Wind Demon Triology: Book II: Evil Wind

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  "Are those what Onar used on you?” Beryla asked.

  "Aye,” he whispered, reliving the agony the bastard had inflicted on him long ago.

  "They are needed to remove the implants, Kam, but I swear to you, you won't feel them going in this time,” Beryla said. “You'll be asleep for the entire procedure."

  Tina was introducing some kind of milky substance to his IV line and he watched the liquid dropping down the tube.

  "Count backwards from one hundred for me, okay?” Tina said.

  Cree swallowed then let out a long breath. He looked into her eyes. “One hundred, ninety-nine...."

  The liquid flowed into his arm.

  "Close your eyes,” Tina instructed and when he did, she glanced over at Beryla. “He's learning."

  "Ninety-eight, ninety-sev...."

  The women watched him try to finish the word and when he couldn't, his entire body seemed to melt into the table.

  "He's out,” Tina pronounced.

  "Let's get to it, then."

  A robotic arm moved into place over Cree and a gridline of pale green lights appeared on his head. At the cross-sections of the grids, a pulsing red dot showed exactly where each implant was located.

  Starting with the easiest implants to remove, Aurora sectioned off a small area of hair over the entry point and held it aside for Beryla. Since the probe was as thin as a glass filament yet as tough as a diamond drill bit and attached to an ultra-high speed laser pack in the handle, it easily slid through the layer of skin covering the Reaper's skull and penetrated the bone like a hot knife through butter. The wafer-thinness of the probe would make brain resection and retraction unnecessary. Laser guided to the implant, it was flanged at the end so it could open like fingers to grasp the implant. A minute camera was embedded high up in the probe and a view of the implant, its position, and the lesions around it was transmitted to a screen over the operating table. Positioning the probe directly over the implant, Beryla activated the flanged end to attach it to the implant and then retract it slowly.

  The first five removals went smoothly and fairly quickly with no intracranial bleeds or unnecessary invasion of the tissue surrounding the implant. The sixth removal in the frontal cortex proved to be a bit more challenging.

  Dorrie had entered the room quietly, no one paying any attention to her as she joined the other women at the operating table. She was gowned and masked just as the others were in dark maroon surgical garb.

  "You aren't supposed to be in here,” Beryla commented as she worked to get the probe around the sixth implant. “He didn't want you here and he won't like it."

  "Then don't tell him,” Dorrie said as she slipped her hand into the Reaper's and threaded her fingers through his.

  There was no more talk as Barb blotted Beryla's forehead and every eye kept flashing to the screen over the table.

  "Damn,” Beryla said, rotating her head from side to side to help relieve the strain. “This thing is buried deeper than it was ever meant to be and the lesions around it need to be excised first so I can get at the implant."

  "Can you use that probe to do stereotactic excisions?” Aurora asked.

  "Not this one. It was never meant for such a thing,” Beryla said and gently withdrew the probe. “That's what the second probe is for. It has a cutting edge on its flange."

  "Sort of like the old Cyber-Knife technology when I was in med school,” Caitlin remarked.

  "Exactly,” Beryla said and picked up the second probe that was longer than the first one. “How's he doing?"

  Tina checked the readouts for their patient. “Going with the flow,” she said. “Everything looks good."

  Once more the room fell into silence as Beryla slowly inserted the second probe and worked methodically and quickly to excise the lesions caused from the migration of the implant.

  "When Onar tortured him, he dislodged the implant,” Beryla said. “I wish I had that bastard on this table right now. I'd show him what pain really is."

  "Onar's toast,” Dorrie said. “I talked to a woman who helped throw that bastard's body onto the fire."

  "I remember how he ordered all those brutal sessions for Kam,” Ivonne remarked. “Especially that second go-round that was completely unnecessary."

  "The only reason Onar did that was to get his jollies watching Kam suffer,” Dorrie grumbled.

  "I remember those three sessions all too well,” Beryla said. “The bastard kept asking Kam if Bridget was worth being punished for.” She frowned. “I wondered then and I'm wondering now if Onar didn't have a thing for Kam."

