Chapter 16

 

Seething, nerve-jangling agony roused Dejo from the blissful blackness of unconsciousness.

He knew this feeling too well. The pain of a high-set stunner blast was nowhere near as bad as the knowledge that he was on his own again. He’d been in tough spots before and known he had to get himself out by himself, but somehow it was worse this time knowing he'd thrown away the partnership that could have saved him.

Resigned to his fate, he reluctantly opened his eyes to see how much longer his fate was going to be exactly.

The emptiness of the IDA compound with its odd mix of local Earther materials and extraterrestrial design greeted him. Judging by the wave emitter dominating the middle of the room and rising straight up to the ceiling to pierce the roof, he was being held in the compound’s central tower from whence the IDA powered the repulsors that stymied Earther radar, infrared, cellular, and other technology. The emitter issued a low, pulsing hum—still active—but other than that, only the low-level emergency lighting gave any life to the lonely hall.

He assumed he would soon no longer be contributing to the liveliness of the place.

As the numbness in his limbs eased slightly, he tested the bonds holding him. His arms were lashed tightly to the sides from his elbows to his wrists by encircling sheets of plasilk, and his shins from knee to ankle were similarly immobilized. The strong, silky material would actually be quite comfortable if not for the fact it was probably his funeral shroud.

Ah well, no use getting upset about it. Since leaving Enion, he’d escaped more times than he’d been caught, but he always known the end would come eventually. Even stars died.

He let out a slow breath.

Then, with an explosive burst, he clenched every muscle against the hold of the plasilk. “Larf it.”

His bonds were unimpressed with his new will to survive. With a disgruntled huff, he fell back, staring up at the ceiling. This was not how he planned his last moments to go. He always thought a burst of brilliant plasma fire would be his last moment. Instead, he now had this opportunity to contemplate all his mistakes. And the one that pained him most, more than the jangling after-tingle of the stunner, was not telling Vaughn what he felt. All the data points have been there for him to connect, like a chart of stars guiding him to the one truth at the center of all he knew: The mating wind had swept him away, carried him straight to her, and now she was the storm that kept him aloft.

The statistics from the Intergalactic Dating Agency’s data trove that still shadowed his brain told him how rare and precious she was. All his life he’d fought to escape his fate. Now he would do anything to fulfill it.

Of course the plasilk cared nothing for his fate or his love.

Neither, obviously, did Giles. The gnatha stalked into the room, tapping at an older-model port-link. Dejo curled his lip, glad he’d at least stolen the larfer’s good tech.

“Going to shoot me again?” he sneered.

Giles didn’t even look up from whatever message it was sending. “Now we’re even since you shot first.” It finally glanced up to peer at him through dead, silvery eyes. “Unless you rather I shot the girl, since technically she’s the one who shot me.”

Snarling, Dejo threw himself against his bonds but managed only to rock himself helplessly along the flooring. “Don’t you touch her!”

Giles waited a moment until he came to rest then nodded. “Thought as much. Anyway, it was your weapon. I don’t rightly understand the fixation on Earth girls, but it’s a big universe so I guess there’s something for everyone. Between working for IDA security and dealing the rejects under the table to Blackworm, I reckon I like ‘em well enough too.”

Dejo glowered. “You contracted with the IDA and then cheated them?”

Giles snorted. “You stole from them too. Don’t think I didn’t notice the data core has been emptied.”

“I didn’t work for them,” Dejo shot back.

“Well, I don’t anymore either, since they closed the resort.”

“Your fault,” Dejo said through gritted teeth, flexing his muscles again. “The IDA’s permit to operate here was revoked due to Blackworm’s abductions.”

Giles shrugged. “The girls wanted to give themselves away to aliens. I just took a cut for myself.”

“You didn’t have that right.”

“Like you didn’t have any claim to the data you stole.”

“Data no one else wanted,” Dejo countered.

“Girls no one else wanted. They had nothing here on Earth. Even the IDA couldn’t find a match. I”—Giles slapped its shoulder—“found them a place.” It shrugged. “With Blackworm.” When Dejo took a breath for his next rejoinder, Giles kicked his boot. “Quit yapping. Ain’t going to change a thing, and I just heard back from my next buyer.” It grinned at him widely, the sudden stretch of its mouth showing an alarming number of small teeth in the back. “Perhaps you’ve heard of them.” It leaned closer, mouth gaping. “The Enion harpies.”

