Treat (Terraway Book 5)

by Mary E. Twomey

  I hadn’t seen Mason wolf out, but he dove into the mix, tearing as much as they did like the true guard dog he was. His gray fur was soon matted with streaks of blood, but he didn’t seem to feel it. He bit down hard and tossed bodies with a flip of his overlarge head before moving onto the next.

  Bishop and Boston were a powerhouse team, punching, stabbing and outright throwing as many as they could get their hands on.

  I don’t know how it wasn’t enough, but even Ezra’s gun and rolled-up sleeves didn’t keep the Manas from lifting my bloody and torn body off the ground. Despite my fear of falling, I thrashed mid-air as one pinned my arms down around my torso and the other grabbed my feet, smashing my ankles together. All I could do was try and twist around in their grip as they flew upward and east.

  I heard Ezra’s gun, but knew it was no use. They took me higher and higher until shooting them down would be detrimental if I fell.

  I heard a second set of grunts I couldn’t do a thing to help soothe. Bishop was being carried by a separate group of Manas, his fight no match for their numbers.

  Twenty-One.

  The Queen of Lumipad

  I cannot describe what it felt like to fly above the world at too high an altitude for proper breath for so long. The world felt like it was moving at a different pace than it actually was, and I didn’t know what to make of it. I’d never been flying before, and guessed that now I most likely never would. The Manas knew what they were doing, flying us too high for us to maintain our fight with so little oxygen, but not so high that we died.

  When we finally descended more than half an hour later, I was lightheaded from the altitude and weak from all the vomiting. I couldn’t feel my fingertips, and my lips felt fuzzy.

  The house we were flown into was an abandoned colonial on a dead-end street. There were rose-colored shutters framing the windows that had the curtains drawn inside. There was a mailbox I stared at, imprinting the address in my mind. Of course, I didn’t know what street we were on, but numbers had to narrow it down a little. We were flown in limp to the house, but I stiffened at the sight that greeted us – a row of at least forty bottom halves. From the waist down, standing in lines like soldiers in black leather pants were the butts and legs of the Manas who’d attacked us. I watched with horror as one by one, the Manas materialized when they plopped their invisible upper halves down onto their legs. It made a slurpy sound that ended in a loud bone pop as they fused with their lower halves enough to walk around. Their overlarge batwings tucked inward, folding like origami to make what could be mistaken for a leathery black backpack if you weren’t too close up.

  I would not freak out. I would not freak out.

  Bishop crawled over to me, covering me with his body as I collapsed to the wood floor. “Do what you want to me, but let her go. You hurt her, and the whole of Terraway dies, including all of you.”

  A woman with black lipstick on her too large lips leaned over, her long bangs hanging down a centimeter past her eyebrows as she flipped her waist-length raven hair over her shoulder. “Oh, puppy. What we won’t do to you.” She chuckled darkly and clicked her fingers. “Show our guests the best room in the house,” she ordered, her voice simultaneously cold and amused. With the way the others obeyed without hesitation, I could tell Black Lipstick was the one in charge.

  Bishop made a show of holding his hands up to indicate we would cooperate, but the Manas didn’t care about that. They jerked him up, giving him a few gut punches and knees to the groin before dragging him down the stairs.

  I was stepped on a few times, lightly kicked just so I knew who was boss, and dragged by my hair down the uneven wooden steps after Bishop. We were thrown into the dank, cold basement. When the horrible monsters left up the stairs, they shut us in the dark, alone with only each other, our battle wounds and our fear.

  “Bishop?” I whispered, not sure how much blood either of us had lost at this point. I knew my face and arms were gouged up pretty bad by their razor-like claws. The cold, stale air stung the long rips in my thighs and calfs. I wanted to cover the deep cuts, but I knew they’d only sting more if I touched them. My voice sounded painfully fearful, and I worried what that said about our chances of escaping. If I was afraid, then part of the battle was already lost. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Where are you?”

