24
He said his name was Dorian, Dorian the Gray. He also said that he was aware of the pun, and it was an old joke to point it out. From the looks of him he was close too second generation, perhaps early third, which made him hard as fence rail nails and twice as mean in a fight. I had no doubts about him keeping up and from what I was seeing in the green belts. With the prospect of what could be between me and Myriana, I was glad to have him, but until I had Myriana safe in my arms, his life was forfeit. He agreed to this, without humor, and so we set out as soon as the people were in the Keep and the walls were properly tended.
He wasn’t wrong about his speed. For the first time since my days with Ragnar, I was pressed by someone else. Despite this I also felt I was holding him back from any kind of excursion point.
Once inside the green, we separated, and I shifted into a stronger form. I had no sense of need in mercy or hunt. I wanted through these zombies as fast as possible. Dorian showed no sign of argument or other need either. What we ran into however, was nothing we were prepared for and it brought us both to a confused halt.
Shadows moved away from us, and around us from things that were like hanging puppets. Cloth and clothing, torn sheets and branches hanging from the trees, between then and around them. The scent of zombies was everywhere. A wall of scent, as if hundreds were around us in all directions. We turned and twisted. Then I spied a true zombie and had him — but the others were puppets and ghosts of scent.
"One for every ten? Twenty?" Dorian asked, his frustration near rage. "What is this?"
"Confusion," I growled. "Confusion to the enemy."
Dorian suddenly pounced and clawed at the ground, pulling out a zombie from the earth. "More than confusion. Cover and mortal threat."
And then a hundred clawed up from the earth surrounding us. Like the sight of an earthquake disgorging bodies from a cemetery, they rose and took hold of us, piling on and pushing us down into the loose earth of their former graves, pushing us into their pits.
Decades had passed since I fully shifted, but my own fear and rage sent me past that line in a heartbeat. I roared and trampled and clawed my way through their forms, tearing all I grabbed in my claws to shreds and bone.
Dorian fought with equal malice and rage and yet we were losing ground. Their numbers were overwhelming our strength. And the thought of her, the thought of Myriana, it plagued my mind.
Fuck.
Shit.
Dirt cloths fell on my sides, and then my shoulders. I pushed. I fought. Harder than I’d ever fought in my entire existence. Not just for me. Not just for my survival. But for her. Even if I didn’t make it, even if in the end I died, even if I didn’t know where the fuck she was, she needed to be okay. I needed her to survive. Her Keep and her people needed her to survive.
The smell of zombie, the echoing of my growls, they ripped through the air like thunder. I was losing. Blood and guts and everything in between was everywhere. I wasn’t weak in this fight. But I was still losing. There were too many of them. Simply too many.
My muscles tensed and I lashed out at the marred creatures in front of me. More guts. I ducked. I swung. Slashed with my claws. One more zombie down. But I was losing ground and the next thing I knew, something had me. Something had me, pulling me, further, deeper. I called out to Dorian and I heard him answer my call. But he had his own battle to fight.
I could smell the churned up earth swallowing me. The sunlight above winked and then vanished, and I was certain that it was the last I would know of its shine. And what a way this would be to die. The thought of death had never scared me before. Mainly because I never thought of death. But to die now, when love was so fucking close, I could almost taste her on my tongue, it felt wrong.
I fell deeper.
And deeper.
I fought and I fell. And the more the shine of the sun dimmed into nothingness, the more certain I became that this was the end.
And then there were two others. I could hear them. Shifters. I didn’t try to save face. To hell with what anyone would think of my strength if I was the one who needed to be saved, as opposed to the one doing the saving. I wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. Not until I’d loved her fully and completely. Not until I knew she was okay.
The shifters roared. They tore. Their rage vibrated with my own. And then another shifter joined them, even stronger. And then a fourth, as strong as those before. And then sunlight and clawing forward, up and out of the grave. No thought, just clawing and gasping for air. My rage carried me out and though my strength should have been depleted, I didn’t feel weak at all. I clawed at anything that looked zombie-ish. I tore through their bodies, their corpses, their puppets and their strings.
Adian and Iris were there, as well as Karal. The one called Víðarr as well as Dorian. Others as well.
We fought and chased and clawed. Tooth and rage, until the light was dim and the greenbelt cleared.
Two shots rocked the sky as two red flares bloomed above the main gate, where Myriana held her gun aloft, standing mid span on the arch above. Beckoning.
"Looks like mother wants us home for dinner," I growled, reshaping into my human form.
"I see it as your fault we have to go in so soon," Adian said.
"How do you figure this?" I asked.
"Well, you going under like that... I’m surprised she went inside the gate as we asked." Adian coughed into his fist.
"She didn’t," said the one called Víðarr. "I pinched her horse’s ass and sent her galloping in that direction."
I grinned. "Well done, all of you. If you ever felt you owed me a debt of any kind, it has been paid. In full — and some owed back in return."
