by Kristie Cook
When the convulsions subsided, I pulled him up, then took him into my hand, stroking him as I guided him into me. He shuddered before he even entered. He looked down at me, his eyes sparkling, as he slid inside. I ran my hands over his chiseled chest and hard abs, around to the perfection in back, and then thrust my hips against him, pulling him into me at the same time. We both moaned and moved with urgency. It'd been way too long. We built up quickly and soared away together. There was no time for messing around, playing games with our powers, destroying whatever lay in our path. This time was relatively normal–except for a few bruises, of course.
But they were nothing compared to–
"Holy crap!" I stared at the water's smooth surface, perfectly reflecting my battered face as I leaned over the edge of the bank. I looked like a damn raccoon, one large bruise creating a mask around my eyes and across my nose and upper cheeks. "How could you want to make love to this?"
"I won't acknowledge that idiotic question," Tristan said, considering me. "But I have a good one: Did it work? Your shield?"
I had to think about it. "I don't know. I don't think so, but without anyone else around, I can't tell."
"Hmm." He shrugged it off. "Let's clean off, and we'll get moving again."
He led me into the water, and although the ripples distorted the reflection, it was still hard to see what hid underneath. I felt around with my feet, and finding nothing, I dipped down and immersed my shoulders. The water was cool and refreshing, especially since I hadn't had a chance to shower this morning, thanks to Vanessa and Victor. Tristan was already out, buckling his pants, and I was splashing water against my face when I sensed the mind signature and saw the movement under the water at the same time. I hadn't been paying enough attention.
The eyes broke the surface first, and then the long, broad snout. As its head emerged, its mouth opened widely, exposing rows of teeth several inches long.
"Waaaaah!" I screamed, punched its nose as hard as I could, and literally flew out of the water, clearing twenty-five feet over the bank before I landed behind Tristan. My fingernails dug into his arm as I peeked around him. The oversized, white crocodile sauntered out of the water, snapping its jaw. My superhuman strength didn't slow it. "What the hell! What do we do?"
"Shh … it's okay. Can't you tell?"
Of course it was okay to him. He'd been fighting sharks and probably crocodiles and various other monsters for centuries.
"Yeah! It's a freakin' Were! Do something already."
Tristan lifted his hand, but instead of attacking, the crocodile began transforming.
Chapter 12
"Please don't," the half-man/half-croc begged, the words distorted as he finished morphing. "It's me–Jax."
Amadis! That's what Tristan meant: he was asking if I could tell the were-croc was one of us.
Jax and I both stood there naked, Tristan between us. Jax's arms hung at his sides, completely relaxed, not at all embarrassed that I could see every bit of him. And there was a lot to see. Although quite a bit shorter than Tristan, he was otherwise large–everywhere–too over-muscled for my liking, but it was probably natural, his being part-crocodile and all. Scars ripped across his darkly tanned skin in several places, including his bald scalp. With my keen eyesight, I couldn't see a strand of hair anywhere–not even eyelashes or … never mind.
"G'day," he greeted, a toothy grin crinkling a scar that cut from above his brow, down his eyelid and to his cheekbone, though his brown eye looked undamaged. He saw me peeking at him from behind Tristan and winked at me.
Tristan's chest rumbled. He held his hand out to his side, and his shirt flew up from the ground. He pushed it back at me. It covered me better than the Amadis dress, but I still stayed behind Tristan and kept my eyes only on Jax's face–I'd seen enough of him already.
"Who are you and why were you sneaking up on me?" I demanded.
"You're a feisty little sheila, aren't ya?" Jax rubbed his nose, smiled wider and nodded toward Tristan. "I'm an old mate of his."
Tristan crossed his arms over his chest. "Hmph. Mate isn't exactly the right word. Or did you forget who gave you that scar over your eye?"
Jax laughed. "Naw, not forgotten."
"You must not have learned your lesson, then, sneaking up on us again. Or were you getting a little thrill from my wife?"
Jax shrugged. "She is a bloody ripper. Cracked a fat, all right."
