Rylee felt her lips trembling, the rise of a smile, that felt silly to her, coming to her face. She wanted to hide it, didn’t want him to know how much she feared what he had seen in her. They looked at one another for a while before the sappiness of the moment made it become unbearably awkward.
They both noticed when the target moved in their perceptions, both happy for a reason to snap out of it.
Rylee turned to face the skyline again, not wanting him to see a tear escaping. “Good talk, Tibbs,” she said. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
Jonathan glared at her, but grinned as he came to stand alongside her. “Heading up, then, Slug?” he asked.
Rylee, unwilling to acknowledge the nickname, jumped, elegantly bounding back and forth from one wall of the alley to other until she landed on the roof. She knelt low against the wall, Jonathan landing shortly after.
He crouched beside her, his eyes scanning the city ahead of them. “No going on the offensive this time, not ’til we see what we are dealing with. We get close, we keep low and quiet,” he said. “We do this careful, agreed?”
She let out an exaggerated sigh before responding. “Careful,” she said playfully. “Tell me, Tibbs, do you need to borrow my bra? Sounds like—”
“Rylee,” Jonathan interrupted in his no-nonsense tone.
“Fine, I’ll follow your lead. But I’m not doing it because Mr. Fedora says I have to.”
He looked at her curiously. “Oh? Why, then?”
“Well,” Rylee said, “there is this rumor going around that, allegedly, I blew myself up last time.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
STAYING OUT OF the open as best they could, they drew closer to the lone signal. Finally, landing on the tallest rooftop in sight of the enemy, Jonathan knelt behind the roof’s lip, scanning out in front of them while Rylee put her back to it to keep an eye on what was behind them.
“I’ve been here,” Jonathan said. “Recently.”
“That mean something?”
“We’re getting close to where Heyer brought me the other night. Doubt it’s a coincidence.” He shook his head, troubled as he tried to think it through, but he didn’t know what to make of it.
“The signal we’re getting,” she said. “It should be on the building below us.”
He looked to her, nodded, and slowly raised himself up to peer over the roof’s edge. Rylee saw his expression go blank as his eyes locked on to something below.
Growing curious, she peered over as well. A man stood below, and as she studied his face, she was sure she recognized it. “That man, Jonathan,” she said. “He’s the one who entered the gates the night we met.”
“You’re sure?” Jonathan asked.
“Yeah. He’s shaved, but that is definitely him.”
Jonathan closed his eyes, nodding a moment later. “I know him.”
Rylee frowned. “How?” she asked.
“His name is Grant Morgan. He was with The Cell. It’s a long story, but I haven’t seen him since he confessed who he was working with.”
Rylee pondered this for a moment. “He must have still been following you,” she said. “Why would he enter the gates, though?”
“No idea.” Jonathan shook his head. “This is probably a trap, but I have to find out what’s going on. I’m going down there. Whatever happens, stay down, and don’t let him know you’re here unless it absolutely can’t be avoided.”
He leaned back from the wall and reached behind his back to remove Excali-bar. Rylee reached, too, grabbing him by the chain wrapped around his torso to stop him from leaving.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
He looked at her grimly, and let out a breath. “I’m going to talk to him. I need to find out what he’s done.”
He was about to stand, to jump over the roof and drop down to where the man waited below, but Rylee held tight to the chain, pulling him to her before he might think to stop her. She closed her eyes and kissed him, feeling the static charge run between them. Jonathan didn’t fight, but didn’t embrace her either. Gently, his gloved hand came to her cheek, pushing their lips apart.
His eyes were confused. He looked away, still holding her cheek with his hand. When he looked up again, a faint smile broke on his lips. “When this is over, you aren’t going to tell me you did that, are you?”
“Let’s say it was for luck, Tibbs.”
Grant amused himself, pulling one brick after another free from the roof of Heyer’s vessel. The world seemed so fragile, as though made from a gingerbread house and held together by frosting. He crushed the stone in his hand, then smiled down as the larger fragments at his feet lost their shape and were absorbed into the rooftop.
