Challa

by Linda Mooney

  “No? Challa—”

  “No…blood line.”

  It took a moment for Challa’s confession to sink in. Tiron grabbed the young woman’s left arm and looked at it. “Thom?”

  “What?”

  “No…blood line,” Challa repeated weakly.

  “Then…shit. I don’t understand,” he admitted. “If there’s no blood line, why is she dying like she is?”

  DeGrassi’s phone rang again. It was Jebaral checking up on Challa, and letting them know Sarah and Simolif had arrived in Tumbril Harbor. “Any change?”

  “She’s awake,” DeGrassi told him. “But what she’s saying doesn’t make sense.”

  “What is she saying?” Jebaral asked.

  “She’s saying she and a man named Compton had sex, and they both orgasmed, but she didn’t get a blood line. It has Roni and I both stumped.”

  There was a moment of silence over the phone as Jebaral absorbed the news. The Ruinos man’s next question completely threw DeGrassi for a loop. “Did she make love to him as her true self?”

  “What?”

  “Ask her.”

  DeGrassi looked over at his wife. “Jeb wants you to ask her if she made love as her true self.”

  Tiron bent over the nearly unconscious woman. “Challa? Challa, when you made love to Compton, did you do it as your true self?”

  Challa’s response was soft but clear. “No.”

  “She said no,” DeGrassi relayed on the phone.

  “That’s why,” Jebaral explained. “The first time Simolif made love to Sarah, they both orgasmed, but because he remained in his human form, he didn’t get a blood line. She has to make love as Ruinos or the line won’t form. But all the other signs are there,” he added.

  DeGrassi gave the news to his wife. “Make her understand he is her blood mate, but because she wasn’t her true self when they made love, that’s why she doesn’t have the blood line.”

  Tiron gave her another little shake. “Did you hear that, Challa? Do you understand what we’re telling you? Compton is your blood mate, but you won’t get a blood line until you make love as Ruinos!”

  DeGrassi spoke back into the cell. “Jeb?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What if her mate is still alive? Could she be dying by being separated from him?”

  “Yes!” Tiron nearly shouted before Jebaral could answer. “Yes! Oh, by all the stars, yes, she can.” She bit her lower lip as more memories rushed forward, bringing their stinging pain with them. Lowering her voice, Tiron told her husband, “If you hadn’t come back to me that night and made love to me, I would have died. A day later, or that next night, but I would not have been able to survive without you…and we hadn’t even had sex yet.”

  DeGrassi took a deep, shuddering breath as her words sank in. “Ask Challa if this Compton is still alive, and where he can be found.”

  Readjusting Challa in her arms, Tiron managed to free one of her hands. Touching the young Ruinos on the cheek, she said, “Challa, is Compton alive?”

  Challa slowly opened her eyes.

  “Is Compton still alive?” Tiron repeated.

  “Yes.”

  “Where is he? Where does he live?”

  “C—Cooper.”

  “That woman on the bus said Challa had been feeling sick ever since they left Cooper,” DeGrassi remembered. “Jeb, hang up. I gotta put out an alert on this guy. Roni, find out what Compton’s full name is.” He closed the cell then opened it again. The blueish-white glare from the phone’s screen cast the interior of the truck cab in an eerie, almost otherworldly glow.

  “What if we don’t find him in time?” Tiron asked, worried.

  Her husband grimaced. “We can’t think negatively, Roni. Not when Challa’s life is at stake. Find out the guy’s name, and I’ll get the ball rolling on my end.” He took another deep breath and adjusted himself in his seat. “It’s a miracle we managed to get to her in time. Let’s do what we can to save her, and hope we’re in time.”

  Chapter 31

  Location

  The carnival wasn’t in New Meyersville, Bixley, or Van Batten. Neither was it in Charisford, Kyle, Spring Bottom, or Mt. Varish. Compton stared at the map in the glare of the truck’s cab light. There was no telling where it was. Worse, with the hit-and-miss search pattern he was using, they could be as close as five miles away, or five hundred miles away, and he wouldn’t know it.

