Kyn 3: Feral (11 page)

He rolled his neck again, adrenalin raced through his veins as the footsteps and that odd thrashing noise drew closer and closer, until it was just around the corner.

Then it was there. The huge bulk of ... something filling the turn in the path.

Something straight out of a nightmare.

“Holy...
crap,”
Feral breathed as he looked up, then looked up some more. It wasn't a creature. It was a damn mountain range!

A mountain range covered in gnarled, wart dotted skin. Skin ingrained with dirt and slime and stretched over a roughly man shaped frame. One that was hunched over like an old man. But it wasn't the strength of an old man that was flailing the massive club it held in its hand about nonchalantly.

“Great, just fucking great,” An Ogre. First it was bloody Pixies and now a damn Ogre!

Feral sighed and re-adjusted his blades again. This was going to really hurt...

“Come on then handsome, let’s dance.”

Tessa headed over to the rocks, ducking behind them as her heart pounded so loudly she thought it was going to burst out her chest. Spud, picking up on her fear, started to fret.

"Shush, shush... its fine. It's all going to be fine," she whispered as she rocked his tiny form in reassurance. She moved slightly, trying to peer over the rocks to see what was happening.

Feral just stood there, studying the blades on his hands so calmly she wanted to scream. He didn't look at all bothered. That had to be a good sign, right? Her eyes flowed down the lines of his large body, noting the tension there. He rolled his neck again, eyes riveted on the turn in the path. She knew as soon as the creature appeared, even though she couldn't see it herself from here. If Feral had been alert before, his attention was complete now, his body virtually humming with awareness.

She stifled a scream when the creature came into view. An Ogre! She'd seen sketches of them in books. The sort of books carefully concealed in the houses of Pixies that lived outside Barrows, or that masqueraded as children's storybooks, just in case a human should catch sight of them.

It wouldn't do if they ever found out that certain childhood tales were real. Sure some, like the Watchers and some Slayer groups knew the truth, but that was limited and carefully controlled. On average a single human was intelligent when confronted with the truth. It was humanity en-masse that was the problem. In a group they were fearful, intent on destroying anything they didn't understand.

Which wouldn't be a bad thing at the moment she decided, wincing as the creature spotted Feral and roared. It charged with a speed it shouldn't have had, not being that large and misshapen. Like someone had taken a play-dough man and mushed it about a bit, distorting the joints and limbs into a hideous parody of the human form.

But its face was perhaps the worst. Unlike Ogre's portrayed in films this creature wasn't the dumb, ambling, and ‘fairly easily beaten if you had a modicum of intelligence’

creature they were generally made out to be. No, its deep set eyes gleamed with a malevolence and intelligence that was marked, even from this distance.

Noticing the eyes though meant you had to tear your attention away from the teeth crammed into its mouth. Razor sharp and packed in like sardines, they glinted in the half-light as it roared. Tessa caught her breath as it bore down on Feral, imagining the damage those teeth would do if it got hold of him.

The Ogre swung the massive club at Feral, going for a full body blow. There wasn't anything else you could call it, given the size of the thing it wasn't a weapon designed for pinpoint accuracy. Or any sort of accuracy.

Feral ducked, sliding under the incoming blow and to the side with a feline grace. His fists flashed as he moved, blades glittered in the half light as he landed a solid blow on the Ogre. It bellowed again, swiping a heavily taloned hand at the Vampire that danced around it.

The fight was fast and furious and despite how quick Feral was, it was quickly apparent to Tessa that the few blows the creature was managing to land were taking their toll.

But each time Feral was knocked to the ground, he bounced back up again, shaking his head and bringing his fists back into the fight.

Tessa winced with each blow. Closing her eyes was no better, she could still hear the sickening thud as flesh pounded into flesh. The heavy thumps as Feral hit the ground each time. She bit her lip, forced herself to watch as the Kyn Warrior tried everything to bring down the Ogre. He moved like lightening, a fearsome sight... she could see him on the streets, kicking ass and taking names. But here and now, he was out of his depth and struggling.

