weight on my shoulders remai
ned, and I feared I was too broken to carry it all, broken in a way that would never heal the same.
THE END… For now.
Book 2 in The Wolf Wars Trilogy, Moon Broken, coming November 2017.
About the Author
H. D. Gordon is the author of several urban fantasy novels. She is the mother of two amazing daughters, and a lover of kick-ass females, beautiful things, and nerdy t-shirts.
She believes our actions have ripple effects, and in the sacred mission of bringing love and light to the world.
H. D. spends her time with family, eating desserts, and taking strolls by the sea.
She resides in southern New Jersey—which she insists is really quite lovely.
For more information visit:
www.hdgordonbooks.com
Want more from H. D. Gordon?
Continue reading for a sneak peek at Blood Warrior (The Alexa Montgomery Series: Book 1) by H. D. Gordon…
Copyright © 2011 H. D. Gordon
Published by H. D. Gordon Books
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and publisher of this book.
Chapter 1
It wasn’t dead when I found it.
I’m not even sure what drew me to the window in the first place. But I went. I suppose I should have, even could have walked away at that point… let nature take its course. But I didn’t.
Its neck was broken. Its wings outstretched and feathers splayed in a way more peacock than blackbird. I pushed open the window, having almost forgotten its deceitful boundary, though the glass was stained where the two had collided.
And then I tilted, just bent my upper body so I was leaning over it. It was in pain. No, I couldn’t be sure of this, and yet, I was. I think the eyes captured me, held me there until the option of walking away had faded, leaving me with no choice at all.
I backpedaled, reached out a calloused and cracked hand, and grabbed Capote off my desk. Returning to the window, I raised the hardcover.
My hesitation was brief, but present. The bird lay wounded beyond repair. And, somehow, I thought I knew what it wanted, what I would want were I the broken blackbird.
Or maybe I justified certain wants with inferred ones. Either way, it was the right thing. I took no pleasure in watching something suffer. Nor would I let it.
The book fell at exactly the same moment the door opened.
Chapter 2
My mother entered the room, and I reluctantly turned to face her. I had been in a good mood. I didn’t particularly want to change that. But there she stood, and that meant she had a reason. She never visited for a simple chat.
Her eyes flicked briefly to the window. If I hadn’t been watching, I would’ve missed it. She didn’t comment. She didn’t ask about the lone black feather sticking out from under Capote. She just gestured to the bed, and I took a seat.
She carried the makeup in her hand, and I refused to wince as she applied it none too gently to my eye.
“There,” she said, leaning back to examine her work.
I blinked a couple times to clear my vision and went to study myself in the mirror. My black eye was still visibly swollen, but at least the foundation she’d applied covered up some of the bruising. I stared at myself, almost ignoring the fact that I’d become reasonably comfortable with this routine.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
It was all I ever said to her when this happened, and it occurred to me that it was strange to be thanking her for covering up an injury she had caused. Still, I had learned long ago to enjoy these moments with her. These moments when I could almost believe her when she said it was necessary for me to endure the physical pain she inflicted.
“Now go,” she said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Or you’ll be late for school.”
I nodded and grabbed my loaded backpack off its hook as I headed out the door.
“Hey, wait!” my little sister, Nelly, called from upstairs.
I was tempted to shut the door behind me and head off without her, but I knew that would only piss off my mother. I suppose that’s why I was tempted. I felt good this morning, stronger. And I realized much later this probably had something to do with the blackbird.
As it was, my mother shot me a warning look as I stood in the open doorway and waited impatiently for Nelly. A few moments later, she came running down the stairs with her backpack in tow. I rolled my eyes as I took in her usual perfect and prim appearance. Her golden-brown hair hung perfectly straight across her shoulders, and her makeup was light and tasteful. We were both very pretty, but most of the time I couldn’t help but feel mildly jealous of her. I had my reasons. Believe me.