  He polished off the last of the cold coffee in the paper cup and checked his watch. It was nearly eleven. Rubbing his forehead with one hand, Compton tried to focus again on the map, but his eyes stung. He was tired, and he had a nice stress headache growing between his temples. But he couldn’t give up. Somehow, for some reason he could neither understand nor explain, he knew he couldn’t stop searching for her. He had to keep going, keep looking, but unfortunately time was being a mean bitch in the process.

  “Challa, where the hell are you?” he murmured again. He’d lost count of how many times he had repeated that question. It was almost becoming a mantra to him. Challa, where are you? Where are you, Challa?

  A glance at his gas gauge told him he needed to start looking for a twenty-four hour filling station. His stomach growled to also let him know he hadn’t filled it in some time, either. His best bet at taking care of both would be to find a truck stop along the interstate, since most small-town gas stations closed up early.

  He was tracing a nearby farm-to-market on the map, looking for the quickest route to the four-lane, when his cell phone rang. Who would be calling me at this time of night? His first thought was that it might be Challa, when he remembered that he hadn’t given her his cell number, or even thought to. Compton mentally kicked himself for the oversight as he answered the phone.

  “Hello.”

  A strange man inquired, “Is this Compton Scott?”

  Compton paused, eyes narrowing. Less than a handful of people had his number, and each one of them had a specific reason for having it. He didn’t recognize the voice, so his answer was noncommittal. “Who wants to know?”

  “Compton, my name is Thom DeGrassi. I’m a deputy sheriff over in Russup County, specifically in the town of Tumbril Harbor.”

  Compton began searching the map for Russup County as he waited for the man to continue.

  “Compton, I’m calling on behalf of Challa Doon.”

  His heart nearly stopped beating. A hundred questions rushed into his mouth, jostling to be asked. Instead, he said a quick prayer before answering, and hoped this wasn’t some sort of sick joke being perpetrated by Hall.

  “How did you get this number?”

  “Compton, listen carefully to me. Challa is dying. You’re her blood mate, but because you didn’t make love to her while she was Ruinos, her blood line didn’t form. So she left Cooper, thinking you weren’t meant to be together.”

  It was like striking him in the face with a baseball bat. This man knew Challa, knew she was Ruinos, and more importantly, knew the two of them had had intimate relations. The only answers he could find to his questions were either the guy was legit, or one of Hall’s cronies. Years of Army training made him choose the latter.

  “Nice try, asshole. Tell Hall I’m not falling for whatever he hopes to accomplish.”

  There was silence on the other end then a very weak voice whispered, “Compton?”

  Ohmigod, Challa! “Challa?”

  “Listen…to Thom…t’kor.”

  T’kor. He remembered her calling him that once before, back when they had been making love. A word in her language that sounded like a love name.

  Challa went away, and another female voice took her place. “Compton? My name is Tiron. I am Ruinos.”

  The accent was undeniable. No one could imitate that accent. He realized his mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. He sat up straighter as Tiron continued.

  “We took Challa away from the carnival, and we’re heading back to Tumbril Harbor. You need to meet us there as
soon as possible.”

  “How? I mean, how do I get there?” There was no longer any sense in trying to tell himself the phone call was a hoax. From the moment he heard her voice, Compton knew Challa needed him and would be waiting for him there.

  The phone switched hands. The deputy returned. “Compton? What’s your closest interstate?”

  “Eighty-eight. I’m about eleven miles or so away from getting on it.”

  “Great. I think I know where you are. Go east until you see the cutoff to Settler’s Ridge. Take the exit and go north. Call me when you get to the cutoff, and I’ll talk you in.”

  “Challa…is she…”

  “Hurry, Compton. And drive safe.”

  The connection ended. Immediately, Compton tossed the phone on the passenger seat and threw the truck into drive. Gravel spewed from beneath his tires as he gunned down the road, looking for the 168 intersection.

  Head east. The guy said to head east until he reached the cutoff to Settler’s Ridge.

  Challa is dying. You’re her blood mate, but because you didn’t make love to her while she was Ruinos, her blood line didn’t form. So she left Cooper, thinking you weren’t meant to be together.

