Special Passage (The Coursodon Dimension Book 4)

by M. L. Ryan

  “Their gain is our loss,” I observed, my thoughts riddled with derision.

  Ulut shrugged his withers. “Who knows, Jifga’s replacement could be worse.”

  I found that hard to fathom, particularly now. His troops, apparently pissed they were subjected to actual fighting, seemed hell-bent on making the surviving townsfolk pay for their insolence. Within a few yards of where I stood, one of Jifga’s lieutenants’ beheaded an old man whose arms were raised in surrender, while others pulled sobbing women off the corpses of their loved ones, no doubt set to transfer some of their battle energy into something more sexual.

  I had no way of voicing my objections. Ulut couldn’t communicate with anyone but me as a dog, and the pawboard and phone were back at the camp. I wasn’t sure he’d want to change back into his man-self just to remind Jifga there was to be no raping. I had to do something.

  An upwelling of rage filled me. Focusing my attention on two scumbags—one held a struggling woman on the ground while the other fumbled with the buttons on his pants—I let out a blood-curdling screech. My menacing cry had its intended effect; they stopped what they were doing and gaped at my advancing form. Once they realized I was coming for them, they abandoned their spoils of war and ran.

  Sorry, assholes, I said to myself, someone’s got to be an example and right now, and it’s you sorry assholes.

  Summoning all my reserves, I trained my last bit of wingfire at them and watched with grim satisfaction as the fleeing bastards ignited.

  A startled Jifga called out to the rest of his men, presumably to observe our agreement and not because he suddenly became concerned with common decency. I scowled at Jifga, hoping to convey my displeasure, but mindful the expression might not translate well on my non-human face. He shrugged, adding an, “Oh well, boys will be boys,” sort of look.

  I blew out a deep breath to cool the now-smoldering remains of the would-be rapists, and then turned slowly towards Jifga. Boys will be boys, my big, scaly butt, I snarled inwardly, whipped my head around, and grabbed the closest barbequed asshole in my jaws.

  He was crunchy with a soft, creamy filling.

  25

  There was a reason millions of years of human evolution had rid us of almost all instincts. Genetically compelled behavior, where reason played no role, was not a good thing for creatures who pondered the consequences of their actions. If it was instinct that caused me to munch on the grim raper, my conscience triggered what happened next.

  I vomited his partially digested remains right next to Jifga.

  To say he was not pleased with this turn of events woefully understated his reaction, but truthfully, very little got on him. A few bits splashed on his trousers, and maybe a wad or two of masticated flesh landed on his arm, but Jifga’s own stomach purge was quite the overreaction in my opinion. Of course, embarrassed by his poor gastrointestinal fortitude, he proceeded to exacerbate the situation by having a tantrum, stamping his self-puked-on feet, and waving his hands like a mad man.

  “Ulut, what’s he saying?” I asked, surveying the mess.

  “He’s ranting, so some of it is difficult to understand, but the gist is, he thinks you did that on purpose.”

  “Which, the eating or the barfing?”

  “Oh, the barfing. I don’t think he cares about the frying and dining.”

  Truth be told, I hadn’t thrown up on Jifga intentionally. Almost immediately after swallowing, the complete non-palatability of my meal overwhelmed me. It wasn’t just the burnt tang that made my stomach roil, but the underlying flavor of the meat. Not that I’d expected man flesh to taste like chicken, but it was unlike anything I’d ever eaten, and not in a good way. That wasn’t what made me hurl, however. The explosion of nastiness on my tongue propelled me back to reality. It was the act itself that sent me over the edge of emesis.

  I explained this to Ulut and added, “Before he blows a gasket, or gets it into his mind to retaliate against Bex or Z, we have to convince him it was all an accident.”

  As I anticipated, Ulut was reluctant to shift just to communicate, but Jifga wasn’t calming down and we couldn’t come up with a better solution. I watched with mild amusement as a naked Ulut explained the circumstances—no doubt along with my penchant for losing my lunch—to the flabbergasted warlord. Eventually, Jifga did regain his composure, although he continued to glare at me long after the yelling stopped. I hoped he wasn’t the sort to hold a grudge, but worried he hadn’t made it this far in life by letting perceived slights slide.

