Zia… Parking Area of Her Former Apartment Complex

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Time warped in an amalgamation of speed, slow motion, and stop-action as Zia tried to orient her mind to process what Jeremy had unleashed.

Considering the alien-invasion in progress, herding people into an enclosed square with only one entry-exit had been the height of stupidity. Zia observed the real-life horror show from a front row spot. Her mouth fell open as the sick epiphany revealed itself.

She’d been the pied piper used to lure her neighbors into one ultimate “safe” place—their home turf. Zia had been played to the hilt. She loved this community. Because of her, they’d become simple chattel in a sick-twisted ploy to corner her and feed the addictions of those god-forsaken Egolars.

Jeremy was evil-personified.

He’d waited until the sponsored prizes from Lucien were on the table and then used them as his damn bait. When the people had come out from the woodworks at a chance to win things they could only dream of affording, the trap was sprung.

She looked around at partially shifted Egolars and other unfamiliar entities as they began to harass and chase the people for sport.

“You fucking bastard.” The words had a foreign and distant feel to them as they forced their way out of her body.

He’d used innocent people and families as a way to gain leverage over her. No wonder he’d been so confident and smug earlier. To do this in an area of significance of her former home was far past sadistic, it was psychopathic and immoral.

The yet to be fully digested food she’d wolfed down not twenty minutes ago threatened to reemerge on the scene in projectile vomiting. Her heart ached as she saw throngs of innocent people crammed to capacity in the overcrowded area. Faces cast varying levels of expression as some tried to reason out what was going on.

This catastrophe was her fault. The parking lot had been the worst option to hold a gathering with the possibility of an ambush. Zia’s mind climbed back online at top speed.

This wasn’t her first alien rodeo, but for others, it was a baptism by alien invasion. Zia empathized as many people looked around in varying degrees and combinations of dazed confusion, shock, denial, and disbelief.

Clear and sunny weather had been a boon to the festivities of the cookout. Like a page from an alternate universe, the same weather now heralded the coming out party of this supernatural spectacle. There would be no way to deny what unfolded as anything but otherworldly, as the same bright sun and clear skies left no details to the imagination.

A small saving grace from this freak show escalating to monumental proportions was the absence of a sea of cell phones to record and broadcast the phenomenon. Too stunned, no one in Zia’s direct vicinity had pulled out a phone to capture this weird turn of events. Might a vengeful alien encounter be the cure for cell phone abuse?

Irony was a bitch. The same flat, unencumbered asphalt surface that provided easy access parking now offered easy access for alien assailants to pick of prey. Without even the normal industrial sized trash dumpsters that had been removed for the event, there was no place to hide, no sight that could be unseen, and no way for folks to remain blind to what unfolded.

Void of trees or even a shrub, the unobstructed openness of the parking area left nothing to the imagination.

Humans were not alone on this planet.

Realization of the direness of the situation began to dawn on some. As a chorus of terrorized screams from frenzied cookout attendees invaded the area, many found the ability to run for cover.

A human wave began to undulate before Zia as the crowd moved and swayed. Stronger individuals pressed their way to the edges of the lot in survivor-fueled escapes. Sounds of the metal of grills toppling to the ground, chair legs scraping against the ground in angry revolt, and contents of tables crashing mixed into part of the background of the hellacious events erupting.

Chaos had highjacked the reins of control from the communal joy of mere minutes before. Alien and supernatural beings walked and flew among the natives with disregard of the effects of their actions.

What they had on their hands was a cluster fuck of grand proportions.

Zia shook her head to snap out of the fog and engage with the situation as part of the solution. Memories of her mother sprang forward demanding attention. She looked around to see the woman wasn’t there.

“Mami, Mami where are you?”

The screech of tires a small distance behind her was the only answer she received as the SUV Greg drove came to a stop. Zia turned to see her mate had wedged their transportation into the improbable spot on the adjacent side street close to the main parking lot.

Rows of picnic tables stood between where she was and the vehicle. Zia noted the path through the tables would make a possible shortcut. Otherwise, she’d have to go out of the clogged entrance and then around to where the vehicle idled.