Tristan's chest rumbled louder, and he leaned slightly forward. I didn't understand what Jax meant, but apparently it wasn't a compliment.
"Just giving ya a compliment, mate," Jax said.
Okay, maybe a compliment, but derogatory.
"Do you realize who she is?" Tristan growled.
"Hmm … you said your missus, right? Why don't you make introductions?"
"Jax, this is Alexis," Tristan said, that familiar steel undertone in his voice, though on the surface it sounded polite. "Alexis Ames. As in Sophia's daughter, Katerina's granddaughter."
Understanding dawned on Jax's face, and he grinned warmly again. "Ah. So that's why you're throwin' such a wobbly. Didn't mean to disrespect ya, Miss Alexis. I don't get out among the Amadis much. So what brings ya out here to the bush?"
Neither Tristan nor I answered at first. Suspicion waved off Tristan's body, making me uneasy. Jax's being Amadis no longer meant what it used to. I focused on his thoughts, ensuring Julia and her posse hadn't sent him. He was mentally kicking himself all over for being "such an arse around royalty," though a very basic man part of him was thinking about how hot I was, even with the racoon face. I squeezed Tristan's hand.
"Just passing through," Tristan finally said.
"Where you going? I hope not west–you'll end up in the never-never. You can't flash your way to the west coast before dark."
All three of us automatically looked up. The sun hung in the western sky, not far from setting.
"No worries about us," Tristan said.
"Probably not, but since you are Amadis Royalty, I'll worry anyway. I don't spend much time around them–not around anyone, really–but mates are mates. You can stay the night at my place. I don't have much to offer, but it's better than being out in the bush overnight."
"Are there Daemoni around?" I asked.
"Naw. Haven't seen them in donkey's years. But that doesn't mean it's not dangerous out here at night."
I looked at Tristan, relying on his knowledge and experience, since I had little. He still looked suspicious. I probed Jax's mind again, looking for any ulterior motive.
He's okay, I told Tristan after listening. A little lonely, wanting to do the right thing for us, but not dangerous.
Tristan glanced sideways at me. I squeezed his hand again, and his shoulders relaxed.
"We're headed north to Kuckaroo," he told Jax.
"Hmm … you could make it before dark, if you know where you're flashing and don't show up in the middle of a dingo fight or a roo cave. It's risky. Up to you. Offer's there for you."
I shuddered at the thought of appearing in a kangaroo cave uninvited. I'd be admiring them from a distance from now on. Of course, we were just as likely to appear right next to a variety of unfriendly animals during the day and, realizing this, flashing our way through the Outback sounded less and less appealing.
My desire to stay out of the great outdoors at night may have been irrational. After all, we could see just as well in the dark, and Jax said Daemoni hadn't been around for ages. But somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I thought I remembered learning that Australia's nocturnal animals outnumbered their day-loving cousins. I could probably easily defend myself–animals could be electrocuted–but that didn't relieve the feeling of fear of the unknown. Especially after being pounded in the face by a kangaroo. Besides, a real bed was always a nice draw.
I want to stay, Tristan. He narrowed his eyes at me. We'll be okay. Whatever your past is with him, he wants to help now. Unless you want to hear me whining all night, because I won't get an ounc
e of sleep out here.
Tristan sighed and shook his head slowly. I could hear the reluctance in his thoughts. "Fine. Maybe we'll learn something."
"Give us a minute, and we'll go with you," Tristan told Jax.
Jax returned to the water and when he was out of sight, I quickly removed Tristan's shirt and put my own clothes on. When we reached the bank, Jax the person was gone, but the crocodile hovered under the water's surface, only his eyes and a slice of forehead showing. He swung his large head to the right, motioning for us to follow him. Though the croc was still a bit frightening, even knowing it was Jax, I was glad he changed–he may not have been embarrassed by his nakedness, but I was. We followed the croc half-way around the pond, to its feeder stream and up the stream to a tiny shack.
