It poured through my veins like lava, shutting down my logical thought. But I didn’t try to fight it. Instead, I let it rush through me, engulfing me with fire. Sweat poured down my back, my shoulders jerked, and my body coiled. I heard Josephine gasp.
‘Close your eyes,’ I growled.
She obeyed, burying her head against my chest. I bolted for Matthias and Thaddeus, running as fast as I could go. Wind whipped my hair and stung my eyes as my feet pounded over the wooden slats. I clenched my teeth, gathered my strength, and leapt into the air.
The force of my spring was unbelievable. I sailed upward like a high vault jumper with Josephine tucked in my arms. The gray figures hissed in surprise as we passed over their heads. For a split second, I felt a twinge of hope that we might actually escape.
Then, without warning, pain – a pain like I’d never experienced before – ripped my back, tearing it apart. I screamed in agony as I felt muscles rupture. My shirt tore from my body as spears of pain thrust through my shoulder blades. I heard bones crack, skin split, and my lungs heaved for air that wouldn’t come.
My body convulsed. I plummeted towards the bridge with Josephine’s muffled screams hot in my ears. I lost my grip as we hit. Josephine was thrown free with the force of the impact, but I was helpless to stop her. I collapsed to my knees – screaming again – as the pain overwhelmed me.
My claws elongated and ruptured through my fingertips, sinking deep into the wooden planks of the bridge. The remains of my shredded tunic fell away as I writhed and jerked, consumed with the torturous pain in my back. Tears poured down my cheeks, my eyes burned in their sockets. I felt my teeth slice into my lip. I tasted my own blood.
I prayed to die.
And then, suddenly, the pain stopped.
My body arched as my lungs expanded with precious oxygen. A strange energy buzzed along my skin. My senses returned, and with them, the intense protection instincts. I lurched to my feet but staggered forward, my center of gravity off. I tried to compensate as I searched frantically for Josephine.
She was pressed against the railing of the bridge, staring at me, terrified. Her eyes darted from my face to my bare chest, and then over my shoulder, fixating on something just behind me. I looked back.
At first, my brain couldn’t comprehend what I saw. Two massive objects hovered over my shoulders, flapping gently in the breeze. Folds of grayish-black leathery membranes spread over long, bony appendages that seemed to be attached…to me. My throat constricted as my mind finally produced the word it had been searching for.
Wings.
I doubled over in horror, but the movement threw me off again. I widened my stance, trying to keep my balance. The massive objects shuddered violently in response.
No…
I stared at my hands. The gray skin was stretched thick over muscles; the claws were far more hideous than before. I clenched them into fists. Oh, God, what had I done? Josephine was still frozen; the color drained from her face, her wide eyes fixed on me.
‘Josephine,’ I whispered.
She pulled herself up, clinging to the railing, her body trembling. But before I could say anything else, warning prickles went down my arms.
I turned, moving unsteadily on my feet. Anya and the others stood motionless in the center of the bridge, their silver eyes blazing with fury. Why hadn’t they attacked while I was down? Anya lifted her chin and sniffed the air. Suddenly, the three figures vanished into the mist.
A group of men burst onto the road, their cloaks billowing in the breeze. Arrows sliced the air, embedding in the bridge around me. Josephine screamed. I spotted Quentin at the head of the group. He notched an arrow to his bow.
‘Get away from her, gargoyle!’ he yelled.
Something sliced through my arm, just above the shoulder, and I snarled as Quentin’s arrow sunk into a wooden beam behind me. Blood wet my skin where the arrow had grazed my flesh. I fell back, lava heating in my veins, and everything clarified before me. There were ten men with Quentin, all armed with bows and arrows, their faces twisted with hatred. I snarled again, taking in the sharp, glittering arrowheads aimed straight at my heart.
‘Quentin, don’t hurt him!’ Josephine cried.
The tall Gypsy notched another arrow, his face dark. ‘Get away from him, Josephine,’ he ordered. His silken voice was laced with malice. ‘He’s one of them.’
She stared at me as though I was a stranger, her emerald eyes full of fear. And if the gray figures were any indication of my present condition, I could hardly blame her. She turned to Quentin.
