by Skyler Andra
“Your limbs will reform in a few hours,” she said. “Then we can go and find the mothman’s family.”
“We don’t know where the hell they’re being kept.” Knoxe angrily waved his stump arms.
Pascal turned around, his gaze finding me. “Raze is a tracker for his tribe.”
Dammit. Don’t drag me into this.
I didn’t want to go anywhere near the Karvosh’s home world. The vampires were fast and hard to kill. Mortal enemies to my gantii culture. They only traded with the Karvosh out of necessity, but distrusted each other, and only met when tensions soared. Entering their world was dangerous and foolish. One whiff of my scent, and they’d come for me.
“What’s the matter buddy?” Tor nudged me. “Cat got your tongue? Not like you to pass up an opportunity to track.”
The tribal elders, recognizing my otherworldly gifts, had taught me to trace as a young boy. As a result, I was the best damn tracker in the Guardians.
“We could open a hell of a lot more shit if we march in there.” My attempt at a protest failed.
Tor and Astra stared at me, challenging me, daring me to go. But I had to think of my safety.
Astra narrowed her eyes. “You don’t strike me as the kind to be worried about fighting off a few vamps. What’s making you so hesitant all of a sudden?”
Dammit. My protests were only bringing more attention. They mustn’t find out what I really was.
“We need this lead,” she pressed.
No. No. No. This was crazy. I was putting the rest of the team in danger. But if I didn’t go, I’d raise even more suspicions. Questions I’d prefer not to answer.
Astra entered the cell and bent to stroke the shoulder of the cowering mothman. “If we rescue your family, will you help us find Styx and his coven?”
The mothman glanced up at her with squinted dark eyes. I knew that expression. Submission and fear. Animals did the same thing. His gaze flitted to Knoxe. “I agree. But if he lays another fist on me again the deal is off.”
Astra stood up and grabbed the stumps of Knoxe’s arm. “I promise he won’t.” At that, the mothman gave a fleeting, solemn smile.
Munyara. I stared at her. She had a way that earned the trust of sources, a skill we desperately needed on the team if we were ever going to find Styx and avenge Jaz. Maybe that’s why the ancestors had led her here. Our team needed her.
Even Knoxe’s hostile stare softened into something of amazement and respect. Inside, I smiled. She humbled him, and he needed a good deal of humbling. Ever since Jaz died, Knoxe treated us like soldiers to obey his command instead of the friends we once were. Fourteen months later and my compassion was almost bled dry. We all missed Jaz. We all hurt too. We should grieve together, not push each other away. That’s they way my tribe dealt with death.
I clenched my fist and pressed it to my chest. “I’ll do it.”
“Supergirl.” Tor threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. “You’re my new hero.”
Knoxe marched down the row of cells, and a few beasts growled in response. “I’m going to get permission from the warden to travel to the mothman’s home world.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Tor shouted, and Knoxe turned to catch Tor doing jazz hands. “No hands. How are you gonna sign the order?”
“Fuck.” Knoxe lifted the stumps of his arms. To Astra, he said, “How long does this take to regenerate?”
“Long enough for you to cool off.” She mumbled under her breath, but I caught it. I caught lots of things with my heightened senses. It was what made me such a great tracker.
I glared at her. She needed to learn respect for our leader. Where I came from, we didn’t speak back to our elders, chief, parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, medicine man or woman, and certainly not to the bone witch… unless we wanted to be cursed.
Speaking of a bone witch… one of my ancestors stepped forward, an old woman, shaking her bone. When alive, she had magical powers to heal and curse. I doubted she’d carried it into the afterlife. But as a spirit, she possessed the gift of prophecy. “Great power dwells in this one. She will help you find the Munyara.”
I didn’t need any help. I was the tracker. On my monthly leave passes, I didn’t take anyone with me on my hunts. Least of all someone who might see my true self, report me to the warden and have me arrested.
