by H B Lyne
They got seated and Rhys immediately grasped her hands across the table and leaned close. 'I was really worried about you,' he whispered.
'I'm sorry,' she said, looking down at their entwined hands. She felt terrible. They had shared a passionate kiss up on the cliff in Fenwick the night before she changed for the first time and she had collapsed in his arms then. The next time they kissed she had felt the bond with her pack break and ran away from him. It must look so bad to him, yet here he was, holding onto her hands so tightly that she was sure her circulation would be suffering if she were normal.
'It doesn't matter. You're OK, that's what's important.' Rhys reached a hand out and stroked her face. She tilted her cheek into his hand and felt the warmth of his palm against it.
It felt so good to be with him, so right. She longed to feel his lips on hers again, preferably without any interruptions. She wished she could just let everything spill out though, that she could tell him everything about her life and explain why she had run away the other night. But she had to protect her secret life and it made her insides ache to withhold so much.
Reluctantly, she pulled away and took her jacket off. She turned around to hang it on the back of her chair.
'Oh,' Rhys said, startled. 'You got ink?'
Her hand went back to the tattoo on the back of her neck, exposed for the first time.
'Oh, yeah,' she said, smiling. 'Do you like it?'
'Yeah. Is it a rune?' he asked, frowning.
'Yeah,' she faltered, thinking furiously for a meaning that she could share. 'It means something to do with wisdom.' A half-truth. Odin was also a god of wisdom, as well as war. Rhys nodded in appreciation.
'Nice,' he smiled warmly at her.
They ordered food and lunchtime passed all too quickly before he had to head back to work. They walked out of the café together, Rhys's hand on her back right where her swords would be if she had them, but they were still at her flat. As they stepped outside she swung her jacket on and turned to face him. She didn't want to leave his company and return to the dingy house in St. Mark's and she leaned against him, resting her forehead on his chest. He stroked her back and stepped closer to her. She looked up into his dark eyes and he leaned close to kiss her. His lips brushed hers softly, his hand went to her cheek and she felt the butterflies swarming in her belly.
She broke the kiss reluctantly and gave him the best smile she could manage when it caused her so much pain to be saying goodbye.
'This was really nice,' she said softly.
'Yeah, it was,' he replied, returning the smile. 'Are you able to meet me on Tuesday night? I could cook dinner for you at my place.'
'That would be really, really great,' she grinned. 'All being well, yeah, that sounds like a good idea.'
Rhys kissed her again and Stalker's heart pounded so hard in her chest she thought he might hear it. Her subconscious alerted her that she could actually hear his heart beating just as hard with her heightened senses. As they parted, Stalker was smiling and their goodbye was a happy one, full of promise. Stalker didn't stop smiling all the way back to St. Mark's and if anyone gave her a wary look, she was blissfully ignorant.
She decided she needed to get off the bus at her flat and collect her dha. She had dropped the precious swords off at home on the day of the attack on the Blue Moon, which with hindsight, proved to be very fortunate. Her flat was just the same as always, gathering dust through lack of use. Her post was piling up and she spent a few minutes checking through it. There was nothing that seemed remotely important, not now. Bank statements and phone bills were the least of her concerns.
She hurriedly collected the swords from her wardrobe, where she kept them secure in their carrying case and left her flat. It hardly felt like hers any more and she had no real desire to return to it. The betting shop had become her home and now 32 Grove Street was. She had nothing tying her to this place now. Yet she was reluctant to let it go. Something inside her told her to keep a place of her own, just in case. In case of what? she asked herself. But there was no reply.
Stalker took the familiar walk from her flat to the dojo where she worked. It was high time she checked in there and made arrangements to return to work. It had been more than two weeks since she changed and the excuse of bereavement only bought her so much time. She needed to protect her income and more than that, she wanted to return to work and see her students. She had always loved teaching and she really wanted to go back to it. She just didn't feel ready yet. If the Blue Moon hadn't been destroyed then she would have felt ready, but the devastation was a serious blow. She had used the excuse of a bereavement to buy time and life had turned it into a reality. That was karma, she supposed.
