Eden's Creatures (14 page)

“Eduard. The clothier. I asked him to make them earlier.”

“Very smart, human,” Leeah admitted with a smile.

A smile. Cal noticed the Faedin were doing that more and more, but before he could think too much on it, Bannon gave the signal.

“Novices! Go!”

Without further discussion, the three Faedin took off in a powerful, graceful run. Cal quickly tied his quiver around his waist and plunged into the woods after them, wishing he had brought a flashlight. By the time he hit the main trail, they had all disappeared.

He took the same trail on the left that he had taken last time, but instead of searching the ground for tracks, he looked for a tree to sit in. It was as much for the height advantage as for his concern that all the noise made by the Faedin drums had spooked the Fallen from their hiding places. If he was lucky, one would stumble below him.

And then what? his conscience pricked at him.

I’ll do what I have to do.

Kill?

Yes.

What other choice did he have if he wanted the Faedin to accept him?

He shoved away his annoying thoughts and found a tree with low branches. The ease with which he pulled himself up into the limbs surprised him. Out of curiosity, he unzipped his coat and looked down. The faint marker stain couldn’t hide the rippling muscle across his stomach. He hissed in surprise and ran a hand across his newly defined chest and the biceps that bulged with strength. It made him wonder just how much bigger he would get. By the length of his sweatpants, he judged himself to be close to six feet now — six inches taller than before he ate the Faedin meat!

He shuddered, scooted in close to the trunk of the tree and removed an arrow from the quiver. As he nocked it to the string, he cocked an ear outward. All he heard were the normal ambient sounds of the forest — the buzzing insects, the rustle of small animals moving through the leaves, and the staccato taps of a woodpecker. If any of the other novices had found their prey, there was no sign of it that Cal could hear.

Down below his perch, a black squirrel scurried out onto the path and Cal had to stifle a chuckle at the creature’s antics as it searched for food.

Then, a strange scent drifted to him on the breeze. A smell that reminded him of rotten eggs. A smell that had no business existing in this forest.

He nervously searched the area and saw nothing. But what he heard sent the hair on the back of his neck straight up.

A soft, pitiful sniffling that came from right behind him. Up here in the tree with him.

Slowly, he turned to look.

A tiny girl peered at him from another branch behind the trunk. A silver-haired girl who, when Cal last saw her, had been full of life. Who had shouted at him from the arena stands to be brave. And who had the most beautiful, pale blue eyes.

Not any more.

Now, they were milky white.

“Rebeka?”

The girl lifted a hand to wipe the tears from her reddened cheeks and then scooted to his branch with unnaturally fast, jerky movements.

Cal had to fight back his own tears at the horror she had become.

Rebeka held her arms out to him as though asking him to hold her.

He shook his head and inched back. “I… I can’t.”

She started to whimper and continued to reach for him.

“Who did this to you?”

“My sire.” The cries turned to a growl as she leapt at him, her mouth opened hideously wide, fanged teeth reaching for his neck.

Cal yelped and fell backwards off the limb, tumbling through the air. Rebeka reached for him, and her little fist seized a handful of his hair, ripping it out by the roots.

He hit the ground with a grunt, but managed to hold on to his bow and arrow. From flat on his back, he swung it up with shaking hands.

Rebeka just sat there, watching him as though willing him to do it. To send her to the Wonder.

Cal licked his lips and brought the bowstring to his cheek, centering the arrow point directly over her heart.

Do it. Let loose.

Time stretched. Sweat dripped into his eyes, and it became harder to keep his aim.

She wants you to do it. Just do it!

His muscles quivered with the tension.

Run
, he silently urged her.
Just run.

But she didn’t.

And he couldn’t.

The old Cal surfaced. He lowered the bow and he ran.

Stassi sprinted along the trail, the changes in her body allowing her to move quickly and effortlessly across the terrain. Adrenaline coursed through her. Her heart raced. She had dreamed of this day — her first raid — since she had been a little girl. Becoming a warrior. Living to fight the Fallen. Living to die.

Her steps slowed.

Living to die.

Why did that beloved thought suddenly strike fear into her?

Cal, of course.

As much as she craved the Wonder, she wanted more time with him. Time to explore new feelings. He had changed so much about her life and her thinking since he had arrived. Was it selfish to want more? To learn more? The Faedin would say yes.

Overwhelming fear for his safety suddenly consumed her, drenching her in sweat. Guilt raked at her mind. Without a moment’s regard for Cal’s thoughts on the matter, she had pushed and prodded, demanding that he become a warrior. But his inexperience would almost assuredly get him killed tonight without a skilled Faedin by his side. All his talk about fighting in groups now made more sense. She looked back over her shoulder in despair.
Should I go to him?

She never had a chance to answer that question.

An arm came out of nowhere and slammed down hard across the back of her neck, sending her crashing to the ground and the bow flying from her hand.

She rolled over and looked up in shock at the female Fallen standing over her. Her sire had been right! The Fallen were no longer in hiding, but launching outright attacks!