‘No, he was trying to protect me.’
‘Don’t let him fool you, Josephine. He’ll kill you if he gets the chance. He’s been deceiving you all along.’
‘That’s not true,’ I shot back.
My voice sounded strange: thick and tinged with a growl.
I struggled forward, but two men lunged in front of me – blocking my path – and two arrows were suddenly at my throat. Their sharp tips pricked my skin. I gnashed my teeth, feeling an uncontrollable desire to attack. But my actions disturbed Josephine. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she backed away, straight to Quentin. The Gypsy lowered his bow and placed his arm around her trembling shoulders.
‘I tried to warn you, Josephine. But now you see him for what he really is.’
‘He’s a guardian,’ she protested.
Quentin scowled. ‘Those are just fairy tales, you know that. Do you honestly think he’s some kind of guardian angel? No, Josephine. Look at him. He’s a demon.’
Her gaze returned to me, and the uncertain look in her eyes hurt me far worse than any arrow ever could. ‘Josephine,’ I pleaded, ‘don’t believe him.’
Quentin shouldered his bow and approached. He studied the fluttering things at my sides. When he looked at me again, his face was a mixture of amusement and disgust.
‘I don’t know how the Corsis did it,’ he said. ‘Keeping you hidden away, looking so human. If I’d known they were harboring an abomination like you, I’d have stuck an arrow in your gut the second we arrived in Sixes. Your kind doesn’t deserve to live.’
‘Let me go.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t do that,’ he replied. ‘I have to protect Josephine from you.’
I couldn’t hide the wounded look I knew passed over my face. Quentin seemed pleased that his words struck such a chord.
‘I would never harm her,’ I said softly. ‘I only want to keep her safe.’
‘I’m the only protector she needs.’ His voice was as biting as liquid poison. ‘You’re just like the rest of them, an animal that needs exterminating. You’re the enemy, gargoyle,’ he sneered, pressing his face close to mine. ‘And before this is over, Josephine will thank me for killing you.’
I let out a roar and grabbed for his throat, but I found myself flat on the ground as the two men hit me hard. I flailed, but a knee pressed into my neck, holding me down. Quentin leaned over me, a wicked smile on his face.
Suddenly, my new wings came to life, stirring up dirt and rocks in a violent whirlwind. Quentin leapt out of the way. I kicked hard, and my wings snapped out at the same time. The force of the blow sent the men hurtling backwards. I rolled into a crouch. My new sense of strength was exhilarating. Quentin hesitated, and for the first time, I saw uncertainty – even fear – in his eyes.
I braced myself, concentrating on the long extensions jutting out of my back, letting my instincts guide me. I rolled my shoulders; the wings moved in tandem. I flexed my back, and the wings collapsed and folded against me. The weight of my body immediately shifted, and I could move freely again. My lip quivered with a threatening growl.
Quentin’s bow was up in a flash, an arrow gleaming. ‘That’s enough, gargoyle.’
There was a horrible screech, and two figures dropped from the trees, landing between us: Matthias and Thaddeus. They were without their cover of mist, and I saw the massive wings sprouting from their backs.
Wings just like mine.
/>
I was temporarily forgotten as all arrows were trained on the other two gargoyles. The men spread out, taking aim and preparing to strike. Matthias laughed, his teeth glinting his defiance in the dim light. Quentin ordered Josephine behind him. Then I realized that one gargoyle was missing.
Anya.
A blast of wind knocked Josephine off her feet. But she landed and rolled, cushioning her impact with the skilled movements of a performer, and threw her hands protectively in front of her face. Smoke billowed, and Anya’s form appeared. With movements so fast I could barely register them, she wrenched Quentin’s bow from his hands and sent him sprawling through the air.
Arrows flew and gargoyles leapt into the group of Marksmen. Anya had one hand around Josephine’s throat, dragging her across the bridge, taunting me. Josephine kicked and fought in her grasp. My entire world went blood red. I broke free of the battle around me and ran after them.
Josephine lashed out, striking the gargoyle across the face. Anya hissed between her sharp teeth and squeezed tighter. Josephine gagged and clutched at the iron fingers around her neck. Anya leapt onto the railing, dragging Josephine with her. And then, they both slipped over the edge.