There was a thud behind him, the telling sound of a body landing on the roof. Grant smiled and freed another brick before turning around to face Jonathan.
He found himself shaking his head. Jonathan seemed afraid of holding his gaze. Instead of looking him in the eye, he scanned everything around him as he drew nearer. He carried his weapons; a long demolition bar at the ready in his hand, and chains wrapped around his leathers. All of it was black—it was as though the man knew exactly what he was and made no effort to hide it. When Jonathan was a few paces away, he slowed, studying the bright white glow emanating from Grant’s chest as he came to a stop. The man’s brow furrowed as he finally met Grant’s gaze. There was worry there, fear, like a vampire seeing the sun rise.
Grant gave him a half-grin as he crushed the last brick in his hand, letting the debris fall to his feet.
I’m not the one who looks worried, am I Tibbs?
There was a moment of silence as Grant waited, but before Jonathan spoke, his expression seemed to became unreadable as though hidden by a wall.
“How?” Jonathan asked.
Grant grinned, wiping the brick dust off his hands. “It’s a long story, Tibbs. Frankly, I don’t know that you’ll live long enough to hear it.”
He watched Jonathan tense, his eyes narrowing as his grip tightened on the staff. “Grant?” he asked. “What have you done?”
Grant raised an eyebrow just as the telling thunder of the Alpha Ferox’s heavy frame landed on the roof behind Jonathan. Alarm turned to action on instinct, and Jonathan dropped into a balanced stance and pivoted, bringing the demolition bar toward the danger behind him.
The weapon came to a stop with a thunderous clap that knocked Jonathan off balance. Grant watched as Jonathan stood beneath Malkier’s massive shadow, eyes roving up the beast’s torso and stopping to linger on its scarred face. He waited for the invigorating moment when the wall Jonathan erected to hide his thoughts would begin to shake and crumble.
When the Alpha Ferox spoke, the words seemed to shock Jonathan, as though he didn’t expect the creature could speak.
“There will be no more echoes,” Malkier said.
There was a stillness that followed the alien’s words, enough time for Jonathan to voice a single: “Rylee…Run—!”
With alarming speed and strength, Malkier pulled the demolition bar toward him and stepped forward, striking into Jonathan’s chest. The result was devastating. Grant felt the percussion against his eardrums before the space Jonathan had occupied became empty. A series of crashes followed before Grant turned to see that part of the roof’s retaining wall had been demolished. The building across the street had a hole in it where Jonathan’s body had shot through.
The sounds of brick hitting concrete below finally reached them. It was followed by screams, tires screeching, and collisions on the street below. Grant slowly turned back to face Malkier, his face somewhere between awe and horror. The alien held Jonathan’s weapon, looking down at it with disgust in his white slits.
“This,” Malkier said. “This was what he drove through my son when he ripped out his insides.”
He dropped the demolition bar at Grant’s feet. Unsure, Grant reached down slowly to pick it up.
“The inscription in the center,�
�� Malkier said. “What does it mean?”
Feeling the urgency in Malkier’s request, Grant turned the weapon over, studying the engraving of Excali-bar in the steel. His face drew wary. His mouth opened, but self-preservation halted him. He didn’t want to explain to the most powerful being he’d ever encounter that the weapon that took his son’s life was named with a pun. A really bad pun.
“Human,” Malkier said. “I have no patience for you stammering.”
“I’m sorry,” Grant said. “It’s a play on words—it’s named after a sword, Excalibur. He’s made a joke out of it. Changed the spelling….”
He trailed off to look at the floor as the Alpha Ferox’s rage made his body shake. Yet, when Malkier spoke, his instructions were a relative whisper to his normal tone.
“If he still lives,” he said. “Run this joke through his heart. He deserves the same dignity he gave my son.”
Grant nodded.
“The female approached with him,” Malkier continued. “I will see that she is removed. Do not return to me without his corpse.”
Malkier bounded to a roof top above them without another word. Grant turned his attention to the hole that had swallowed Jonathan and grinned.
