Sanibel Fire

by Talyn Scott

  He bent his knees and jumped high, passing over the doorway leading to the boat dock.

  “Drop to the ground!” An urgent voice bellowed from the shore.

  Boom!

  He went sideways, nearly toppling into the water, but managed to pull her back with him.

  Jenny slammed down to her knees and elbows, right on the rough wood. “Ah!”

  Boom!

  Searlas landed on her, wrapping his body protectively around hers. He knew his weight was almost too much for Jenny, but he would prove worthy as her armor.

  “You’re crushing me!” she screamed, trying to get from under him with an elbow to his ribs.

  “Stop it.” He leveled more weight atop her, pressing his knee against the back of hers to keep her still. His Uncle Gage had taught him how to exert just the right amount of pressure, how much stress each bone could take without causing it to fracture. And although he thought he would only use this knowledge during sparring or fighting, Searlas was forced to use it in order to protect his stubborn female. “Be still or you’ll draw attention to us.” Surprisingly enough, Jenny listened, so he relieved her of some pressure.

  Then a good five minutes of silence passed — the deadly kind.

  Searlas lifted his head slightly, surveying their immediate area. The bow of Bren’s boat now sported quite a crater, and half of the dock was sinking. “Shit,” he grumbled, his sensitive ears ringing from the explosions, “we might be stuck swimming.”

  “I can’t breathe.” Another slam against his ribs, which probably hurt her more than it hurt him. “Off. Me.”

  Boom!

  This explosion, larger than the others, was far too close. It rocked through the compound with an earsplitting roar, flinging them to the side. Jenny rolled towards the edge.

  “Jenny!” Searlas managed to grab her before she flew right off the dock. He cradled her in his arms, pushing her hair from her face. She moaned when a rocket of flames shot overhead, the ensuing heat fanning out enough to scorch skin.

  Searlas sucked in a lungful of smoke. All around, the devil’s fireworks illuminated the night, while the compound went down in a blaze of horrifying destruction.

  Jed called out from somewhere, but Searlas couldn’t spot him.

  Having no choice, he flipped Jenny again, climbing on her back and securing her with his body. This time, however, he scented Jenny’s blood, a lot of blood. “Baby, you’re hurt?”

  “Burning,” she sobbed, “so hot.”

  She wasn’t afire, but flames had licked her and charred at least her arms. Despite her injuries, he kept atop her, knowing the splintered wood was stabbing into her arms, abrading the raw, blistered flesh of her delicate skin. “Try not to move,” he yelled from above her when another explosion went off, the ringing in his ears increasing. “Just stay down.”

  “We can’t stay here in the open!”

  “As of now, everything is out in the open.”

  “M-more fire,” she cried in horrified awe, as she fractionally lifted her head and spotted what he’d been studying for the past sixty-seconds. “Blue fire.”

  He pressed the back of her head with his palm, forcing her face to the dock, to shield her. “Immortal fire.” He’d never before seen this blue blaze, this death to nearly any immortal it had a chance to consume, and he hoped to God it quit spreading.

  “It’s coming for us, burning up the dock,” she pleaded and squirmed. “We have to jump in the water.”

  “Not yet.” Smoke burned his throat, threatening to fill his lungs.

  “The next explosion could land smack on top of us!”

  “Stay still.” He smelled diesel fuel, massive amounts, and he suspected it now floated in the water courtesy of a direct hit underneath Bren’s boat. If immortal fire touched the water while they were in it or anywhere near it… “Do you have the ability to mist, Jenny?”

  “No,” she replied on the tail-end of a racking cough, “hardly any female can do that.”

  “Just checking.”

  “Sear!”

  Music to his ringing ears! “Over here, Eagan!” Searlas couldn’t spot Eagan for a gust of wind lifted ash, swirling it into obscuring clouds. “Jenny’s hurt, needs help!”

  “Oh, hell no!” A dark shadow sailed through the air before a heavy thud of boots hit the dock’s remains. Then, Eagan appeared by their side. “It’s impossible to mist through this.” He kneeled next to Jenny, pushing her hair from her face. “How are you, love? I smell your blood.”