She approached the familiar corner building, the abandoned electronics shop with the lively little independent dojo above it, and made her way up the narrow staircase inside. The office door stood open, as it usually did, and her boss, Ron, sat tapping away at his computer. She knocked on the door and he looked up, surprise and recognition lighting up his round, red face.
'Ariana!' he cried, standing up to greet her. 'How are you, love?'
She couldn't help but smile, and walked into his cluttered little office.
'I'm okay, thank you,' she replied and approached him for a brief hug. 'How have things been around here in my absence?'
'All right,' he said, sitting back down as she took the chair opposite him. 'It's not been easy, but we managed. We're really looking forward to you coming back.' He gave her a hopeful and cautious look, as if he was expecting her resignation.
'Oh me too, Ron,' she reassured him quickly. 'I can't wait to come back.' The lie tripped off her tongue too easily.
'Oh good,' he sighed. 'I've got your normal classes scheduled to start the day after tomorrow. Normal Tuesday groups through the afternoon. Is that okay?'
'Yes, that's fine. Thanks.' It would be a big day of normality for her, work, followed by a date. She stood to go and gave Ron a parting smile. Sadness tugged at her, though she didn't really know why. She was leading a double life, and somehow she knew that it was going to be incredibly hard.
Chapter Ten
Fights-Eyes-Open
Eyes looked out of the living room window anxiously as the street light outside flickered to life under a darkening sky. He knew that on the other side of the veil, somewhere nearby, there was a reasonably powerful demon snaking its way through pools of light, feeding off the energy of the lit streets. The Lightning Lords had a new ally who fed off power energy, all sorts of power, but chiefly electrical power. They also had an intruder. They needed to defend their territory and to do that they would need more allies.
He went to Weaver, who sat drawing at the kitchen table.
'The plague doctor again?' he asked, looking over her shoulder at her sketch.
'I can't get it out of my mind. This is a message from Artemis, I'm certain of it. It's a gibbous moon in the vision too, which is what it is now.'
Eyes rubbed his eyes hard with his fingers. One thing at a time, he told himself.
The front door opened and he looked down the hall to see who it was. Stalker walked in, looking like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled warmly as she walked up the hall and entered the kitchen.
'Good day?' Eyes asked, curious to know where she had been and with whom.
'Yes thanks,' she replied.
Eyes hoped for her to elaborate, but he wasn't going to actively pry. He missed the pack telepathy that Grins-Too-Widely had granted them. Unchained Lightning hadn't given them the same power, Eyes didn't know yet what their new ally could do for them and given the state they had found him in, he doubted that even the fae himself knew.
'I collected my swords,' Stalker said, beaming.
She hoisted up the bag in her hand to show them.
'Oh,' Weaver said, looking up from her furious scribbling. 'I'm glad they're safe. I assumed they'd been in the shop.'
'No,' Stalker replied. 'I'd take
n them back to my place the day that it happened.'
A dark flicker passed across her face, Eyes noticed, he felt it like a ripple around the three of them. Sometimes it felt like they were all trying too hard not to mention the Blue Moon and what had happened to them.
'Good timing,' Eyes said quietly. Stalker nodded and put on a brave face.
'So, what's happening?' she asked.
Eyes tried to find the words to answer. He knew they needed to act, and he had a hunch about what might work, but he wasn't certain and he was reluctant to come out with half a plan.
The front door opened and slammed shut with a bang as Wind Talker stormed up the hall, his face fuming.
'What's wrong?' Eyes barked.
'Weird fucking shit!' Wind Talker bellowed.
He walked to the corner cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a small glass, poured himself a shot and knocked it back. Everyone watched him. Eyes studied him carefully.
'How did it go with the Storm Riders?' he asked tentatively.
Wind Talker barked with laughter that bordered on hysterical.