The bone witch held up her bone again, a femur—or the long one in the thigh—and shook it at the cells, performing her ritualistic dance. My gut tightened. This meant disaster.
My attention returned to the group.
“Everybody in the training room until this wears off.” Knoxe’s growl stirred the beast inside me, and it rumbled.
I’d meet up with them later. First, I needed something. “I’ll lock up the prisoner.”
Knoxe nodded.
“Here, buddy.” Tor took off his cape and threw it over Knoxe’s shoulders to conceal his stumps.
Once they all left, I entered the cell and pulled out a plastic dosing syringe. The mothman cowered and wrapped his arms around his knees.
“Be still, star man.” I held my hands out. “I just need something from you. Then I’ll be on my way.”
He uttered a protest.
It had gotten harder to cross the borders to visit my father. When I was a member of the Shadows, I used to meet him each month secretly, in a thicket by the river, near a valley. Not even my uncles knew of my existence. I hadn’t met my extended family. They’d kill me if they knew what I was. Half breeds were forbidden.
But that wasn’t the only reason I needed the mothman’s help. I had to track the Munyara, my tribal spirit, into the demon’s dimensions, to find it. To do that, I needed a sample from the mothman.
Members of the guardians needed a magical amulet to cross over the veil. Magic not granted unless we had permission to undertake a mission. This had led me to track down and buy illegal technology to cross the veil. Technology I’d buried outside of the Guardians where no one would find it. Where it couldn’t be stolen by other prisoners or associated with me. All I needed now was a catalyst from the mothman to open a portal.
Behind me, the bone witch sang her ancient songs.
I kneeled before the gantii, grabbing him by the face, and prying his mouth open. But it snapped closed, crunching my hand, and I jerked away.
“Give me a sample of your spit,” I told it through my translation device, “and I’ll leave.”
“Styx also demanded my spit. Took it when I refused. You are no better.” The mothman replied without ever unsnapping his tight jaw.
I lowered my eyes to the floor. This wasn’t who I was groomed to be. But if I wanted to see my father again, it had to be done. It had been almost two years, and this was the way. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to ignore my conscience.
“I will find your family.”
“They will kill you before you get close.”
The mothman knew what I was. Smelled it on me. By entering the land of vampires, I risked my life and that of my team. But each time I went on a mission for the Guardians, I risked my life. The only difference was that I was the vampire’s mortal enemy.
I asked again. “Do I have your permission?”
The mothman bowed its head. “Take it. Then, when you find my family, I will give you as much as you want.”
I bowed back and pressed a fist to my chest. “Thank you, star man.”
The bone witch’s song rose to a feverish pitch. She rattled her bone across the mothman’s cell. Not a good omen.
Slowly, I opened the creature’s mouth, collecting the sample. When I finished, I placed the syringe in a plastic bag and tucked it in my pocket.
“Take care, friend,” said the mothman as I stood to leave. “All of our safety depends on you.”
***
It took over fourteen hours for Knoxe’s hands to reform, delaying our progress significantly. He’d finally called it a night and told us to get up early to train while
he went to see the warden, first thing. So, me and Pascal sparred at the front of the room while Tor and Astra fought at the back.
Pascal thumped me in the chest, and I stumbled backward. This was the only time he’d ever let me get close. I blocked another blow and got him in the stomach. We kept going, grunting, swiping, kicking, punching, while we waited for him to return from the warden’s office with permission to cross into the vampire’s world.
Behind us, Astra beat Tor back, knocking away his fist and swiping his leg out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor.
I smiled. Every day she got better. She and Tor had practiced every spare moment they got, him coaching her in technique, and applying it with him. In a few months, she’d be at our level.
The electrical door beeped, and the pneumatic hinges hissed as the pressure released when they swung open. Knoxe walked in.
“Gear up.” He waved the stamped approval in the air. “Vartros gave us the go ahead.”
“Fuckin’ A.” Tor threw a fist into the air.
