Eden's Creatures (12 page)

One against one.

The distance closed in a heartbeat and Gilad was there. With a reckless howl born of terror and rage, Cal threw himself in a clumsy lunge at the warrior, and… the world went dark. It felt like he had hit a brick wall. The impact rattled the teeth in his head, and he reeled back in a daze. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision, he swung his arms blindly through the air, hoping to connect, but came up empty. He opened his eyes to find a blurry Gilad standing before him.

“Is that the best you have,
Rupa
?”

Cal growled and drove his fist into Gilad’s stomach, hoping to bend the warrior over just enough to give Cal a shot at the back of his head.

Gilad didn’t move a muscle, but Cal grunted and cursed as he shook out his bruised hand.

A soft twittering could be heard from the stands and it took a moment for Cal to realize that it was stilted chuckles.

The distraction cost him.

His face exploded in pain as Gilad backhanded him. He staggered to the side, but managed to keep his feet under him. Gilad followed, delivering two heavy blows to Cal’s nose and mouth. A river of blood flooded from his face, and he swiped it away with the back of his hand.

Gilad raised his fist again, but Cal anticipated him this time and spun, the back of his heel connecting with the side of Gilad’s head.

The warrior pulled up in shock, surprised — as much as Cal — that he had actually been hit. Before Gilad could recover fully, Cal ripped off his coat and threw it over his larger opponent’s head. He grabbed the sleeves and squeezed them tight around Gilad’s head, spinning him in a circle. The Faedin’s arms flailed as he was whipped around and around.

The stilted chuckles turned into outright laughs. The spectators rose to their feet, shouting something, but Cal wasn’t quite sure what. All he cared about was that he was about to win. Victory was his. He could taste it. His heart soared. With one last Herculean effort, he yanked with every ounce of strength he had left in him to pull the Faedin off his feet.

It didn’t work.

Gilad wrestled out of the coat and snarled as he jumped into the air. He swept in close, clutched Cal at the shoulders and lifted him. Only this time, there was no coat to protect him and Gilad’s talons sunk deep into Cal’s flesh.

He screamed in agony. “Gilad! Let go!”

Unfortunately, the warrior did just that. From about thirty feet.

The sky above spun wildly as Cal fell, and he tried desperately to get his legs under him. The ground had other ideas and came up to meet him faster than should have been possible. He crashed back to earth with bone-jarring force.

Cal lay there in pain and exhaustion, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the ground beneath him.

I failed Stassi.

A flap of wings disturbed the dirt around him and Gilad landed next to him. “You are a fool! Despite all your tricks, I have something you do not. I can fly. That makes me a formidable foe.”

Cal lifted his head and opened one eye. “I have something you don’t, Gilad. I want to live. That makes me even more formidable.”

Gilad’s jaw clenched tight, but he stomped away without another word.

Cal wasn’t sure how long he remained there, but it had been several minutes. The Faedin were filing out of the arena. He felt Stassi’s presence long before she said anything and when she finally spoke, it wasn’t what he expected.

“You did well, Cal.”

“Well?” he snorted. “I lost!”

“No, you won.”

“Really? How did I win, Stassi?”

“You achieved something I have never seen in my lifetime.”

“Which is?”

“You gave the Faedin laughter.”

Cal stripped his pants off and walked down the steps of the grotto into the hot pool. He cupped a handful of water and splashed it over his face to clean the dried blood away. Stassi sat at the edge to dip her legs.

“The Faedin are talking about you.”

“I’m glad my inept fighting can entertain them,” he said, sinking low to soothe his tired muscles.

“You see it as that. They do not.”

“No?”

“They saw someone outmatched, but brave enough to continue. A man of ingenuity and guile.” She paused. “They see what I see.”

Her praise filled him, energized his body in a way that the heated water never could.

“Tell me, Cal, if you could change anything about your old life, what would it be?”

The vapor enveloped him, instilling a sense of comfort and safety around him. Enough so that he wanted to be honest. “It’s always been the same thing. At every bedtime prayer, every penny fountain, every blown-out candle. I always wanted my mother to be, well… a mother.”

“She must care for you.”

“No, she doesn’t. She puts her own needs above her children.”

“Perhaps she faces battles you know nothing about.”

The comment gave Cal pause. Yes, Evie Taylor did have her own battles, but he refused to allow them to excuse her behavior.

“What else?” she prompted.

“And I would want my…” He almost said
real
father, but stopped himself. There was nothing real about the man who gave him life. He had died in a motorcycle accident when Cal was just an infant, so Cal had never known him. Never received advice from him or tossed a baseball back and forth. They never went fishing or hunting. No, there was nothing
real
there. There wasn’t… anything. Not even a ghost of remembrance. He supposed he owed the man some sort of debt to keep his memory alive, but it was hard to do that for someone who wasn’t real. “Nothing. There’s nothing else.”