Finally, off my leash….
The horror of what she’d just seen seemed to hold Rylee in place. She didn’t feel she could move until the massive beast came barreling toward her from the building below and Jonathan’s desperate scream registered in her mind.
Rylee, run!
She leapt backwards from the wall, retreating as the monster landed, the weight of the thing shaking the entire rooftop. She’d never seen one, but knew immediately what she was looking at.
Alpha.
There was no other explanation for the creature in front of her—if this thing was a Ferox, it was the damn Schwarzenegger of Feroxes. It shouldn’t have been possible—should not be here. Jonathan had told her the rules he knew, and this broke the terms of the alien’s agreement. The Ferox, they had always been terribly powerful, but what she’d just seen happen to Jonathan…
Was there any hope he could have survived that blow? She’d felt the impact, heard it like thunder. Her worried thoughts halted as she saw that the awful beast was studying her. It rose to its full height, straightening its back to stand like a man.
“So, this is the mated pair…” The Alpha paused. “For a few moments longer, at least.”
Rylee flinched, not able to hide the disturbing chill that passed through her when the Alpha threatened her in English. Where would it learn a human language? And why couldn’t she feel this thing in her mind? Rylee and Jonathan had both been able to feel the presence of the man, but she still couldn’t sense this thing standing right in front of her. The Alpha had known—expected her and Jonathan to trust the instincts of their devices and knew that they wouldn’t feel it coming when it attacked.
“You’re no Ferox.” Rylee’s voice was far less steady than she would have hoped. “What are you?”
The Alpha tilted its head briefly before taking a step, but not toward her—it began to pace thoughtfully in a circle around her. “I think you know, human,” it said. “In fact, I think you know far more than you should. My brother has overstepped his bounds with his… favorites.”
Rylee swallowed. “Malkier.”
The Alpha nodded. “Your candidness is wise, human,” he said. “I cannot reward it with your life, but it will earn you a swift death.”
Threatened again, Rylee clenched her jaw in an effort to keep fear off her face—but she could see that if she didn’t move, the distance between her and Malkier would shrink, so she stepped in to circle with him.
“You’re wrong, about your brother,” she said. “I am no favorite of his.”
Malkier groaned as he paced, a moment passing before he spoke. “I wonder, did my brother say this to you, or have you assumed?”
Her eyes narrowed at the question, and the monster seemed to grin knowingly when the question gave her pause.
“Curious,” Malkier said. “You have my name—what should I call you?”
“Your people call me….” Rylee paused, found that despite her fear, she still had enough room to feel annoyed when she spat out the word: “Slug….”
If Malkier picked up on the tone she’d used, it didn’t show when he responded. “Well, Slug, I have to wonder… that implant—do you know that it doesn’t wish to be inside you?” he asked. “I’ve yet to see so pathetic a compatibility. It hardly seems able to function in you.”
“Well, crap,” Rylee said. “I’d be offended, but the feeling is mutual.”
He seemed fascinated by her claim. “Interesting—you do not wish to be a part of humanity’s last stand? Your node has been active longer than most.”
“Is that supposed to be a question?” Rylee asked. “Because if you are trying to make a point, I missed it.”
Malkier continued to pace. “Heyer is now my prisoner, and he will remain as such until I know what to do about his treason. Whatever role he intended to play, he is no longer able to assist Mankind.”
The moment Malkier had shared his identity, Rylee had, unconsciously, been hoping for Heyer to intervene. Not for her, never for her—but because she figured he wouldn’t abandon Jonathan. Knowing that the alien was unable to help them, Rylee felt an icy despair pierce her. They were truly alone.
That despair lasted no more than a moment before she consumed it with anger. Fire melted it off her, ignited from the unlikeliest of fuels. Jonathan, he was still alive—she knew it. He had to live through this—nothing else could explain what he’d said to her. That could only mean that she was right. She’d never allowed herself to depend on the alien to save her from a damn thing. Why the hell would she start now?
