Rebels and Realms: A Limited Edition Urban Fantasy Collection

by Heather Marie Adkins

  After examining the Night Flyer, Wayne said, “I guess there’s no point in arguing about his bonds since he’s dead…cold as ice, no pulse, and not a breath coming out of him.” With a sarcastic look, he cut the bonds on the being’s hands and feet. “He’s all yours. Now if you excuse me, I need to go and relieve myself.”

  When he left, Chloe couldn’t resist examining the Night Flyer. ‘Aethan’, that must have been his name, she decided. His wounds were horrendous. That devastating fall ending with a broken branch protruding through his chest would’ve been enough to kill any man. His flesh and muscles had been punctured in multiple other places as well as by smaller branches. No bones appeared to be broken, but vital organs had certainly been pierced. Wayne was right about his body temperature and lack of breath. Despite the horrible wounds, as she checked over his body, she couldn’t help finding him the most beautiful specimen of male beauty that she’d ever encountered. He was as well endowed as the Drakonin even though he was of a slenderer build. A perfect synthesis of virility and elegance. She couldn’t resist pulling at his upper lip to examine his pristine white teeth with the fangs that proved him to be a member of the Vampirii. That was the formal name of his race, but since they were considered accursed demons by the people of Dragon’s Faith, his kind were typically referred to simply as the Night Flyers. And yet, there was nothing brutal about his masculinity, such as the impression she got from the Drakonin Cloud Lords. She picked up his arm and flexed it at the elbow. One positive sign that he might not be dead was that that his body remained pliable. She was certain that rigor mortis would’ve already set in if he were deceased. Oddly, the wounds from where he’d been pierced by the branches weren’t oozing blood at all.

  And somehow, she knew he was alive. It was more than intuition. She knew it. It didn’t matter that there was neither pulse, nor respiration. She sensed a thread of life in his body. And she wondered if her certainty on the matter wasn’t due to her latent power. She guessed that he must be in some kind of coma.

  After examining his body, she put her attention to the gold chain at his neck. It had a square shaped pendant bearing a clear crystal jewel the size of a cat’s eye. The sides were adorned with small decorative protrusions. Remembering how dearly she regarded her own pendant, she opted to leave it on his body. Her attention went to the small pouch at the belt around his waist. She found that it opened with an unusual zipper that didn’t have any teeth, just two smooth runners. Within, there was a folded, black fabric which she extracted and held up to get a better view. When unfurled, it appeared to be some sort of body suit that was made out of very fine mesh of slippery micro-scales. It was stretchy but undeniably strong as well.

  “Those are some pretty funky pajamas,” Wayne said and laughed. He had snuck back into the kitchen from behind her.

  “They must carry these suits in their pouches for when they shift back into human form,” she said.

  “Well, you’d never catch me alive in one of those things,” he said, “Anyway, I’m going to get the horses some water.”

  When he left with the bucket, Chloe folded up the strange suit and placed it back into the pouch. She couldn’t resist putting her hand on his forehead. Within an instant, she felt herself soaring through the night sky, her mind flashing with violent imagery. Blasts of dragon fire came at her out of the darkness.

  Chloe snatched her hand back from Cloud Lord’s forehead, ending the images and flying sensation. Had she tapped into Aethan’s brain somehow? She didn’t even know such a thing was possible. With trepidation, she reached out to place her hand upon his forehead again. She had been startled before, but now she wanted to know more. Unfortunately, all she felt was his smooth cold flesh.

  She didn’t know what else she could do for the Cloud Lord, except perhaps to wash his wounds. At the back of an old cupboard, she found an aluminum coffee pot. She carried it out to the well, where she found Wayne puzzling over the metal baton. He was shaking it vigorously in an attempt to get it to extend to its full length. Then he tried whacking the baton against the side of the well.

  “Careful,” Chloe said, “You might damage it.”

  “Ha,” Wayne said, “This thing is harder than a diamond. I’ve been banging it against stone for ten minutes, and there’s not a scratch on the thing. I allowed you to bring back the Night Flyer because I thought we might be able to force him to open it when he woke. But now that he’s dead, it’s pointless.”

