He dropped me, and without hesitation, I swung around, reaching for my knife. My teeth bared, coated in his blood. I lowered myself in defense. He probably had never been taken on by a human, let alone a five-foot-five female. But I was no ordinary girl, even before I met Ryker and acquired his magic.
I was a professional street fighter. One who got a crazy high from smashing her fist into someone’s tender body parts. Fighting had been my release before I gave it up for my life at DMG. Now that the feelings had been released again, it came back in frightening abundance.
“How adorable are you?” Arlo shook out his hand, hatred drilling deep in his eyes. “Human wants to play a fae game? Come on, girl. This shouldn’t take long.”
I was used to men underestimating me. At first it pissed me off, now I only smiled and let them believe it. Like a man who thought I was an easy target, Arlo lunged for me. Quick to pick up on people’s strengths and weaknesses, I skirted out of his way. My knife nicked at the side of his torso, causing him to grunt. He charged me again, and I twisted around, punching him in the temple. A roar broke from his mouth, and fire lit his eyes. Before he’d gone easy with me, thinking he could take me out with little work on his part. Now he was going to put effort into it.
Bring it, I thought as the buzz of adrenaline spiked a rush of blood through my veins.
He swung around, his fist heading for my stomach. He moved with the uncanny speed of most fae, and his hand made contact, slamming into my intestines. I fell back, rolling into a backward somersault.
There was pain. Definitely. But my anger always pushed it to the side, reducing it to a secondary feeling as I went into the zone.
He jumped down for me, and I rolled to the side, springing back to my feet.
“I’m impressed. Little human can fight,” Arlo grunted.
“And like a girl.” I smiled tartly.
He dove for my legs, and I kicked up, my knee connecting with his mouth and nose. He screamed and fell to the ground, hitting his already broken nose. Blood trickled from his mouth as he spit out a tooth. I jumped on his chest, my knife primed back. “How embarrassing to get your ass kicked by a human girl,” I seethed. My hand twitched with the need to drive the blade into his chest. Instead, I dragged it delicately across his face, crossing over his previous scar, playing with him. “X marks the spot.”
Before I could drive my blade into the middle of the X, I was lifted off him and pulled back. “Zoey, stop.”
“Let me go,” I growled, straining against Ryker. He wrapped his arms around me as he stepped on Arlo’s neck to keep him from moving.
“Calm down,” he mumbled in my ear. “Breathe.” He set me down and turned me to face him, his foot pressing harder on Arlo’s throat. Once again the moment my eyes met his, it was like stepping into a warm bath. Everything dropped away; my muscles relaxed. The white pools ringed with navy were my anchors. His eyes brought me back from the brink.
He cupped my face, keeping his gaze on me. My legs stayed put, but my upper body sagged in his hands. “I think he’s been humiliated enough.” Ryker’s lip curved in a smile when he glanced down at Arlo, who was struggling to breathe.
“Hey,” I huffed.
Ryker rolled his eyes. “Sorry, but you are a tiny human girl who kicked his ass. You think his men will ever let him forget it? If they can even stomach being minions to this piece of shit.” Ryker stepped off him and kicked his side. Arlo struggled to get back on his feet, coughing up blood as he sucked in gulps of air.
When he finally rose, Ryker stepped around me, putting himself between Arlo and me.
“You’re dead, Wanderer. So is your little pet human there.”
One of Ryker’s eyebrows flicked up. “Piss off, Arlo, and run fast. I might decide to let her finish the job. It will only take her a moment.”
Arlo’s bloody face contorted with rage.
“Now,” Ryker commanded.
Arlo snarled but took a step back. Then another. A few of his surviving men got back on their feet, and with heads bowed, they hightailed it away from us, disappearing into the darkness.
SEVEN
I let out a staggered breath.
“Damn. Wasn’t expecting to see that.” The pirate man turned to me, sheathing his sword. “Think I might be scared of you too.”
