by Anna Sanders
He let his mind transport him to a different time, a sweeter time. One in which his pack was hale and Sabrina was his lover. A smile tickled the corners of his lips and he remembered his usual mode of preparing to go see her.
It wasn't as if they ever had a lot of time, since they were both loyal to completely different alphas. Never mind that mixing company wasn’t common. Ottanu, his alpha, had almost lost her territory to Sabrina's pack master before she’d turned the tables. There had been no lack of ill feeling toward the two alphas since then. And those who knew about Keaton's affair would remind him of that fact.
Whenever Cohen Silver would see his son awash in the glow of impending sex, for instance, he made it a point to try and dissuade him every time.
“There are other girls out there,” he said once, getting in Keaton’s way as he moved around their dwelling.
Keaton would not slow in his preparation to leave, evading Cohen’s moves. “Of course there are, father.”
“Your soul is that of fire, you attach yourself too much.”
“I am far from troubled by it.”
The words of caution were rich coming from Keaton’s father. The two men were alike in many ways: in height, manner, appearance, even humor. But their lives had taken very different paths. Cohen had fallen in love with Keaton's mother, Ayelen, at a very young age. Their connection to one another had steered the older Silver for his entire life. But Keaton had not been so lucky. He hadn’t allowed the knowledge to bring him low, but he’d recognized the pangs of loneliness all too easily in contrast to his parents’ love. And he had craved a ready escape from it.
“If you misstep, we might know a further rift between our two clans,” Cohen had said as Keaton had moved outside.
Making it to town had been but the work of a sprint. Keaton could usually pass as just a strange runner, not really needing his true burst of speed within the town’s limits. He'd wend his way around, perfectly comfortable ignoring any stares he got, until he'd reached the decided-upon checkpoint. Since Keaton and Sabrina were of the woods, it usually wasn’t anything too fancy.
Their lovemaking was rough and uncontrolled at first. Thus was the excitement of a tryst. He'd put his fingers throughout the strands of her dark hair and pull her head back for the stolen brutality of his kiss. Her knees would weaken. And only after they'd sate themselves multiple times in a row would they slow and delve into a slower exploration.
“What are you thinking about?”
There was Sabrina’s bemused grin that enhanced his already-peaked interest. Keaton could feel his cheeks redden, much to his upset.
“Nothing. Really.”
“Yeah?” She didn't sound convinced. Her eyes flickered down to his crotch, making him wonder if she saw the evidence of his wayward thoughts there.
Keaton smiled at her. “Well. Maybe not nothing.”
“It’s okay. I've missed you too.” Sabrina didn’t seem to notice the way Keaton stared at her mouth. “I’ve wanted to call, I just…haven’t had any time to myself lately. Once everything began to fall apart, I had to figure out a way to survive.”
“You don't have to explain anything,” he said.
“But I feel like I should.” The impact of her gaze brought back the memory of their passion. What a beauty she was. “Keaton. You're the closest thing I've had to reliability in years. And I yearn for that even more now, in the aftermath of my misfortunes.”
Should he tell her the same? Keaton looked away, for the first time wary of her openness. Now was not the time to entangle himself further in his odd web of a love life. He craved their amiable silence once more and did his best to put himself back there.
But as they entered town, the stench of the dead permeated the air. Keaton felt his nerves come alive. He swiveled to look at Sabrina. She had the same cold look on her face.
“Step on it,” Keaton commanded.
Keaton ran out of the car before the wheels had come to a full stop. He rushed through the front door of the B&B and immediately stepped in the remains of someone who had died. Worse—someone who had been eaten. The body was unrecognizable.
He barely paused to look before hurrying over the glass-covered carpet to the stairs. As he climbed, he listened carefully for sound. Nothing.
Whatever battle had happened here was over.
Keaton’s room was empty, and so was Genevieve’s. But as he continued through the halls, his pulse rose in proportion to the amount of bodies he saw. Lots of dead savages.
Sabrina was suddenly behind him. “Anyone alive?”
“If they are, I don’t think they’re here,” Keaton answered hollowly.
The staircase led them to a dead end0 covered with defeated enemies. Keaton found himself chuckling. “I think… she won.”
“Who won?” Sabrina demanded.
Keaton stepped over the savages, which had been killed by head wounds. Some of them were completely decapitated. Yeah, it had to be Winx. She knew to go straight for the head.
He approached the open attic.
“Winx?” he called. “If you’re up there, please come down.”
No answer. He walked up the necessary rungs to stick his head over the opening.
“Is anyone there?” Sabrina asked.
“No. It’s empty.” His heart sank. “She isn’t here. None of them are.”
Retreating backwards brought him back to the floor. He stood there with his head hanging. “They might have left me.”
“Good,” Sabrina said. “You can come back and live with us! Obviously, you aren’t safe with them.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked back down the stairs and went to London and Roy’s room. It was locked. His own room had been barely untouched, so that left one option.
Returning to Genevieve’s room, Keaton turned on the overhead lights. A chair was overturned, but otherwise nothing looked out of the ordinary—except for a note sitting on a table of unfinished food.