  "He liked men,” Ivonne said. “That may have been why he did it."

  "I'll never forget the look on Bridie's face when her Reaper told Onar that she was worth it,” Amala said.

  "That's the first lesion,” Beryla said. “I think I can use the other probe to extract it."

  It was a time-consuming procedure that ate up the clock. By the time the fourth of the lesions surrounding the sixth probe had been extracted, Beryla had been standing at the table three hours, but she was able to clamp onto the deep implant and remove it. She held it up for everyone to see.

  "I'll wager this is the bugger that's been causing him so much pain,” she said.

  "Six down and one to go,” Aurora said. “Wanna take a break, Beryla?"

  Beryla shook her head. “No, I want to get this done."

  "The removal of the other Reapers’ implants shouldn't take this long, do you think?” Dorrie asked.

  "They won't,” Caitlin spoke up. “I've done biomaps of each of the other eleven and their implants are right where they are supposed to be with no lesions surrounding them."

  "What about the twelfth Reaper?” Beryla asked.

  "That's our female and she doesn't have any implants,” Caitlin told her. “The implants were a Rysalian thing and the Multitude saw no need to give them to Danielle."

  "I'm happy to hear it,” Beryla said. She flexed her back. “Let's get this last one, ladies."

  They had saved the hardest for last and it proved to be buried so deeply in Kam's brain, it took another hour for Beryla to retrieve it. By the time she was finished, the lesions surrounding it excised, she was exhausted, no longer accustomed to such intense and complex surgical work. She stretched with her hands to the small of her back and let out a long, heartfelt sigh.

  Dorrie stood where she was as Barb and Lisa moved into place to remove Cree's straps.

  "He is a very handsome man,” Barb said as she looked down at the Reaper's sleeping face.

  "I remember the first time I saw him,” Dorrie said with a smile. “He came into the Be-Mod unit like an enraged bull. Here was all this power, this authority, this danger strutting through the door in that intimidating black uniform. I took one look at those fierce amber eyes, that brutal expression, and hated him with every fiber of my being.

  "When did that change?” Lisa asked.

  Dorrie shrugged. “I really don't know. We had him in our hands longer than any other patient and we did things to him that I knew were tearing him apart and yet he managed to smile at Bridget."

  "The sublims were responsible for that,” Amala commented.

  "Partially,” Dorrie said, “but I don't think it was entirely the sublims. Remember, the reason the Resistance chose her was because he'd looked at her that time in passing."

  "And because he did, his entire world was turned upside down,” Ivonne said. “If he had known what that one look was going to start.... “She cocked one shoulder. “I agree, though. I think it was meant to be between him and Bridie and if you were to ask him, he'd tell you he'd do it all again to be with her."

  "He loves her that much?” Barb asked.

  "Girl, you don't know the half of it,” Dorrie said with a snort. “That man worships the woman. There isn't another woman in the world for him except her."

  "And how does she feel about him?” Lisa asked. “Wasn't she given sublims, too?"

  "Aye, but he is the love
of her life. The sublims eventually wore off, but the love has held,” Amala replied.

  "They were meant to be together,” Dorrie said, stroking his bare arm.

  * * * *

  Before she left to take a quick shower and change back into her regular clothes, Beryla had given instructions on how Cree was to be cared for. She wanted to make sure he was kept immobile for at least twenty-four hours to give his parasite time to heal all the invasive work that had been done in the Reaper's brain. “It's up to you,” she'd said to the revenant worm. “Try not to hurt him."

  She turned to Amala, Tina, Ivonne, and Aurora. “I know you're anxious to see your men so get going. Caitlin's crew can handle him from now on.” She looked at Dorrie.

  "I'm not going anywhere,” Dorrie said.

  After cleaning up, Beryla went in search of Tylan, Caitlin beside her, but her heart was hammering like a piston wanting—needing—to see her husband, Lares. With every step she took, her breath was more erratic, her blood pounding in her head.

  "I had them assemble in the conference room,” Caitlin told her. “I know they'll be anxious to hear the details.