Greg’s voice slammed into her thoughts over the new commotion as she searched for her mother.

“Zia, get your mother to the car. Cut through the tables to get there now!”

That was easier said than done.

Zia eyed the obstacle course of strewn chairs, haphazardly placed tables, scurrying people and, oh yeah, more Alien-Dinosaur-birds. One of those ‘people’ turned in her direction and grimaced. Not a speck of white could be found in his eyes.

Her chest heaved with the effort used to meet her body’s demand for fresh oxygen. Synapses fired and hormones roller coastered through her body as Zia struggled to take in her surroundings logically. The grunt of effort and jerky movement from the nearby body forced her to deal with a big priority—survival. She turned in time to see the vacant stare that had locked on her.

He picked up one of the abandoned pesky plastic chairs that littered the ground and attempted to throw it at her only to find his arm stabbed through the tricky backing. The man, if he could still be called that, wrestled with the entanglement of plastic tables and their relentlessly durable accompanying chairs.

“And this is why we can’t have nice things.”

She amended her mental map of the American Ninja obstacle course layout to the car to include demons. Completely black eyes most definitely qualified as demons.

New rules. Zia wouldn’t make the mistake of running toward anyone until she could actually see the white of their eyes from a distance.

An avenging spring afternoon sun continued to beat down on the asphalt battlefield. The increased temperature fueled by fear became oppressive. With this much activity of closely packed bodies in swift motion, the Atlanta atmosphere known to be muggy disintegrated into a stew of fear, heat, and emotions.

How stupid she’d been not to see this coming continued to beat her over the head. More cries and suffering fed an already ripe and ready irresistible offering for the hungry Egolars to feast on.

Cloud shadows above moved faster than normal as she regained the sense of mind to pay attention to everything. Zia looked up to see what she already knew to be there—Egolars. She counted at least five circling at a close enough altitude to reap the harvest of the human emotions they were so addicted to. Without realizing it, Zia’s cookout had provided the perfect storm for an Egolar attack.

All they had to do was create frenzy and fear—check. Keep it in a contained space—check. Gain almost unfettered access to the fresh human emotions produced—check. And voila, a perfect Egolar fantasy experience emerged. Zia could almost smell the scent of addiction Greg had described as more of the creatures revealed their true identities. No wonder the sky hosted winged birds of prehistoric dimensions.

A whirl of air brushed against her back.

Zia turned in time to see Matt scoop up his mate, Wren, and raced to the car. She looked over a few feet away to see Leila disoriented and turning around in a circle.

Zia ran to grab her mother.

The woman’s trembling hands latched onto her arms. Zia winced in pain as fingernails began to scrape against her flesh in rapid clawing.

“Whoa, Mami, I’m here! I’ve got you.”

Her mother looked stunned and in a trance as she continued to try to scratch the skin off of Zia’s arms. The stupor of confusion that invaded Leila’s facial features gave Zia pause.

For the first time, age and frailty wore the woman down. Sure, Leila had aged wonderfully being blessed with near ageless beauty, but this moment stripped away the veneer to show how vulnerable her mother was.

Until now, Zia hadn’t allowed it to click that her mother wasn’t still in her youthful twenties or thirties. Hell, Zia would be thirty soon, and she didn’t feel as spry as she did only a few years ago. Then mercy prevailed as it hit home that Zia had been a whoops baby. Her mother had been in her late thirties when Zia was born.

Compassion and a cornerstone of patience established themselves within her being to deal with her mother and every other person out here. Memory convicted her as she remembered what seeing just one Egolar did to her when Patrick kidnapped her. Zia could only imagine the shock of seeing an army of them manifest out of the blue in clear daylight. The Leila she knew had retreated to leave this defensive shell of a person. Zia prayed she’d be able to get her mother back when she got her to safety.

Another loud crash in the distant urged her into action. There would be no rest for the weary for a while. Survival instincts kicked in as Zia turned and tried to pull the woman toward the vehicle.

Leila might as well be dead weight for her inability to move her feet in any type of normal coordination. Zia coaxed, begged, and shouted for the woman to snap out of her frozen and debilitating fear.