Tristan and Jax caught fish from the stream and we grilled it over a fire for dinner. It took a couple prods from Tristan to get Jax talking, but once he did, he chatted incessantly about his life in the bush. I didn't have to listen to his thoughts–he told us everything and then some. He stayed in the bush because it made living easier as an Amadis Were; in other words, if he wasn't around people, he wasn't tempted to eat them. He was changed by a Daemoni were-croc that bit him when he was a teenager out in the bush by himself. A warlock, who we figured out to be Charlotte, converted him, and he lived in Kuckaroo for a while. But full moons made control difficult, and he eventually moved out on his own.
He rarely saw people and preferred it that way. A female were-eagle visited him during new moons only, when he had the most control over his instinct to eat her. He'd learned to live entirely off the land, usually eating as a crocodile because it made the hunting easier, but when he needed supplies, he went to the nearest Norman town. He only visited Kuckaroo every few years. Except for the eagle, none of them came to visit him and he hadn't seen or sensed Daemoni since shortly after his own turning. He called the surrounding area within a two-hundred-kilometer range his home and knew it as well as he did his little one-room shack. He told us a handful of other Amadis Weres lived similarly in the Outback.
He asked about my face, and Tristan shared the story of my brief encounter with the kangaroo. Jax laughed for several minutes. We told him we were on the run from Daemoni, but little else about our situation. Now that we'd reminded him, he said he remembered hearing some of our story–the reason for the Daemoni's desire to have us, Tristan's capture–but hadn't heard about Tristan's escape.
"I don't trust any authority, including the Amadis, but you two seem all right," Jax said. "Anytime you're in my part of the bush and need anything, just sing out and I'll find ya."
"And your maker? Is he still around?" I asked, not particularly wanting to run into him.
"You mean 'she' and she's dead. After I converted to Amadis, she attacked me, and we went into a death roll. She gave me a lot of these scars, and I gave her death. I'm the only one of my kind now. If I were on the registry of animals, I'd be labeled as extinct."
Jax divided a pile of hides and blankets into two, creating two beds–one for Tristan and me and one for himself–in front of the fireplace. I didn't get a real bed, but it was still much better than being outside in the wilderness.
"Sorry, princess, it's the best I have," Jax said with a wink.
I told him it was fine. Tristan must have warmed to him during the evening–he didn't growl this time at Jax's wink. But he did put me on the opposite side from Jax, placing himself between us, and kept his arm tightly around me through the night.
***
According to Tristan, by saying "Australia," I'd sent us to both the best and worst place for our escape. Before meeting me, Tristan spent nearly twenty years hiding from the Daemoni by blending into Norman society. He said the hard part was shaking them in the first place. It would be fairly easy by becoming lost and "vanishing" somewhere in the great Australian Outback. If we could give them the slip here, we could go just about anywhere, including the States. The problem with Australia, though, was getting off the continent–the few major airports would be watched, and we'd have Dorian with us, which meant no flashing or swimming. It wouldn't have mattered, though. The only places within flashing or swimming distance would be watched, too.
At the moment, I understood what he meant about becoming lost in the bush. We left Jax's shack at first light, flashing north toward Kuckaroo, and supposedly we were somewhere close. But we couldn't find it. We walked and walked and walked … and walked some more. We probably walked right by it, around it, possibly through it, for all I knew, but they kept a heavy shield and cloak over it.
"You would think other Amadis could see it or at least have some way to detect it," I complained after we'd been searching for the village for nearly two hours in the blazing sun. It was early winter Down Under, but an unusual warm spell brought summer heat, especially the farther north we traveled.
"We should be able to sense it, but they're probably on high alert after the attacks. And they must have a powerful warlock or two to create a shield this heavy. You're sure you can't pick anything up?"
"No. I already said I couldn't." I didn't mean for it to come out so harshly, but I was hot and dirty and tired of walking aimlessly, searching for the invisible. We may as well have been searching for the lost city of Atlantis in the middle of the Mohave. Our bodies adjusted to extreme temperatures, but within the last several minutes the heat became increasingly annoying, pushing down on us, creating a thrum in my head. Besides, it was the fourth time he'd asked me about mind signatures in the last fifteen minutes, and his own tone was full of impatience. "Are you sure you can't get a cell signal?"