Tears filled her eyes as he got swiped to the ground again, grunting in pain. Each time it was taking him longer and longer to get up. He couldn't keep this up. Frustration and hopelessness filled Tessa. He couldn't beat the Ogre, and when it was done with him, it would come after her and the baby.

She should run, get out of here now and hope like hell she could outrun it, even though she knew that was unlikely. Despite the misshapen form Ogres were fast over ground, and could change direction on a dime. And her firefly trick?
That
wasn't going to work on a creature formed from the Witching.

She should run, but she couldn't move. She couldn't leave him here like this, leave him here to die alone in the Night Plains. She knew what Ogres were, they were well known as flesh eaters and she couldn't bear to think of the man she loved desecrated that way.

Whoa, loved?
Where had
that
come from? She barely even knew him! She couldn't be in love with him... could she? She winced as he hit the floor again. She had to do something...

he was getting killed out there.

Fear for him running through her veins Tessa released the straps holding Spud's sling.

Quickly she placed him in a small hollow in the rock, a place he was almost hidden from view and protected from the flying debris being kicked up from the Ogre's club. His thin wail plucked at her heart strings but she hardened herself to it. If she didn't do something now, that Ogre would kill Feral and guess what would be next on its menu?

She crept out from behind the rocks, leaned down to pick up the sturdiest stick she could see lying on the ground. Her heart pounded. She had no clue what she was doing. If Feral, a seasoned fighter, couldn't get the drop on this thing then what hope did she have? The worst thing she ever fought was the month end reports at work!

But regardless of that, she couldn't leave him to face this on his own. Perhaps she could distract it or something? Allow Feral to get the advantage and finish it off.

Determination glittered in her eyes as she edged forward, looking for a gap in the fight she could get into without getting in Feral's way. Or in the path of those blades he was wielding so viciously.

There! Spotting the perfect gap Tessa shot forwards, jamming the stick in her hand upwards into the soft flesh under the Ogre’s throat as it was busy fending off Feral’s attack. It roared in pain, black ichor splattering over Tessa’s hand and arm as it twisted violently, swiping out at her. She watched the vicious talons sweep towards her in slow motion, fascinated by the blood caked claws as they headed for her unprotected stomach. Fear froze the blood in her veins and her feet in place as she watched her own death sweep towards her.

Feral came out of nowhere, hitting her mid-stomach in a classic rugby tackle that had them both sprawling on the ground. The Ogre’s claws sailed harmlessly overhead. They both scrambled to their feet, Feral shoved Tessa behind his body as they readied themselves for the next attack.

It was an attack that never came. The thunder of hooves surrounded them as suddenly the small path was crowded with horses. And, more importantly from Feral and Tessa’s point of view, those horses came full equipped with some heavily armed knights.

The whistle of arrows cut through the air, followed by sickening thuds as the buried themselves in the Ogre’s flesh. It screamed, a mingled sound of pain and fury as it swatted at the arrows that made it resemble a grotesque hedgehog. Screams that were silenced when one of the knights took aim with a heavy crossbow, death in his eyes. The arrow sprouted from the Ogre’s left eye. It blinked slowly with the other. Once, twice. Then it slowly toppled backwards.

Feral looked around at the group of mounted knights surrounding them. “Well. At least it isn’t Pixies again.”

The Fae Court was like, well something out of a fairy tale. Feral found himself wide eyed at the splendour as the little group were herded along the corridors towards the hall of the Lady their rescuing knights served.

Tessa noticed his amazement as he stared around, silently astounded at the beauty of the place and doing his best to hide it. Anyone would think he was some kind of country bumpkin the way he was going on, not a veteran warrior of the Kyn Court who'd attended more court functions and balls than most humans had had hot dinners.

“It's mainly all glamour,” She whispered as they were ushered into a hall to wait. “The court itself is a sort of Fae. A proto-Fae I think they call it, what we would have been before we became us so to speak,” she murmured, speaking of herself as Fae for the first time to him. “It's alive,” she carried on. “Changes its look when it pleases, which can be a little disconcerting.”