Dejo froze except for the alarmed prickle of his protofeathers. “They wouldn’t come this far, not just for me.”

Giles pffted through its extra teeth. “Don’t sell yourself short.” It chuckled. “Well, you won’t, cuz I’m setting the price. But I think you’d be tickled by how much they want you.”

“Want to imprison me,” Dejo muttered. His feathers flexed again, helplessly.

“They did seem put out that you’re the only one to ever escape.” Giles gave him a respectful nod. “Well, the only one until you disabled all the holding cells and freed all the other cloud-whores.” It chuckled. “They ain’t gonna go easy on you, boy, but I expect you’ve learned some tricks since then. Got a side wager going on how long they’ll hold onto you this time.”

“Not long enough for you to collect all the bets,” Dejo said.

“No need to get testy. All my money’s on you.” It glowered at him. “Don’t disappoint me. I’d hate to have to use the Earther girl to motivate you.” It shook its head. “That one, more trouble than she’s worth. I like the nice quiet brides.”

Dejo lashed his head side to side, feathers flaring. Maybe a thief should prefer to go quiet and unnoticed, but he wanted only his storm cloud Vaughn.

“The hivre ship is in route,” Giles continued. “They won’t pay me without proof of life, so don’t make me stun you so hard again.”

“Sorry to be such a larfing pest,” Dejo said through gritted teeth.

“I’ll earn it back in your hide and hair.” Giles peered at him. “Or feathers, as the case may be.” A faint warning chime pinged from the emitter, and Giles consulted its device again. After a moment, it grunted. “You shouldn’t ought to have disabled the resort’s security, Jinn. Took me forever to get it running again, and it still ain’t right. Any larfing Earther could walk right up and start screaming about aliens.” It glanced up at him. “Maybe you could take a look at it before you leave.”

Dejo boggled at it disbelievingly. “Really?”

Giles shrugged. “For the good of the Earthers that don’t get taken.”

“Now you care about what’s right?” Dejo seethed.

“Not much,” Giles admitted. “But I thought you might, since you’re sweet on the local girl.”

Was that what he was on her? Sweet? No, it was more like plasma fire, hot and dangerous. If he got out of this… He strained against the plasilk bonds.

Giles grumbled at his device and poked it again. “Guess it was nothing.”

“It’s not a false alarm,” Dejo said. “I summoned the council authorities once I traced your payments back to Blackworm’s stronghold.”

Giles snorted. “Sure you did. Brought the council right down on your head. Out of guilt? Feeling bad about all those credits you stole?” When its device pinged another warning, it closed down the screen with a smile. “Nice try, thief, but I know you’re lying to me again.”

Dejo groaned. The one time he was telling the truth… “Let me go and we can both get out of here.”

“We will,” Giles said. “You’ll be on the harpy ship. And I’ll be on yours.”

Dejo cursed, long and hard, jerking against the plasilk.

Giles chuckled. “Right of salvage. Even the council would approve.” It frowned. “Quit banging around. You’re going to bruise, and the harpies want you back all untouched like.”

So they could touch him. And worse. Dejo channeled the sickening surge of panic into a muscle-wrenching heave against the plasilk.

Giles stepped back. “You ain’t breaking out of that without a long knife and a patient friend.” It aimed a stunner at Dejo. “But if you’re not gonna be good…”

Dejo tensed, wincing as the strictures of the soft plasilk cut down into his skin. Last chance—

A beam of orange light lanced through the gloom, blazing across his dazzled vision. He rolled to one side, knowing he couldn’t avoid the gnatha’s stunner for more than a moment.

Giles howled a curse and rolled the other way.

And Dejo realized the gnatha hadn’t been the one to fire.

“Interstellar police!” The announcement—augmented through a port-link—blared almost before the glow had faded. “Drop your weapon!”

Dejo swallowed against a seesawing rush of relief that it wasn’t the hivre harpies and dread of the council’s sure-to-be interminable legal punishments. Maybe they’d reduce his sentence since he’d found Blackworm’s stronghold…

A bold, upright shape in a distinctive sheriff’s hat stood silhouetted against the emergency lighting, pistol raised.

