Page 4 of Alien Devil's Wrath
“Just so you know,” I said as we started walking, “when that venom hits your nervous system and you collapse, I’m absolutely going to say I told you so. I’m Bronwen, by the way.”
His glare suggested he was already reconsidering our deal. “Zarek. Move.”
I just smiled wider.
ZAREK
We’d been walking for an hour when she finally stopped humming that irritating tune.
“You keep checking behind us,” she said, scrambling up a boulder with annoying ease. “The Stalkers won’t follow. Not into Gravewing territory.”
My voice was a low growl. “I don’t trust it.” The fragments in my shoulder ground against muscle with each step.
“You don’t trust anything.” She perched on top of the rock, silhouetted against the pale sky. “Your whole body is one big knot of tension. Must be exhausting.”
I ignored her and kept walking. The tracker showed thirty-eight kilometers remaining. Through canyon systems that grew more hostile with each step.
“Oh look, you’re bleeding again.” She dropped down beside me, matching my pace without effort. “The shoulder wound reopened. That’s what happens when you leave barbed fragments inside.”
“It will heal.”
“Sure, after the venom stops your heart.” She pulled something from her pack. A crude map drawn on preservedhide. “We need to adjust our route. There’s a Merrith patrol that sweeps through the next canyon every six hours.”
“Merrith?” I’d fought them before. Small, quick, technically minded. Easy to break.
“The warden uses them for reconnaissance. They’re good at getting into tight spaces, and they die quietly when things go wrong.” She traced a finger along the map. “We go this way instead. Adds two kilometers but avoids the patrol route.”
The new path led through a narrow ravine that forced me to turn sideways, the rock scraping against my pack. Rock walls rose on either side, blocking most of the light. Made for an ambush.
She moved ahead, completely at ease in the confined space. Every few meters she’d pause, listening to something I couldn’t hear, then continue.
“Stop.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper.
I froze. She pressed herself against the rock wall, gesturing for me to do the same.
A shadow passed overhead. Then another. The sound of massive wings cutting through air made the stones around us vibrate.
“Gravewings,” she breathed, her face bright with interest rather than fear. “They’re hunting. Probably found your crash site.”
We stayed pressed against the stone until the shadows passed. When she started moving again, I noticed her breathing had quickened. Not from fear. From excitement.
“You enjoy this.” It wasn’t a question.
She glanced back, dark eyes sparkling. “Of course I do. Five years of the same boring patterns, then you fall from the sky like a gift. A real Vinduthi warrior who needs my help.” She laughed, the sound echoing off the narrow walls. “This is the most fun I’ve had since I tried to kill that Lyrikan.”
“Tried?”
Her expression darkened for just a moment. “He had better security than expected. But I learned so much from the attempt. Next time will be different.”
We emerged from the ravine onto a plateau of cracked stone. The wasteland stretched before us, harsh and unforgiving. In the distance, heat shimmer rose from black rock.
The throbbing in my shoulder had spread down my arm. The edges of my vision blurred for a moment before sharpening again. Whatever was in those spines was working through my system faster than my healing could counter it. My left hand had developed a tremor I couldn’t quite control.
She noticed, because of course she did.
“Your fine motor control will degrade over the next few hours.” She tilted her head, studying me like I was a particularly interesting specimen. “I could help, but you seem determined to tough it out.”
“You slow me down, I throw you over my shoulder and carry you.”