Keaton and Winx: Under the command of the High Chancellor of the Order, Roy and I are returning Genevieve to a secure location to preserve the future of the Lixyn Queendom. You are to continue on your way to Washington and meet at the already discussed designation point. We will meet you there for further specifics. Iragall.
Well. That explained where the lixyns were.
Keaton examined the note. It was untouched, no creases or fingerprints. If he wasn’t mistaken, he was the first one to read this. Which meant…
With a surge of energy, he headed back, heedless of Sabrina asking question after question behind him. He burst into his room and turned on the light. His first cursory glance hadn’t revealed to him what was now apparent: Winx’s things weren’t there.
Winx had fought the horde alone. And now she was gone.
CHAPTER 5
When Winx reached the dark emptiness of the city limits without catching up to the lixyn, she finally decided to cut her engine. She couldn’t keep chasing him without wings.
But where to go next? Winx didn’t feel safe anywhere. Not at the B&B or any other hotel. Not at Keaton’s previous stomping grounds. Not even in her car.
She was absolutely, in every sense of the word, alone.
Winx leaned her head against the steering wheel. When had everything become focused on Keaton and Genevieve and other people? She had her own problems. Being homeless, for one. Or being without family. Her own relatives, so far away, were probably not even sure if she was alive.
Deja, so full of potential and life, killed for… for what? How did she end up in such a shitstorm?
It had never been like this before. The daevor settlements were far from the complications of the Queendom. And if any savages veered too close, it wasn’t but the work of a moment to kill them. Peace was theirs back at home.
But that home had died with Deja.
Thinking of her sister brought her back to Deja’s killers. Was it this lixyn who had killed Deja? He’d definitely tried to kill Winx tonight, and he’d i
mplied Deja had gotten what she’d deserved.
Winx pondered hard. Someone had made that gang do their dirty work. A lixyn could find someone who could bend the human’s will and have Deja killed. And since daevors can’t control a human who is already spellbound, her sister hadn’t been able to save her own skin.
Jesus, why had Winx just discovered she couldn’t use her compulsion? That should have come up when she was being trained for battle. Not being able to use a core power of hers was a situation she’d never been prepared for. It had never even occurred to her, and that was a serious problem.
What if…what if she hadn’t been taught on purpose? What if her trainers had wanted her to fail?
Winx lifted her heavy head reluctantly. She rubbed her still bleary eyes and looked out of the windshield…to see the lixyn standing about fifteen feet from her car.
Their eyes met. His gaze went cocky as hers lit alive.
Not wasting another minute, Winx bounded from the car. The lixyn was on foot. She had a chance to catch him.
Winx’s feet stormed the street as she gave it her all. It should have been enough, but the lixyn stayed ahead of her, the dark night enveloping him until he became a distant speck. He turned into a bend, and as she lost sight of him, she stopped running. He had led her too far from her car. The empty feeling in her hand was a stinging reminder that she had no weapon. Damn, what had she been thinking?
Winx noticed something ahead on the other side of the road. She hesitantly moved toward it, keeping herself prime for any sort of interruption. She’d barely gotten closer when she saw that there were dark stains on the street. Blood. A good amount of it, coating the asphalt. A chill passed throughout her as she heard the sticky suction of her shoes stepping through it. The blood trail was leading away from a truck. It was bent and twisted, embedded into a tree. But no bodies, only the blood.
She’d explored long enough. Better get back to the car.
There was very little lamplight on the roadside, but Winx knew which direction she had come. Maybe if she got behind the wheel, and if the lixyn was still on foot, she could catch up. Then she’d get her answers, however she needed to.
Suddenly, the sound of hard, running footsteps approached through the brush, the woods giving away every sound of their arrival.
“Who’s there?” she shouted. She was walking backwards from the car and trees, looking around on all sides. The echoes of thudding feet was loud around her, but she saw nothing.
A sudden blur parted the trees, and a streak headed right for her. Winx covered her head in anticipation of collision, but when nothing did, she peeked from her arms.
Keaton was out of breath and two inches from her. He looked perfect, in the sense that he was completely unharmed and very alive.
“Thank the spirits you are okay.” He sounded genuinely comforted.
Winx was torn between throwing herself into his arms or punching him square in the chest. “You were gone–“
Keaton grabbed her upper arms in urgency. “I am so, so sorry about that.”
“I could have died. Nobody was there!”
“I know! I was just back there, and I saw everything. The lixyns took Genevieve to some holding in order to preserve their line. And I…I have no excuse. I just wandered off for a while when you were asleep, and I didn’t return until it was too late. But I never intended to leave you like that!”
He fell silent, and Winx didn’t rush to fill the quiet. They stared each other down, Keaton’s regretful gaze not withering under Winx’s indignant eyes.
“Okay,” Winx eventually said, confrontation leaking out of her. At least she wasn’t alone anymore. She still wanted to have the satisfaction of making him feel like an asshole, and she wanted an explanation, but for now, she could rest easy with an ally at her back.