She was wearing a baby-blue button-down blouse and light-colored jeans. I looked down at my wrinkled T-shirt and sweatpants. Mom always got her the good stuff. At least the pants fit me nicely.
“Don’t you look pretty?” I said. “Can we go now?”
This earned another glare from my mother, which I pointedly ignored by pushing the hair that had fallen out of my sloppy ponytail off my face.
Nelly just smiled genuinely and swept past me through the open door. It was childish, but I sighed and rolled my eyes again. Nelly certainly is the diplomatic one. Me? Not so much. Still, I felt bad for making fun of her this morning. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t have to “prepare”—that’s what my mother called it—like I did. And, truth be told, I was glad she didn’t get the same treatment from my mother. Nelly’s more fragile than I am, and I wasn’t sure she could take it.
Just before I closed the door, my mother called out to me. “Alexa—”
“I know, I know,” I said, cutting her off. “Don’t stop until we get there.”
Chapter 3
Nelly waited for me outside the door, and I stepped out onto the porch with her. Letting out a big breath, I steeled myself for the run ahead of us. I glanced at her, and she gave me a sympathetic smile. I smiled back because I couldn’t help it. Nelly is just that way. Her moods tend to be contagious. Also, this was one thing our mother insisted we both do, and it was hard on both of us.
“Ready?” I asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” she replied.
I gave her another smile. It was the same response she gave every day, and I admired her for her optimism. Despite the unfair treatment from our mother, I loved Nelly. She was all I had in this world and the only reason I hadn’t left long ago. Our mother was right about one thing: we needed to stay together. I had to protect Nelly. From what? I was still figuring that one out. I just knew she needed me.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Nelly jumped off the porch and set off at an impressive rate in the direction of our school. I let her get a few paces ahead before jumping off the porch myself and racing after her. She was fast, but I was faster.
I caught up to her, and we kept up pace as we ran down the road that would take us to Levland High School. She grinned and shook her head as I fell into step just behind her. This was another thing our mother insisted on: always keep Nelly in your line of sight.
We didn’t talk much on this run. It was hard enough, with the three-and-a-half mile trip, just to keep up a steady pace. Our heavy backpacks didn’t make it any easier.
It could have been worse, though. Our last school had been six miles from the house and the terrain had been hilly. This road was flat and hard-packed. Thank God for small favors.
My thoughts churned as I ran, and I actually took time to enjoy the scenery around me. We
lived in a small town in Missouri, and springtime was just starting to set in. Another thing I was grateful for. Running in snow sucks.
Inevitably, my mind soared back to the blackbird. It was impossible not to think of, especially since the day seemed to match my good mood. I had done a good thing this morning, a humane thing, and this seemed to fuel me as my feet pounded the dirt road.
Every blooming wildflower lifted their smiling faces at me, rewarding me by wrapping their sweet scent around my body. I felt like Mother Nature was thanking me, trusting I would do the same for her if she were ever suffering. And promising me that kindness in return, should I ever need it.
The sun shone brightly in my eyes, and I was pleased I’d remembered my sunglasses this morning. Glancing over at Nelly told me she hadn’t.
I jogged up beside her, took off the sunglasses, and held them out to her. She shook her head and forced out, “It’s okay, you keep them.” I shook my head and continued holding them out to her. Finally, she took them and put them on, nodding her thanks.
Squinting the rest of the way, I fell back a few paces behind her. It was so ingrained in me to take care of her, even in the smallest of ways, I hadn’t thought twice about handing over the sunglasses.
Finally, I saw the school up ahead and Nelly and I picked up our pace. The sooner we reached it, the sooner we could stop. School buses were pulling in the lot as we reached the entrance. Nelly and I entered the school grounds and leaned against the big oak tree near the school’s entrance. As I watched the students file out of the buses, I couldn’t help but feel a little envious. There was a bus that went right by our house, but our mother insisted that running was essential.
“Bullshit,” I said, still struggling to catch my breath. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a pack of Marlboros and a lighter. I set fire to one as I glared at the students exiting the buses.