by Chant, Zoe
No chance.
Hector moved again as the shotgun blast went off, spraying shot over the area where he’d just been.
Hector was on him a moment later, taking him out with the same move he’d used on Baz. A quick elbow to the neck and Terry’s eyes were rolling upward, before he slumped over into the dirt.
“Fuck this shit – let’s get the girl and go.”
“No fuckin’ way – I’m going back to town. Forget this shit.”
The two remaining men – sensible lads, it seemed – had realized this wasn’t a fight they were going to win. They kicked their bikes to life.
True to his word, one tore off the way they’d come, throwing up a massive cloud of dust as he went. The other pulled his bike around, heading into the desert. Right toward where Myrtle and Ruby would be hiding.
Ah, shit.
Hector had to make a split-second decision. If he let the bikie heading back to Good Fortune get away, they were sure to be back in numbers.
Forget him! his griffin screeched. Protect your mate! If there’s even a chance she could get hurt, it’s not a chance you can take!
In the end, it wasn’t even a choice.
Hector dashed forward, after the bike that was even now disappearing into the night toward the shipping containers, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. His inhuman speed was only meant for short bursts, however. He couldn’t keep it up over long distances, and he couldn’t outrun a motorbike gunning its way across the desert at full speed.
No choice, then.
He called to his griffin, allowing it to burst into the forefront of his consciousness.
It screeched as it came forward, taking over his mind, its animal instincts – the howling in its blood to protect its mate at all costs, to kill anyone who might so much as threaten her – drowning out human reason. He felt his wings spread out from his back, lifting him into the air with two powerful sweeps.
He’d done this enough times since he was a teenager for him to control the shift – the change from human into the half-lion, half-eagle hybrid that was his griffin form.
Controlling it came hard, the first few times. The griffin was a powerful creature, and it would take over his mind if he let it. Shifters who couldn’t control their animal sides and bring them into harmony with their human selves could sometimes find themselves stuck in their shifted forms, their minds taken over entirely by the instincts of the beast within them. Without hard work and training, shifters could easily lose either one side of themselves or the other.
And when the creature that lived inside you was as powerful as a griffin… well, that took an extra layer of control.
Even now, Hector found himself struggling to assert himself. With his mate’s life on the line, the griffin’s instincts were in overdrive, screeching for blood. Power and strength coursed through him, and he reined it in only with difficulty.
No killing! he told his griffin as they surged through the night air, the bikie below them, his headlights clearly visible in the darkness. Are you listening to me?!
His griffin only growled in response, but Hector was pretty sure it got the message. He’d never had a problem with it losing its shit and killing anyone before, and even in life-or-death situations he’d managed to incapacitate rather than kill when in his griffin form.
But those were times when his mate hadn’t been involved. Could he be sure he could hold the griffin back if Myrtle were seriously threatened?
He didn’t know. The fury seething through the griffin now was like nothing he’d ever felt from it before. It was taking all his strength just to hold it back even this much. He’d built a sturdy relationship with his griffin through the years, to the point where its occasional lecturing more amused him than irritated him. But in this situation, he knew he needed to keep it tightly under control.
He is there. The one who threatens our mate. He must bleed!
Hector concentrated all his efforts into controlling the griffin’s wild fury as they folded their wings, swooping into a dive.
Bleed, maybe. Die, no, he told it again as they sped downward, talons extended out in front of them. No matter how much he may deserve it.
He couldn’t be sure that the griffin was listening to him at all, but Hector still had at least some control over his body, and he forced the griffin to snatch away its claws a second before they embedded themselves in the man’s flesh.
Instead, he sped up at the last moment, swooping down to land heavily a few meters in front of the man, rearing back on his lion’s hind legs, spreading his wings wide and opening his beak in a mighty screech of rage.
He could see the look of terror on the man’s face, illuminated by his own headlights, as he hit the brakes, coming to a screeching halt and tumbling over in the dirt, the engine of his bike stuttering and then stalling completely.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!”
The man’s scream cut through the night as he scrabbled in the dust, trying to disentangle himself from his bike. He tried to get the bike upright to speed away, but after a couple of failed attempts he left it where it was, and ran, still screaming, into the night.
We should go after him, the griffin told him as he reared up again, screeching at the man’s departing back. Show him what happens when he tries to harm a griffin’s mate!
I think he gets it, Hector said, pulling it back only with some effort. Look, he’s gone. And he’ll have some explaining to do about how he got that wet patch on his jeans, I bet.
He’ll bring others if we let him escape, his griffin argued, growling.
It had a point there – but Hector had already let one bikie go this evening, who’d raise the alarm a lot faster than the guy who could still be distantly seen moving at a run, the sound of his screams drifting back to him on the wind.
Right now, we need to focus on getting Myrtle to safety. The bikies are a problem for the police now.
The griffin, however reluctantly, was won over by the argument that Myrtle needed to be taken to a safe place.
Hector gave the man’s bike one last contemptuous look, its wheels still spinning slightly as it lay on its side on the ground, before turning around to –
– To see Myrtle standing in the doorway of the shipping container, light flooding out from the room behind her, a mid-sized kitchen knife clutched in one hand, and an utterly stricken expression on her face.
