Unleashing the Storm (20 page)

The
man turned, smiled, pointed as he casually moved out of the way and the bullet
hit the tree behind him. Ender saw him mouth,
Go get him,
to the excedo
even as the gun ripped out of Ender’s hand.

Ender
didn’t bother pulling his second. Guns weren’t going to work until he got rid
of the telekinetic, which meant snapping his neck.

“We’re
on,” he said, because, hell, might as well start talking to the animals too.
But before he could take a step out of his hiding place, he was slammed quickly
and efficiently to the ground.

The
bear growled, low and controlled, rose on its hind legs and allowed enough
distraction for Ender to get his shit together and regroup. The bear lunged and
he heard a yell as excedo and animal rolled over each other in a fight to the
death.

Had
to leave me with the hard one,
he
thought, seconds before he found himself flying through the air. He remembered
what Wyatt taught him in that workshop Dev made him sit through last
year—something about partitioning and not being able to use too many powers at
once without draining one or both. But there was something else, something
about the speed of light, and in order to beat the telekinetic’s mind and
penetrate his force field, Ender would have to do something completely foreign
to him.

He’d
have to slow down.

He
honed in, using his beyond-normal eyesight to keep watch on the man’s face so
he could detect when he was going to fling his powers. He’d give something
away, no doubt—a slight rise of the eyebrow, a push of the lip, a crinkle of
the nose. Everyone gave something away.

“Jesus,
get him off me.” He heard the excedo’s bloodcurdling scream and the telekinetic
smiled, no intention of trying to save his supposed partner. Ender shifted his
attention to the massacre for a second, in time to see an arm hanging out of
the bear’s mouth, and shit, steroids were no match for nature.

“It
doesn’t matter—she can send all the animal friends she wants to help, but we’ve
already got her,” the man said.

Focus,
Ender. Fucking focus. He’s got to be lying.
But the guy’s face gave away nothing, an impenetrable mask of hatred
even as Ender’s gut began to ache.

“She
was calling your name as we took her away,” the man continued, and Ender stayed
crouched on all fours, not attempting to move. “I wonder how long she’s going
to last before she begs one of the men to fuck her? From the research I’ve
seen, she’ll die without it.”

How
long had he been separated from Kira? It had to have been an hour, at least,
and she’d been in need at that point. An hour later, she’d be climbing the
walls. Two and beyond—he didn’t want to think about that. Thinking about that
had been what got him into this situation in the first place.

“You
could actually be quite useful to us, if you care to join.”

“No
thanks. I’ve seen how you treat your agents,” he answered finally.

“Him?
He needed to be put down. I was just waiting for an excuse. I’d been hoping
you’d put him out of his misery, but this is actually far more fun,” the man
said.

“Where
did you take Kira?” he asked, and Jesus Christ, the bear turned to look at him
and he knew, dammit, knew for sure that Kira was safe. This was crazy. He was
going bat-shit crazy, and he was getting back to civilization as soon as possible.

Then
again, he’d been surrounded by animals all of his life, some fiercer than
others, but all primal, just the same.

“I’d
tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. Then again, I plan to do that anyway,
because you don’t seem the cooperative type,” the man said.

Come
closer, you bastard. Give me one more shot.

He
knew it was coming, saw the subtle twitch in the guy’s left eyelid, so when he
was slammed onto his back again he was able to land easier.

The
guy held a gun in one hand, a knife in the other, and when Ender tested his
theory about moving slow, his arm felt like it was being pulled through
molasses. It served the purpose of giving the man false hope, and now Ender
knew for sure his plan would work. It also earned him a deep slash across his
biceps that was going to hurt like a mother while it healed.

“Now
you die,” the man said. And Ender was not going to mind proving him wrong.

When
the guy leaned in to him, gun drawn for the kill, Ender put his hands around
the man’s throat. Normal human speed, but for him, it was nearly painful to
move at that pace. His muscles didn’t understand it, his ligaments screamed for
speed and the guy’s eyes widened in surprise as Ender snapped his neck.

Of
course, Ender got a surprise of his own as the last of the guy’s telekinetic
energy flung him easily over the precipice and down into the dense woodlands
below.

KIRA’S
EVERY INSTINCT HAD TOLD HER to go with Tom, partly because she didn’t want to
lose track of him, not when she needed sex so desperately, and partly because
she wanted to help. In the end, though, she knew he was right, and reluctantly
she’d followed the coyote into the woods. She’d nearly jumped out of her skin
when the bear they’d encountered earlier emerged from some brush behind her.
Apparently, he’d followed, his curiosity piqued once the initial shock of
running into them had worn off. It had been easy enough to convince him to
watch after Tom. The price had been two candy bars from her backpack and the
suggestion that the men Tom had gone after might have more.

When
neither man nor beast had returned an hour later, she considered going after
them. But no, if Tom came back and she wasn’t here, it might already be too
late for her.

She
paced some more. And when, two hours after Tom had gone, the pain began, she
knew she had no choice. She had to find him.

She
had to find anyone.

Nausea
swirled in her stomach as she stumbled in the direction Tom had gone. Her legs
grew more shaky with every step. Even her vision had started to blur. She
careened off a couple of trees and lost her balance, hit the forest floor in a
tangle of brush.

“Tom!”

Crows
erupted from the trees around her, and she wished she could speak with Aves
more than she could. She tried to push to her feet, but her legs gave out. No
problem. She’d crawl. Thorns and pine needles dug into her palms, and cramps
seized every muscle. Oh, God, she hadn’t been this sick in years.

She
shuddered, tasted bile. “Tom,” she croaked, because her throat had gone dry and
scratchy, and merely breathing had become agonizing.