We were half ready, packing our weapon belts, stuffing more in backpacks when a loud and urgent alarm went off. The noise hurt my ears especially because I also detected the zing of electricity charge the walls. Hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as the current filled the air.
Oh, Munyara, no.
I spun to see my tribal ancestors standing by the door.
The walls released the charge, paralyzing the team and I, the magnets sucking our bracelets, and us with it, to the wall. I dropped the weapon’s bag. Damn, this hurt like hell, felt like every nerve and muscle was on fire. I felt it more intensely than the others because I wasn’t entirely of this world, and my body responded differently to the magic. I bit back a growl.
“Just what we needed.” Knoxe growled for me.
Someone inside the prison had broken the rules, activated the alarms, and now we were all incapacitated until the sentries dealt with it.
Despite the ache in my head, caused by the electrical current, I heard distant shouts moments before my bare feet felt the vibration of thudding boots outside in the corridor. Damn. The guards were coming. I wondered who they were after.
The door whooshed open and sentries burst into the room, holding electrified batons.
Vartros stormed in after them.
My three ancestors commenced a ceremonial dance, waving, shouting, stomping, their song warning of disaster.
Concrete settled in my stomach. My head pounded. If they didn’t stop it soon, I was going to scream. My mind flung back to yesterday in the mothman’s cell when the bone witch rattled her bone. Something bad had happened. I just knew it.
“What the fuck?” Knoxe shouted.
“Miss Nomical,” the warden declared with an inflamed voice, “you’re under arrest for breaching Guardian law.”
All color drain from Knoxe’s face. “What’s the charges?”
Vartros’ face hardened like my stomach. “For the murder of the mothman, a captive gantii under our protection.”
Oh, Munyara. But how? The mothman was alive when we’d all gone to training. I’d checked in on it before I went to bed because I’d been worried when the bone witch rattled her bone at him. Both times he was alive. Astra was with Tor the whole time. Locked in his cell at lights out.
Those were serious charges. Charges that would send her straight to the maximum security section of the prison.
“Dammit.” Knoxe rubbed his forehead. “There goes our only lead.”
As one, the team and I all glanced at her, a thickness formed in my throat. I never killed a gantii unless I had to defend myself or needed food. It was against my culture’s beliefs. I didn’t believe this woman had supposedly killed a captive unable to defend itself when she had defended it from violence.
“What?” Tor struggled against his captivity. “When?”
“Last night.” The warden’s eye blazed. “The mothman’s been dead for approximately eight hours.”
The warden pressed a button on his baton and aimed it at Astra. The magnet in her bracelet released her from the wall, allowing the guards to seize her. She grunted as they roughly pulled her arms behind her back and clamped them in magic handcuffs.
A growl rumbled in my chest at the way they touched her.
“No! I’m innocent.” A bitter vinegary smell emitted from her pores masking her natural scent of ginger and clove. Panic.
The guards twisted her arm, and she cried out, and a deeper growl thundered in my chest. I wanted to tear their heads off for touching her like that.
“That’s impossible.” Tor thrashed even harder. “She was with me all night.”
Even though I didn’t know her well, I wanted to protect her, and I’d had to use all my restraint not to bust down the door and kill Devon for threatening her the other night. She grew on me slowly, and I didn’t like many people in this place.
“Sir,” I voiced. “I was the last one to visit the mothman.”
Knoxe’s firm gaze flew to me and burned into me.
Oh Munyara. I’d been the last one with the mothman. My fingerprints on its face. All of it recorded on camera.
My head ached and thumped. Everything turned hazy. Oh, Munyara. If I wasn’t careful, I would shift. Then I’d be killed for my betrayal. My muscles tightened as I fought against the transformation. Fuck. This wasn’t normal. What the hell was happening?
No. Hold on, Raze.
“Yes, but your stakes were found in the mothman’s chest and back.” Vartros’ words struck in my brain like pulses of current, and I trembled even more.
A muscle cracked as my transformation commenced. Munyara no.