Ryker frowned and twisted me to him. “You all right?” He touched my neck. My hand automatically went to the same area. The torn skin was now molding itself together, the blood drying in clumps, crusting around the wound. Maybe it hadn’t been as deep as I thought, and like a paper cut, it felt worse than it was.
Or I was healing like a fae. I pushed the thought away. The idea striking fear into my core. Was I becoming fae?
“Breathe.” Ryker sensed my impending freak-out.
“Right. Sure.” I licked my lips, my trembling hands continuing to run along the closing gash.
“It’s true then.” The man strode over to us, avoiding the strewn fae forms on the ground. “Why else would you associate with a human?”
Ryker snarled and stepped in front of the man. “What the fuck are you doing here, Croygen?”
“Is this how you thank someone who just saved your ass?”
Ryker cocked his head.
“I guess you do.”
“When it’s you saving my ass, then yeah. You don’t do anything which doesn’t help yourself.”
“Or that I’m not obligated to do.” Croygen crossed his arms, resentment darting through his words.
“Believe me, if I could take it back, I would,” Ryker sneered.
“Not surprising.”
Both men were bristling, and I sensed punches might fly soon.
“Whoa.” I stepped between them; my hands went to their chests. “Gathering you two know each other?”
Croygen stepped away from my hand, looking at it with disgust.
I deduced he was also not a fan of humans.
“Yeah. Our pasts go way back,” Ryker said. “Unfortunately.”
“The feeling is mutual, Wanderer.”
Sighing, I rubbed my temples. Another enemy of humans and of Ryker. We were batting zero here. “Is there anyone, besides women, who like you?” I glared at Ryker.
“Not really.”
I grimaced.
“Thank you for your assistance. You’re free to go now.” Ryker snarled at Croygen, grabbed my arm, and began to walk away.
“You know it doesn’t work like that,” Croygen snapped.
“I keep hoping.” Ryker was limping, but he continued.
“Still see you have a propensity for finding trouble.”
“You should talk,” Ryker replied over his shoulder. “As usual, it’s been a pleasure.”
“I might have someone who could help you,” Croygen yelled after us.
Ryker’s steps faltered, but he continued to walk.
“I can find Regnus.”
Ryker stopped dead, causing me to stumble. He turned toward the pirate. “You were supposed to be our meeting?” He said it more like a statement than an actual question.
“Yeah. You think Arlo would do shit for you?” Croygen folded his arms over his chest. “Arlo has been pilfering my runs. Following me. Trying to get a bounty before me.” Croygen paused, glancing around. “He obviously offered the water fairies a better deal.”
“You always were a stingy bastard.” A slight grin hooked at the side of Ryker’s mouth.
Now I understood why Croygen showed up out of the blue like Superman. He was the man the water fairies actually sent us to meet. Arlo must have tricked the fairies into telling him who Croygen was meeting and why.
“Regnus is almost impossible to find. You know him. Discovering him on your own will be impossible. But I can help you.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I’m hoping it makes us even. Clears me.”
Ryker stayed quiet, staring down, his hands on his hips. Finally he declared, “If you fuck with me, you’re
dead. You know this, right?”
Croygen’s lip hitched, but he forced his head to nod.
“I am going to regret this.” Ryker breathed out, folding his arms. “Fine. You can help us.”
Croygen glared at the Viking, looking as thrilled by the idea as Ryker did. “I’ll be in contact with you soon.” He pivoted on his knee-high black pirate boots and vanished.
“How did he do that?” I continued to gaze around the empty space. “Is he a type of Wanderer too? He simply disappeared.”
“No. The asshole is still around,” Ryker called out to the shadows. Clouds were moving in, smelling of rain. Patchy clouds drifted over the moon and dimmed the only light source we had left.
“Fuck off, Wanderer,” Croygen’s voice called back from the forest.
Ryker snarled. “Croygen is a type of dark fae who can blend in with his surroundings so thoroughly it’s like he vanishes in front of you.”
“Like a chameleon?”
“Yeah, kind of like one. It makes for a perfect thief.”
“Ah. Is that how you know him?”