  Should I share what I sense about Aethan? Chloe asked herself.

  In frustration, Wayne tossed the baton into the well.

  “What’d you do that for?” Chloe asked.

  “I couldn’t bring it back with me. I’ll be searched head-to-toe when I return. I’ve already got to convince them that you kidnapped me. Imagine how much harder that would be with the artifact in my possession. And if it is some sort of weapon, at least the Cloud Lords won’t get their hands on it down in that well.”

  He picked up the bucket of water and walked out into the overgrown field where the horses were grazing next to an enormous lilac bush. As he walked away, Chloe’s heart grieved again for lack of a future with Wayne. The possibility of staying with me hasn’t even crossed his mind. How much longer will it take for him to realize that I’m completely devoted to him.

  As she mulled over her predicament, she watched Wayne put the bucket of water near the horses. At that instant, two men sprang from the lilac bush and knocked him to the ground. The sheriff’s Regulators! She ran toward the brawl that ensued between Wayne and his assailants. The violent struggle made her realize that she could do little to help since she had no idea how to fight. Remembering the pistol, she pulled it from the holster, took aim, and fired twice.

  The cracks of the pistol shot put an immediate end to the fight. One of the Regulators clutched his bicep where blood flowed from beneath his hand.

  “You hit me!” he said.

  “I meant to hit you!” Chloe shouted back. “Now…throw away your guns and back away from my hostage.”

  She didn’t know how much time the Regulators had been following or spying on them, but she decided to keep up the ruse that she and Wayne had agreed on, just in case. Wayne played the part, walking slowly back under the Regulators’ watchful eyes.

  When Wayne came toward her, she held her gun on him. She marched him toward the house. They walked a certain distance before the Regulators fired a few shots back at them. Chloe and Wayne dashed toward the cover of a stone wall, which they put between themselves and the shooters as they sprinted toward the house.

  9

  PEEKING AROUND THE WINDOW FRAME, Wayne said, “They’ve got us surrounded.”

  Chloe peered from the other side of the window frame and saw men rustling through the bushes. Others were hiding behind tree trunks at a safe distance. Undoubtedly, this was the entire force of the sheriff’s Regulators, combined with other citizens who felt like joining the posse. They knew that the men would charge sooner or later. None of their pursuers would want to wait for surrender considering the longer they were out on the trail, the more painfully they would feel the lack of home cooked food. At the same time, all the men held back at a safe distance, most likely because Chloe had already wounded one of the two Regulator scouts.

  Using a horseshoe hammer from his pack along with horseshoe nails and three baseboards torn from the walls, Wayne had managed to block the front door so they couldn’t be surprised from behind. The house had paned window frames, so if anyone attempted to break in through the windows, they would almost certainly hear it. Wayne had also used a horseshoe nail on every window to keep the men outside from sliding them open. Fortunately, from their position, Chloe and Wayne had an excellent view of the front door and three windows. Almost on cue, six men charged toward the front door of the house.

  “Give them a warning shot, but don’t hit anybody,” Wayne said.

  Easier said than done, Chloe thought as she took aim ahead of the men. The pistol shot a
nd burst of dirt directly in front of their path sent them scampering back toward the safety of the bushes and tree trunks.

  In response, a volley of shots came toward the window, sending shattered bits of plaster and wood flying across the kitchen.

  “Save your ammunition!” The sheriff shouted to his men. “That’s my son in there!”

  Bullets were a precious commodity and apparently, even a witch wasn’t worth wasting so much lead. Chloe and Wayne kept watch while the men congregated in the distance. They were obviously deciding on the best course of action to capture the fugitives without resorting to a prolonged siege. Once the men dispersed, there was no way for Chloe and Wayne to learn their plan—except to wait. Nearly an hour passed before an acrid odor curdled the lining of Chloe’s nasal passages.

  “Smells like smoke,” she said.