  Bishop groaned a few feet away, so I crawled over to the sound, collapsing next to him on the freezing concrete. I could smell dust and decay of some sort, and winced at my many injuries that I knew needed bandages or stitches. As soon as my arm touched Bishop’s, he exhaled and pulled me into his side, wincing at the simple contact. “Are you alright? I mean, you’re in one piece?”

  “Nothing’s broken,” I hoped. “Barely a scratch on me. It’s like they want us to escape.”

  Bishop let out a one-noted laugh at my attempt at humor. “Wusses.”

  “Can I help? What hurts?”

  “Only all of me. It’s a chore to breathe. Do you think they cracked my ribs?”

  I pressed my fingers to his side, waiting for the telltale howl that didn’t come. “I don’t think so, but if they’re bruised, it might still feel like they’re broken. Try not to move. Rest while you can.”

  “No time for that. They’re building their game plan up there. Can you see a way out?”

  “I can’t see anything! I don’t think there are windows down here, and neither of us are in any position to fight our way past them.”

  Bishop held me tight. “If they want information from you about the stone, where it’s hidden and whatnot, then they’ll use me to get you to talk.” He shook his head. “No matter what, you can’t give them anything. Not a word. Don’t answer when they speak.”

  “Use you?” I knew what that meant and gulped audibly. “I don’t like this. What can we do?”

  “Hold out as long as we can, yeah? Hope that the guys find us. Boston can always find me. Twin thing.”

  “Let’s hope that happens in the next five seconds.”

  Bishop squeezed my hand as a wave of pain hit him. “Talk to me, October. Distract me from it all.”

  I cast around for anything. “Um, I um, Ollie’s probably freaking out. And did you see Ezra’s face? I’ve never seen him so scary. He was amazing. All of you were.”

  “Why were you throwing up today? Danny made it seem like Mariang only gets sick if she reaps too much. But you were sick after your first one.” He paused. “Are you pregnant?”

  Well, that was a good distraction from the pain and terror. “No! Of course not. I’m the furthest thing from pregnant a girl can get.”

  “Okay, okay. Help me to sit up. I don’t want to be totally defenseless when they come back for us. Let’s see what we can find to use as weapons, yeah? They nicked my knife.”

  “Lousy knife nickers,” I groused, slowly helping Bishop to his unsteady feet. “Use the wall for support. Feel your way around the perimeter and see what you find.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Bossy little Omen, you are.”

  “Little? You’re twenty-three. I’m only a year younger than you.”

  “But I’m so much cooler.”

  I was grateful for the slight chuckle Bishop gave us both. The banter was important; it kept us from crazying up the place even more with blind terror.

  Without lifting up my shoes, I shuffled my feet across the basement, reaching out in the pitch black that was so stifling, I could feel the oppression pressing in on me from all sides. I tripped twice over the toe of my shoe, banged into a hard, flat object that felt like a sled or something, and found a collection of paint cans that were a third of the way empty. “I’ve got paint cans,” I whispered to him. “They’re not all that heavy, but maybe we can do something with them.”

  I could hear the smile in Bishop’s voice, making his sneaky tone sound more like Boston’s than anything else. “Oh, good find. Well done, little sister.”

  We shuffled around, collecting rags, cups, a few old knickknacks I couldn’t make
heads or tails of, and the odd broomstick that felt like it had been used on every room in the world except for this cobwebby hole. Bishop and I met in the middle of the basement, foregoing the fact that we barely knew each other and indulging in a gentle hug as we tried not to hurt the other’s many wounds. Bishop’s voice was gentle enough to soothe me. “You should lie down. Von would tell you to conserve your strength. You really had the crap end of it today, yeah?” We inched over to the far corner and lowered ourselves to the cold floor, huddling together like the scared children we were.

  I evaluated our options, coming up with no way out, and too many to fight against who were far better equipped than we were for a takedown. I said the thing neither of us wanted to admit aloud. “We’re going to die down here, aren’t we.” It wasn’t despair; it was fact.

  “Shh, there’s no use talking like that, love. Let’s give Ezra some time to find us, yeah? And Mason’s a decent tracker. He won’t abandon his charge so easily.”