Leila remained uncooperative.

A child of no more than ten ran by screaming and breathing hard. Memory of the kid’s games in this area flooded her mind. There were children out here experiencing this traumatic scene. Zia had to help them.

Certainty of what needed to be done made her next actions clear. Get Leila in the car and then save the children.

She began to drag her mother by sheer force of will in the direction of the vehicle. If she had to put the woman over her back in a fireman’s carry to get her to safety and out of the way, that’s what would happen.

Her grunts and short screams of frustrated exhaustion helped to move them along. Zia managed to make it to within a few feet of the plastic chair desert when she heard it.

An intimidating thud of two heavy objects colliding close behind made the asphalt of the place where she stood tremor. She looked down in time to see the area begin to crack and split. Zia adjusted her grip on her mother and pushed the woman in the direction of the SUV as hard as she could.

She took another step when a speeding shadow moved above her in an arc to land in front of her and Leila. The shadow transformed into an inhuman creation of terrifying proportions.

If it made a growl or roar, her mind would have connected the sight as reality. Instead, the thing stared as if in pondered bewilderment.

Without that necessary fearsome sound clue of impending danger, her fear sensors didn’t engage. Surrealism encapsulated her comprehension. It was a small blessing. Otherwise, Zia would have been immobilized like her mother.

The older woman had completely shut down, the images of her surroundings too much to negotiate.

Zia grabbed her mother by the shoulder and took another step. She would look back on this moment in the future and dub it a moment of utter stupidity for her sheer disbelief at how she acted.

The humanoid creature rose to its full height. At around ten feet tall, and height and weight proportionate, it had to be able to crush her with a single pounding of its fist. Still, she wasn’t motivated to flee.

Maybe it hadn’t clicked yet that what she saw was a real danger? With all the inputs coming at her, Zia reasoned that her mind refused to try to comprehend the image before her. Instead, she operated in a detached automaton manner to deal with the situation.

“Move,” she said, even and in a normal voice.

The creature that landed between her and the vehicle was hideous. It looked to be a version of Egolar that was mutated and built for warfare. Unlike the one that she knew as Patrick, this one had twice the weight and size. Its ribcage heaved as it breathed. Vein covered muscles rippled over its form as the beast spread its large wings out to an impressive wingspan. It was an Egolar to the Nth degree. She dubbed it an Egolar Prime.

Zia stood her ground and focused on her mother who was in a violent descent into insanity. The woman screamed and cried in terror at the sight.

“Mami, I have you, please, focus on me, and breathe. Please, Mami, pay attention only to me.”

Leila fought her, too out of her mind to decipher friend from foe.

Zia pushed back the sounds of more startled screams that erupted in the crowd. Her worse nightmare was unfolding before her—that others would experience what she’d been through.

Some nightmare visions never gave you peace.

She looked over and past the creature in time to see her mate fighting a group of creatures by the car. He made quick work of breaking and dislocating necks, as one by one they fell.

Greg eyed her proximity to the big Egolar and leaped over the hood of the SUV to land behind the monster.

“Lucien, we’re under attack,” he yelled. “Zia, take cover.”

She finally bound her mother’s hands together enough to get the woman to be still. Out of her periphery, Quinn ran and used a vicious whip to drive back the other Egolar Prime that had been behind her. Zia could swear she heard the creature whimper in pain as Quinn let loose a quick succession of flicks of the whip in a speed faster than humanly possible. Damn, Quinn was good with her whip.

“Stay down or run bitch,” Quinn yelled, unleashed more lashes, and was off to tackle another one of the shifted beings closer to where Lucien fought.

Awareness of how unprepared she was to defend herself slapped Zia in the face. She had no skills, weapons, or powers. Yet, she was the first one strutting out and putting her Clan members in danger. Fighting whizzed around her as more inhuman creatures took to the skies.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught the female cop from earlier running to her patrol car with her hand pressed on a radio comm that was attached to her uniform top. If what she thought she knew about police protocol was correct, the woman called for backup.

