Page 15 of Memories Like Fangs
I reached out, desperate for her and her touch?—
My fingertips managed to brush hers?—
I could feel the ghost of warmth from her?—
I wanted to tell her so much?—
But then, I was yanked backward into the forest behind me and swallowed by the darkness of the trees.
PART TWO
Carnelian
THE SUNSET, SINGER, AND ARTIST STONE
A Chalcedony stone with a vitreous luster colored in fiery hues of burnt orange, pale pink, and reddish brown.
Like a sunset, the Carnelian stirs your soul, always ready to cleanse the day away and reignite your strength with the promise of something new and fresh. The name comes from the Latin word meaning “flesh,” guiding us to make the most of the present. Throughout history, the stone has played many roles, from encouraging passion in the bedroom to granting courage in battle to symbolizing status in society to preventing sickness. Carnelian breathes life back into those who are lagging. It ensures that your confidence and personal power have the space to soar. The warm autumnal hues remind us to let go of the seasons that don’t serve us, to store warmth and lightwithin the body, and to travel forth. As a strong healing crystal, Carnelian heals the body, mind, and soul in one swoop. It is a glorious gemstone for those waiting for a creative kick, looking to reconnect with their inner child, or seeking to bathe in the light of the endless summer. This red-orange stone resonates strong, passionate energy and self-confidence, but not in a way that leaves you at a loss or spinning out of control. Committing Carnelian into your life will allow you to overcome negative preconceptions. Instead of basking in uncertainty, silence, and fear, you can learn to let go, laugh loudly, and live in willpower and warmth so you no longer shut yourself out in the cold.
Trigger Pull
QUINN
The scream that tore from my throat would have made a banshee’s holler seem like a fucking whisper.
“BYRD, NO!”
I pulled my pants legs up and retrieved my daggers from their holsters that I kept strapped to my calves. Tina and Amy were my obsidian daggers that I always kept with me at all times. Their long black blades shimmered like a diamond, casting a prism of rainbows in the light. The handles of my knives were always warm as if someone had been holding them, ever since my Grandma Jane had given them to me. When I was little, I believed that it was because her spirit was always with me through the blades, like she was fighting alongside me and protecting me. I loved the power in that. Now, they felt hotter than ever before, and I gripped them tightly in reassurance.
In the next half a second, I was blurring into the trees after Byrd.
It had only been an instant since I had seen her get taken, so it was easy to catch up to her with my speed. She was so close, so within reach. With my supernatural senses, I could see the fresh tears streaking down her cheeks from her pain. Byrd’s wings flared out from under her clothes, fluttering hard to try andslow the momentum of the harpoon pulling her away from me incredibly fast. My smart girlfriend tried a number of different ways to slow herself down: wrapping her tail around tree trunks or roots, clawing at passing boulders, and dragging her heels against the snowy terrain. Still, it was all to no avail. Clarkson, my specially-bred hunting companion, was close on my heels, chasing after her alongside me. Her blood dripped from the wound and the harpoon’s dart that had made it. It flew past me, splattering onto trees and bushes or landing on the white snow below.
As fast as I ran after Byrdie, the world seemed to slow at the sight of her blood. The droplets shimmered with an opalescent, holographic sheen that looked just like Byrd’s scales, but there were small flakes of gold there, too. Dragon blood always had golden shimmers, but Byrd’s was so beautiful, the best and prettiest dragon’s blood I had ever seen.
Yet, I shouldn’t be seeing it.
As a huntress, especially a dragon-hunting one, I knew all too well how valuable dragon’s blood was. I had seen quite a few vials of dragon blood as part of my training. My family also played a huge part in moving the supply through the market. It was so highly sought after that you could be made wealthy with just a vial of it. Allegedly, it was powerful enough to cure diseases, conquer your enemies, or even make a wish, depending on what rumor you listened to. But, seeing my girl’s blood wasn’t right. Her being whole was the most beautiful thing I could ever imagine. Healthy. Happy. Perfect. I would prefer to see that any day of the week.
My Byrd was hurt.
And, I had to do everything in my power to save her.
I knew a hunter’s weapon when I saw one. Even without its magical aura, I knew the craftsmanship. Hunters’ weapons were distinct in their attention to detail since they were all handmade.No two weapons were the same, but they were all built with precision in mind. This harpoon was no different, with a dart sharp enough to make air bleed. The multiple layers of barbs were built to go in easily but never come out to reel prey in. I couldn’t see it, but I knew there was a titanium and steel cable attached to a gun pulling Byrd along on the other side. Still, there was something about this harpoon, about the swirl of magic around it. It had the usual rainbow aura of hunter’s magic, but there was a pulse around Byrd’s blood. As it vibrated ever so slightly, the blood seemed to vanish.
It was like…
It was absorbing it?
“Q-Quinn, help me…please…” Byrd coughed, her voice strangled. Blood trickled from the corner of Byrd’s mouth and tinted her lips a harsh red. There was so much agony in her brown eyes that I stopped breathing for a moment. I would never forget that look. It would live forever in my memory, my worst nightmare replaying like a sick movie.
The worst part, what made me feel like someone was gripping my heart too tightly and pulling it out of my chest, was just how close I was to her. When I blurred like this, I never felt it. I felt the environment, like how the chilled, dry Montana air bit at my face now. But, it always felt like I had just walked a few steps. I never broke a sweat or felt it in my body at all. But, now? I was going at my fastest supernatural speed that I had ever gone. My knees pumped high and close to my chest. I stretched my legs as far ahead of me as they could go to cover as much ground as possible. I blurred quick enough to make my legs burn and ache. For the first time ever, I pushed myself so far that I could feel soreness building in my muscles.
Even still, I remained just out of reach of my girl.
I was still a few inches away.
I roared so deeply and loudly that my throat became raw. I had to fucking do something. I had to stop whatever was pulling Byrd back like this. I reared my arm back and threw my dagger Amy where I thought the other side of the harpoon was. Through the crunching of my feet in the snow, Clarkson’s barking, and Byrd’s gasping wet breaths, my ears picked up Amy hitting her mark, going straight through skin, muscle, and bone. Someone took a sharp intake of breath, but I heard the training in them that stopped them from crying out or groaning.