“You ain't kidding,” He murmured back, his hand dropping to the small of her back as they walked through the door, a protective gesture he didn't register consciously. She'd been so brave against the Ogre, even if he did want to berate her soundly for putting herself in danger like that. His heart had almost stopped when she shot in front of him with that stick, attacking the creature like some sort if Pixie Amazon.

The knights retreated; a silent bunch if ever Feral had seen one, leaving just the two stationed either side of the huge doors. Feral eyed them with sympathy. He'd stood guard often enough to know it was as boring as hell. Their set positions and bored expressions told him that this wasn't their first time standing by that door and, undoubtedly, it wouldn't be their last.

“You shouldn't have attacked that Ogre,” He turned his attention back to Tessa.

Settled on one of the low couches that lined the long walls she was holding Spud up underneath his armpits so he could stand in her lap. Which he was loving, bouncing enthusiastically and grinning at everything. Feral grinned back, unable to resist such whole hearted enthusiasm and held out his finger for the baby to grasp.

Tessa shrugged, busying herself with amusing the baby. Feral hooked his finger under her chin and turned her face so he could look into her eyes.

“You could have been hurt Tessa, even killed,” His bad-ass attitude slipped a little under his concern. “I was terrified I'd lose you...”

Now that was love, or at least what it was supposed to look like. Talven swept in through the double doors the other side of the hall, pausing a little as he took in the scene before him. The guy, the Vampire Warrior, was crouched, all his attention on the woman, a half breed Pixie. Talven had already noticed she was pretty, not his usual sort but there was just something... vital about her. But it was the protective set of the Vampire's body, the gentleness of his touch as he made her look at him that caught Talven's attention.

A pang of longing speared him, lanced through his heart with a bitterness that surprised him. That was how it should be between a man and a woman, the sort of relationship he wanted and a mate who looked at him as though he was everything. Not the barely concealed contempt and ridicule he currently got from the woman fate had cursed him to be bonded to.

“The Princess will see you now,” he announced as he strode over, his hand holding the sword still on his thigh. Ilia didn't like the clinch and chink of armour, or weaponry. Said it gave her a headache.
Bloody stupid woman, what did she expect when she insisted on her
knights being battle ready all the time?

Feral rose and turned in an economy and speed of movement that had Talven mentally taking stock. When he got these three into Ilia's chambers the shit was going to hit the fan and in a big way. He counted on having enough knights to take down this guy but looking at him now... the Vampire was
big.
Big and with that manner, a look in his eyes that said 'Wanna mess with me? Just try it buddy, it'll be the last thing you'll do'.

He hid his concern well, years of practise serving Ilia. He needed more man-power.

Seriously needed more man-power. He knew what Ilia intended to do... well, no, he had a good
idea
what she intended to do.

She thought he was stupid, called him that in front of him on many occasions. But he watched, he listened. He'd have to be an idiot not to have figured it out by now. And when this Vampire did, there was going to be all kinds of hell to pay, mostly violent and all over the place. Because he seriously doubted either one of them, the Pixie or the Vamp were going to be happy about his Princess taking blood from a baby. It turned even his stomach.

Grimly he stopped thinking about it, locking parts of his mind off from what was happening. His own coping mechanism. The trouble was, it was getting harder and harder to do and each time he felt sick. Like a little piece of his soul died each time.

Disgusted with himself, he swept his arm wide in a courtly gesture towards the door.

“If you’ll just follow me?” he invited and forced himself to smile.

Feral held his hand out to Tessa, to help her to her feet.

“Come on Tess, we wouldn’t want to keep the nice Captain’s boss waiting, would we?” he said as he studied the tall Fae Knight directly. Feral rarely did circumspect; it just wasn’t in his nature. He found a direct look was far easier, and it tended to rattle people more easily. Which shouldn’t have been too much of a surprise. Most people got a little edgy when glared at by over two hundred pounds of mean attitude, sort of like the Kyn equivalent of a Pitt-Bull.

He was probably imagining it but, just for a moment there he thought he’d seen a flicker of something in the Fae Knight’s eyes. Something that looked an awful lot like regret and perhaps sorrow. Maybe even disgust.
But why? What did a Fae Knight have to be
disgusted about?