  “We were flown here. There’s no trail to track,” I pointed out.

  Bishop squeezed my hand. “I need a smidge of hope, yeah? Not even a whole handful of it. Just a smidge to make it through. I need to get out and back to my family. My brothers need me, and Terraway needs you.” He shook his head. “Boston must be in a right state.”

  “Boston’s our hope in this?” I asked, dubious.

  Bishop chuckled and then inhaled sharply at the sting in his ribs. “Yes, Boston’s sometimes unfocused. But he’s also fearless. No one I’d want fighting by my side more than him and Von.”

  “Jury’s still out on my end. Boston might be good with fighting, but he’s not so great with talking to women.”

  “Ah, well everyone has their flaws. Boston’s never been one for serious conversations or even the bare minimum of normalcy when a pretty girl’s in the room.” He nudged my side as if to tease me.

  “Ha, ha.”

  We sat in silence a few minutes before the fear started creeping up on me. “Your turn to pick a topic. I’m starting to freak out, so distract me with something.”

  “I notice you’re more comfortable with Mason now. That’s good.” He’d caught wind of our distance on one of our many phone chats.

  “Mason’s great. I imagine he’d be able to make anyone comfortable. He’s got that way about him.”

  “I didn’t think he’d ever move on from Kara. It’s good to see the way he looks at you. Keep Von on his toes.”

  “Mason doesn’t look at me like anything. And he’s not moved on from Kara. It’s complicated.” I fished for a change of subject. “If you were back home, what would you be doing for fun right now?”

  “I’d probably be playing the piano at the pub in town. Nothing amazing, but well enough for the people who pay me in pints.”

  “Huh. That’s neat.” I’d almost distracted myself from the awful doom, but cruel laughter reached us from upstairs, making my blood run cold. I held tighter to Bishop, and he squeezed my hand.

  “Now, now. Let’s not let them smell our fear, yeah? Manas are plenty strong, fast and smart. This won’t be an easy out. Best save the real fear for the end, or perhaps not even then.” He leaned his cheek to the top of my head. “Remember, don’t tell them anything. They stole us; they don’t get to steal information, too.”

  The door at the top of the steps opened, and we stood to face the oncoming danger. The woman with black lipstick moved slowly down the steps. She was a cat approaching the flirtation with her mouse before she devoured the rodent whole. She wore black combat boots that laced up over her calf muscle. Her tight black leather outfit made me shrink inside my long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans as I held tight to Bishop.

  “Well, well, which one of you can tell me what happened to my sagrado stone? I thought I sent a clear enough message by stealing your vampy Reaper. If you don’t give the stone to Lumipad, you’ll lose the people you love.” She pouted out her lower lip, her face illuminated by the foot of light filtering in from the top of the steps. “Maybe you don’t care about your Reaper, but you might care about this one. This is your boyfriend, right?”

  Neither of us answered her, but Bishop stood in front of me, his chest barreled as much as he could. “Serena, you’re daft to think you can manipulate an Omen. What do you even want out of this? To find the stone and… what? Give it to your land? The council’s already doing that.”

  Serena hissed at Bishop. “I want the whole sagrado stone, and I want Dagat to die, wishing they could have a taste of it. They sat back and watched while we wasted away, while our crops died and our animals fled. I want them to waste away now. The drought hit us too, you know. They didn’t lift a finger to help.”

  “You know the Omen can’t act without council approval, and they haven’t been able to meet to discuss moving Lumipad up on the list.”

  Serena looked up at the ceiling in thought. “I wonder why that is. Could it be because they can’t find Queen Sylvia? Where on earth could she be?” Serena was pleased with her game, her fingers splayed out in dramatic flair to her question. “Could it be that she’s tied up right now? A little busy?” Her eyes clouded over with a sinister glare that pierced Bishop and worried me. “Dear old Sylvia’s dead. I make the decisions now.”

  Bishop scoffed, which I’m guessing wasn’t his best move. “What’re you on about? You’re the military commander. There are like, three people ahead of you who would inherit the crown first. You’re batty, love.”