  "Anxious,” Beryla repeated, craving only the sight of the man she loved and hadn't seen in six years. There was no doubt in her mind that it had been deliberate on his part that he had not come to greet her when she and the others came on board, wanting her to concentrate completely on helping Cree.

  The elevator couldn't move quickly enough to take them up to the bridge deck where Caitlin told her the conference room was. She was shifting nervously from foot to foot, dipping her knees like a little girl in need of peeing as she glared at the deck number readout. When the doors opened, she knew he would be there waiting.

  And he was.

  Beryla flung herself into Lares’ arms and their lips met like suction cups. Her legs went around his sturdy waist, her arms clamped around his brawny shoulders.

  "He was wearing a hole in the floor with his pacing,” Khiershon told his lady as she entered the conference room.

  "She was about to drill a hole in the elevator cave floor,” Caitlin replied.

  Tylan and Raine were already seated at the long table along with the other eleven Reapers, Iyan McGregor, Elena Vargas, and Akkadia Kahmal. Khiershon escorted his lady to her seat then sat down beside her. No one spoke but everyone could hear the noises coming from the corridor. Ten minutes passed as the noises died down to a low mumble.

  "Get a room, guys, or join us,” Tylan finally called out. “It's your choice."

  Husband and wife entered the room, straightening their clothing, Beryla's face flushed, and Lares grinning broadly from ear to ear. He led his wife to an empty chair and waited until she was seated before pulling his chair as close to hers as he could get it and seating himself, reaching for her hand.

  "How's our boy doing?” Tylan asked. He was sitting with his elbows on the arms of his chair, his fingertips pressed together under his chin.

  "He came through the procedure extremely well, but I would prefer he not be awakened for at least twenty-four hours,” Beryla said. “That will give his parasite plenty of time to heal him."

  "But he'll be good as new?” Raine wanted clarified.

  "I would venture to say better for he will most likely no longer have the migraines,” Beryla said. Her gaze swept over the eleven Reapers and she smiled. “I am hoping none of you will when we remove the implants."

  "That would be a great benefit,” Khiershon spoke for them all.

  "We haven't contacted Bridie, yet,” Tylan said. “We wanted to wait until we knew everything was going to be okay."

  "Understandable,” Beryla agreed. “Did Ro-Ro give you the coordinates of her cabin up in the Black Hills?"

  Tylan sighed deeply. “Aye, she did and that is something we need to talk about."

  Beryla saw the frowns that suddenly slipped over the faces of those gathered at the table. “Has something happened?"

  "I'm afraid so,” Tylan answered.

  * * * *

  Bridget had been as astounded by her son's question to Viraidan Cree as she was by the Reaper's reaction to it.

  "How much do you know of us, young one?” Cree asked.

  Jaelin swept his eyes toward his mother. “I guess I know just about everything,” he replied. “I know you are shape shifters and that you have to have blood and some kind of drug in order to exist."

  Cree motioned the boy to a rocking chair and the two of them took a seat. “It's a bit more complicated than that,” he told Jaelin, “but basically you get the concept. The blood we call Sustenance and the drug is called tenerse."

  "I thought it was Triso,” Jaelin said.

  Bridget let out a wavering breath. “Who told you about this, Jaelin?"

  Jaelin shrugged. “One of the Keepers told me."

  "Who?” Bridget demanded.

  "Don't get mad at him, Ma. I saw you start taking a shot every day and even though you told me you had developed diabetes, I didn't buy it. I never saw you checking your blood sugar levels so I knew it wasn't insulin you were taking.” He ducked his head. “I thought you were getting into some kind of illegal stuff to help you live with Dad being in prison. I was so worried about you that I had to have someone to talk to. I knew Aunt Beryla or Aunt Ro-Ro wouldn't tell me. They would think I wasn't old enough to handle it so I asked Pete Michaels."

  "I'm going to pulverize that little twerp,” Bridget swore.

  "The boy was concerned, Bridget,” Cree said. “Better he know his mother is a Reaper than to think she is a drug addict."