'Fine,' he said, his laughter stopping suddenly. 'Fine. I saw, I saw something in Hepethia.' Wind Talker poured another shot and knocked that one back too.
Eyes tried not to laugh. He didn't know Wind Talker nearly as well as he knew the women. He was something of an enigma.
'What did you see?' Weaver asked, moving closer to Wind Talker and gently sliding the bottle along the worktop away from him.
'Ha!' Wind Talker barked again. 'That's not really important. The more pressing issue is the Knights of St. Catherine's coming onto our territory to mug people. That is the real issue.'
Eyes felt his stomach tense up.
'Who are the Knights of St. Catherine's?' Weaver asked with an exasperated sigh.
'A human gang,' Eyes replied. 'I've had dealings with them from time to time, in court.'
He remembered a case a year or so ago, involving a young lad who had been charged with aggravated assault. He had been the prosecuting barrister. He had won.
'What were they doing on this side of the river?' Stalker asked.
'I don't know,' Wind Talker said, some calmness returning to him. 'I witnessed the mugging; they had this guy down an alley and knifed him. I chased them off and tried to get this guy to hospital, but he wouldn't go. So I walked him home instead. I don't know how bad it was, maybe it was just a scratch, but I could smell the blood.'
'We will need to do something about the Knights, we need to keep them out of our territory,' Stalker said calmly. She still had her sword bag in her hand and Eyes noticed her thumb caressing the handle. She was right, and if his plan worked, it would be the solution to both the Knights and the intruder.
'I have an idea,' he said authoritatively. 'A couple of days ago I encountered a demon on our territory that might be able to help, if we can ally with it. Let's cross over now and see if we can find it.'
'OK,' Stalker and Wind Talker said at once. Stalker immediately got her swords out and strapped them to her back, where they disappeared; their magic melding them to her body until she needed them, in whatever form she might happen to be.
Weaver hung back a little and Eyes caught her arm and looked searchingly into her eyes.
'What? What is it?' he asked quietly.
'I'm not sure,' she whispered, shaking her head. 'Nothing, don't worry.'
Eyes reluctantly let go of her arm and marched to the back door. He trusted Weaver's judgement above any of the others, but she had to learn to trust herself too. If she wasn't going to open up and give him her opinion outright then he would have to go ahead without it.
The four of them crossed the veil and found Unchained Lightning making slow, lazy circuits of the small garden. He looked at them as they appeared and came to a gradual stop, his long body rippling. The whole garden glowed with his white light.
'We're going on a hunt,' Eyes told the fae. 'Would you care to accompany us?'
The elemental flexed and his light brightened for a moment, then he lifted his head and soared up and over the roof of the house towards the street.
'I think we can take that as a “yes”,' Stalker smirked.
Eyes smiled and led the pack back through the house and out onto the street. He stopped to close the door and placed a hand on the plain, black surface.
'Lock,' he commanded. Sure enough, there came the clunking sound of a bolt followed by the rattle of a chain. Hepethia had obliged with some basic security. 'Wow, I wasn't sure that would work.'
Weaver smiled and gave him a little wink.
Unchained Lightning swooped over the roof and up into the sky towards the clouds. Eyes watched for a moment as the bright white flared up against the dark sky and then disappeared through the clouds.
'He'll be back,' Eyes said, half to reassure the others, who looked on with worried and quizzical expressions, half to convince himself.
The four of them set out from the house, walking cautiously up the middle of the road with Stalker taking the lead. Her senses were sharper than the rest of them, so she was the obvious choice to track.
Hepethia always made Eyes uneasy. The streets were usually too quiet and he could feel the buildings and shadows watching them. He didn't have the first clue how to find the dragon-like demon that he had seen, he just hoped that it would find them.
They walked for a few minutes, trying several different streets. Eyes was just beginning to wonder if he needed to do something to attract the demon's attention when Stalker held up a hand to halt them. Eyes heard it then, a moaning sound and a softer, slithering sound. He moved up next to Stalker and they took a few cautious steps forwards towards the street corner.