  “Burns,” Searlas explained. “I fear from immortal fire.”

  “Let’s just get out of here,” Jenny insisted, her voice raspy from coughing.

  When Searlas rolled from her, he spotted shrapnel embedded in her back, blood soaking her top. He reached out to touch her, but immediately drew back his hands. “It’s bad, Eagan.”

  “Is it burning inside of you, Jenny?” Eagan asked, keeping his composure in the war zone, unlike Searlas.

  “No.” She faced Eagan, her eyes blazing werewolf blue. “What’s happening?”

  Eagan searched the wrecked boats, shaking his head. “Rogue Gryphs are encroaching on Pack. They’re everywhere.” His eyes dropped to the water, obviously smelling the same thing as Searlas.

  “We must move before the fire touches the diesel infused water.”

  Jaw firm, Eagan directed, “I’ll get you as far as I can go, and then I must release my Beta Beast and fight, or none of us will come out alive.”

  Jenny fisted her hands, pushing against the dock to rise with Searlas’ assistance. Eyes straining through smoke, Searlas blinked through ash laden lashes until he finally spotted the winged males circling low over the compound. “Why are they here?”

  Eagan carefully lifted Jenny in his arms. “These particular vampires once guarded The Dynasty Empire, the royals of the vampire race, until they illegally broke free from the Worldwide Vampire Coven. They’re here to settle a score for their bastard Prince Extol, to take our territory in the process.”

  “By burning things down with immortal fire?”

  “They fight dirty,” Eagan replied.

  “But so do we,” Jenny gritted out.

  Eagan started walking. “The worst of the fires is to the East.” Depending on if another explosion erupted. “We’ll head the opposite way.”

  When he jumped over a broken length of dock, Jenny lost her stern composure, a sob breaking free. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’ve never felt this sort of pain.”

  “I’m surprised you’re still conscious.” Eagan said tenderly, then locked eyes with Searlas, motioned to the next length of dock separated by the water. A Gryph stood there, waiting for them, its black as sin wings extended at least sixteen feet, probably more.

  Searlas gave Eagan a quizzical look, keeping his question silent since Jenny hadn’t spotted the Gryph. What was it waiting for, standing there and staring at them in avid interest?

  Eagan tilted his chin down, his eyes flaring in fury, silently motioning to Jenny.

  Baring his canines, Searlas whipped his head towards the winged vampire. Never would this creature take the female, his female. Searlas made to jump, to destroy the creature so Eagan could get Jenny to safety, to much-needed medical attention, but Eagan moved in front of him.

  “It’s up to you, Sear,” he said, handing Jenny over to Searlas. “It takes two werewolves to bring down one of Gryph.”

  And I’m a halfling, Searlas cursed silently. He nodded, taking Jenny in his arms, her sobs increasing from the passing of hands over her destroyed back. “There’s only one of you. It’s still a — ”

  “Don’t tell me the odds.” Eagan fully transformed into a legendary monster, a dark gladiator from the deepest night. “I’m a Ruyter,” Eagan rumbled in his Beta Beast’s voice. “I was born for this.”

  With an earth shattering roar, he whipped his head to stare down the Gryph. The vampire pointed at Eagan, crooking his finger in a come-here motion. Eagan bared his canines and
jumped high, boots over head, before landing square on the Gryph’s chest. From there, they moved in blurring speed Searlas couldn’t begin to follow.

  Searlas fought his shock, his awe in his friend, and gripped Jenny to his chest. “Here goes everything, baby.” He kissed her forehead, bent his knees, and jumped as far as his strength could take him — to the next hunk of floating dock.

  Chapter 6

  Fighting his urge to look back and check on Eagan, Searlas navigated the remaining pieces of dock with sure footing, careful of the precious cargo in his arms. Even though the flames had yet to make it to the water, if Jenny fell in, the salt and diesel fuel would unleash a new hell on her wounds.

