Arik
I landed in the alley outside the lair I’d established under cover of darkness, folding my wings on the run. The female groaned as I shifted her to my shoulder, psych energy continuing to pulse around her, skin like a furnace despite the fact that we were both damn near frozen from the long minutes in flight. Either the triggering had fried her brain or she had a helluva lot of power floating around in her head that she couldn’t control—and that made her even more valuable. She was an asset, a tool I could use for my own end.
If I could keep her alive.
The area might look like shit, but the security system protecting my lair was as advanced as it got. After securing the entrance behind me, I followed a set of stairs down to another door. This one led to a small suite of rooms. Inside, I didn’t bother with a light, just crossed the outer room quickly to a second room with a bed in the corner of the otherwise bare, pitch-black space, dropped the female onto it, and returned to secure the main door, this time with a series of deadbolts and chains that would’ve had Houdini thinking twice. Through it all, my “guest” never moved.
Once we were protected, I returned to the cot to stare down at her in the darkness. My animal form gave me sight better than even the sister birds related to my griffin, enabling me to see both during light and dark over three times better than humans. I didn’t need light to see the dark streaks and blotches of dried blood on her body, her clothes, the creamy skin of her shoulders and the swell of her breasts almost, but not quite, concealed beneath the silky material of her shirt. As I bent closer, a trail of freckles stood out against their pale background, whispering to me to follow, to pull the shirt Maddox had torn just a little bit farther and find out where they led.
Right to the savage wound on her neck. Where else was she injured? The way she’d been tossed around, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was more. I should find out, right?
The griffin purred beneath my skin, pleased at the idea of seeing her naked.
More than one reason does exist to get her out of her clothes, dipshit.
I turned my back and marched into the bathroom, ignoring the unhappy growl of my animal rumbling behind my sternum. This proprietary shit would drive me nuts if it went on much longer. I needed to stick to business: first, clean myself up, then her. I stripped, tossed my bloodstained clothes and weapons on the floor to deal with later, then flipped on the shower, stepping in without waiting for the water to warm.
The wet slide chilled my skin as I hurriedly sluiced it over my body. Blood and sweat and dirty ashes circled the drain. I closed my eyes against the memories the sight evoked, only to have the images superimpose themselves on the backs of my eyelids—blood spatter on the walls, ashes littering the floor of my parents’ home. Taking out the majority of Maddox’s team had been the perfect opening salvo, proving to my enemy that I was no longer the unprepared victim. I’d learned to win the hard way, under Maddox’s thumb.
Even now, thinking about those horrendous years, anger wound my gut up tight. The first five centuries after my parents’ murders, Maddox had spent tracking me, finding me, only to torture me and anyone close to me before disappearing once more. It had been a game, and Maddox reveled in it, destroying my life over and over, only to let me believe I was safe once again. But I had finally escaped the game, escaped Maddox. I’d gathered power, knowledge. I’d planned, and now I was close, so close to my revenge that I could taste it. Maddox was about to pay, and the little female in the other room would make an interesting addition to my plans.
I threw on a pair of fatigues and returned to the bedroom. Lying on the mattress, the female looked small, almost childlike except for those firm breasts and the rounded hips that proclaimed her an adult. Softer emotions had died within me centuries ago—maybe if they hadn’t, seeing her like this might tug at me, draw some empathy. Empathy had been burned from my soul. I could use her, not care what happened to her. Keeping her alive was a necessity, yet even at this distance I could see the sheen of sweat coating her face, the feverish pink tone of her skin as she twisted restlessly, seeking relief.
When I forced myself to the edge of the cot, my heart skipped a beat. Dark black circles shadowed eyes sunken into her skull. The flush of fever across her cheekbones only highlighted the stark white pallor of her skin. In the hollow at the base of her throat, a pulse beat, fast, hard, and uneven. I reached out to lay the back of my hand against her forehead, studiously ignoring the silken brush of her hair as I pushed it away, and swallowed grimly at the searing heat that met my touch. She was beautiful, no doubt about it—and sinking fast.
Why did the picture she made as she lay there, completely without defenses, open to me in a way neither human nor Archai had been for centuries, make my mouth go dry and my heart take up a hard, thumping rhythm?