Eyes peered around the corner and saw the demon making slow circles around a lamp post. He indicated to Wind Talker, who came up and looked carefully around the corner of the building.
'Its name is Holds-to-the-Light,' he whispered.
The demon stopped in its tracks. It turned towards the four shifters huddled at the corner and sniffed its way towards them. Eyes took a breath and stepped out of the shadows to confront Holds-to-the-Light.
He had intimidated the thing once already and he hoped that it remembered and would be subservient to him. It was bigger than he remembered; it lifted up at the front and towered over him. A lump rose in his throat and he felt Weaver and Wind Talker just behind him, there to back him up.
'Holds-to-the-Light,' he greeted the demon with as much command to his voice as he could muster. 'We are here to enlist your help in protecting this territory, our territory. We will ensure good street light coverage in exchange for your assistance.'
The demon regarded him for a moment and Eyes felt a glimmer of hope, just for an instant. Then the attack came.
The dragon lunged at him and would have swallowed him whole if he hadn't just managed to dive to the side in time. He shifted form with a roar and leapt up to fight. The others shifted too and began the assault, four impressive Agrius, snarling and ready for action. Eyes jumped onto the dragon and dug his claws into its back. The demon roared and reared up. Eyes was thrown down onto the street and he rolled reflexively away and up onto his feet.
The dragon had no feet and sort of hovered a few feet above the ground. It twisted around and repelled attacks from the others as Eyes watched for a few seconds to assess the situation. Stalker came bounding across the street and drew her swords.
The dragon swiped at Eyes and knocked him to the ground, it pounced on him, pinning him down and Eyes struggled against his enormous bulk as the huge, black teeth lowered slowly towards him. He was vaguely aware of the chaos around him but all he could see was the orange light shining from inside that mouth, and then he felt the teeth sink into him and everything went black.
Chapter Eleven
Stalker-of-Night's-Shadow
'No!' Stalker growled. She leapt forwards and drove both swords into Holds-to-the-Light's neck. It released its grip on the Alpha and r
ecoiled away from them. Her swords left two long rips in its body, and glowing, orange ichor spilled out onto the road.
Wind Talker and Weaver pounced, ripping into the gashes left by Stalker's swords and pulling scales off the dragon. Stalker slipped under the dragon and sliced at its belly with her swords as it twisted and writhed around, trying to shake them off.
Weaver went flying and landed with a crunch on the road, and Wind Talker slid down the dragon's side; his feral claws were still digging into it and they ripped it open as he fell. The demon roared and backed away from them.
Stalker sensed rapid movement above her and looked up into the black sky. Racing down towards them was a lightning bolt, Unchained Lightning. He hurtled down from the sky and struck Holds-to-the-Light. Stalker felt the impact vibrate through the ground and up into her body, and the electrical discharge filled the air, erecting all of the hair on the shifters' bodies. Holds-to-the-Light slunk slowly away up the street, dripping its orange blood as it limped away. Smoke rose from the ground where Unchained Lightning now stood.
Wind Talker stood nearby, panting. Weaver dragged herself to her feet and limped over to them. Eyes lay unconscious on the floor, his blood spilling onto the tarmac. Stalker ran to his side, shifting form and sheathing her swords fluidly as she ran.
'Well, that worked well,' Wind Talker scowled.
'We have to get him back to Grove Street,' Weaver said authoritatively.
The three of them hoisted Eyes up off the ground and carried him awkwardly back around the block to the house. The locked door opened for them as they approached and Stalker stared at it as they squeezed through the narrow passage with Eyes propped up between them.
They crossed the veil and carefully laid Eyes down on the sofa. His body had morphed back into his human form and was trying to heal itself, but he hadn't regained consciousness yet. They watched and waited. Wind Talker paced a lot and occasionally bent over Eyes to examine him.