Storm's Fury

by Nya Rayne

  Stormy turned and ran. This whole day, and the night before, had been a tale worthy of Alfred Hitchcock. And now she had a thing halfway between the Night of the Living Dead and the Creature from the Black Lagoon demanding her blood.

  “Enough is e-freaking-nough.” She wanted back into normal civilization. She wanted cement beneath her feet, not grass as soft as a fur coat. She wanted dogs that ran from their shadows, not enormous beasts that tried to pass for dogs. She wanted drug dealers and pimps on the corners, not an insatiable, kidnapping, GQ-worthy being whispering words of fancy in her ear. Okay, maybe the last part wasn’t all that bad, but the rest she could do without.

  Where are you, Ambrosia? His voice was in her head and all around her.

  “Fury,” she whispered. She struggled for each breath as she kept her feet moving away from the cave and the man-thing. She wasn’t about to turn around or stop. She wanted out, damn it. She wanted civilization. She needed normalcy—her kind of normalcy, even if her way of life wasn’t all that normal.

  Stormy chanced a glance behind her. It wasn’t following her. “Wh-Why isn’t it following me?” Not that she wanted it to, but in the movies, didn’t the monsters always chase down the damsel and eat her innards after she tripped over an invisible pebble?

  Fury was in her head again. Ambrosia! He said it with such authority she faltered momentarily. She reached the edge of the forest and fell flat on her face, her head barely missing a large tree trunk. Love, tell me where you are. I’ll come and get you. Tell me where you are.

  She pushed up onto her hands and knees. Wasn’t he supposed to be all-knowing or something? So why the hell didn’t he already know? She peered around her in all directions, expecting the man-thing to come bursting through the line of trees at any moment.

  Nothing happened.

  It didn’t come.

  Cicadas chirped, frogs croaked, an owl hooted in the distance and the wind played within the leaves of the trees, but it didn’t come for her. She waited another second, and then another, holding her breath, trying to be invisible just in case it was lurking, waiting for her to let her guard down.

  Still, it didn’t come.

  After waiting a moment more, Stormy used the trunk that had nearly aided her in her lobotomy to push herself up. Her stomach clenched in trepidation, and her heart stuttered within her chest as she took in her surroundings.

  “Where the hell am I?” She pounded the ground in frustration and bit on her tongue to keep from screaming. If the man-thing was searching in a different area for her, she damn sure didn’t want to give away her location.

  Ambrosia, are you okay? What’s wrong?

  She scanned the area again, trying desperately to ignore the jackass invading her mind. “Why the hell is he in my head, anyway? What part of ‘I’m not talking to you’ doesn’t the asshole understand?” she grumbled.

  Directly across from her was a monstrous mountain that climbed high into the sky until the tip disappeared in a patch of cumulus clouds. Between the mountain and her was the meadow she’d seen in her dream—the one where Fury died.

  The location of the moon behind the redwood and pine trees surrounding the field allowed enough moonlight to bounce off the green splinters of grass and dance amongst the cranberry, canary yellow, and walnut brown leaves hanging from each of their hundreds of limbs. The scene was so serene, Stormy found herself humbled by the beauty of it.

  It reminded her, in a way, of all the things wrong in her own life and of all the things she would never have. And at the same time, it reminded her that in a world as ugly as her own there were still instances of beauty and grace such as this.

  Ambrosia, talk to me. Tell me where you are. He was quiet for a moment and then added, You need proof that I’ve not lied to you, right? Do as I ask and you’ll have it.

  She shook her head and started running again, wanting to dislodge his voice from her brain. No. She didn’t realize what she’d done until he responded.

  That’s it, love. Envision us having a conversation face to face and tell me where you are. Only my true chosen can speak to me this way.

  She tripped over a downed limb, stumbled over a large rock, but kept her footing as she raced through the forest, her destination unknown. She honestly didn’t care where she went as long as it was away from the meadow and Fury’s death.