“Oh shit! Y’all be on the lookout. Possible war Gargoyles have been spotted. I repeat, possible war Gargoyle sightings in the main area,” Hildy said over the comms. “I’m taking to the sky to try to keep the Egolars concentrated in this area.”

Zia glanced over to see the other police officer on the ground with his face down.

Defenseless in the middle of a melee to rival every riot and major group violence event she’d ever seen on TV, Zia tried to cover her mother’s body with her own. She fought to become as invisible as possible until Greg could reach her. She stole a quick look in the direction he’d been in to see that her mate fought at least six of those monster-sized Egolars with his bare hands.

Matt had made it to the SUV with a protesting Wren. He barked something and locked Wren inside the vehicle. Within the span of a breath, he rushed back out into the fray to intercept a new creature that was as tall as a two-story building.

The thing was beyond hideous with flesh that looked like dark mossy gray-green leathery skin. Its face rivaled the demon paper mâché masks of carnivals she’d watched on Nat. Geo. The mass of one of its arms put the trunk of a tree to shame. The shudder that rocketed through her body was the reaction appropriate for the occasion. This beast was created for carnage.

Matt took a running leap, landed on the thing’s back, and railed on the beast with a double-fisted attack to the back of its head.

Matt yelled toward Zia, “Get back, Zia! This is a war Gargoyle. I can’t ensure he won’t try to crush you.”

She stared in awe as Matt grabbed the Gargoyle’s horns from behind and pulled back to an impossible angle. The monster swung those tree-sized arms as it tried to dislodge him from its back.

This happened less than five feet away from her and her mother.

Air around them sparked with power from the force created from all the fighting. People had come out of their shock enough to start a stampede toward the only entry-exit—where Zia huddled over a limp Leila.

“Zia, you must get a move on. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Greg’s voice came through. “Please, my love, make it to the SUV.”

“Mami, please, get up” she begged with desperation previously unknown to her. “We must make it to the car. Can you move?”

Her mother remained frozen with her hands over her head.

“We’re on our way back over to you all,” Lucien yelled into the comm. “Hildy was right. There are war-level Gargoyles on the loose. Please, everyone, concentrate your efforts on taking them out first. They are killing innocents.”

“I’m working on one now,” Matt said through forced breaths of exertion. “Luc, bring the bag from your van with the close combat weapons. This fist fighting is getting old fast.”

“On it.”

Shit was real, and Zia had to get her mother to safety.

“Mami, please, try to stand for me. We aren’t safe here, please?” That time her mother seemed to hear her and stood. An awareness of her surroundings bloomed in Leila’s eyes as the woman looked at her and nodded.

The scream that erupted from behind Zia was thunderous and merciless.

“Where are my babies,” Tashia yelled, her voice amplified to inhuman levels. Her eyes looked crazed as she searched the tangled knot of people in search of her children.

Zia scanned the landscape to look as well. More creatures with wings, horns, tails and other hideous manifestations began to swipe indiscriminately at the crowd.

“Zia, please, we have to go,” Greg’s voice sounded in her head.

“Look alive everyone, we have Gargoyles on the scene,” Hildy said through the comms. “Those bastards are all about smash and grab.”

“We’re on it. Got four in our direct proximity. Oh, shit, this is Nolan, and I’ve got Blaise by my side.”

“This is Rylan, Kylan and I are concentrating on getting the natives out of here while you all take down the hostiles. Keep at it. We’re starting to make contact with the people to come in our direction…,” he paused. When his voice sounded again it was obvious he wasn’t speaking with the team. “Yes, you’re welcome. Run this way and don’t look back. Keep running until you reach the area down there where another guy who looks like me is waving you down.” He spoke to the team again. “I’m grabbing people close to the northeast area where the prizes are to put them on this side street. Kylan is down at the end close to where we had to park. He’s checking them out for injury and shock. Hildy, if you can, please, swing by and do a Siren’s call sweep on them for memory and emotional trauma.”

“This is Hildy, on my way now. Got to make it fast. Will swing back around as often as I can to get new folks taken care of.”

The voices, activity, and haze of fighting rushed in too fast for Zia to keep up.