Hector almost called out her name to ask her what was wrong, when he suddenly recalled that as far as Myrtle was concerned, she was looking at some kind of terrifying, bloodthirsty monster.
Myrtle! Don’t be scared!
He tried to reach out to her with his mind, but, unlike other mystical shifters, griffins had no powers of telepathy that he could call on.
The only thing that happened was that his eagle’s beak let out a low, worried croon.
Our mate is frightened, his griffin insisted, trying to force his legs to move. We must go to her!
Myrtle gasped, tripping a little as she stumbled backwards, lifting the knife. She looked terrified.
Hector froze.
He knew he needed to explain, to show her that he’d never harm her – but in the end, there was only one thing running through his mind.
Ah, fucking hell.
Chapter 6
Myrtle stumbled back, her fingers wound tightly around the knife she’d found in the makeshift kitchen.
The – the whatever it was stood a few feet away from her, half-illuminated by the headlights of the motorcycle that lay on its side in the dirt. Aside from letting out a small, soft sound at the sight of her, it hadn’t moved at all, but she guessed that it was what had made the terrifying screeching sound just a few moments earlier.
She knew Hector had told her to stay where she was, but at the sound of the screech followed by a man’s screams and the roar of a motorcycle engine, she’d felt she couldn’t just sit around and wait. Hector might have needed her help.
Myrtle hadn’t known what exactly she’
d expected to see when she’d flung open the door, but it wasn’t this – this thing.
She could hear her heart hammering in her ears as she stared. She could only see part of it in the beam of the headlights, but that was enough to know she’d never seen anything like it before. No one had. She could see massive wings on the creature’s back, but those were definitely mammalian legs. And its eyes…
No, it can’t be. It looks like… like…
“Hector!”
His name was out of her mouth before she could think.
Oh God, if this monster has hurt him, I’ll –
Myrtle shook her head. She couldn’t allow herself to complete the thought. The idea that Hector could be out there in the darkness, hurt or – or –
“Hector, can you hear me?!”
At her shout, the creature seemed to pause, its only half-visible head cocking slightly. It let out another soft sound, almost like the comforting chirp she knew some species of birds used when calling to their mates to keep track of them.
Strangely enough, she felt the sound as much as she heard it – felt it washing over her like a gentle wave of warm water, soothing her frayed nerves, calming her hammering heart…
She shook herself, blinking.
You don’t fool me, Myrtle thought desperately, staring at the beast.
“Hector!” she called out again.
At this, the creature seemed to take a small step back, as if hesitating. It shook its huge wings – Just how big are they?! – and then began to… shrink?!
Myrtle watched, eyes wide, as the creature seemed to fold in on itself, its massive wings retracting, head pulling back. It seemed almost to shimmer as it changed its shape, turning from something that was definitely a four-legged animal into – into –
“Hector?!”
Myrtle gasped out his name as she realized what – or rather who – she was looking at, standing there in the glow of the motorcycle’s headlights.
Vaguely, she felt her fingers go slack, the knife clattering to the floor beside her.
This has to be a dream, Myrtle decided as she stared, her legs wobbling beneath her. A really freaky dream, brought on by jetlag. Yeah, that’s gotta be it. I’ll wake up tomorrow and find out this whole thing has just been one really, really bizarre dream…
She’d miss Ruby on waking up and finding out she’d dreamed her up, Myrtle supposed. But on reflection, it made complete sense for Hector to be a figment of her imagination. Men that hot just didn’t exist in real life.
Ah well. I suppose I should’ve known.
“Myrtle!”
She hadn’t realized she’d sunk to her knees until she felt strong arms around her shoulders, pulling her against a warm, solid chest.
Mmm. This is a good dream. I may as well enjoy it.
She looked up into Hector’s face, letting her gaze linger on his golden-brown eyes, before slowly drifting down to his lips. His breath was warm on her face, and when she lifted her hand to cup his cheek, his stubble was rough beneath her palm.
That’s okay, she thought. I like a man who looks like a man.
“Myrtle –”
Hector’s voice as he said her name was low and hoarse, and she shivered, feeling heat pool in her belly.
“Myrtle, I –”
“No talking,” she whispered. She knew what she was about to say was corny as hell, but fuck it, this was her dream. She’d do what she liked. “Just this.”
She leaned up, seeking his lips with hers. Myrtle gasped as they brushed against each other, a jolt of electricity running from him into her, setting her nerves on fire.
Mmmm, she thought, pressing closer. Definitely a really good dream…
The kiss was searing – the kind of kiss she knew could only exist in a movie or on the pages of a romance novel. She’d certainly never experienced a kiss like this before in all her life. White hot liquid fire shot through her veins, filling her with desperate heat.
She could feel Hector’s own answering heat, his tongue sliding against hers, his large hands drawing her even closer against him.
Myrtle gave herself up to it. She never wanted this to end. She’d be perfectly happy if she just stayed in the bubble of this little dream world her brain had created, with this endless kiss…
“Uh, Myrtle.”