  As I feared, Uncle Crazy lashed out. Not at me—I was far too valuable. Instead, he assuaged his humiliation over his rebound spew by grabbing a sword from one of his nearby commandos and running the blade through the surprised man’s abdomen. The poor guy fell to his knees, staring at the metal protruding from his gut and probably wondering what prompted the attack. Jifga paid no mind to the dying soldier and stalked away.

  I’d never experienced such violent indifference, yet I couldn’t take my eyes off the blood oozing from the fatal wound. “That psycho just skewered his own man,” I yelped, still trying to make sense out of the senseless act.

  Ulut jerked his head, as if doing so would fling the horrible sight from his mind. He gazed up at me, and recognizing my own distress, patted my wing, likely to comfort himself as much as for my benefit.

  Normally, the reassuring gesture would be soothing, but I had trouble appreciating it. “Uh, are you going to shift back?” I said, averting my eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” He frowned and looked himself over, as though making sure everything was where it should be.

  “Nothing,” I replied tersely. “It’s just…”

  “I don’t understand,” he cut in. “You’ve seen me unclothed before.”

  I didn’t get my problem, either. It wasn’t as if his nudity was offensive, and certainly not arousing. Living in close quarters with six or seven men at Gera’s, no matter how careful we tried to be, you’d get a glimpse of someone in the altogether. Not that people paraded around that way, but you couldn’t help getting an eyeful every so often. And, except for Alex’s man-bits, the old adage, “seen one, seen ‘em all,” held true. In fact, I found non-aroused male genitalia kind of unappealing—floppy and just so, functional. No, my discomfort stemmed from neither prurient interest nor prudery. Thinking about the expanse of his uncovered skin made my mouth water. Horrified by the realization, I backed away, and a strangled moan burbled from my throat.

  Grave concern spread across Ulut’s face. “Hailey,” he pleaded, moving quickly toward me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Stay away,” I shouted telepathically. “Change back to a dog, NOW.”

  His brow furrowed, and while plainly confused, he stepped back. I clamped my wings across my face, and heard a familiar, muffled, “woof.”

  “Okay, I shifted.”

  His voice entered my mind soft, calm. The same tone one might use while talking a suicidal jumper off a high-rise ledge. Cautiously, I lowered my wings and forced myself to look. Every muscle in his now four-legged body seemed to prickle with energy, and brown ringlets rose from his hackles. At full alert, but standing tall. I sagged with relief; the urge to devour him was gone.

  “Oh my god, Ulut,” I blurted. “I almost ate you.”

  His posture changed, and he relaxed into a sit. “Well, then, I’m very glad you didn’t.”

  There was an air of humor in his tone, laced with an undercurrent of unease. I had to admire his courage—I’d just admitted he’d almost been lunch, yet he hadn’t moved away. He hadn’t moved closer, either, but bravery was one thing, stupidity another.

  “I don’t know if it was his blood or your nakedness, but you looked so damn yummy,” I murmured in disbelief. “Like potato chips, you can’t eat just one.” I couldn’t believe I’d just said that out loud. “What the hell is happening to me?”

  This time, he rose and crossed the divide between us. Without any trepidation, Ulut rubbed his head against my
quaking side. “The longer you stay an animal, the more animal you become,” he said softly. “It’s hard, I know, but you must fight it.”

  I desperately wanted to wallow in my misery, but, again, tears would not come. “God fucking damn it, I can’t even fucking cry!”

  “I know,” he repeated, “but hold that feeling. The real trouble will start when you no longer wish to weep. The emotion is what preserves your humanity.”

  Ulut shifted his position, and he said the rest while looking straight into my eyes. “All those months trapped as a dog, I worried I might never be able to transform back. I felt myself slipping away, and might have, had I not struggled against it. Remember what it is to be you: your intelligence, your strength of character, even your unrelenting sarcasm and propensity to say the word, ‘fuck.’ The battle is hard-fought, but well worth the effort.”