  Where the hell were Brutus and Sodona when she needed them? They could guide her back to Fury’s house, or better yet, they could lead her to the nearest county road. Fury said they wouldn’t hurt her, hadn’t he? If they were here and that man-thing came back, she could trust them to protect her. She wanted to laugh at her own thoughts, but she couldn’t find the energy to do so. Those were notions born of desperation and fatigue, nothing more. But still she prayed, envisioning the hellhound and his mate coming to her rescue.

  “You’re losing it. No, no, Stormy. You’ve already lost it,” she said.

  Damn it, Ambrosia, talk to me! His tone was caught between demanding and begging now.

  She forced his voice away, envisioned a wall between them and a never-ending ocean of blackness separating them. Ever since she was a child, she’d done this whenever she was faced with something she didn’t want to deal with, and it had always worked like magic. The problem would vanish. Hopefully, it would work this time as well. If she told him where she was and he came to her, Fury would die, just like in her dream, and it would be because of her. For reasons she didn’t want to examine, the idea of his death didn’t leave her feeling at all rosy. It left her feeling heartbroken and lonelier than usual.

  The earth gave way beneath her left foot and she hit the ground with such force that the air rushed from her lungs in a woosh. She cried out in shock as a dull ache reverberated up through her hips and spread outward into her buttocks and lower back. Stormy dug her nails into the dirt surrounding her and pawed for something—anything—she could grip that would give her enough leverage to haul herself up out of the hole she’d fallen into.

  “You have the luck of the damned, Stormy,” she whispered, “the luck of the damned Wyatts.”

  Her hand found a root not much bigger than a broom handle, but it was sturdy and seemed to be attached to the base of a tree. She grabbed it tight, pushed forward and pulled up.

  She didn’t budge an inch. This was it. This was the moment when the man-thing would come bursting out of the trees and gorge on her blood.

  Stormy tightened her hold on the limb again and pulled with all of her strength. Pain washed over and through her, damn near blinding her. The wall she’d erected in her mind fell away and she screamed out of agony, fear, and frustration.

  Fury was in her head again instantly. His tone soft, yet reprimanding. Whatever you just did, don’t do it again. Don’t shut me out, Ambrosia. I can feel your pain, your fear. What happened?

  Sheer exhaustion and the knowledge that she was literally stuck had her following his previous instructions. She envisioned him standing tall and strong before her, his beautiful eyes reading the secrets of her heart. His presence filled her. He was in her mind, his arms surrounding her, pulling her close. The ache in her lower back and hips turned to soreness and eased enough for her to think. You can’t come, Fury. You’ll be killed.

  Nonsense. You’re in pain. You can’t think I would leave you out there.

  Send someone else, but don’t you come out here.

  Where are you?

  She looked around her and tried to hide the thought of the meadow and the cave.

  She was too slow.

  I’m on my way.

  Fury, don’t do this. She didn’t want to see him hurt, or worse. She couldn’t watch him die again. The first time was enough. I’ll never accept you if you come here. She was reaching, knowing the one thing he wanted from her was, well, her.

  He fell quiet, as if entertaining the idea. I’m sorry you feel that way, but I can’t leave you out there. My only goal in life has been to protect you at all cost. I don’t have
any other choice. And if I did, rest assured, I would still come to your aid.

  Noise to her right and left drew her attention away from Fury. Stormy looked up into the large eyes of Hell’s Hound himself. Brutus. She turned to look over her shoulder and watched Sodona’s barrel head lopping in her direction. Tongue hanging out the right side of her mouth, as her nose wriggled, taking in scents as her eyes scanned the area around them.

  What is it? Fury was on the move. She didn’t know how she knew, but she was certain he was.

  At his question, relief washed through Stormy. She didn’t know these dogs, didn’t care for them, hadn’t fed them, and until now had been deathly afraid of them, but the mere sight of them told her she was safe. Like a part of Fury himself was there with her, soothing her.

  Brutus stepped closer to her, nudged her cheek with his nose, and licked at tears she wasn’t aware were spilling down her cheeks.

