Page 10 of Griffin Undone
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.
ChapterFive
Arik
Ileft the lair without looking back. I told myself I didn’t need to, but both I and my animal knew I was lying. The tug to glance at the female, to grasp one final connection before I left was overwhelming. I refused to give in. I didn’t need anyone, especially not a woman. That was a weakness I’d given up centuries ago.
Mind barred shut against the seductive pull, I exited the lair into the early dawn alone.
The light crawled over my skin, revealing more than I wanted, but there was a limited window to catch the informant that had led me to Maddox’s camp. I needed information, but even more, I needed to feed. After the fight, the chase, the flight with the female, I had to top off just in case. I couldn’t be caught unprepared, and Richard was a guaranteed food source if nothing else.
Stalking into the twisted maze that was the metro center, I kept my eyes peeled for any signs of the enemy, but all I saw were humans. They shivered when I passed, and not because it was balls-freezing cold. They didn’t know what I was, why they feared me; they just did. Those who did know believed I was a vampire preying on the weak. I snorted at the idea, my breath a heavy white plume in the air. I was Archai, not vampire, but the fact that I had to feed only added to the mythology of the world, a mythology based solely on a single species’ existence: my species.
Shifters had evolved alongside humans since both their ancestors had crawled from the primordial sludge and developed appendages to grab and walk with. The Archai, fortunately, had been blessed with a larger genetic strand, allowing for both the psychic and physical talents my species enjoyed. We fed off blood like the vampires of myth, though not exclusively—a juicy double cheeseburger would make my mouth water and my stomach growl any day—but what truly set us apart were our shifter gifts. Most Archai males possessed a shifted form, and each form had become, over millennia, the basis of human legend.
For me, that form was a griffin—part lion, part eagle, with wings and flight and a strength that rivaled the strongest Archai. Others had different forms and different gifts: the phoenix, with their rejuvenating powers and the gift of flight; the werewolves like Maddox, with speed and cunning and uncanny hunting skills; mermen, able to breathe underwater and communicate telepathically from thousands of miles away; even “normals,” as they were called, Archai with no shifting form, the basis for the belief in Dracula. Even they, considered the least of the Archai due to their lack of a second form, were stronger and faster and more powerful than any human could ever hope to be. My race and humans lived a symbiotic reality, the Archai an unseen, largely unknown vein running just below the surface world of a species that could never understand our kind, our gifts, our purpose.
And, being practically immortal, the depths of our betrayals.
As I approached the corner of Welsh and Jackson Streets, the corner Richard usually hung out on, a small crowd of regulars hovered together around the stop sign. The mingled scent of chilled skin, old food, and fatigue permeated my nose even a block away. My particular human, however, was nowhere to be found. With the patience of long practice, I crouched in a shallow doorway and waited.
Finally, over an hour later, the human rounded the corner. He stopped at the small knot of men, hands fisted in his pockets, hearty greetings leaving his lips, but the way his eyes continually scanned the streets on both sides said something was up. When I started toward the corner, that shifty gaze landed on me. The immediate widening of Richard’s bloodshot eyes confirmed my guess even before the man took off, back the way he’d come.
Really, humans were stupid.