“Yes. We met trying to steal the same object. We go way back.” He seized my elbow again and took a few steps down the path.
“What about Arlo? You’ve been in this area before?”
“To Arlo, ‘this area’ means all of South America. Our paths crossed last in Argentina. Another thief I’ve had a run-in with. I took his woman and bounty. Didn’t seem to want to be friends afterward.”
I shook my head. “Shocker.”
So Arlo also had a lot of reasons to hate Ryker and want revenge, which was not good for us. “You have a lot of enemies.”
“I’ve lived a long time.” His limp became more and more pronounced the longer we walked. His grip tightened on my arm.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he uttered between clenched teeth.
“Stop.” I grabbed him. He teetered on one leg, bouncing. Even with the pale glow of the moon through the clouds, I could make out the blood darkening his cargo pants. The back of them had been sliced open and blood poured from the slash across his hamstrings.
“Shit, Ryker.” I bent down. The wound cut all the way to the bone, tearing through veins and tissue, but not once did he show he was hurt.
Because others were around. He would never show so-called weakness in front of anyone, friend or foe. Except me. A little voice tugged at my heart.
“This is really bad.” I searched around for a tourniquet of sorts.
“I’ll be fine. Let’s get home.” Ryker swayed.
“Stop being a stubborn ass.” I pushed myself back up, locating what I needed. I heard Ryker snort as I jogged back to one of the dead bodies. Bending over, I unhooked the corpse’s belt and tugged it off him.
“What are you doing?”
“This will slow the bleeding. Otherwise you are going to pass out long before we get home, and I can’t carry you.”
“What? You can’t carry me?” Ryker hobbled over to me. “You saying I’m fat?”
I laughed. Right. The man didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. “You’d be a lot more useful fat, actually.” I squatted down, wrapping the belt around his leg.
“What?” Ryker sucked in a breath as I cinched the belt.
“If you were fat, I’d throw your ass in the river and use you as a raft to take us back to our place. But if I did it now, you’d sink. Then I’d have to save you from drowning. There’s only so much saving a girl can do in one day.”
Ryker shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips.
I finished and stood up, putting his arm around my shoulders. Our progress was slow, and without him knowing I tried several times to jump us, but the powers remained stubborn to my call. When we finally made it back to the room, Ryker was so out of it from blood loss he rambled and muttered incoherently.
Sprig was passed out under my pillow, and I moved him out of the way as Ryker’s body crashed on the bed. His eyes already closed.
“Ryker, I need to get your pants off.” I shook him.
“About time,” he muttered into the pillow. Silence followed and he relaxed like he was falling asleep.
“I need to clean your wound.” I tapped on his back. “Come on, Ryker. Help me here.”
He only mumbled something I couldn’t understand. I pushed him onto his side, unbuttoning his pants. No matter how unromantic it was, my heart still thumped in my chest as my knuckles brushed over his lower abdomen. His body responded to my touch. Rising to greet my hand as my fingers worked at undoing his pants.
Oh. Hell.
His hand came down on mine, pressing me into him. My gaze flew to his, but his eyes were still closed. I froze as he unconsciously guided my hand into his pants.
Holy shit! Alarms reverberated in my head. But none of them stopped me; the need in my fingers to feel him took over. The tips of my fingers grazed the fabric of his boxer briefs, feeling the heat of him pushing past the material.
What the hell, Zoey? I jerked my arm back and stepped away from the bed, putting my head in my hands. A shaky breath emerged from my lungs.
Come on. Get a grip. He’s unconscious and hurt. Grow up.
I straightened my shoulders and stepped back, my shins knocking into the bed frame. “Ryker, I need you to help me.” I shook him till his lids fluttered.
His hands pushed at the tops of his pants. It took him a couple of tries before he got them over his hips. I let him fall back, face-first into his pillow. I tugged and yanked till his pants peeled from him, taking extra care with the area sticky with blood. His gash was still oozing. This wasn’t good. It was becoming more and more apparent I was healing like a fae and he was not.