Stassi slipped into the pool. “I have seen your scars, Cal. I have heard your cries. You have been broken by people in your life that you trusted. People that were bigger and stronger than you. But you have grown. I do not see that boy any more. I see a man. A survivor. Someone strong and kind. Someone the Faedin could learn from.”

Cal staggered to his feet and stared at her. The things she said… did she really believe them?

She held her hand out toward him. “Come, Cal. It is time.”

“For what?” he croaked out past the emotion building inside his throat.

“To show you the reason for the Faedin way.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the Tree That Will Not Die.”

T
he enormous tree rose out of the forest like a misshapen giant. Twisted limbs curled in grotesque shapes poised to snatch unsuspecting victims off their feet. A ring of black, scarred earth radiated out from the base of the tree in a circle of death. Boiling, fetid smells rose from its surface.

The moonlight silhouetted the two Faedin creeping silently along the perimeter of evil.

“Is that it?” the younger asked with a shudder.

“Yes, child. It is the Tree That Will Not Die.”

“Let us go, Sire. I do not wish to be near this place.”

“Quiet,” the older Faedin hushed. “Listen carefully. What do you hear?”

The youngster obediently tilted an ear toward the tree. “Nothing.”

“I hear it. Gai’tan stirs.”

“What? We must tell the others!”

The young Faedin made to run off, but was stopped by a firm hand. “No.”

“No?”

“It is the time of the serpent, young one. We must give him what he wants.”

Blue eyes grew as large as saucers. “A human?”

“Yes.”

“Stassi’s mate?”

“No. That human is compromised by Faedin magic. We need another.”

“But Gai’tan is the enemy! We cannot give him what he wants. He will destroy the world!”

“Only the world as we know it. Who is to say the world that is remade will not be better?”

The tiny body began to tremble. “I am afraid!”

“Do not be afraid. This is what you must do.” He bent down close to explain exactly what he wanted.

“No! It is not the Faedin way!”

“You must. You are the only one I trust.”

The youngster began to cry. “I cannot, Sire.”

“You can and you will. Be brave.”

“But how will I—”

“You must fall,” he admitted sadly, and faster than the eye could track, he grabbed the child and swung with all of his might. A high-pitched scream rent the silent air as the small body sailed forward and landed in the middle of the pit.

The child hit hard, but immediately tried to scramble away. “No! Sire! Please, help me!”

The ground stirred in response to its ensnared prey, churning into a roiling sea of black. Putrid bubbles rose into the air. Long, shadowed fingers slithered from the earth and clawed at the Faedin.

“Noooo!”

“Remember what you must do!”

Ghostly hands slid over tiny shoulders and wrapped the child’s throat in a black noose, dragging the Faedin down. Down. Forever down.

“Noooo!”

“Be brave!”

“No—”

The screams were abruptly cut off as the youngster disappeared into the bowels of the serpent’s lair.

The older Faedin watched with a sigh of regret, unaware of the tall figure that approached from the trees behind him.

“You have done well, my friend.”

The Faedin flinched at the deep, raspy voice of the Fallen behind him. “I’m no friend of yours, Zakiel.”

“Gai’tan is pleased.”

“He better be. I was quite fond of that child.” The Faedin turned, letting his gaze roam over the legendary Fallen. At the ragged clothes hanging limply on a shrunken frame, the unkempt white hair and the abhorrent white eyes. His nose wrinkled at the smell of sulfur. “I still do not understand why you could not turn the child yourself, Zakiel.”

“Trust me,” he said with a long swipe of his tongue over a thin lip, “there is little I enjoy more than Faedin blood.”

The Faedin crouched. “Keep your fangs in your mouth, Fallen!”

Zakiel giggled, a crazed and demented sound. “As I said, I would have enjoyed the blood of your child, but my bite would have compromised her understanding. She needs to retain her wits for what she must do and Gai’tan will see to it.”

“I suppose.”

“The time is near, Faedin. Be ready.”

“How near?”

“Much sooner than you are prepared for.”

“Did you hear a scream?” Stassi asked Cal as they ran through the woods.

“No, but my hearing isn’t as good as yours. Yet,” he added with a wink.

“Keep alert and stay behind me.”

He grunted. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m bigger than you now.”

“A tree is bigger than me. I am still smarter.”

“Oh, I’m a tree now?”

She laughed and it felt good — to just let go and allow her body its natural response to enjoyment. She never imagined how freeing it could be. She also never thought she would see the day that a Faedin expressed such an emotion. It felt like she was standing on the precipice of change. A new Faedin. One she instinctively realized Cal would help shape somehow. There had to be a reason he had found his way here. Of that much she was certain.

He continued to grin as he ran alongside her through the trees at a steady trot. Although Cal’s physical changes were more pronounced, hers were there as well. Even without her full wings, she felt she could hold her own against the warriors now, and had already proven that fact in her fight with Bannon. The look on the warrior’s face when she defeated him was one she would not soon forget.