  “I can walk,” Jenny whispered, her voice filled with unhidden agony.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m not exactly walking at the moment.” Landing on the last floating piece, he teetered several long seconds before regaining his balance. “Just close your eyes and try not to move your back against me.”

  No Gryphs hovered above them, but tens, maybe even hundreds, flew above and stormed below.

  They battled.

  They raged.

  They flayed flesh from the bones of werewolves, smiling with celestial blood dripping from their fangs and claws.

  In this battle, all Searlas could do was get Jenny to safety. And he wasn’t too sure that was going to happen. Since he lived in Miami, Searlas knew only of this compound’s security perimeter, which hid Sanibel’s main bunkers.

  To the right, a three-sided fort fronted a two-story apartment building. That building, he realized, housed the closest bunker.

  Bending his legs, he blew out every bit of air from his lungs, and wished his feet to fly.

  Landing waist deep in seawater, he positioned Jenny high on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He marched through the water at furious speed, the tainted liquid splashing her back with every lift of his legs. “Hang on.”

  “Put me down, Sear,” Jenny pleaded.

  “Almost there.” Territorial cries echoed in the night as Searlas reached the shoreline and bolted for the bunker. His feet pounded the beach, spraying the sand behind them as he lifted his knees higher and higher to gain distance.

  He still couldn’t believe what he was seeing, the masses of winged creatures spiraling in the sky before landing to the ground and engaging in hand to hand combat. “They’re nothing more than winged demons.”

  “Most any rogue is a demon,” Jenny agreed weakly, as they hit the crumbled sidewalk leading to the bunker. “But they usually won’t touch the humans.”

  Searlas glanced to the restaurant they’d left earlier. “You’re right.” Astonishingly enough, humans remained just outside of the compound’s miasma. The noise of immortal battle going on inside a celestially sustained bubble, where winged vampires and werewolves fought to the death, never reached their mortal ears. It was startling to Searlas, to see mundane life functioning just outside of a war zone, and he wondered at it all. Wondered at his decision to enter this savagely cruel world, even though he’d never once fit in with humans.

  The bunker’s door came into grasping distance as another set of smaller explosions set off from an adjacent dock. But Searlas held hope for Eagan and Jed’s survival, then shifted Jenny in his arms and yanked open the door.

  A waft of cold air hit them, a small relief for Jenny’s burns. “I’ll get you below and see to your wounds.” He knew by reviewing the schematics with Gage that medical stations were set up in each of the three corners, all on the lowest level. But the building’s power was off, and he needed to feel his way to the first stair rail. His eyesight was better than that of a human, but not well enough to see through the darkness that was enshrouding them. Still, keeping Jenny securely over his shoulder, Searlas found the first lower landing.

  A thick shadow loomed on the far wall, lending to the sensation of being watched he’d experienced since landing in the water. Cold sweat trickled down his spine as he picked up speed while making his way down another flight of steps. In one more landing, he would arrive on the bottom level, where Searlas could lock them inside and wait out the battle, with both medical supplies and emergency rations in hand.

  A metal door slammed above, echoing through the stairwell. “I saw a female headed this way, in the arms of a human.”

  “She’ll make a good bargaining chip for dealing with the Alpha.”

  “Or we can kill the human male and play with her a while before we turn her in to Prince Extol.”

  Searlas gritted his teeth and hit the bottom floor with the enemy breathing on his ass. They were goading him, toying with their prey, Searlas knew this. But he fought to stay calm and focused; for words usually meant nothing without action, but the Gryph’s taunts led him to believe they would also torture just for the fun of it. And he wondered at it all, at the creatures’ maddened reasoning. Then again, how could he begin to understand evil?

  “Sear.”

  “Hush,” he whispered to Jenny.

  The same shadow loomed on the lower wall, near the first locking door. Searlas pressed on, having no other choice but to ignore it. Getting Jenny inside and locking the door was his first concern.

  When reaching for the locking door, though, another set of explosions rocked the building’s interior, rumbling the floor, and a series of cracks erupted in the main walls, deepening by the second.