  Maybe I wasn’t physically capable of turning on the waterworks, but absence of tear ducts aside, Ulut’s monologue brought every bit of pathos to the surface. I threw back my head and loosed a bellow so thunderous that it made the ground shake. It also produced a similar outcome from the people in the general vicinity, including Jifga, but Ulut seemed unfazed.

  “I had outbursts to let off steam,” he explained as the rumbles died down, “but none as awesome as that.” His tongue lolled out of his mouth, his canine version of a smile. “Feel any better?”

  Actually, I did. The uncontrollable urges had subsided, and while my stomach grumbled, I wasn’t so hungry I had to eat immediately. “Thanks, Ulut, and sorry you had to shift back so quickly.” After the last few minutes, I understood better than ever the importance of balance when in an alternate form.

  “No problem,” he responded, wagging his tail. “I’d have liked to stay bipedal for a bit longer—keeps my hamstrings from tightening up—but transforming doesn’t take as much out of me as it does you. I’ll be fine. Besides, I can always shift back… later.”

  The slight hesitation left no room for misinterpretation. “Later,” meaning when I wasn’t around. Not that I could blame him. When he lost control as a dog, the worst-case scenario was trying to hump any receptive female canine he could lay his paws on. Even a momentary lapse on my part could be fatal for those around me.

  Jifga must have had enough, as he ordered some of his men to accompany him—along with Bex and Z, of course—back to the Butte. Tired and emotionally drained, I, too, wanted to get away from what was left of the village. Unfortunately, I knew the only thing preventing the rest of the gang from engaging in unnecessary excess after their conquest was me. Ulut and I stayed behind, making sure the hooligans didn’t steal all the food and livestock and kept their cocks in their pants.

  The sun was setting when we finally returned to chez Jifga. Under different circumstances, I might have appreciated the sky’s vibrant colors reflecting on the river. Natural beauty aside, one incongruent thought ran through my head, Another day, another bit of squalor. I hadn’t been a willing participant in the day’s incivility, but that didn’t absolve me of blame. As the light faded, I reached out to whoever might be listening to the mental prayers of an agnostic beast.

  “Please let Alex and Sebastian come up with some way out of this soon. I’m not sure how much more I can take.” I hadn’t invoked the power of a Supreme Being since I was a kid, and I wasn’t sure who I was beseeching—God? I’itoi? Dekankarma? “Oh,” I added for good measure, “and please don’t let me eat anyone else, especially anyone I know and love.”

  At Ulut’s suggestion, I skipped hunting. Instead, Hyattia brought a side of beef to the riverbank for my dining pleasure. The meal wasn’t nearly as satisfying as when I snagged my own, but Ulut was right when he told me to avoid as many animalistic behaviors as possible. Besides, if I was acting as Jifga’s personal attack monster, he might well as take care of me like an employee.

  After I’d consumed the half-cooked half-steer—bones and all—I slunk back to my pen, resigned to another night enveloped in guilt and ignored by Alex. Nestled under the shelter, I wondered where Ulut was. He usually slept outside with me, but then I remembered he wanted to have some man time. He probably shifted. I listened to the sounds of the night, lulled into a drowsy stupor by the distant hooting of a great-horned owl.

  “Hailey?”

  I’d almost dozed off when the familiar voice roused me. I blinked into the darkness. “Alex?”

  I was worried I imagined his presence, or perhaps it was a dream, but then I caught a whiff of roasted marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. Must be real, I concluded. I don’t smell S’mores in my nocturnal picture shows. The group of guards blending into the shadows who accompanied him lent an additional air of realism.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he whispered. “Ulut told me what happened.”

  Ah, he did change back to himself. “How much did he tell you?” I wondered abstractly. Maybe Ulut had glossed over the truly foul parts.

  Alex sighed. “Everything, I think. He was concerned you were still feeling guilty about trying to eat him.”

  So much for leaving out the bad stuff. “Actually, I thought about eating him, but never truly tried. Jifga’s over-sexed henchman wasn’t quite so lucky.”

  “Ulut believes your actions are to be expected given the length of your transformation.” His fingertips brushed against my wing, but he instantly pulled his hand back to his side. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

  Shit, he can’t even bear to touch me.