Keaton drew her close for a tender embrace. It was quick, and he was sweaty from running, but it assuaged Winx’s urge to jump into the bandit’s arms.
“What are you doing out here?” Keaton asked.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
“You’re still covered in blood.”
“The escape route didn’t include a shower.” She glared. “How do you know about the lixyns?”
“They left a very convenient note. They expect us to keep going to Washington.”
“Fuck them.”
“I was sure you would feel that way about it.”
Winx looked over his shoulder and spotted a green-eyed girl. She stood near the wrecked car with an inscrutable expression on her face. “Who is that?”
Keaton didn’t answer; instead, he turned Winx around. At least ten savages staggered their way toward them.
Her shoulders sank. “Not again.”
“Where’s your weapon?”
She pointed backwards. “In my car.”
He blazed away from her in an instant.
Winx took a step away from the savages. They were sluggish, but still closing in.The fear and desperation at the B&B was replaced by something colder, more bitter. The severity of it wasn’t alien to her.
Obviously. her lixyn quarry wasn’t done throwing his hand at her.
The stranger girl stepped beside Winx. “I can help.”
“It’s not like you have a choice,” Winx retorted.
The first of the group to broke formation, its disgusting arms reaching out as its teeth snapped together in clicks of slobbery hunger. Winx caught its arm and twisted until the appendage cracked in its socket. Using its arm to guide it, she slammed it to the ground and stomped the side of its neck repeatedly. She only stopped after the savage’s head fell sideways and it stopped moving entirely.
The other savages were playing a game of cat and mouse with Keaton’s newcomer, who was a bandit as well, it turned out. Her eyes glowed red even in the dim moonlight, and her fangs went long and lethal as she ran and swiped with her clawed hands. She aimed for legs and chests, or necks and faces, but she did no real damage to them, which allowed the savages to close in and block off the bandit’s running room.
“What are you doing?” Winx stomped over and grabbed her second kill. “Don’t you know you have to deliver a head injury? That’s the only way to stop them!” She snapped the wild savage’s neck in emphasis, and then she let it drop to the ground.
Seeing an opening, the bandit ran from the middle of the hoard and circled them again. She continued with her tactics, which directed the fiend’s attention to her instead of Winx.
“That’s not going to kill them!” Winx said. She started to put herself back into the fray, but before she could, another blur appeared.
Keaton pressed her heavy shears into her hands before tackling the nearest savage. “Nice choice. Much better than the shovel.” Now that she had a weapon, Winx tugged a savage away from the bandits and shoved the blade into the base of its skull. It twitched in her arms and fell dead a few seconds later.
Keaton was doing a number on the savage he’d nabbed with his superior strength and animal tactics. But another savage came up behind him and bit into the tissue of his upper shoulder before he could make the kill. He growled in pain and attempted to shake it off.
Winx was on it, cutting into the savage’s neck in a swift, brutal move. Keaton dug a claw into the groove at the fiend’s temple, and the body beneath him jolted as the nerves deadened.
At the same time, five savages tugged at the female bandit as if to pull her apart from limb to limb. Keaton blazed a trail through them and snatched her free. As he did, Winx put herself in the middle of the group and gave them all a severe lash with her shears. Each lost their balance but not their resolve.
A savage threw its entire body at Winx as she positioned the tool over its neck. They tumbled down, Winx beneath. She struggled as it pulled at her skin with its bare hands. But Winx was already pressing the blades over its head. Blood squirted as its head exploded; most of it landed all over the daevor’s face.
“Ughh!” she gagged.
&
nbsp; Winx rolled the body off of her and spit repeatedly onto the ground. The overpowering sludge coated her senses. Nausea swarmed her, but she stood to confront another savage who was making a quick advance. She wiped her eyes with her upper arm and swung the tool, catching the fiend in an uppercut. When it landed on the ground, she stuck the shears straight through its brain.
She looked up. Keaton had already killed the other three, though not without a lot of damage. His shoulder looked gross, and he had new scratches on his face and exposed chest.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
Winx nodded and bent at the waist to spit the taste from her mouth again. That had not been pleasant.
Keaton walked over to his green-eyed companion. He grimaced. “And you. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Thank you.” She looked at him as if he were her savior. Then she hugged him.
Winx wiped her face with the underside of her shirt, which didn’t do much, and turned away. Here she was, covered in guts, and Keaton was having a moment with some chick.
“Winx? This is Sabrina,” Keaton called over to her. “She’s an old friend.”
Winx still didn’t look at him. She nodded and waved a dirty hand through the air. “Yo.”
“You’re covered in blood,” Sabrina said. “Did they hurt you badly?”
“I’m fine. Just a few scratches. Nothing that won’t heal.” When the never-ending embrace continued, Winx asked, “Should we get these bodies?”
“Do you have your vial?” Keaton asked.
“It’s in the car. Don’t worry, I’ll get it.” Her snide remark didn’t stop the girl from touching Keaton, and maybe she shouldn’t have expected it to. Winx padded away with her chin high. If hanging around them meant being a witness to constant petting, she’d probably have to cut herself.