  "When you would go off on one of your trips, I thought you might be going to rehab,” he said. “Pete said you went to some place where you could Transition."

  "What did you think about that, Jaelin?” Cree asked.

  Jaelin grinned. “I thought it way cool,” he said. “My mom the lycanthrope!"

  Bridget groaned and buried her red face in her hands.

  "It didn't frighten you?” Cree probed.

  "Heck, no!” Jaelin said. “I figured one day I'd get all furry, too, and I couldn't wait.” His eyebrows shot up. “Is that why you keep asking me weird questions about how I feel, Ma? Am I gonna get all furry when I start getting hair down there?"

  Cree laughed and gave his wife a shake of the head.

  Bridget's face turned redder still. “Did Pete tell you where your father really is?” she queried.

  Jaelin shook his head. “He wouldn't tell me, but he did say Dad really was a prisoner and that friends of his had gone after him."

  "Did this Keeper tell you your father came from another galaxy?” Cree inquired.

  The boy's mouth dropped open. He looked at his mother. “No, sir! Is that true, Ma?"

  Bridget nodded, unable to answer.

  "Cool!” Jaelin pronounced. “Way cool!"

  "Where did you think Reapers came from, Jaelin?” Bronwyn asked.

  "Well, I just thought it was like Transylvania or Germany or some place like that. Isn't that where werewolves are supposed to come from?” the boy questioned.

  Cree smiled. “I came from Chale and your father from Rysalia. Those worlds are in a galaxy called Domhan, many millions of light years from Terra."

  "I think we should leave Bridget and Jaelin alone to discuss how she came to know his father,” Bronwyn told her husband.

  Cree's smile slipped away. “Aye, but there is the other thing, Bronnie. We...."

  "We can discuss it tomorrow,” Bronwyn stated, getting up from the swing. She turned and looked down at Bridget. “Discuss everything with your son, Bridie.” Her brow furrowed. “Everything."

  "We'll come back over tomorrow,” Cree told her. “Plans need to be made."

  Bridget nodded and sat there in the swing as her visitors left the porch and then melded into the darkness that had now settled over them, the sun having slipped behind the mountains.

  "What plans, Ma?” Jaelin asked.

  Bridget patted the seat beside her on t
he swing and her son came over, sliding under the arm she held out to drape around his shoulders.

  "You know about the troubles in the Middle East,” Bridget said.

  "That fanatic everyone's talking about?” Jaelin asked. “The man with the blue hat?"

  "Blue turban and yes, that's the one,” she said. “Apparently things are really starting to heat up and the Crees...” She smiled. “The other Crees are concerned that we are on the brink of a nuclear war."

  "That's their name, too?” he asked, his young face bright.

  "Apparently so but I don't think he's any kin to your father."

  "But you don't know,” Jaelin said, hope flooding his voice.

  "No, sweetie, I don't know.” She hugged her son to her. “But I guess we need to talk about this then go in and call Aunt Beryla. Viraidan believes we should all get together here. He and Bronwyn have a fortress they have constructed beneath the ground. We would be able to live there until we could come back up."

  Jaelin threaded his fingers together with his mother's. “I agree,” he said then sighed deeply.

  "What is it, baby?” Bridget asked, smoothing the hair back from his forehead.

  "I guess the barbeque on Saturday night is outta the question, huh?"

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Dorrie was at his bedside when he awoke. She smiled at him and tightened her grip on his hand. “Hey there, big boy,” she greeted him.

  "You look tired,” he said.

  "It's not tiredness, darling,” Dorrie said. “It's fear."

  The Reaper's brow creased. “Fear of what?"

  "Tylan Kahn has been chomping at the bit to talk to you, unable to bear waiting until you were awake but Beryla insisted. He's out in the corridor pacing like a caged...."

  "Is Bridget all right?” he interrupted her, struggling to sit up but she put a hand to his chest and pushed him back down.

  "Your lady is fine. She is in the hills of South Dakota and out of harm's way for now."

  "For now?” he asked, his heart racing. “What do you mean for now? What's going on, Dorrie?"