Another wail-infused scream clashed against the pressure of the atmosphere to produce claps and booms of sound. Tashia’s screamed with unrelenting fervor.

What was happening?

Greg ran toward her as Matt, Ajax, and Lucien took up the fight of a new crop of huge Egolars. The winged monsters of Zia’s nightmares leaped and attempted to execute aerial attacks as the men of the Dragofin Clan defended the innocent people of the community.

One sliver of good was that Zia could see that the Dragofin Warriors were winning and all wore their masks.

To their detriment, some of the residents attempted to fight off what Hildy had identified as Gargoyles as the creatures toyed with them. She watched in horror as one of the abominations grabbed two young guys and crushed them with the power of large clenched fists.

This had to end.

“Run to the car,” Zia yelled and pushed her mother in the direction of the SUV with all her might.

Never had twenty feet looked so far away. They managed to get a few steps toward the vehicle when Zia saw Wren yelling from within to watch out.

She pushed her mother down and ducked in time to miss the cloud of powder that filled the air. With clenched eyes shut and holding her breath, Zia fished out the masks she’d stashed in her back pocket. Like the airplane instructions, she put on her’s first and prepared to help her mother put on the other. By the time she reached down to where she had expected her mother to be, one of those Egolar Prime had taken flight with a dusted and unconscious Leila Carter.

She searched to find where the Egolar had headed to make her way toward her mother. That’s when things got worse. What Zia knew to be more demons, came rushing toward her.

The group all had tattoo markings on their necks. In an instant, knowledge poured in that these tattoos where the channels the demons used to enter and control their hosts.

Disoriented for a moment, she ran farther away from the vehicle until her senses caught up enough to override the prevailing fear. She’d gone full circle. From fear frozen to flight, Zia had run through the instinctual reactions to the survival response.

Her thoughts were ordering themselves to make sense again. That meant she could handle the situation better. New bits of knowledge sparked to capture her thoughts.

That’s right.

The demons hadn’t been able to withstand Tashia’s screams either. She’d seen most of the human bodies were affected by the audio bombs Tashia unleashed in search of her children. The demons must be subject to their human hosts’ vulnerabilities when it came to Tashia’s inhuman power as well. Seemed as though the laws that bound humanity in this realm prevailed.

The old scripture bounded forward in easy recall:

Her mind was on hyperdrive for all the little tidbits of knowledge and information zooming in for use in the knick of time. Zia wouldn’t question or hate on it. Her current situation-ship with these demons had to end. Primal instinct to survive overrode another programming as Zia started running in the direction of the sound.

Tashia continued to scream as Zia located her across the lot. The woman used the bullhorn to project her curdling cry. Zia’s body ached as the sounds tore a ragged path through her insides. Still, she ran in a head-on direction.

A flash out of the corner of her eye instinctually pumped the breaks on Zia’s sprint. The little girl who had the cake earlier ran toward Zia in stark terror and confusion. Hot on her heels was a demon-possessed woman with eyes the color of black obsidian. Somehow this one still had the wherewithal to pursue in the wake of Tashia’s vocal slaughter.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Zia’s body took over as she ran toward the baby.

She managed to make it to the child right before the demon did. The little girl looked at her in fear until Zia pulled her mask down for the child to see her face. In an instant of understanding, Zia knew this was Tashia’s little girl. With the child held tightly to her chest, Zia stood down the monster.

“You will make a much better sacrifice. You are the one we search for anyway,” the horrid voice said through a woman who looked to be no more than in her early twenties. “Give me the child, and we’ll feast on her before taking you too.”

The protective force field known only to mothers snapped into place as Zia dare the demon to try her. “That’s going to be like never.”

“Zia, no, they’re encircling you. Run, and pull your mask back up!” Greg’s voice rang in her head.

She obeyed, pulling the mask into place, covering the child’s nose and mouth with one hand, and running as fast as she could. If she lived to see Hildy again, she would do whatever the Siren wanted her to do—jump ropes, burpees, stairs, whatever.

Holding the child, she sprinted toward the direction where she sensed Greg to be.