  Concerned, Wayne left her to guard the window and ran to check the rest of the house. Flames were licking at the panes of the window on the back side of the house, and a thick black smoke was seeping through the window frame. At that very moment, a rock came crashing through the glass allowing even more smoke to billow into the house. He ran back to the kitchen.

  “Wayne, your father’s coming toward the window,” Chloe said.

  The father approached with his hands raised. Once he was closer, he shouted, “Witch…you can burn here or in town, either way we have you! Let my son go!”

  “What do we do?” Chloe asked.

  The sheriff reflected for a moment and then added, “Son, if you can come out, you’ll have a fair trial. Nobody knows if you’re a captive or a traitor, and I can bear witness that the witch had you at gunpoint.”

  His father guessed our alibi. Chloe determined that the sheriff was more astute than she would’ve previously thought. In some ways, it was the perfect situation for Wayne to escape from persecution. Wayne had a tortured look upon his face. Loyalty to his father clashed with his desire to see Chloe escape to freedom. He needs to realize that its over, she decided.

  “You should go,” Chloe said.

  While Wayne ruminated on his decision, a distant, continuous roar came out of the surrounding woods.

  “Do you hear that?” Wayne asked. “It sounds like a motor vehicle.”

  They peeked around the window frame to see a jeep coming up the dirt road, followed by a large convoy truck with a canvas covered frame over its trailer bed. Despite it being daytime, both vehicles had their headlights covered with black masking material. This was due to the blackout provision. The vehicles drove into the old front yard of the farmhouse and stopped directly in the posse’s line of fire.

  “The governor’s army,” Wayne said, “What are they doing here? Usually, they’re stationed at the border.”

  The men of the armed posse were flabbergasted at the arrival of the army. A stout, black man in his late fifties with an eye patch stepped out of the jeep. He had a close cropped ring of greying hair around his bald crown and on his hip, he wore an ivory handled pistol. The two stars on his shoulders indicated that he was a general, and he walked with a swagger appropriate for his rank.

  As the soldiers got out of the vehicles, the sheriff ran toward the general and the two conferred for several minutes. While this small conference took place, smoke was curling under the kitchen door. Finally, the general nodded, and the sheriff joined his men. The general undid his gun belt and walked toward the house with his hands raised in the air. When he was only ten yards from the window, he made a show of dropping his gun belt to the ground. Chloe let out a sigh of relief because she knew she could never have shot the man.

  The general shouted, “You can come out!” However, when he got closer to the window, he addressed Chloe with a hushed voice, “I guarantee you won’t be harmed.”

  “If you come any closer,” Chloe said, waving her gun. “I’ll shoot my hostage.”

  “If you don’t want to surrender, you’ll both be dead of asphyxiation in a few minutes,” the general said. “Those flames are climbing up the sides of the house.”

  It had to be true. The temperature of the room had risen by ten degrees and smoke was billowing through the cracks in the kitchen door frame. There was no way that she and Wayne could stay in the house.

  “Go ahead,” Wayne said, “I’ll follow you.”

  “How can we trust him?” Chloe asked.

  “What other choice do we have?”

  Wayne was right, as he helped her up to the window frame, she looked back at Aethan who lay stone still upon the kitchen table. I can’t leave him. She cringed at the horrible fate awaiting the Night Flyer, but she understood that dragging him out into the sunlight would prove equally fatal.

  As Chloe paused in the window frame, looking back at the Night Flyer, Wayne said, “He’s dead anyway.”

  His voice made her realize that even if she couldn’t save the Night Flyer, she could at least save Wayne by giving herself up. So, she clambered through the window and jumped to the ground. Almost immediately, her arms were seized on either side by two soldiers who had used the general’s diversion to sneak up to the house and crawl along the foundation.

  Wayne leaped out immediately after Chloe was seized. In turn, two Regulators rushed forward and seized him as well. The rest of the posse came out from their positions surrounding the area, and the sheriff strode up to the general with a satisfied expression.

  “General,” the sheriff said, “Thank you for apprehending the witch. But now, may I ask what you and your men are doing here?”