‘Josephine!’
I retreated to the other side of the bridge, hardly believing what I was about to do. My feet dug into the planks, and I pushed off, picking up speed as I sprinted for the rail. My back jolted as my wings suddenly unfurled to their full span and caught the air with one heavy flap.
I was airborne.
My body knew instinctively what to do, but I couldn’t make everything cooperate. For a panicked moment, I careered wildly out of control, losing altitude and plummeting towards the river. Desperately I tried to right myself as my wings folded back on themselves like an umbrella in a windstorm. Somewhere up ahead, Josephine was in danger, and that one thought pumped fresh adrenaline into my veins. A roar ripped from my chest, and I pushed upward with everything I had.
Air caught the leathery folds as my wings expanded once more, and I concentrated on beating them rapidly. My muscles ached with the exertion, but the action worked. My downward spiral stopped as the world turned right again. I soared upward into the night sky.
Smoke curled through the forest, making Anya’s wake easy to follow. I pressed forward, leaving the bridge and the river behind. But as soon as I hit the tree line, I realized my mistake. Anya had led me here on purpose. My mammoth wings were too large for my new and uncoordinated muscles to maneuver.
Branches littered my path, and I did my best to dodge them, but it was no use. I didn’t have enough control to reduce my speed. The branches slung me around like a rag doll as I ploughed through them. Then, mercifully, I was through the trees and into the open. I spread my wings wide, my shoulder blades cramping. I hissed in frustration. What good were wings if I could barely stay aloft?
A mass of gold and red loomed before me: The Circe tent. Below, people were everywhere, filing out of pavilions and lining up for rides and concessions. A new panic overtook me. What if Anya had taken Josephine inside the circus? How was I supposed to go after her?
I sniffed the air, searching frantically for her foul scent. She had to be close. The trail of mist had expanded, billowing high above my head. I worked my new wings harder, ascending rapidly to meet it. But Josephine and her gray kidnapper were nowhere to be found.
Something bowled into me, and I pitched forward, tumbling through the air. Two masses were on me at once. I lashed out with my claws but grasped nothing but smoke. Matthias materialized with a loud hiss, wings convulsing violently. An arrow had sliced cleanly through his shoulder. Its tip gleamed like diamonds. Cloaked men burst through the trees as Quentin notched another arrow and took aim.
Matthias gripped my arm. ‘Stop trying to protect these Gypsies. They’re our enemies!’
I shoved his hand away, wrestling to stay airborne. ‘Where’s Josephine?’
Another arrow flew into the expanse of mist around me. Anya’s body fluttered into view. She roared in fury, and ripped the arrow from her leg. A scream pierced the air; one I knew too well. Josephine shot out of the plume of smoke, and Anya’s grasp, plunging towards the ground.
‘Josephine!’
I pinned my wings against my back and dropped out of the sky like a hawk diving for prey. But, oh God, I wasn’t going to be fast enough! She stared helplessly up at me as she fell. I stretched my arms. Josephine’s screams rang in my ears. And then, I caught her. I pulled her into my chest as I rocketed to the ground.
I couldn’t stop. Nothing obeyed, and my wings were useless. I roared in agony. Josephine wasn’t going to die this way. Not this way! In a last ditch effort, I rolled my body over, trying to spread my wings. They fluttered like a failed parachute. Then we collided with the ground.
The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. I stared at the sky, trying to focus, trying to move. Everything was coated in a haze of red. But I could hear Josephine’s heartbeat against my chest, and I nearly cried in relief.
She was alive.
24. Alive or Dead
Josephine rolled frantically off my chest and cringed in the dirt like a frightened animal, eyes wild, and choking back a sob, her hand pressed to her mouth. I blinked hard to keep her in focus.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked, hearing the slur of my own words.
Josephine’s hand dropped, and she looked at me, dazed. I wondered if she was in shock. She nodded stiffly.
‘Hunt them down!’ I heard Quentin shout. ‘The demons are heading south!’