“My baby! Where’s my baby?” Tashia’s voice cut through the melee to reach Zia’s ears.

Her body vibrated with the vicious sonic blast the other woman produced. More people in the area began to fall to the ground with their hands over their ears from the agony. Tashia’s scream lasered through the particles to separate air from space. Her voice of pain became a weapon of debilitating destruction.

What was Tashia’s deal and how was she able to make eardrums bleed with that sound?

The inside of Zia’s body protested from soreness and being shaken from within by the sound of fury. She saw in time to brace herself as Tashia took in another breath and began to release another audible assault on the scene.

Determination to make Tashia’s voice of torture end and the little girls need to be reunited with her mother were the only things Zia clung to for fuel. She struggled to regain her balance as the new round of sound bore down to wreak havoc on her equilibrium.

Got to get to Tashia, was her thought loop.

The mantra was simple but effective enough. When she regained the ability to stand without stumbling, Zia mounted a new campaign to fight against the Tsunami of sonar waves the other woman produced. When she could see Tashia was less than twenty feet away in a straight line, Zia stopped to collect the remaining dregs of energy that hadn’t been sacrificed to defy the other woman’s elemental wail.

She focused and willed her voice to reach the travailing woman. “Over here, Tashia. I have her!” Zia managed to spit out as the last bit of air left her lungs.

The punctuated point the universe seemed to drive home wasn’t lost on Zia. Hildy had been right. She had the lung capacity and heart endurance of an elderly sloth in traction.

Tashia ran toward her with another baby in her arms.

Zia’s legs gave way as she collapsed. Greg made it to her and gathered her and the child up into his arms.

“Cover me,” he said to the other men as they fought the small army of muscular monstrosities.

“Wait, this is Tashia’s baby.” Zia looked down at the child with a runny nose who made occasional whimpers and cries in her confused state.

“There’s no time.”

“Please. She needs to be with her mother.” Zia looked down at the child to drive home her point.

Greg whirled around in a circle until the other woman came into view. To Zia’s amazement, Tashia covered the distance way faster than she ever could.

“Now it makes sense,” Greg observed as Tashia came close and reached for the child.

Zia offered up the little girl. Recognizing her mother, the child let out a loud scream and struggled to leap as fast as she could into Tashia’s arms.

Without a word, Tashia took the now wailing child from Zia’s arms. Before she took off toward the main street, her eyes locked with Zia’s.

The "thank you" she communicated was swift as Tashia pushed the meaning behind her scream to Zia. It was the primal cry of a mother for her child. A cry that Zia hadn’t realized until now that she’d screamed deep down inside long ago.

In her way, that thirteen-year-old version of Zia had travailed the loss of her baby, too. Despite the guilt, confusion, anger, and shame surrounding the circumstances, the subconscious memory of her silent scream had endured.

Zia sent a quick caress of love to the new life that grew within as she found new energy to fight the disorder that prevailed around them. A quick promise made to herself to unpack that revelation later, and Zia was ready to right another major wrong.

Greg took a moment to consider the retreating woman. “We were just honored to be in the presence of another iteration of Hathor.”

“Of who?” Zia didn’t recognize the name, nor did she have the brain calories left to search her mind for the answer.

“You know, like our Triplet, Tina?”

She had no clue what he spoke of. “No, what has Tina got to do with this?”

“Tina’s expression of Hathor is different but for the sake of time, just know that it’s a good thing.”

“But Tashia doesn’t like me.”

“She’s super protective and reacts to that which isn’t clear-cut. Your energy is complex. On a subconscious level, she must have picked up on your ability to walk between everything.”

Ka-pow! The unmistakable strike of Quinn’s whip slashed through the air somewhere close by as Greg covered Zia’s body with lightning fast speed.

Zia peeked through a space between their bodies to see Quinn whipping the shit out of a humongous creature. It fell to the ground with streaks of exposed flesh that ooze with blood and mangled tissue. The sight was grotesque but oddly satisfying for Zia to see.

“I’ve got it now,” Lucien said as he ran to his mate’s side. “Go help Hildy with the Egolars she’s got cornered by the passageway they used the other night.”