  “We were out looking for a Night Flyer,” he replied, “One of our scouts claims that he fell from the clouds during the battle. While we were searching, a report of gunshots made us believe there was trouble.”

  “The Night Flyer is in the house!” Chloe shouted.

  The general grabbed her arm. “He’s alive?”

  “He’s unconscious…in the kitchen!” She pointed to the window.

  She wanted to explain that they couldn’t drag his body out in to the sunlight, but the general was one step ahead of her. He turned toward his men and made several hand signs.

  With remarkable efficiency, two of his men sprang into action and leaped back into the bed of the truck. The convoy truck backed up to the house so that the entry to its canvas covered trailer was perfectly aligned with the kitchen window. The canvas sides of the truck acted as a veil for what transpired next. Despite not being able to see the ensuing action, Chloe realized it was a brilliant manoeuver. The bed of the truck was at the perfect height for the army men to jump through the window, enter the kitchen, and extract the unconscious Cloud Lord. Less than a minute later, the truck pulled away from the structure, presumably with the Night Flyer inside. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  At this point, the mob of townspeople who comprised the posse crowded around the rear entry of the truck in an attempt to get a look at the Night Flyer. While the majority of the posse were distracted, the general motioned for one of his men to come toward him. This soldier was colossal in stature, possibly even taller and more muscular than the Drakonin lords. But whereas the Cloud Lords were attractive, this man had small beady eyes set into thick, almost crude facial features, which gave him an unnerving appearance.

  “Thad, please help the young lady into the back of the truck,” the general said, addressing this abnormal hulk of a man.

  The giant lumbered toward Chloe and the circle of men surrounding her broke open to let him pass. Nobody seemed to dare to stand in his way. With a predator’s smile, he reached out for Chloe’s hand, and when she put her hand in his own, she felt as dainty as a mouse. His hands were as powerful as a gorilla’s, and his grip swallowed up her fingers. She was certain that he could crush every joint if he wanted to. The enormous man gave a jeering snort toward the wary men and led her away from the circle.

  The sheriff refused to be intimidated. He grabbed Chloe’s arm and pulled his pistol from its holster, pointing it directly at Thad’s face.

  “The witch isn
’t going anywhere,” the sheriff said, “she’s coming with us.”

  As the two stared each other down, their conflict alarmed the posse members who lost interest in trying to get a glimpse into the truck. There were shouts of agreement among the Regulators and the other townsfolk who had joined the posse. A few members of the crowd shouted out, “Burn the witch!”

  Thad smiled, completely unconcerned by the sheriff’s gun and the commotion. With a cocked grin, he gave Chloe a sly, perverse look.

  “It’d be a damn shame to burn such a pretty piece of meat,” Thad whispered, his voice tinged with teasing sarcasm.

  Beyond his appearance, Thad’s bizarre demeanor sent a chill down Chloe’s spine. She found him terrifying in every way, and the idea of getting into the convoy truck with him was nearly as frightening as being left to the mob.

  “Gentlemen!” The general barked with militaristic authority, “My power comes from the governor. He has declared the burning of citizens to be barbaric! Please go back to your community!”

  A voice from the crowd yelled out, “But she’s a witch! She has to be punished!”

  “We no longer punish witches with burning,” the general announced. “The governor has determined the practice to be inhumane. Instead, she will be given treatment.”

  The word ‘treatment’ was repeated amongst the crowd with incredulity. If his pronouncement had been made to calm the men, it had failed. Confusion and anger reigned amongst the men creating an ugly backlash. There were shouts that witches didn’t deserve treatment.

  Chloe was certain that if the general’s outnumbered soldiers weren’t armed with automatic weapons, the posse would have overpowered them. In fact, she even wondered if the threat of automatic weapons could keep them at bay. Her fear was mingled with perplexity at being the object of so much contempt and hatred.

  The general appeared unfazed by the mob. He stood tall and yelled, “By treatment, I mean that we have a new way of putting an end to witchcraft. She will be lobotomized! Won’t that satisfy you people?”