“Do you want me to congratulate you?” Rylee asked.
Malkier slowed his pace, a new intensity in his eyes before he spoke. “My brother, he was afraid for me,” he said, a nonchalance in his voice that Rylee wasn’t buying. “Seemed truly convinced that your friend posed a threat to me.”
Rylee glared at him, unconvinced. “If that was true, why would he tell you?”
“That is not for you Slug to know, I’m afraid,” Malkier said. “But, despite my brother’s misplaced loyalty to your species, he is not a fool. Rather, he is careful, precise … calculating. So you see, , you are a bit of an enigma.”
Rylee exhaled—loudly. “I don’t know what you find so fascinating,” she said. “So spell it out, before I get it in my head that you’re stalling.”
Malkier stopped pacing, and Rylee halted, preparing herself for anything.
“If my brother believed the bonded pair a weapon against me,” Malkier said, “why did he implant the female half into a human virtually incapable of utilizing its potential? Why force it on a girl who doesn’t want it?”
Hearing the question, Rylee worried she knew the answer. Malkier, he was stalling. He was looking for some tactic hidden beneath the surface of her implantation, trying to find genius when there had only ever been desperation. Rylee understood Heyer’s choice then. She was it, there simply hadn’t been anyone else—but there still had to be someone.
She took in a long breath. There was no reason to relieve Malkier of his reservations. Nothing to be gained telling him he was looking for something where there was nothing to find. “Guess that is not for you to know,” Rylee echoed.
The alien stared back at her, and then closed his eyes for a moment before he spoke. “So much for your swift death, Slug,” he murmured. “Any last words for my brother? I’ll be sure he hears them when I bring him your corpse.”
Rylee shook her head. “Do you know what a d-bag is, Malkier?” she asked.
Malkier’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t answer, but she doubted human slang was in his vocabulary.
“No? Well, doesn’t matter. Just tell Heyer that….” Rylee paused before committing. “If he had only told me the truth—told me how much of a d-bag his brother was—thi
ngs could have gone another way.”
Jonathan’s hand emerged from a pile of rubble and found the floor intact. The reinforced cement wall had finally managed to stop him, but most of what endured the collision had crumbled down on top of him when he hit the floor. He felt the weight of the debris rolling off him as he got to his hands and knees.
He staggered to his feet, into a thinning cloud of dust from the collapsed wall—dust that seemed to cover him like ash. He could hear wind and rain outside mixing with the familiar sound of damaged, arcing electrical wires as the lights above him flickered. Soon, these noises became background to the chaos of shocked pedestrians screaming in fear as they ran to get clear of the falling rubble on the streets below. He found his balance was off-kilter, his body not yet ready to support him. He leaned against the nearest wall to steady himself and attempted to clear his head.
A broken chunk of ceiling gave way and fell to the floor before him. He looked out in front of him then, and saw the trail of destruction he had made. There was a gaping hole across the street, where he’d punched through brick and drywall before crashing through the window of this office building.
He shouldn’t be breathing and he knew it.
The device had never seen him though anything of this magnitude—he’d never dreamed he could walk away from such abuse. The chain and armor around his torso had helped, but he knew that wasn’t the half of it. Dumb luck had saved him. Right before that massive beast had slammed into him, he’d had one primal realization: Rylee’s life was in danger.
He should have been a pile of broken bones under the rubble he’d just crawled out of, but strength had surged into him, erupting out of that visceral fear. Their bond was the only reason he stood. Yet, he didn’t know how to hold onto that strength; it seemed to diminish, fade away as he understood the source of it. It was as though his thinking mind was now a wall between him and the very strength that had allowed him to survive.
Thinking of it now, fear spiked in him. He felt his senses coming back into sharper focus. She was alone and that Alpha Ferox from his nightmares was out there. It had spoken to him, not through the translation of the device, but in the same monstrous dialect of English as it had in his dream. How could he have known the Alpha was capable of that?
The Never Paradox (Chronicles Of Jonathan Tibbs Book 2) Page 51