  Brutus and Sodona, she told Fury.

  She raised her arms and placed them around Brutus’s neck when he moved closer to her. In that moment, she was thankful he was a mad scientist’s creation. Because of his size, he needed only to stand to his full height to pull her far enough out of the hole that she could secure a place on the solid ground. Once on flat earth again, Stormy stretched out, Sodona lying at her feet and Brutus curled beneath her head. She reached for Fury once more. Did you send them?

  No, you called them to you.

  I didn’t, she denied. She pushed up and looked back into Brutus’s alert and intelligent eyes. He held her gaze for a long moment before he scanned the surrounding area in the same manner Sodona did.

  Dogs don’t lie, love. Unlike humans, they don’t know how. When you told me they were there, I reached out to both and they reported the same thing. You sent them images of the area of the forest you’re in, along with a plea for help to get back home or to the nearest road.

  I was only thinking, Fury. I didn’t…She lifted her head to look down at Sodona. This is crazy. All of this.

  We’ll talk more later about it. How did you get to that cave?

  Realizing he’d been rummaging through her mind without her consent, she ground her teeth. Finish reading my mind and figure it out.

  I don’t read your mind if it is not absolutely necessary. When you think to keep important things like this from me, you leave me with no other choice. Now, if you don’t want me back in there, I’ll ask you again. How did you get to the cave?

  Stormy glared up at the few stars visible through the canopy of trees. I don’t know. One minute I was in the hall looking for the door and the next I was in the cave.

  Did you see anyone?

  Not anyone, but I saw something. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t a full man. It was like a degenerate form of a zombie or something, but it could talk. It said it wanted my blood, and it chased me, I think—

  Your blood?

  It didn’t exactly say “your blood,” it said, “blood.” But I knew what it was talking about.

  It talked? He cut her off, which under normal circumstances would’ve annoyed her.

  Yes. It was hiding in the darkness behind me. It…It was so grotesque, Fury. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. What…What have you gotten me involved in? I want to go home! I-I…The sound of a low growl coming from near her feet brought her up short. Stormy looked down at Sodona to find her standing up, her head lowered, her hackles raised. Brutus followed suit mere seconds later. Fury, something’s wrong. It’s here. It found me! Jesus, it found me!

  I’m less than a minute away. Stay between them. Whatever it is, they won’t let it get near you, love. Just stay between them.

  As if she was going anywhere else.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Surveying the area below him, Fury relayed the information he’d gotten from Stormy to Crul. She had said the person or thing had talked to her and demanded her blood. That and the fact that she equated its looks to a zombie, initially pointed him to a Yazaron. But that couldn’t be, because he, Crul, and all of his canine pack would have felt its approach. It had also spoken to Stormy, which should have been impossible. Anubis’s curse had turned their vocal cords to stone. That left Hatrid, whom he’d reached out to mentally, but was greeted with nothing but silence. Hatrid also had the power of illusion, which he sometimes used to imitate the Yazaron while hunting them. He didn’t want to accuse his brother of kidnapping, but if it scuttled like a dung beetle, it was probably a damn dung beetle.

  He shook his head, not wanting to allow his thoughts to go in such a direction. Even still, it didn’t explain the role Terroar played in all this.

  Fury called up his humanoid form as he landed a few feet behind Brutus. The dog immediately ceased his warning growl and padded over to him. Sodona, on the other hand, continued her low growls.

  Good for her, he thought. Female dogs did tend to be more possessive of their pack than males.

  Stormy turned to face him, her face lighting up for a fraction of a second before she scowled at him and turned away. She was going to be the death of him, he was sure. The white T-shirt she wore was grimy, her hair disheveled, and her face smudged with dirt and bat guano. Still, she had to be the most attractive woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

  Fury settled down on his haunches next to Stormy and assessed the damage. Outwardly, there wasn’t anything wrong with her. There were no serious injuries from her fall. She would be fine in the long run, but there would definitely be some soreness and bruising.