  We started to. We started to, but I was afraid of what those hands with those talons might do, so I had her change. It had been the wrong thing to do. He realized that now, but neither he nor Challa had known it would make any difference at the time.

  “Hang on, honey. Hang on, Challa. I’m coming for you. Please, just…hang on.”

  Please, just hang on. It would become his new mantra.

  Chapter 32

  Chip

  Jebaral jumped out of the truck and rushed over to the SUV as it pulled in behind him. Tiron handed Challa over, and he hurried up the porch steps where Sarah was holding open the front door. He gave her a nod of thanks in passing.

  Dr. Fitzhugh was standing near the couch. Jebaral carefully laid Challa on the cushions and stepped back.

  “Any change?” the physician asked as he began to examine the young Ruinos.

  Tiron answered as she took a stance at the foot of the couch. “No. None that I could sense. I think she’s fighting back.” A tiny smile lifted the corners of Tiron’s lips. “That’s our little kolli.”

  “Kolli?” Hannah echoed.

  “It means ‘little fighter’,” Jebaral told his wife as he put an arm around her shoulders. “A few of the children who were born on the slave ship showed a potential for being stronger than the others. As well as a potential for greater bravery. That’s why Challa had been spared. She was one of the fearless ones.”

  Simolif came over to give his brother a hug. “What have you heard from her mate?” he asked DeGrassi, who stood behind his wife.

  “He should be seeing the cutoff to the spur very soon. He’s going to call again when he hits town.”

  “I’ll go wait at the turn-off,” Jebaral volunteered. Dropping a kiss to Hannah’s hair, he left the house.

  A sigh from the sofa drew everyone’s attention back to the doctor’s examination. Dr. Fitzhugh frowned. “Her vitals aren’t good, but I agree with you, Roni. She seems to be fighting to hold on. Then again,” he shrugged, “maybe she can tell he’s getting closer, and it’s helping her to stay strong.”

  “It’s very possible,” Tiron said. “She’s been in and out of consciousness the whole way, but she knows Compton is on his way here to be with her.”

  “What about her chip?” DeGrassi spoke up.

  “Just getting to it,” the physician said. Laying Challa’s left arm across his lap, the doctor swabbed her inner wrist with alcohol. A sterilized scalpel still in its packet sat on a tray on a chair next to him. Peeling the blade from its pack, he pressed a thumb to the area where he would need to cut, right above where her wing membrane began. “This is going to hurt,” he told her, and cut into the pale flesh.

  * * * *

  Challa’s eyes snapped open as the blade slid into her wrist, but she didn’t make a sound or cry out in pain. Groggy from fighting the debilitating effects of her separation from her blood mate, she managed to focus on the sight of the man peeling away her skin. A dark-haired woman mopped up the bright red blood flowing away from the cut with wads of gauze.

  She frowned. The woman looked…familiar. But not familiar. The last hour was a mishmash of dreams and sounds, of words being spoken to her and above her. But she remembered enough to know she was among her own kind. Among other Ruinos.

  The doctor slipped the edge of the scalpel underneath the skin. Nerve endings protested, and she tried to jerk her arm away. Challa bared her teeth in warning.

  “Whoa,” Dr. Fitzhugh cooed. His grip was unforgiving, as was the dark-haired woman’s who held her hand.

  “Another minute, kolli.” The woman looked over at Challa.

  The voice. The silver eyes with silvery flakes.

  Challa whimpered. “Tiron?”

  “Yes, Challa,” Tiron said, adding a warm smile as she mopped up more blood.

  “Damn it!” Dr. Fitzhugh sat up and turned to the others standing and watching. “I don’t see it.”

  “You don’t see it? Or you can’t find it?” Simolif asked.

  “It’s not there,” the doctor told them. “She doesn’t have a chip.”

  “That’s impossible!” Hannah said as the others also responded.

  “Every Ruinos we’ve contacted had the chip,” DeGrassi told the man. “How could Challa not have it? Maybe it’s the wrong arm.”

  Tiron corrected her husband. “The doctor knows what he’s doing. It’s the correct arm. I’ve been watching. He went into the same exact spot where he removed the chip from my arm, and Simolif’s, and Jebaral’s. Challa doesn’t have a chip.”