I went to the bathroom and grabbed the first-aid stuff I had bought earlier: gauze, rubbing alcohol, bandages, and sewing items.
When I stepped back into the room, my stride faltered. Ryker had taken off his shirt and now lay only in his boxer briefs with Sprig curled at his head. My heart fluttered with tenderness. They were all I had left in the world, and they were only temporary. The thought of them eventually leaving me triggered the start of a panic attack; my heart raced and sweat prickled at the back of my neck.
No. Not now. I pushed away the feelings and got back to business. I cleaned and bandaged Ryker’s leg, then got in the shower, shrieking at the cold water but relieved to be clean of dirt and blood.
Dressed in soft cotton shorts and a tank, I crawled in bed next to Ryker. Rain trickled at the windows, coating the room with mugginess. I curled myself in the small space his form didn’t take up, trying not to touch him. Without waking up, his arm came around me and pulled me to him, his face snuggling into the back of my neck. He inhaled and exhaled, tension leaving his muscles. He drifted off into a deep sleep.
It took me longer, but eventually I succumbed too.
EIGHT
The early morning sunshine and heat roused me. Ryker lay extended on his stomach, his legs and arms splayed out like a starfish, leaving me little room on the mattress. He didn’t even stir when I tried to shove him back on his side. Healing produced an almost coma-like state in fae, especially him. Sprig was curled at the head of the bed. Snoring.
I climbed out of bed, stretching as I lumbered to the window. I cringed, my neck and body still bruised and sore, but overall it was shocking how good I felt. The sunlight was creeping over the mountains, hitting the buildings on the other side of the street.
“Another beautiful day in Peru,” I mumbled with a smile. Rain clouds rolled through constantly, but they left as fast as they came. Just like the sun in Seattle.
I cleaned the cut on my neck before attending to Ryker’s leg. Normally, with a wound like his, a fae would be mended by now. His was still leaking blood. I finished doctoring the wound and wrapped it with fresh gauze.
The air was thick, but a slight breeze trickled through the sheer curtains, brushing lightly over my skin. I plunked down in the chair, curling my legs underneath me. A single
papaya chip remained on the table, and I snatched it up, munching.
I sat in silence, devouring the last morsel of dried fruit, my mind going over the night’s events. The video camera I was going to watch the other night sat on top of the dresser, drawing my attention over and over. This was as good of time as any.
I had made a pact with Ryker we would deal with the shaman first, but my mind was never far from knowing I was a lab experiment. I mean, how does one even deal with something like that? You technically have no real mother and father, merely donors. I came to life in a petri dish.
The DMG supposedly discovered my abilities and recruited me while I was attending college. Now I knew they had been fully aware of me my entire life. Lying and deceiving me, letting foster parents hurt me. I couldn’t regret working for DMG, though. It was where I met Daniel, my trainer, my mentor, the son of the man who created me, and with whom I fell hopelessly in love. Our fates were meant to cross, but sadly our love was not.
The chair creaked as I unfolded myself and leaned over, grabbing the camera. I twisted the screen and placed it on the table. I took a deep gulp of air and quickly stabbed my finger at the on button. Even though I had watched it once before, it wrenched my stomach in knots to push play again.
Daniel’s face illuminated the screen, and my heart clenched at his image. It was getting a little easier, but I would forever grieve having him in my life for such a short time. There would always be a “what could have been” if life went another way. But it didn’t. And I would have to learn to deal with the loss.
The video rolled with Daniel once again explaining how his father had created a bunch of us in a lab, including Sera and me, the only two still left alive, and the fact I was supposedly dying. “While playing with genes, DMG made a lot of mistakes. Most of the eggs did not make it. And sadly, most of the babies died. Only a few of you survived.”
I wanted to believe what Ryker and I talked about, the actual thing DMG was working on to achieve. In small cases they had helped humans recover, but not enough to make a national stand. There was a chance Ryker’s fae powers would heal me. It was clear at least they were mending me with extraordinary speed.
The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2) Page 7