The woman nodded agreement but not before looking at the creature whose neck was now caught in a death grip by Lucien’s huge arm.

“So, which layer of Hell do you think you’re going to?” She asked, gloating with full abandon.

“Quinn, over to Hildy now or I take the whip and lock you in the van.”

“But, that’s not what we all agreed on. I’m not one of the pregnant mates.”

“That status can change very soon. Don’t press me. I’m doing what I can to deal with your being out in the field of battle. Mate—go.”

Her eyes grew large with a mix of desire and consternation as Quinn caught a secret meaning that only she and her mate understood. Without another word, the woman gave him a hungry wink as she turned and took off running. Zia marveled at her control of her weapon. Quinn cleared a path through the thick path of demons by flinging the tip of her whip like a sharp machete with quick precision.

Greg released the intensity of his grip on Zia and looked around. “Good, looks like the twins and Ajax have managed to get a large portion of the regular people out. Please, stay still until I see a break in the fighting.”

“The children, what about them?” She couldn’t see any from where they were, but Zia had to make sure the kids were safe.

“Looks like Tashia and others made sure to secure them first. She’s a protector of mothers and children.”

“What does that mean?”

Greg clenched her tighter as a demon jumped on his back. Without losing his grip on her, he used one hand, reached around and grabbed the drug-addled young man. Her mate brought the man around to face him.

Greg looked at the handsome face of a young black man in his early twenties. Even Zia could see the fear that seeped through to challenge the demon that rode him hard.

She felt the power of her mate rise in a new way as he spoke to the squirming man. “Stop it this instant.” The man complied. “You, true native and rightful inhabitant of this vessel are free from the ravages of this prison. Speak the words ‘I choose to be free’ and as a Guardian Warrior, I will offer strength for it to be done.”

As soon as Greg’s last word was uttered, the exhausted voice of the man broke the growls of the demon to say, “I choose freedom.” It might have been weak but strong enough for the man to look instantly relieved and different in a good way.

The young man scampered off at speed to rival an Olympic sprinter.

Greg’s voice boomed while he looked at a blank spot next to where the retreating man had been a second ago. “You vile trespasser. I cast you back to your realm, never to return. You are bound from all agreements, contracts, and summons from this instant. Be gone!”

To Zia’s understanding and senses, sulfurous smells and a gentle pop were the only signs that the invisible entity had departed this realm.

Greg stood to his full height and cradled Zia in his arms.

“As I was saying of Tashia, she’s a descendant of the Goddess known as Hathor. Hathor is one of the various aspects of how the Goddess is worshipped in this realm. All the creator, mother goddess deities are part of the Goddess we worship and follow. We were blessed by the Goddess she was here.”

Greg’s calm voice helped to keep her grounded while all hell broke loose around them. In his wisdom, Greg knew this story was what Zia needed to focus on to stay calm.

He continued to speak in his deep, calm voice. “Tashia’s mother’s travail helped to disorient the illegals enough for us to gain the upper hand when she tapped into her connection to Hathor. It was her pure love for her children that invoked that fearsome wail. It makes sense how it shook the atmosphere to its foundations. The destructive energy of her wail is the same exact opposite of the creative energy of her normal nurturing side. Tashia’s voice unprovoked is that soothing and pleasant sound we heard whenever she spoke. When her children were in danger, the order of things was out of sync. Hathor’s power prevailed until her wrong was righted. She’s a warrior in her own right. I have to let Tina know about her.” Then he said almost to himself, “I wonder if she knows what and who she is?”

At the mention of mother, Zia’s orientation returned to her previous priorities. “Greg, speaking of mothers, they have my mother!”

“I know. We’re trying to locate her. First, we have to get out of here.”

Zia saw Matt in the backseat with Wren by the time they were within spitting range of the car.

Greg crossed the last few feet to the vehicle.

Jeremy’s smug voice lashed out from behind them. Greg continued to scramble to open the door and deposit Zia in the front seat. As he turned, Zia saw Jeremy standing close enough for Greg to lunge and ensnare him.

As if he read her mind, Jeremy told them, “Uh-uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”