  Above their heads, wood and sheetrock rained down, a heavy clunk of metal just missing them. So Searlas yanked Jenny to the floor, once again jumping on her drained and damaged body. If the roof collapsed there was nothing he could do to save them, but he could somewhat protect her from the force of falling debris.

  “Give her up, human.” A voice echoed from behind the stairwell, a vampire obscured by half-mist striding toward them with deliberate movements. “I’m taking her to safety.”

  Searlas jumped from Jenny and reached his hand back for the door. “I’m to believe a vampire on this night?” He opened it. “I don’t think so.”

  Boots thundered down the stairwell. “I hear them!” one shouted.

  Screams of rage and pain still echoed outside. And inside, the looming shadow on the wall grew larger.

  Searlas swung the door wide and dragged Jenny by the waist, just as another hunk of debris clanked to the concrete floor, barely missing her head. Then metal bounced on concrete, gears and screws spinning across the floor. “Fuck!” The locking mechanism, had been destroyed by the latest blast.

  “You’re going to get her killed,” the vampire seethed, blocking the only exit — the stairwell, and pulled a long blade from a sheath on his back. “I need her alive.”

  Two Gryphs jumped down the stairwell, one slamming into the vampire’s back and sending his blade flying from his hand.

  Searlas instinctively covered Jenny with his body as he reached into his boot for a dagger.

  But it was too late.

  …much too late

  Reaching up with his hands, Searlas felt his throat. “Jenny,” he wheezed as his final breath left his lungs, “oh, Jenny.”

  Pain never registered as Searlas dropped his dagger and fell to his knees. Nor did his life pass before his eyes when death wrapped its cold, dark hand around his heart and squeezed.

  Biting back a scream, Jenny stayed on the floor next to Searlas. She feigned unconsciousness while fractionally keeping her eyes open. With the blade in hand Searlas had dropped, she waited for her enemies to come closer.

  “Get her!”

  A booted foot kicked aside Searlas’ lifeless body. She kept her breathing even, fought the pounding of her heart, and pushed back the rage of Searlas’ death to concentrate on only one thing: She would brandish vengeance with exact precision, with Searlas’ personal blade.

  Blood for blood.

  Death for death.

  One Gryph jumped the vampire whose blade killed Searlas, and the other lifted her. She fought to stay limp through the agonizing pain of his hold and kept her dagger hand hidd
en beneath the hem of her tank top.

  “Werewolf blood.” His fangs gleamed white in the cloudy darkness. And when the Gryph wrapped his ebony wings around her, the silky feathers startling soft for a killer’s body, he pulled Jenny tight against his naked chest. “I am injured and you smell too delicious to resist.”

  Jenny reared back and punched his throat with her elbow.

  Swearing, he released Jenny long enough for her to thrust the dagger upwards, right beneath his sternum. To her frustration, the blade was too short to reach the Gryph’s heart, causing but a mere distraction. Jenny held firm to her weapon, yanking it out of his chest and jumping toward the stairwell.

  But the Gryph howled behind her, en chase. His leg shot out when she took her first step and connected with her femur.

  A scream rent her lungs as the thick bone snapped in half.

  A shadow peeled from the wall as the Gryph toppled her.

  Still holding the dagger, Jenny aimed high this time, from left to right, and sliced the bastard clear across his throat before he could wrench it from her hand. An arc of arterial spray painted her but she kept on slicing, blinking his blood away from her eyes. Only clean decapitation would kill a Gryph and even then they were known to come back on occasion.

  “You’re not worth the trouble!” The Gryph brought up his be-clawed hands in a clear move to behead her. She twisted right to ward off his deathblow and her blade slashed out to the side, burying deep into someone’s leg. The Gryph above her suddenly started gurgling and flailing. Since Jenny couldn’t kick out with her broken leg shoved him from her the best she could. Then starting to crawl up the stairs, a body slammed to the floor next to her.

  “Jed!”

  To her horror, Searlas’ dagger was buried deep in his heel. She’d caused him to fall, which allowed the second Gryph to reach inside his chest and pull out his beating heart. Blood overflowed the floor, wetting her hair, soaking her anew.