I'd asked him the same thing more than four times. For some reason, pushing buttons felt like the solution for relieving the pressure in my head.
"We're in the middle of fucking nowhere, Alexis. Do you see a tower anywhere nearby?"
Apparently, he felt the need for an argument, too, and the overwhelming urge to fight consumed me.
I threw my arms in the air. "You're the big toy collector. Why don't you have one of those fancy satellite phones that get signals everywhere … even in the middle of fucking nowhere?"
"And when did I have time to buy one since leaving Hell?"
"Well, let's see … maybe during that whole week doing whatever the hell you wanted before you came back to me?" I yelled.
He shot a vicious look at me and, for a brief moment, I expected to see the old fire in his eyes. That was a low blow, and I knew it. I didn't apologize, though. I didn't feel like it right now. I wanted to strangle anything I could get my hands around.
"So what now?" I asked sharply. "Should we go back to Jax's?"
"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Tristan sneered.
"What? What's that supposed to mean?"
"I saw you ogling him out at the pond."
"I wasn't ogling him! He was naked and standing right in front of us!"
"Which you didn't mind one bit, did you? Or the way he looked at you?"
I stopped in my tracks and stared at him as if he'd slapped me. What's wrong with him? This was not my Tristan. My Tristan was sweet and caring and definitely not jealous. He had no need to be. He was the center of my world, and absolutely no one could ever compare to him.
"I spent seven-and-a-half years waiting for you," I spewed. "It's always been you and no one else. How dare you!"
I glared at him, my fists balled on my hips. He glared back. Well, if he's going to be that way …
"At least Jax would be able to find this place. I trusted you to know what you're doing, and now we're lost."
That did it. Tristan's perfect face twisted and contorted as several emotions tried to take over at once. The gold in his eyes sparked–not like they used to, with real flames, but like anyone's eyes when they're overcome with anger. My trust in him was sacred ground, not something to be thrown around lightly.
But before he could settle on any single emotion, something behind him caught my eye. The air itself wrinkled. I first
thought it was the heat rising from the ground, but as I watched, it did it again and it was definitely … not normal.
"Oh! Tristan! I think we found it," I shouted, my anger replaced by surprise and jubilation. "Over here!"
I tugged on his hand, pulling him with me. We took two strides toward the wrinkle when a large Jeep burst out of that space, charging right at us. A musical laugh chimed over the grinding of tires on sand and gravel as the Jeep slid to a stop twenty yards in front of us. Tristan and I spun back around, but had nowhere to go. We were surrounded. Six Jeeps encircled us–some drivers and occupants with fangs, some with wands and yet others quivering, about to transform.
"Sorry to spoil your spat," Vanessa chimed. "I was quite enjoying it, and it kept you nicely distracted."
Tristan squeezed my hand, and I knew he was about to flash and I was to follow him. But before we had a chance, the air around us whooshed upward and our surroundings suddenly changed, like an abrupt scene change in a movie. We stood in the center of a wide road, a handful of old, brick buildings and squat houses spread out beyond the Jeeps. Kuckaroo. Vampires, Weres and mages surrounded the jeeps that surrounded Tristan and me.
"These two are mine but the rest are fair game," Vanessa yelled.
Chaos erupted. The vampires became blurred streaks as they flew at each other. Daemoni Weres changed on the fly as they lunged at their enemy cousins, bits of skin and goo–were-pulp–raining down on us. Magic spells shot around and across the circle. Jaws snapped. Buildings and Jeeps burst into flames. The screech of metal against stone echoed off the buildings.
Vanessa laughed maniacally, then lifted her arms and jumped toward me, flying across the twenty yards between us.
I knew what she planned to do before she did it, but I saw a chance to retrieve my necklace wrapped around her gloved arm, so I didn't stop her. Just as she was close enough to touch, her fangs bared for the bite, I ducked out of her way and reached for the pendant. My fingers brushed her ice-cold shoulder, and a spark crackled as they barely touched the ruby. Damn it! I missed, but her fangs didn't–they sliced across the inside of my arm, from wrist to inner elbow.