Every
foot forward became a struggle, and finally she could no longer crawl.
Trembling, she curled up against a tree and sent out feelers to any nearby
animals.
Please,
she begged.
I need help.

A
chipmunk skittered toward her from beneath a fallen tree. He chattered, scolded
her, then flicked his tail and watched her with suspicion. Closing her eyes,
she sent the little guy a picture of Tom, sent him Tom’s scent. Sent a lot of
images the poor thing didn’t need to see, but her mind was swirling with panic
and pain, and delirium had turned her into a quivering blob of hormones.

A
hawk screeched overhead, and the chipmunk scampered away. She had no idea if
the tiny rodent would be able to find Tom, or if it would even try. And if it
did find him, would Tom know to pay attention?

Belly
cramps doubled her up, and her skin, so hot it had to be burning the foliage
beneath her, prickled with unbearable stabs of needlelike pain. Her bones felt
like they were rubbing together, splintering.

“Hurry,
Tom,” she gasped. “Mate or die.”

THURSDAY
7 P.M. MST

Ender
shifted back into consciousness like a switch turned abruptly on. The sunlight
was nearly gone and he stared into the dark mass of trees high above him and
wondered how Dev could stand waking up to total blackness.

He
ignored the pounding in his head and concentrated on flexing the muscles in his
legs first. He couldn’t tell if his toes were really curling or if that was
just wishful thinking, because he’d fallen a hell of a long way. He finally
resorted to pinching his thighs, and when he was sure he felt that, along with
the throb in his arm that reminded him of the knife wound, he sighed with
relief. Slowly, he moved his neck from side to side, and as full consciousness
settled over him he became aware of the rocks he was lying on. They dug into
his spine and he was never so grateful for any feeling in his life.

A
movement to his left startled him because he was sure those two Itor agents
were long dead. And if there were more, he needed his body to be ready.
Immediately.

Just
as the shadow came closer, he jumped to his feet in one fluid motion,
adrenaline rushing through his muscles and throbbing through his veins, and he
came face-to-face with the bear who’d killed the enemy for him. And it did not
look happy.

It
roared in his face and he roared back, more from surprise than anything else.
The bear wasn’t backing down, and just when he’d prepared to use his newly
rediscovered skills to get out of the way fast, he realized what the bear was
doing.

It
wasn’t pissed—it was protecting him—again. Because the blood from his own wound
had brought out the scavengers, and he heard the low-timbred growls from behind
him. He turned his head to see more than one wolf, teeth bared and growling
into the night, and shit, Ender was no match for this.

Thankfully,
the bear didn’t seem to want his help. Ender backed away and began his climb up
the cliff. Once he had sure footing, he started to move. Blood dripped down his
biceps, but he ignored it. Because, like Kira, his body was screaming for sex.
He’d been gone nearly four hours.

He
yanked himself back over the ledge, and once on firm footing, he took off.
Seven miles and fifteen minutes later, he was back within range of where he’d
left her, and discovered that either she or that damned coyote had wiped the
trail clean. Excellent thinking, except for the fact that she might be dying
and he didn’t have time to waste tracking her.

When
he felt the tug at his boot and looked down to see the chipmunk there, looking
up at him expectantly, he didn’t bother to groan out loud the way he wanted to.
Instead, he actually said, “
Hurry,
” out loud, and the thing scurried
away, leading him through the underbrush and to the deserted cabin that kept
Kira safe and sound.

Well,
safe, but she appeared to be far from sound, lying on the floor. She was wet
and dirty, and it looked like she’d been out searching for him when she
collapsed and had been dragged back here by some of her friends.

He
was on his knees next to her within seconds, everything else forgotten but her.
“Kira. Shit, Kira honey, can you hear me?”

Her
head moved to the side and a low moan escaped her lips. A thin sheen of sweat
covered her body and the pulse at the base of her throat was thready against
his two fingers.

He
roughly pulled her cammy pants off even as he released his cock, which seemed
to spring to life at just the thought of her, and he spread her legs.

“Kira,
I’m here. I’m going to help you,” he murmured as he slid inside her and got an almost
immediate response, her legs reflexively banding his waist to lock him down.

“Tommy,
please hurry. Hurry,” she panted, and sometimes having superspeed really did
have its advantages. He came within seconds of pumping his hips, and when he
spilled inside of her, she groaned, her eyes opened and her breathing eased.

He
touched her neck again and she moaned softly at the contact. Her pulse was
stronger, but still weaker than he would’ve liked. She needed more of him, and
he needed to clean them both up, plus suture his wound or risk a major
infection.

He
gathered her carefully in his arms and walked her outside and toward the sounds
of water he’d heard earlier. The wide, smooth stream was sheltered from the
breeze by a mountain of rocks on one side and by trees on the other. He dropped
his bag at the edge of the stream, toed his boots off, with her in his arms,
and continued on.

He’d
gotten blood on both of them, and he walked, him still basically fully clothed
and her wearing just the shirt he’d given her, into the cool water. That began
to revive her even more, and she actually smiled up at him.

“Hey,”
she whispered.

“Hey
yourself,” he said.

“I
thought—” she started, and he put a finger to her lips.

“I’m
here now.”

She
nodded, her eyes still slightly unfocused. “Did you get the men who were
following us?”

“Taken
care of. Thanks for sending in the furry backup,” he said.

“Is
Cheveyo okay?” she asked.

“You
named the bear?”

“He
already had a name,” she said, and he shook his head.

“He
seemed to be doing fine when I left him.”

“Good.”
She nuzzled his neck and he realized his own pulse was racing—part fear, part
adrenaline. He was too attached.