Even before his blinded vision entirely cleared, his crest surged, and he knew, despite the artificially altered voice.

Vaughn!

She’d come back, come for him.

His roll ended with him on his belly, facing Giles as the gnatha took a three-point firing stance, the stunner aimed toward Vaughn.

Dejo flexed his shoulder muscles, his flesh splitting against the tight plastic silk. As if the tickle of his blood was the signal they'd been waiting for, his protofeathers burst up through his skin.

Primitive and violent, they sliced through the shroud holding him tight. The plasilk shredded away from him, and he lunged across the floor toward Giles.

He slammed into the gnatha as the orange beam of lethal laser light pierced the gloom toward Vaughn.

Giles squawked as the two of them tumbled into the base of the emitter, smashing hard, knocking the stunner away. The pistol clattered across the floor. From the corner of his eye, Dejo was painfully aware of Vaughn trying to get a clear line of fire. He knew he was in the way of her shot, but he just couldn't force himself to let her take that risk.

Air whistled threateningly through the protofeathers that had sliced through his ships fatigues and the plasilk, leaving him bare chested. For a heartbeat, he reveled in the raptor fury of his primitive ancestors as he pounced on the hapless gnatha. He didn’t have a harpy’s tearing beak or thick talons, but he had all the atavistic rage of a beast whose mate was in danger.

But the gnatha was no simple prey. Though it had been holding itself to a respectably humanoid shape, in mid-fight it morphed. It unfolded its multi-jointed insectoid limbs, spindly arm and leg segments emerging from the hems of its sleeves and pants, thin but wiry strong and fiendishly quick. Its neck uncoiled too, vertebrae expanding, and papery-thin membranes unfurled to either side of the wide-gaped mouth as it spat.

Dejo jerked his head aside to avoid the spatter of acidic venom. Gnathan spit wasn’t strong enough to kill, but it hurt like hell and would leave him blinded.

The emitter hooted a louder warning. Something had breached the outer limits of its protective zone.

If a ship was incoming to Sunset Falls…

“Dejo!” Vaughn cried.

Like he needed his partner’s reminder. With a grunt, he heaved Giles to the side. The gnatha sprawled against the emitter just as its device wailed its own alarm.

Giles flung its port-link at Dejo, who deflected it with a raised forearm, and scuttled across the floor after the stunner. “You want us all to go to prison and your girl’s mind wiped to never remember you? Why are you fighting me?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Dejo said. At Vaughn’s cry, he threw himself backward, out of the way.

This was why he had a partner.

The explosive projectile that arrowed past him was close enough that the hot steel smell singed his nostrils.

The blast caught the gnatha in the shoulder, spinning it around. Its long, gangly limbs pinwheels in all directions, and it clutched for the emitter tower to hold itself upright.

Vaughn strode forward, tossing aside the sheriff’s hat. The dark gold strands of her hair were wetted to whiskey-brown at the ends, and the cool scent of storm water swirled around her.

Her fist slammed into the gnatha almost harder than the bullet, flattening the angular alien into a crumpled pile of limbs.

His deepest spirit seemed to rise, thrilling at her presence and whirled higher with each hard thud of his heart.

This is what the song meant about the phryx wind.

Her wide gaze fixed on him, unblinking, and when he took a lurching step toward her, she flinched almost imperceptibly. He froze, suddenly remembering his altered appearance.

The protofeathers burned down his spine and along his arms, the primitive barbs bristling with territorial violence and posturing for a mate, and green blood streaked his bare chest. No wonder she recoiled. The joy in his heart stalled and tipped into a death spiral.

The emitter panged another proximity alarm, as if it knew his chances were smashing toward the ground.

Giles swore and groped its long limbs up the emitter, trying to rise.

Vaughn whirled and aimed her gun again, her expression furious. But then she switched to the stunner and fired.

But all that emerged was an apologetic whine and a thin orange ray that sputtered out mid air.

“Shit.” She gave the stunner a shake. “I knew I should’ve recharged.”

“No time for regrets,” he told her. He’d have to remind himself of that later, when his soul was less burning wreckage in the empty field of his desire. “Let’s get out of here.”

He grabbed her hand and they raced to escape.