Hector’s voice seemed to throb with heat, but talking wasn’t what Myrtle wanted from him right now. But when she leaned up again, seeking his mouth, he pulled away.
Uh, what?
Myrtle opened her eyes to find Hector looking down at her, his eyes dark with desire. But he was still very definitely out of kissing range.
Oh great, now even my dream man doesn’t want me anymore.
“Myrtle, I won’t… I won’t pretend I wouldn’t love to keep doing this, but right now, I think we need to –”
“Shit,” Myrtle muttered, cutting him off. “I’m not dreaming, am I.”
Hector blinked. “Uh, no. Sorry?”
Oh God. How embarrassing.
Myrtle closed her eyes, willing herself to sink into the earth.
Of course, she didn’t do any such thing. But when she opened her eyes again, Hector was still staring down at her with a passionate intensity that made her toes curl, his arms still around her shoulders.
But if it’s not a dream, that means he really did kiss me just now, she thought vaguely. Though it also means that I just saw him shapeshift from being some kind of monster.
Well, she supposed there had to be some differences between American guys and Australian guys, but this just seemed ridiculous.
“What are you?” she blurted out, as Hector moved to help her to her feet. Hector hesitated.
“I’d love to tell you everything, Myrtle, I really would. But right now, we have to move. Those bikies’ll come back, and we shouldn’t be here when they do.”
“You mean you didn’t –” Myrtle bit her lip, halting her words. She’d been about to say eat them, but she realized that that might not be the most tactful thing to say just now.
I’m worrying about tact with a guy who turns into a giant winged beast, she thought as Hector urged her inside. I must have something wrong with me.
She shook her head.
Uh, you just kissed a guy who turns into a giant winged beast, she reminded herself. Is that better or worse than worrying about hurting his feelings?
There was too much going on right now for Myrtle to figure that out. Hector was hurriedly throwing a few things into a sports bag – clothes, a few smaller electronics, pre-packaged food, bottles from the fridge – before he hurried away into the second room.
“You’ll need to grab Ruby,” his voice drifted out to her a moment later. “I think she likes you more than she likes me. And we’ll need her to feel safe for this.”
Myrtle didn’t argue with him. What could she say? Everything was happening so fast she felt like she barely had time to think. She walked over to where Ruby was sleeping beneath the heat lamp, her sides rising and falling gently with her breath, her tiny head tucked beneath one feathery wing.
“Hey little one,” she whispered, reaching out to stroke a finger over Ruby’s silvery mane. “Hey, it’s time to get up. Not sure what’s going on, but your dad says we gotta move.”
Your dad.
She hadn’t meant to say it. The words had just rolled naturally off her tongue.
But that, just like everything else that was going on right now, wasn’t something she had time to think about.
Ruby blinked her huge, liquid eyes sleepily as she woke, lifting her head and gazing at Myrtle with something close to resentment. She yawned, treating Myrtle to a full and complete view of the inside of her mouth, before shaking her head and starting to stand up.
“Meee-eeh?”
The whinny had a definite questioning sound to it, as Myrtle carefully scooped Ruby up, tucking her under her arm, her chest resting on her palm. Ruby didn’t make a fuss – she simply looked up at Myrtle, eyes full of
trust.
“That’s right, little one – you know me,” Myrtle murmured. “We just need to get going. And then you can get some more sleep, I promise.”
Hector emerged from the other room, holding a laptop.
“I just need to do one or two more things,” he said. “And then we’re off.”
“Things?” Myrtle felt stupid, but she was pretty sure she could be excused, given the circumstances.
“One, I need to send a beacon up,” Hector said. “An electronic beacon. That’ll let my colleagues know that something’s gone wrong, and we need picking up. And then I need to set this place to self-destruct.”
Myrtle caught her breath. “You mean like… to explode?”
Hector shook his head. “Nothing so dramatic, I’m afraid. I just need to flip a kill switch that’ll completely wipe the hard drives of everything here totally beyond recovery. If anyone finds this place, all they’ll find is a bunch of bricked computers.”
“Oh. Okay.” Somehow, Myrtle felt disappointed. It would just top off the already ridiculous evening she’d had if, along with everything else, she were to stride off across the landscape, a tiny baby pegasus tucked under her arm and a stupidly good-looking man who just happened to turn into a giant winged monster by her side, while a giant fiery explosion went off behind her. As if things weren’t already Mad Max enough around here.
To be honest, however, Myrtle wasn’t sure she was cool enough to pull it off. She’d probably trip over a rock or something. So a boring kill switch was probably for the best.
She watched as Hector zipped up the sports bag, all his movements quick and efficient.
“You don’t have any clothes other than what you’re wearing, do you?” he asked.
“No,” Myrtle said, shaking her head. All her clothes were back in the hotel in Good Fortune. Along with all her notebooks, data collecting equipment, her laptop, everything she needed to do her work…
The only things she had were her cell phone, a notepad, and a bottle of water.
But somehow, she didn’t think she was going to get much work done out here after all.