  Serena’s bat wings fluttered in response at her sides, the leathery tips dangling near her fingers. “Maybe so, but wouldn’t you know it? None of those three want to stand up to me. Two are in hiding, and the other will be killed off when we return home. Funny how sometimes things just work themselves out.”

  “That’s quite the plan. Too bad the council won’t recognize you as the queen.”

  Serena’s nostrils flared and she straightened, her fists clenched at her sides. “I’d like to see you take the crown only I wanted enough to fight for. Sylvia was running our land into the ground. I can only sit back and watch my people starve for so long before I step up and do something. She let us starve, but sure, I’m the tyrant.”

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night, princess.”

  “I won’t sleep until your little girlfriend tells me where the stone is. Do you want to make me hurt you? Is that what you want?”

  He didn’t speak, but the message was clear. She would have to go through him to get at me.

  This didn’t seem to bother her one bit. She cleared the distance and scraped him clear across the cheek with her claws, making him wince and drawing out his fight. Bishop lunged for her, and the two scrapped for a total of two horrible minutes as I tried to be useful, throwing in the occasional punch before she called for backup. Bishop knocked her head to the side with one blow from his heavy fist.

  Serena seethed in my direction as she spat blood. “I didn’t think you’d make me hurt him, but now I’m going to have to.”

  A handful of Manas leaped down the stairs at her command, pinning all four of Bishop’s limbs down to the ground so they could take turns kicking him. “Stop! Stop it! Let him up!” I punched the nearest one, knocking her off Bishop’s arm so he could at least have one limb free. I picked up a paint can and knocked another of the Manas unconscious, stomping on her face with the heel of my shoe when she hit the ground.

  Bishop was able to struggle with the two left, gaining enough ground so he could sit up, but Serena called for reinforcements before Bishop could stand. Serena ripped me from the fight as more assailants descended on Bishop, and pinned me to the wall. “I want you to watch while we break your boyfriend’s kneecaps.”

  “No! Stop! I’ll tell you anything! I’ll tell you about the stone!”

  “No, October! Not a word!” Bishop cried between blows. There were six vicious women on him now, each one trained for combat and killing.

  Serena held up her hand, and the women resumed their restraining positions. �
�Tell me, little Omen. Tell me all about my stone.”

  “It’s already in Lumipad. It’s on its way to your well now, if it’s not there already. All this is for nothing. You’re getting your portion, like we promised. I can’t help the whole Dagat getting a piece of it thing. It’s not my decision. I have very little to do with any of it.”

  Serena slammed me into the wall over and over again, my teeth rattling. “Do you think lying to me is a good idea? Break his kneecaps!” she ordered as I screamed.

  “But I’m tell you the truth!”

  “I know you’re the only one who can touch the stone, and I have you here! It couldn’t possibly be in Lumipad on the way to the well. Lies!”

  The women dragged Bishop upstairs where I could hear him undergoing who knows what kind of trauma. He howled over and over as something hard brought him to a new level of agony. I was frantic, clawing at Serena and the two lackeys who stayed behind with her so I couldn’t get to Bishop. “No! No!”

  Serena was much bigger than me, but I didn’t go down without knocking the wind from her a few times. She had to call for yet more backup, and it took four of her crazy batwomen on steroids to lower me to the ground. My stomach pressed against the cold concrete as they ripped my shirt up my back and over my head, cackling like the evil villains they were. I writhed and fought with everything in me.

  “Now I can’t kill you, but I can make life miserable for you. How would you feel about a scar right here?” She drew the outline of something wide and rectangular over my bare back with her pointy fingernail, laughing at the goosebumps that erupted on my back. “I think that would look pretty. Then you’ll always know who you belong to.”

  “Screw you! I told you everything I know!”

  “Except for the truth. Tell me where the stone is!”

  “It’s in Lumipad!”

  I thrashed around as best I could, but there were five of them. My bra was cut open and my screams operatic as a knife sharper than anything I could picture cut into my skin, taking its time as the artist made me her bloody canvas.