Page 8 of Griffin Undone
“Secure the flank,” the shifter lugging Maddox barked. The remaining males formed a gauntlet preventing my advance as the soldier retreated, the Anigma leader in his arms. By the time the last male’s head slid off his shoulders, my prize had disappeared.
Scanning the empty alley, my chest heaved with the effort not to release my anger. My griffin roared instead, deep inside, claws raking, gut twisting, but nothing could bring back my enemy. Not right now.
Then a thread of sound whispered toward me out of the darkness.
The female Maddox had targeted lay, unconscious, slumped on the ground. The shadows of the buildings rising on each side cast a veil over her face, yet now, just as in the bar, something about her drew me, tempted me, pulled me closer until I squatted a few feet away.
I realized my head was shaking. I still couldn’t believe it, what she was, but the proof lay right in front of me. A female. AnArchaifemale. And she’d just had her psychic doors blown open by a male’s first bite.
Her body twitched and jerked, tiny moans of pain escaping those full lips as uncontrolled power continued to blast the air around her. That power intrigued me. Triggering had been common among the Archai before the Great War, but the ritual was nothing like what Maddox had done tonight. It had been controlled, sacred, private. A female was prepared beforehand, then taken through the emergence of her power by the Aomai, the Archai’s sacred healer. I had never heard of a female killing anyone during the process, but then, they hadn’t been under attack.
Either this female’s power had mixed with some serious pissed-off to retaliate, or…she was something I’d never seen before. Maybe something no shifter had ever seen before.
Gradually the blasts quieted, as did the female’s cries. Driven by a need to touch her, a need I didn’t truly understand, I made a final, cautious approach. For a long moment all I could do was stare down at her. When my fingers skated over the dirt-smeared skin of one pale cheek, the female didn’t respond.
My body did, though.
What the hell was I doing? I should be securing her, not fantasizing about the feel of her skin in other, even softer places.She can take your head from your shoulders, remember?
She hadn’t killed anyone after that second attack, but I wasn’t taking any chances. One of the pockets of my fatigues held zip ties, which I used around her wrists and ankles. A strip of cloth torn from the bottom of my black shirt was used to gag her, the material tied in a secure knot behind her head. If I was careful not to entangle her hair, I ignored the fact and gathered her into my arms.
Bitterness dug deep with my final glance around the ash-littered alley. My plan hadn’t been to kill Maddox tonight—my plans for the shifter, and for our former clan, would hurt far worse than a quick slice of the spine. I’d waited centuries for the right moment, for the right pieces to fall into place to execute my revenge. Still, being this close had tempted me to forget all that and just go for a kill. For a while, I had forgotten. Now…
I looked down at the slender figure slumped in my arms. Maddox hadn’t wanted her left behind. He’d stalked the female for a reason, and he’d risked his own death to take her with him. Not to mention there were other parties that would be interested. After all, I needed an entrée to the clan, didn’t I?
As I stretched my wings in preparation for flight, I sucked in a smug breath. If my guess was right, this female could be the ultimate weapon, the linchpin I needed to pull my plan together. And thanks to her attack on Maddox, she’d just fallen right into my hands.
ChapterFour
Arik
Ilanded in the alley outside the lair I’d established under cover of darkness, folding my wings on the run. The female groaned as I shifted her to my shoulder, psych energy continuing to pulse around her, skin like a furnace despite the fact that we were both damn near frozen from the long minutes in flight. Either the triggering had fried her brain or she had a helluva lot of power floating around in her head that she couldn’t control—and that made her even more valuable. She was an asset, a tool I could use for my own end.
If I could keep her alive.
The area might look like shit, but the security system protecting my lair was as advanced as it got. After securing the entrance behind me, I followed a set of stairs down to another door. This one led to a small suite of rooms. Inside, I didn’t bother with a light, just crossed the outer room quickly to a second room with a bed in the corner of the otherwise bare, pitch-black space, dropped the female onto it, and returned to secure the main door, this time with a series of deadbolts and chains that would’ve had Houdini thinking twice. Through it all, my “guest” never moved.
Once we were protected, I returned to the cot to stare down at her in the darkness. My animal form gave me sight better than even the sister birds related to my griffin, enabling me to see both during light and dark over three times better than humans. I didn’t need light to see the dark streaks and blotches of dried blood on her body, her clothes, the creamy skin of her shoulders and the swell of her breasts almost, but not quite, concealed beneath the silky material of her shirt. As I bent closer, a trail of freckles stood out against their pale background, whispering to me to follow, to pull the shirt Maddox had torn just a little bit farther and find out where they led.
Right to the savage wound on her neck. Where else was she injured? The way she’d been tossed around, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was more. I should find out, right?
The griffin purred beneath my skin, pleased at the idea of seeing her naked.
More than one reason does exist to get her out of her clothes, dipshit.
I turned my back and marched into the bathroom, ignoring the unhappy growl of my animal rumbling behind my sternum. This proprietary shit would drive me nuts if it went on much longer. I needed to stick to business: first, clean myself up, then her. I stripped, tossed my bloodstained clothes and weapons on the floor to deal with later, then flipped on the shower, stepping in without waiting for the water to warm.
The wet slide chilled my skin as I hurriedly sluiced it over my body. Blood and sweat and dirty ashes circled the drain. I closed my eyes against the memories the sight evoked, only to have the images superimpose themselves on the backs of my eyelids—blood spatter on the walls, ashes littering the floor of my parents’ home. Taking out the majority of Maddox’s team had been the perfect opening salvo, proving to my enemy that I was no longer the unprepared victim. I’d learned to win the hard way, under Maddox’s thumb.
Even now, thinking about those horrendous years, anger wound my gut up tight. The first five centuries after my parents’ murders, Maddox had spent tracking me, finding me, only to torture me and anyone close to me before disappearing once more. It had been a game, and Maddox reveled in it, destroying my life over and over, only to let me believe I was safe once again. But I had finally escaped the game, escaped Maddox. I’d gathered power, knowledge. I’d planned, and now I was close, so close to my revenge that I could taste it. Maddox was about to pay, and the little female in the other room would make an interesting addition to my plans.
I threw on a pair of fatigues and returned to the bedroom. Lying on the mattress, the female looked small, almost childlike except for those firm breasts and the rounded hips that proclaimed her an adult. Softer emotions had died within me centuries ago—maybe if they hadn’t, seeing her like this might tug at me, draw some empathy. Empathy had been burned from my soul. I could use her, not care what happened to her. Keeping her alive was a necessity, yet even at this distance I could see the sheen of sweat coating her face, the feverish pink tone of her skin as she twisted restlessly, seeking relief.
When I forced myself to the edge of the cot, my heart skipped a beat. Dark black circles shadowed eyes sunken into her skull. The flush of fever across her cheekbones only highlighted the stark white pallor of her skin. In the hollow at the base of her throat, a pulse beat, fast, hard, and uneven. I reached out to lay the back of my hand against her forehead, studiously ignoring the silken brush of her hair as I pushed it away, and swallowed grimly at the searing heat that met my touch. She was beautiful, no doubt about it—and sinking fast.
Why did the picture she made as she lay there, completely without defenses, open to me in a way neither human nor Archai had been for centuries, make my mouth go dry and my heart take up a hard, thumping rhythm?
“Focus, asshole.” If the fever got much higher—and depending on the amount of electrical activity rioting in her brain right now, it would—she’d go into convulsions. I had to get it down if I could.