“Focus, asshole.” If the fever got much higher—and depending on the amount of electrical activity rioting in her brain right now, it would—she’d go into convulsions. I had to get it down if I could.
The tiny kitchen yielded a bowl, the bathroom a washcloth and cold water. I carried both back to the bed. Surprisingly, the female turned her head at my approach, squinting in the darkness. Bet her head hurt like a son of a bitch, but even without the pain, the pitch-black was enough to hide me from her sight. Which was better for now, just until I figured out how to handle her.
She tried to speak around the gag, but all that escaped was a questioning sound. I knew the moment realization hit—her hands rose to her mouth, fingering the gag, her eyes going round and freaked out when she tugged at the zip tie holding her wrists together. Then the shrieking and jerking and scrambling away from me began.
A part of me, bastard that I was, relished her fear, the proof of my power over her, just as I did with others. I wasn’t merely good at isolating myself now; I enjoyed it. But in her condition…not good. So how exactly did I calm a scared female?
I had no fucking idea. Talk to her? “You’re safe. Don’t worry.”
More muffled shrieking and struggling. Considering the clipped sound of my words, the gravel from lack of use, talking probably wasn’t going to help. The female confirmed it when she pushed even farther back, right to the edge of the bed. Before I could reach her, she rolled—and fell off.
I rounded the bed on the run, spitting curses as the thunk of her head hitting the ground echoed in my ears.
The female lay quiet on the floor, likely stunned. Until I gripped her arm—then the explosion came. Tied and injured and weak, she still fought like a wildcat, squirming to escape as I lugged her off the floor and back onto the bed. She landed facedown but didn’t wait for me to flip her over. She jerked around first, pulled her knees up to her chest. I landed hard on her folded legs before she could kick out.
“Don’t even think about it.”
There were tears on her face and a glare in her fever-glazed eyes as she strained to see her attacker in the dark. My animal rose, and with it the absurd need to lick her tears away, calm her with my tongue, my mouth. I settled my body more heavily on her instead, until she was panting around her gag beneath my crushing weight. A whimper struggled through the cloth crowding her mouth.
Good.
“Now if you’ll behave, I’ll make you more comfortable. If not…” My shrug earned a flinch from the female, like she was expecting a blow. “I’ve got no problem leaving you just like this.”
The female stilled, the only movement the rise and fall of her chest as she strained for air.
I leaned my head a little closer. “Will you behave?”
She head butted me.
“Christ!” Through the little birdies circling my head, I watched the female clench her eyes shut. Her expression shouted pain, but I couldn’t find sympathy for her. Not when my nose felt broken. Instead I got right back up in her face. “Don’t make me hurt you,” I snarled.
At the feel of my hot breath on her skin, she shrank into the mattress, pushing weakly away from me. With a rough growl I flipped her onto her stomach and held her there with a hand and knee pressed into her spine.
But when I grabbed her arm—more roughly than necessary, probably—my griffin roared, fighting me, refusing the instinctive need to force her surrender. I cursed the animal but gentled my touch as I pulled her arms to one side, out from under her, still held together by the tie that bound them. With the knife I’d set on the bedside table, I cut the plastic open. The female fought for her freedom, her shaky efforts no match for my superior strength and position. I wrangled her wrists with ease, securing first one, then the other with loops of strong cloth attached to the headboard.
Compromise, see? She wouldn’t be going anywhere, and my griffin would stop bitching about her discomfort.
My animal’s response was a little too close to go fuck yourself for agreement.
Careful of the female’s continued flailing, I repeated the cut-and-retie process with her feet. Splayed out on her belly, there was little she could do to fight. She knew it too, because she slowly settled. Or maybe that was weakness. Fever still heated her skin, and the struggle had reopened the wound on her neck. Blood oozed onto the sheets. I sheathed my knife and moved to the female’s head.
“I’m going to clean you up, try to make you more comfortable.” I ignored the faint snort my words earned me and allowed a flash of light from my eyes to illuminate my hand where it rested on my knife hilt. “Your clothes need to come off; I’ve got to get your fever down, and a cool bath is the only way to do it. You’ve got to be still, understand?”