Stassi didn’t recognize her assailant which meant the former Faedin had been a Fallen for many years. And she looked it. Her hair was a pile of disheveled knots. Her cheeks sunken in and twisted with grief. Heart-wrenching sobs poured from her mouth, but whatever innate remorse she still held inside, it didn’t stop the foot that stomped down toward Stassi’s face.

Stassi twisted to the side just in time, but the Fallen fell on top of her before she could scramble away and began to pummel the back of her head and ribs.

Stassi knew she had to get her legs under her for leverage — the first rule of escape taught to every Faedin child. With that thought in mind, she pushed the pain of the strikes away and inched her knees up to her chest. In a quick powerful move, she flipped onto her back and kicked with all of the growing strength in her legs.

The Fallen flew through the air with a loud shriek and thumped to the ground.

Stassi lurched to her feet and turned to run, but she slammed up against a hard body and stumbled back.

A male Fallen.

This one she recognized.

His name had been Markis and he had been one of their best warriors before falling. He yanked her around and wrapped his arms around her, pinning her tight to him.

“You know me, Markis!” she screamed. “Please! Let me go! You were Faedin once!”

Markis rocked his head from side to side in a dim-witted howl and squeezed tighter.

She would get nowhere with him.

Instead, she stretched her fingers down toward the quiver on her hip. The cries in her ears grew louder, the arms tighter. She caught the fletching of one of the arrows, slid it up into the palm of her hand, and slammed it backwards into the Fallen’s eye.

Markis didn’t even have time to scream before crumpling to the ground, dead.

Before Stassi could take her next breath, the female Fallen rushed forward once again, tackling her to the ground. The woman tossed her over onto her back as though she weighed next to nothing and encircled her throat in an iron grip.

In a panic, Stassi lifted her head upward and rammed it into the woman’s forehead, splitting it open with a large gash. A spray of hot blood splattered Stassi’s face, but otherwise it seemed to have no effect on the Fallen who continued to choke her.

The woman bent her mouth to Stassi’s neck.

No! One bite and she would fall! Cursed with evil and forbidden from the Wonder for all time!

Stassi struggled with all of her strength, drumming her heels against the ground, but the Fallen continued to worry at her neck like a dog with a bone. Her chest exploded with burning pain. White spots appeared in her vision as her lungs strained for that one life-saving breath.

I’m dying.

Stassi’s legs and arms stilled. The moans and groans of her attacker, so loud only a moment ago, began to fade.

I will never see Cal again. Never know what it is like to be loved.

Her limbs felt like lead weights and she couldn’t move them no matter how hard she tried.

The Fallen continued to gnaw on her neck with disgusting, slurping noises.

And then, a new sound.

The whisper of a released bowstring.

The Fallen heard it, too, and sat up.

An arrow slammed into the woman’s forehead with brutal impact. A single line of blood trickled from the injury as the mortally wounded body swayed on top of Stassi.

“Are you all right?”

Stassi sucked greedily, desperately pulling air through her bruised throat into her lungs.

Cal dropped down next to her and pushed the Fallen off. His hands roamed her body, checking for the answer himself.

“No,” she coughed out. “I… I have been bitten. Leave me. It is too late.”

Cal smiled down at her. “No, it’s not, silly. You’re wearing a leather strap, remember?”

“What?” And then it came back to her. She lifted her arms and her fingers clawed at what was left of the strip that had saved her life. Relief flooded through her.

“Can you walk?”

She sat up, fighting back a wave of dizziness. “You have to stop saving Faedin,” she told Cal, wishing no such thing.

“Not going to happen,” he said and kissed the tip of her nose.

“If it is my time, it is my time.” The words sounded hollow and illogical even to her own ears.

He pulled her to her feet and brushed the hair from her face with both hands. “I just found you, so I’m not about to lose you.”

“The Wonder—”

“Can have you when I’m done, and I don’t see that happening for another hundred years.”

“Cal…”

“You act like you don’t have a choice. Life is about choices, Stassi.”

“Yes, but—”

“You picked me,” he said and bent to pull his arrow from the Fallen’s forehead. He had to put his foot on the woman’s face to get it out and it came free with a nauseating
plop
. “Get used to it.”

She looked down at the two corpses. “They attacked me, Cal. That isn’t supposed to happen.”

“We’d better get back and tell the others.”

Without thought, she threw her arms around his neck, all the emotion she normally held back flooding out of her. “I was so afraid for you. I wasn’t sure if you could do it, Cal.”

He pressed her head into his chest. “Me either. But seeing you in danger made the decision easy.”

She swayed on her feet, but this time from overwhelming joy. She lifted her face to his. “Do you know what this means? We have our two kills! We’re Faedin warriors now, Cal!”

He nodded, but didn’t seem nearly as excited as she was. He simply grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

He pulled her along the trail and she stumbled behind on wobbly legs. Her sense of direction was off. She had no idea where they were or where they were going.

Cal stopped cold.

The night sky, bright with a full moon, illuminated the shadow that stepped into the open in a sinister, bluish cast.

“Dear Maker,” whispered Stassi.

The tall figure with long gray hair and tattered clothes stalked toward them at a frightening pace. She had heard the description many times. It could be no other.

“Who is it?”

“Zakiel.”