Chapter 27
Raze
“She didn’t fucking do it,” Tor shouted.
I repeated the same. “Warden please. She would never hurt the star man.”
The warden’s fierce gaze targeted him. “Stay out of it. All of you.” He marched out and the sentries dragged Astra along with them. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes pleading for help.
The magnet released us, and we collapsed to the ground, me panting hard, shaking off my change.
Someone grabbed me, lifted me, and thrust me into the wall.
“What the fuck, Raze?” Tor shook me hard. “You were the last one with the mothman. Did you do this? Steal her stakes and plant them on the mothman?”
Shocked, I blinked. I couldn’t believe what he accused me of. I’d never do that. I respected the land, its animals, and nature. My beast growled. “I didn’t touch her things. Point your finger elsewhere. Devon’s got it out for us.”
“Stop fighting!” Pascal shouted from the sides.
Knoxe slid in between us, pushing us apart. “Everyone needs to cool it. It’s obvious that someone’s pinned this on her to screw with us.”
Tor inhaled a deep breath and stretched his collar.
Our leader was right. Astra had reported twice now that someone had taken her stakes. I trusted these guys with my life. It wasn’t one of them. I went through possible suspects and only one came to mind. Devon. He’d obviously spooked her the day she’d followed me into the weapon’s room. Then she’d been attacked in her cell and threatened by him. No one else had motive. This was a scheme to get back at Knoxe, to catch Styx and steal the contract’s points from us, and I’d be the one to prove it.
Knoxe paced the length of the room. “Raze, did you see anyone in the hallway after you left the mothman last night?”
“No.”
“Was anyone following you?”
I almost said something else and had to bite my tongue. Carefully, I said instead, “If they were, I would have known.”
Knoxe stopped to rub his forehead. “We just lost our only lead. The mothman promised to lead us to Styx.”
“Maybe his family can give us some clues.” We all stared at Pascal. Normally, he was reserved and didn’t say much. He shrugged. “It’s worth a try, right?”
“I’ll find who did this,�
�� I said, my voice even huskier and animalistic than normal.
Tor stared at me. “Otherwise we’re all gonna be buried by this prick targeting Supergirl.”
He sure was protective of Astra. Flirted with her, trained her, stood up for her, even slept with her in his cell at night. Things I’d imagined myself doing at nights but would never dare to.
“You want her?” Jealousy stung my chest at the thought.
“That’s none of your fucking business.”
My beast growled at his response, and I staggered away from him.
What the fuck was going on? My beast had never reacted like this before. Never gotten jealous. No. Absolutely not. I had enough complications to deal with. I didn’t need a woman—cute or not—to distract me. No, she was more than cute. Admirable. Brave. Determined. A true warrior. Words I’d never stopped to consider about her before.
Munyara, what was I thinking?
Startled, I hurried out of there, heading for the holding cells where we interviewed the mothman yesterday.
I heard and smelled Tor behind me. The musky smell of his sweat mixed with his natural hazelnut and cinnamon smell did a thing to my beast… a bit like Astra’s scent. The things my beast would like to do to her also played in mind. Dammit. I had to stop thinking about her like that. I’d never act on my animalistic instincts, even though I wanted to. I couldn’t afford to.
I arrived at the holding cells and stood at the booth. “Can you let me in?”
The sentry shook his head. “No can do. Crime scene.”
Tor interrupted with, “Bill, this guy’s the best tracker this prison’s got. He’ll find your perpetrator.”
“No.”
“C’mon, man. You can watch him from the doorway. Our girl just got arrested for this and she’s innocent.”
The sentry went from frowning, to scrunching his bottom lip to eyeing off the hallway to sighing. “You’ve got two minutes.” He pressed the button and opened the door for us.
“Thanks, Bill.” Tor tapped the counter.
Fists clenched and pressed hard to my side, I entered, taking long inhales to absorb the scents. Piss, shit, entrails of various creatures on the breath of the beasts, farts, burps, fur and more.