  “How you feeling?” As he spoke, he scanned the area and prayed it wasn’t Hatrid he found.

  Stormy glared up at him. “I was kidnapped for a second time. Run off by a man-thing, and got stuck in a damn hole. I guess you could say I’m as happy as a punk with a bag of dicks.”

  “Has anyone ever washed your mouth out with Clorox?” Fury couldn’t help but smile as he scooped her up and stood to his full height.

  “No one has been foolish enough to try,” she retorted with defiance. “Are you saying you want to be the first?”

  Turning in a slow circle, Fury scanned the surrounding area again. Someone is watching us. I’m going to lay you on Brutus’s back. Can you hold on long enough for him to get you to Crul’s?

  Is it the man-thing?

  I don’t know, but I doubt it.

  Her hold tightened around his neck. Whatever it is, you have to go with me, Fury.

  I’ll be right behind you, I promise.

  She peered up at him, green eyes reflecting every ounce of doubt she felt. No, you won’t. This is the meadow I saw you die in, Fury. We have to leave here together. I won’t be held responsible for your death.

  Listen to me. I am of Anubis. Until the last of Anubis’s blood runs dry, I will continue to be. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. He could die if his head and body were separated at the exact moment the sun set in the west. His body would then have to be burned separately and the ashes scattered in the East on an easterly blowing breeze at the exact moment the sun rose on the seventh day after the decapitation. Fortunately, very few beings knew how to truly kill an Anubi.

  Your head separated from your body? Ashes scattered in the East on an easterly breeze? The disbelief in her tone and utter horror on her face told him everything he needed to know. The slip of a woman had read his mind. He hadn’t believed she was strong enough to do that yet, but she had called Brutus and Sodona to her rescue, hadn’t she?

  You’re reading my mind and you’re talking to me as only a chosen mate could.

  She blinked at him in astonishment and dismay. “It means absolutely nothing.”

  “It means everything.” He had the feeling if he told her rain was wet, she’d have to check before she believed him.

  “To a pervert like you.” Her pout didn’t quite reach her eyes, and for that he was grateful.

  The atmosphere sparked as the light breeze twisting around them turned to gale force winds. A ball of blue violent electrici
ty hurtled toward them. Fury leapt straight into the sky, Stormy locked in his arms. He twisted, raised a hand to the clouds, and called on the lightning, directing it to the spot where he thought the attack had originated. The lightning connected with the base of a tree but, from what he could tell, didn’t strike a person.

  He scanned the area and scented the air around him, but nothing seemed out of sorts. The next attack came in the form of ice spears, spiraling at them from all directions. Fury twisted his body, curling it around Stormy’s as he dodged one spear after the other.

  One he had missed punctured through the back of his right shoulder and narrowly missed Stormy.

  “Shit!” He closed his eyes, pushed the pain down, and called on Hell. The ground far beneath him rumbled and rolled before splitting open in a gaping hole that resembled the Devil’s snarl, complete with elongated fangs. Lava poured up and over the lip, and then burst high into the sky, raining down in a deluge of fire. It encircled him and Stormy in a safety net of Hell’s fire. The ice spear impaled in his shoulder melted away, along with the fifty plus spears still spiraling in their direction.

  “My God, Fury, you’re bleeding!” She pawed at his shoulder.

  “It’ll heal.” He sent out mental fingers, searching for a hint of where the loathsome bastard was hiding. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so, but you’ve got some explaining to do. Where did this fire come from? Why isn’t it burning us? Who the hell is attacking us?”

  Fury laughed and found it entirely unnerving; they were under attack by a cloaked foe, and he was laughing. It was unheard of. “Have I told you that you ask entirely too many questions?”

  “And you’re still not answering any of them,” she growled as she peered down at the ground and the fire spraying up and surrounding them.

  The moment Stormy looked up, Fury kissed her with every ounce of pride and adoration he had in him for her. She was the best and the worst thing that had ever happened to him.