  “I’m doing my best to keep that in mind, but it’s hard,” I mumbled, not certain if I was referring to his words or his actions. The urge to cry swelled inside me.

  He looked away and didn’t say anything. When he finally did speak, his tone was no longer soft. “How could you put yourself in danger like that?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Even in the dark, I saw Alex’s mouth set into a tense line. “Getting between Jifga and the villagers.”

  Where the hell did that come from? I wondered. “I wasn’t protecting Jifga. I was protecting Bex and Z.”

  “I know, but you could have been injured or killed. Be more careful.”

  Maybe my Birdzilla brain wasn’t processing information correctly. Why was he so mad at me? “It probably was stupid,” I conceded, “but it seemed right at the time. I wasn’t prepared for the villagers to fight back.” I wasn’t sure Jifga had prepared for that, either, considering the cursory preparations and paltry manpower.

  “Just promise you won’t do it again.”

  The need to weep was rapidly replaced by an inclination to swear. “Fine, but there’s no reason to be a jerk.”

  I couldn’t recall a time when Alex spoke to me with such contempt, and I didn’t care for it one bit. I was a hideous, giant, flying thing but still, we’d shared bodily fluids. I deserved better treatment than this. “First you act like I don’t exist, and now you’re berating me for trying to help our friends?”

  An odd, unidentifiable expression flitted across his face. He paused for a moment, as if he wanted to add something, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and walked away. No, “bye,” or “go to hell, Hailey.” Nothing but his backside, receding into the darkness. Normally, the sight of his derriere would elicit any number of warm and fuzzy feelings in the warm and fuzzy places in my anatomy. At that moment, all I wanted was to reach out with a wing and smack his ass. Heeding Ulut’s warnings, I suppressed the impulse, even though I wasn’t convinced it sprung entirely from the less-than-human parts of me.

  I sat up, still astonished by the interaction. Before I had a chance to wrap my mind around what had just occurred, a rustling in the bushes, followed by a sweet, flowery scent distracted me from my bewilderment. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who heard the noise, and three of the five soldiers guarding Alex bounded into the night toward the spot where the sounds originated. Alex paused and turned to look, then continued back to the jail.

  A few minutes passed, and
the door to the prison opened again. I thought it was Alex, perhaps returning to apologize, but out trotted Ulut, back in dog form.

  “Everything okay out here?” he communicated as he plunked himself in the hay next to me.

  “Just dandy.” My thoughts spewed out much louder and sharper than I intended. “I’m fine,” I said, more calmly this time.

  “Alex certainly isn’t.”

  “Nice to know I’m not the only one sulking,” I mumbled.

  Ulut made the small chuffing noise in his throat. “He asked me to explain why he is keeping his distance.”

  “Really? He isn’t capable of telling me himself?” I was dumbfounded. Did he really just send his errand dog to break up with me? “You tell that gutless bottom-feeder whatever he wants to say, he can do so in person.” I purposely shouted the telepathic message, not caring if Alex heard me.

  “Hailey, shut up!” Ulut growled. And not a metaphoric one, either. A real, honest-to-goodness, menacing dog snarl.

  “Are you going to yell at me, too?” So much for calming down.

  He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “No, I don’t want to yell at you, but you must keep your voice down. Alex is staying away because he doesn’t want anyone here to know how you feel about one another. He and Sebastian are afraid Jifga would use that information against you.”

  “So, you are saying he’s giving me the cold shoulder to protect me?”

  “To protect all of us. If Jifga knew the extent of your relationship, he’d force you to do things by threatening Alex. That would put everyone in danger.”

  “Like he’s not already making me do shit I don’t want to?”

  “You don’t know Jifga the way I do. He can be ruthless and will take any advantage. If he thinks torturing Alex will buy him some leverage, he won’t think twice. In fact, he will likely derive perverse pleasure seeing you squirm. He is used to getting his way, and it galls him that you’ve negotiated terms. He has to view Alex—and Sebastian for that matter—as moderately magical Dekankarans who have no more meaning to you than any of the rest of us. They must fly under the radar for now.”