Fear surged in her glistening eyes, shortened her already panting breath. But despite the stiffness of her body, she nodded her understanding. A huff escaped me. Brave female.
I went straight to work before she changed her mind. First her shirt—a slice down each sleeve, then the back. The material fell away to reveal a thin bra strap. I tugged and fiddled with the clasp, then yanked impatiently, finally popping the catch open. Cut the straps. I refused to look at the expanse of creamy skin I revealed, but I couldn’t ignore the dimples at the base of her spine since I had to slide the knife beneath the waistband of her skirt. The female flinched as steel met skin, but quickly forced herself still again.
I made as short a work as possible removing the clothes from her lower body, then her shoes. Ignoring the hollows and rounded curves was harder, especially when I took up the cloth to bathe her skin. My sight gifted me with the minutest details, including the goose bumps rising on her flesh in the wake of the cool water. Only when I bypassed her most intimate parts and proceeded to her shoulders and a careful cleansing of her neck wound did she finally stop shaking.
Too bad I couldn’t get my animal to calm as well. The damn thing wouldn’t stop wanting her. Unfortunately, the griffin’s and my libidos were in perfect agreement. The female possessed a wholesome, down-to-earth kind of beauty that sneaked past my defenses to grab me by the balls. And the hard length digging into the zipper of my fatigues agreed.
Stand down! I barked at my animal—and my body. Who the hell cared if my cock was begging for attention? It wasn’t like I hadn’t had a hard-on before; I had, thousands, and none of them had meant anything. This one didn’t either.
I toweled her dry and covered her bare skin with a sheet and, when she shivered, a blanket. Her gaze, hazy with pain and fatigue, settled somewhere in my vicinity as I squatted by the bed. The way her eyes jerked in their sockets, little ticks of movement, didn’t bode well.
“If you can behave, I’ll take out the gag.” It was a risk, yes, but I needed some answers.
She closed those restless eyes with the barest nod.
When the material slipped from her mouth, she didn’t react. No testing her jaw, swallowing, no indication of relief. I settled a hand against her forehead again, something too close to worry squeezing down like a band around my chest.
Her skin burned, too hot even for an Archai. How high of a temperature was dangerous for a human?
“What’s your name?” I asked.
The female’s brows wrinkled. “K—” A frown. “Katherine.”
“Okay, Katherine, where do you hurt?”
She tugged on her arm, still frowning. “Why…?”
I set a hand on hers. “The restraints are for your protection. Just be still. Tell me what hurts.”
But her hand didn’t still. She tugged again, got nowhere, and began to struggle.
I gripped her wrist. “No, be still.”
Katherine hissed, the sound full of pain, frustration. “Don’t. Hurts.”
My griffin rumbled a protest.
Look, what the hell do you want me to do? I shot back.
When I set a hand on the bare skin of her back, the female reared as far away from me as she could. “No!”
A single word, but as soon as it left her mouth, a sting sliced along my cheekbone. I jerked back, more surprised than hurt, and touched the damaged skin. My fingers came away covered in blood.
“Damn it!” Any farther up and she could have taken out my eye. When her mouth opened again, I lunged, clamping her jaw shut with a hard grip. Katherine fought me, trying desperately to get away, power vibrating through her body, sparking in the air around her once more. When blood began to trickle from her eyes and nose, I cursed. Within minutes she was convulsing.
I couldn’t get it to stop. Blood never bothered me. Seeing it leaking from the female’s eyes and nose and even her mouth, though? Shit. I’d hoped she was progressing despite the fever, but something about her power surging was obviously wrong. I needed to get her healed, fast. Problem was, whatever was wrong was related to the triggering, and I had no idea what the fuck to do to fix it.
“There’s nothing you can do,” I muttered to myself. I needed a specialist in Archai females, and there was only one place to find that. All I could do was make Katherine as comfortable as possible.
Fat lot of good that did.
When the convulsions finally subsided, Katherine was unconscious. And I had come to a decision. Another quick cleanup job, then, using a fresh strip of cloth, I gagged her once more, arranged her as comfortably on the bed as I could, and went to dress. The time had come for phase two of my plan. I couldn’t wait any longer. I wouldn’t lose the female now that I had her in my grasp.