 

***

 

Vaughn stumbled behind Dejo, her knees wobbling as if she’d taken the bullet and the stunner hit. She’d thought she’d gotten used to the whole idea of aliens, at least sexy ones with feathers in their hair. But seeing him rip through his shirt had destroyed the last of her illusions too.

The feathers across his shoulders and arms and down his spine glittered even in the low light, edged like knives. No wonder he’d been able to shred his bonds.

As they fled down the hallway, a beam of laser light lanced past them. Giles had obviously retrieved its gun. And had dialed up to a killing level.

Dejo yanked her sideways even as another beam followed them, racing ahead of them to slag the doorway that was their escape. He pulled her down another hallway and they burst through a set of double doors.

Into the pouring rain.

They were at the top of the tower. From where they stood, the compound’s lawn stretched away to the forest beyond and the Onoffon beyond that. Their escape.

Unfortunately, that was easily five stories down. And they didn’t have the convenient microwire to rappel down in a nice, controlled manner.

Dejo’s hand tightened on hers, drawing her gaze up to him. “Do you trust me?”

She stared into his eyes, aware of the alien yellow rings and the streaks of green blood across his wide chest that marked him as a predator not of her world. She reached up and threaded her fingers through the longer feathers at his nape, wincing just a little as the sharp edges nicked her.

She raised herself to her toes and kissed him. “For love,” she murmured against his mouth.

When she drew back, his eyes were pure fire. As if in echo, lightening branched across the dark sky behind his head, turning the clouds to platinum and the raindrops to a billion falling diamonds. “Then hold on tight.”

Even as she was reaching for him, he stepped up onto the ledge at the edge of the tower.

The view of the drop made her heart seize in fear. There was a very good reason she’d never even considered going into the Air Force…

He spread his arms wide, feathers flaring, and she plastered herself to the branded wings on his wet chest right as he threw them into the void.

Wind roared past her ears, until she realized half of it was her own screaming. Except…they hadn’t died yet. She shut herself up and her heart soared—

But their bodies mostly plummeted. He didn’t have that many feathers, after all, and gravity was a bitch.

He controlled their wild descent it seemed through sheer force of will. And the hard clench of his powerful body holding all his feathers wide. The whistle of air over the barbs sang with a fierceness that sent her heart wheeling upward again.

They skimmed toward the ground at a not-shallow-enough angle. They were going to auger in…

At the last moment, he wrenched his shoulders back—she felt the creak of his bones through the thick muscles of his pecs where she clung—and their angle flattened. They were going to make it—

Their trailing legs hit the ground, and cruel momentum flung them into the muddy grass. She tucked her shoulders as she’d practiced in wrestling and basic training, but she’d never actually parachuted. Or wing-suited, more accurately. This was going to hurt.

But he curled around her protectively, like the toughest eggshell ever, and they rolled, flinging up a spray of muddy water.

She sprawled in the mud, her lungs absolutely empty, then yanked herself upright to one wobbling knee. Fuck, she still couldn’t grab her breath.

Dejo pulled her to her feet, his feathers bedraggled and broken, just as another beam of laser light streaked toward them. The pounding rain scattered the light, which if anything seemed more deadly. And they were only halfway across the lawn to where the Onoffon waited.

“You brought my ship,” Dejo gasped. “How—?”

“Your smart baby jelly walked me through the tricky parts. I think it would’ve come here by itself, but it decided it needed a walking partner.”

“How about running?”

They pelted across the lawn. She knew she should drop his hand—the two of them together made a bigger target—but she’d almost lost him—

Giles fired again, a wider spray of orange, as if the gnatha was pouring the last of the laser into the storm.

Vaughn tensed as she gripped Dejo. If this was their last moment together— “Dejo…”

Another beam, a dozen times larger, flared out of the clouds overhead, slanting across the clearing to blast at the tower. She threw her free arm over her head, as if that would stop her instant vaporization, and Dejo staggered to a halt.

Descending through the rain was a huge spaceship, its steely dark underbelly marked with running lights. And the glowing tip of an alien cannon.

She and Dejo froze then slowly raised their joined hands as the cannon swiveled toward them.

“Vaughn Quaye,” boomed a voice from the ship. “We’re here to take you to your sister.”