  Simolif stepped forward. “Challa was a youngling on the slave ship. She didn’t reach mating age until we were already on the escape ship. Maybe…maybe the Arra didn’t implant the chips until after a Ruinos reached puberty.”

  “It’s very possible,” Dr. Fitzhugh sighed. “Hannah, can you hand me a couple of those butterfly bandages, please? Keep holding her, Roni, while I close her up.”

  “You’re not going to keep looking?” Tiron asked.

  The doctor shook his head. “I didn’t bring along a portable x-ray to check to see if she might have one in the other arm. But I’m not going to cut into her again just to dig around in the hope of finding one. Not in the condition she’s in at the moment.” He applied the two bandages before adding a clean gauze pad on top of them and taping it down. “I’ve done all I can. She needs rest, and she needs her blood mate. As soon as she can change back into her human form, bring her over to the clinic and I’ll screen her.”

  Getting to his feet, the doctor removed his latex gloves and stuffed them into his carryall, along with the rest of his instruments. He started toward the front door, but paused in front of Jebaral, who shook his hand.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “My pleasure,” the physician said. “Always my pleasure. I feel extremely humbled to know you trust me with your secret and your lives.” Smiling, the man gave the rest a nod and a good night, and left, closing the door behind him.

  Simolif looked over at his wife who was sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop. “Anything?”

  “Nope. So far everything looks clear,” Sarah replied and shut the lid as she stood. “The skies look clear tonight. No sign of Arra anywhere, as far as I can tell.”

  “Cars are coming,” Tiron noted, straightening.

  “Compton.” Challa had heard it, too—the muffled roar of vehicle engines. One in particular had a peculiar pinging sound. Compton’s truck had something wrong in its engine.

  The sound was gradually getting louder, and her world became cohesive again. The torn parts were rejoining. Overlapping, sealing, healing. Challa felt her heart strengthening, unfolding, pumping blood again to the cold parts of her body and infusing them with heat the closer he got.

  They listened to the
sound of the trucks approaching the house until they stopped out front. There was the slamming of doors, and footsteps pounded up the steps.

  Compton threw open the door, barely giving anyone a glance as he focused on the small figure lying on the sofa.

  “Challa!”

  “T’kor!”

  He fell on one knee in front of the sofa and pulled her into his embrace. Several moments passed in silence as the two tightly held onto each other. Presently, Compton leaned back and turned to look at the others gathered.

  “Thank you. It’s not much to offer in gratitude, but…thank you.”

  Tiron reached over and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. She motioned toward the hallway. “Take her to the bedroom. Make love to her as Ruinos. When the blood line forms in her arm, then you can thank us,” she said with a smile.

  * * * *

  They watched as Compton stood, then picked up Challa and carried her down the hall. Once the couple had disappeared into the first bedroom, DeGrassi sighed loudly. “Thank God that’s over.”

  “It may not be over yet,” Hannah said, looking at her husband. “What if the Arra show up?”

  Sarah answered, “I don’t see how. Challa doesn’t have the chip in her arm, so how would they know she’s taken a blood mate?”

  “So you don’t see any point in us staying up and keeping watch? Keep a guard posted, just in case?” Hannah asked. “I don’t want any more nightmares like we had after the last time.”

  Chuckling, Jebaral pulled Hannah into his arms and kissed her forehead. “If it will make you feel safer, I’ll stay here tonight and keep watch.”

  “So will I,” Simolif offered, adding, “Will that make you feel better?”

  Hannah smiled. “Yes. Thanks.”

  DeGrassi stepped forward. “Listen. Tell you what. I’ll keep watch inside. Jeb, you and Simon can watch the outside. Between the three of us—”

  “Four,” Tiron interrupted, giving her husband a determined look he was very familiar with. Chuckling, DeGrassi nodded. “Between the four of us, we should be well prepared in case the Arra show up.”

  The others laughed as the tension and fear from the last hour evaporated. Tonight there would be love and a new blood line formed. If the doctor was right, and there was no signaling chip implanted in Challa, then the Arra would not appear as they had in the past whenever they were notified of a confirmed mating.