"We better go, she will not be patient tonight, not with the walls full, and a festival to begin," Karal said.
The lot of us, thirty in all, went through the trough showers outside the walls and then into the hot showers inside. There we scoured with pumice stone using abstergent power, and scrubbed backs, legs and teeth until the smell of zombie was down the gutter into the sewers below.
Dressed in loin cloths and loose cotton shirts we emerged to a cacophony of cheers and shouts. This was a human expression of praise, which went over most of the Kind’s understanding — with our hearing, shouting was not often done; wolves don’t bark.
I stood, with Adian and Karal at my side. Queen Myriana was soon before us. Smiling, she looked from Adian, to Karal, to me. And like it was the most natural thing in the world, we all reached out to her, hugging the parts of her that the other didn’t block. We kissed her. Her cheeks, her neck, her lips. We fought for her flesh in the greediest, most kind-hearted way together. As though there was a full understanding of her belonging to us all.
“Adian, Karal,” she said, “you don’t mind if I steal Fenrir for a while, do you?”
Karal shook his head.
Adian followed suit, smirking. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” he warned.
I smiled back. This was what family felt like. This was what I’d been avoiding all along. And why? I didn’t know the answer to that. And the truth was, I may never know.
Myriana took my hand, leading me into the throng, which parted for her. The rest followed us to the temple steps where Bia the Priestess waited. She anointed us with small drops of flower oils between our eyes and blessed us — thanking the goddess for our safety in battle and our willingness to sacrifice all for the rest of the realm. I supposed that was true, but it sounded far more noble than my intentions.
After this, a surprising amount of musicians rose their music into the air, playing fast, foot-tapping songs, of which most made sense together. After ensuring that the walls were well manned with eyes looking out, and search lights on the fields and forest lines, I relaxed enough to join into the fray of party-goers and well-wishers.
Myriana was a good dancer. Thanks might or might not need to be given to the wine. But when she swayed her hips, she did so as though there was no one else in the room. As though she didn’t care about being judgement. She did what her body told her to do. I took her in my arms and we moved to the music together, her pressing up against me greedily, moving against the part of me that had craved her for far too long.
“Be careful there, princess,” I warned, my lips wet against her ear.
“You’ve shown a lot of self restraint up until this point. I think you can manage just a little longer,” she shot back.
I didn’t like having my self-restraint tempted. I knew she expected me to obey, to dance with her and nothing else. But her body, oh did her body, the scent of it, beg for things I’m sure she wasn’t capable of handling. I spun her around and when her eyes met mine, I knew she thought it was her lips I’d be sucking on. I dipped my head just that much lower, catching the flesh of her breast between my teeth and I sucked until the shape of my mouth blossomed red against her skin.
When I let go, she was breathless. And her body was begging me even more to fuck her.
“Not right now,” she rebelled. She bit down on her lower lip and slowly, guided herself away. “I’m going to check on Karal,” she said and then moved closer, “mix, mingle, and when this is all over, I’ll show you just how much fun it is to fuck a human you’re in love with.”
“In love with?” I asked.
“And you say shifters are hard to read,” she laughed and then disappeared into the crowd.
I found my own way through the room. I mixed. I mingled. I did as she said.
When I ran into Adian I asked about the day with the Queen.
He quaffed a half a pint of hard cider, then said. "She came upon a setup like you did in the belt here. Shadows and ghosts hanging from trees. Only she didn’t fall for it, and go running off into the woods. According to what I got from Víðarr, she informed her men of the buried ones in the Keep. The road is hard packed so it was easy to spot the few buried in or near the roadway. She ordered a charge as soon as they were clear of the woods and heard the alarm bell from the Keep. We caught up with her about half way here, and she ordered us on ahead."
"So I guess I need to thank her for my saving, and whatever debt she felt she owed me is paid." That felt good to me in a way I was surprised to feel.
"I guess," Adian said leaning back on a barrel stack. "She saves you by sending me to help you save her realm. The math is too much for me. I don’t know who owes who, and don’t care as long as there is more of this cider around."
He tipped his mug to his head, his feet tapping to the rhythm of the music. I smiled and nodded. Not at the sight of him, but at the realization of just how wrong I was about Myriana’s men.
“Oh, and Fenrir?” he called after me.
I turned to face him. “Yeah.”
“You might be the older. But you are not the wiser when it comes to her. Break her heart and we’ll take turns breaking your neck.” His voice was as casual as a lullaby, but even in its sing-song tone, I knew the threat was real.
“Noted,” I answered.
*
The darkness was full now, but the yellow and blue lights lit the inside of the Keep with warm light. Blue and white streamers crisscrossed the streets from the lamp posts and Summer poles. While walking near a dark area near the Keep itself, a slender pale hand reached out and grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me inside.
Emerald was an animal roaring in her eyes. Carnelian a flower whose bud formed her lips.