A group of Marksmen stormed past us towards the woods, arrows aimed at the sky. I could hear the screeching laughter of the creatures in the distance, along with the shouts of Quentin’s men in pursuit. Then, oddly enough, the sound of motorcycle engines approaching.
Several Marksmen ran towards me as well, their weapons drawn. I’d saved Josephine from the fall, but I wasn’t going to be able to save myself from the Gypsies. I shut my eyes, bracing myself for an arrow to the chest, when someone yelled above the commotion.
‘Call them off!’
There was Hugo, straddled on his motorcycle, the other guys just behind him. He launched off his bike and marched across the clearing, his gaze fixed on Quentin. I’d never seen my brother look so furious. He jabbed his finger at the approaching men.
‘I said call them off!’
Quentin held up his hand. The Marksmen immediately halted, but their bows remained taut. I could hear the hum of the strings in my ears. I squinted painfully. My head pounded, and I lay back, suddenly too exhausted to move.
A shadow fell across my face.
‘Sebastian…oh, man…’ Vincent knelt over me, his expression wary. He seemed hesitant to touch me.
‘How is he?’ asked Hugo.
I groaned and growled, all at once. ‘I’m okay.’
Vincent jerked back, as though he was surprised to hear me speak. My brother appeared over his shoulder. His brows knotted harshly over his eyes. ‘We’ve got to get him out of here,’ he said. ‘The Circe’s letting out. Someone might see him.’
Quentin came into my line of vision. ‘I don’t think so, Corsi,’ he said darkly. ‘The gargoyle is ours to kill. He endangered a member of my clan.’
Hugo looked from me to Quentin. ‘You’ve got bigger problems than this gargoyle fledgling.’
The Marksmen leader strolled with measured calm to Josephine, who was still cringing nearby. He helped her to her feet, and Josephine wrapped an arm shakily around his waist for support. Her normally bright eyes were glazed and dull. My protective instincts strained against my exhaustion, and I could feel muscles tightening under my skin, urging me to move.
‘My men will take them down,’ said Quentin. ‘It’s only a matter of time.’
‘Are you sure of that, Marks?’ asked Hugo in a tone like a knife’s edge. ‘When I arrived, it looked like your men had their hands full. If I were you, I’d get the girl home and go check on your boys. You wouldn’t wan
t your inadequacies getting back to the Romany family, now would you?’
Quentin’s lips went white with anger, but he kept his expression carefully controlled. ‘Watch yourself, Corsi.’
‘And I thought Augustine was your responsibility. Obviously you aren’t doing such a great job with that, either.’
‘We’ll deal with that banished traitor soon enough,’ Quentin snapped. ‘After we’ve killed off his pets.’
‘Yeah, you’d better,’ said Hugo, returning to his motorcycle. ‘Or I’m going to take this up with people who can. The Romanys may be using Sixes as a Haven, but you aren’t in charge here. This is our town.’
‘Keep out of our business, Corsi.’
‘And you keep out of ours,’ Hugo replied. ‘Now, we’re taking what’s ours and leaving.’
I bolted upright in blind panic. Vincent ducked as my wings nearly took him out. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I hissed.
My brother’s eyes flicked to Vincent, and my brain screamed a warning. I’d seen that look before. I clambered to my feet, but before I could get my balance, I felt a sharp prick against my neck. I gasped as a cold burn flooded my veins. Vincent pulled back, the now all too familiar syringe in his hand.
‘Why…’
My tongue was too thick for words, and I stumbled as my vision blurred. I tried to move, but it was like running underwater. I felt myself falling, but I couldn’t stop the motion, and I hit the ground with a thud, my wings collapsing around me. Hugo was speaking, but it was garbled in my ears. My body felt like stone.
There were arms under me, lifting me up, carrying me. I was laid on a hard, grooved surface. I could smell gasoline and metal. Something was spread over me. A blanket? An engine roared to life, and I realized I was in the back of a truck. It jarred forward and bounced down the gravel road.
I was frozen in some drug-induced paralysis. Images flashed through my head: The mine shaft, the dandelions touching, the gargoyles on the bridge. And then – the most vivid of all – the look in Josephine’s eyes when she saw me…
Grey (The Romany Outcasts Series, Book 1) Page 25