Challa (23 page)

“Do I need to be looking for a hospital?”

Tiron remained staring at the face of the woman lying in her arms. The smell of death was strong and unmistakable.

“No. There’s nothing they can do to save her,” she answered.

“Then why did we take her with us?”

“So she can be with other Ruinos when she dies,” Tiron said, already feeling edges of pain that continued to eat away at the woman in her arms.

“How much longer do you think she has?”

Tiron gave a little shrug of one shoulder. “Not long.”

“What if she never wakes up?” DeGrassi persisted gently. “How will she know she’s with other Ruinos if she never wakes up?”

Tiron glanced over at him with tears in her eyes. “She already knows,” she told him. “Challa knows…and she’s grateful.”

DeGrassi’s phone rang. It was Jebaral.

“Any sign of consciousness?”

“No, but Roni says she’s aware of where she is, and that she’s with other Ruinos,” DeGrassi informed him.

“Why don’t I take the lead?”

“Good idea,” DeGrassi agreed, and hung up as they watched his truck come around to take point.

Challa moved again in Tiron’s arms. She sighed, and slowly her eyes opened. Her face was clouded with confusion and pain. “
Akee…
”
Where…
The further she sank toward death, the more Challa gravitated back into her true self, including her native language.

“It’s Tiron, Challa. You’re with me. Jebaral’s here, too. And Simolif.” Tiron spoke to her in their own tongue. “You’re safe. We’re with you.”

Challa tried to take a deep breath, but failed. Her face convulsed. “
V’git…alorr…
”
Why…dying…

“I don’t understand,
kolli
,” Tiron murmured to her. “Why dying? Why are you dying? Because you lost your blood mate.”

Challa opened her eyes again. This time, however, her confusion was more pronounced. It was as if she had a moment of clarity. “Compton’s dead?”

Tiron frowned. She glanced up at DeGrassi, who returned an equally puzzled look.

“What?” DeGrassi asked.

“Compton is…dead?” Challa repeated. Tears rolled down the side of her face.

Tiron hugged her closer. “Isn’t he?”

“What is she saying, Roni?” DeGrassi spoke up again. “I thought you and Jeb said her blood mate was dead.”

“I…” Tiron tried to answer him, and gave up, turning her attention back to the young woman in her arms. “Challa, is Compton your blood mate?”

Challa struggled. Several more tears rolled over her pale cheeks. Her usually dark green Ruinos skin was now the color of old cabbage. “He…he can’t be.”

“What do you mean, he can’t be?” Tiron gave her a little shake. “Stay with me, Challa. What do you mean, he can’t be? Did you make love to him?”

“Yes.” The answer was a whisper.

“Did you orgasm? Did he?”

“Yes.”

“Then he’s your blood mate,” Tiron told her. To her surprise, more pain filled Challa’s face and eyes.

“Nooo.”

“No? Challa—”

“No…blood line.”

It took a moment for Challa’s confession to sink in. Tiron grabbed the young woman’s left arm and looked at it. “Thom?”

“What?”

“No…blood line,” Challa repeated weakly.

“Then…shit. I don’t understand,” he admitted. “If there’s no blood line, why is she dying like she is?”

DeGrassi’s phone rang again. It was Jebaral checking up on Challa, and letting them know Sarah and Simolif had arrived in Tumbril Harbor. “Any change?”

“She’s awake,” DeGrassi told him. “But what she’s saying doesn’t make sense.”

“What is she saying?” Jebaral asked.

“She’s saying she and a man named Compton had sex, and they both orgasmed, but she didn’t get a blood line. It has Roni and I both stumped.”

There was a moment of silence over the phone as Jebaral absorbed the news. The Ruinos man’s next question completely threw DeGrassi for a loop. “Did she make love to him as her true self?”

“What?”

“Ask her.”

DeGrassi looked over at his wife. “Jeb wants you to ask her if she made love as her true self.”

Tiron bent over the nearly unconscious woman. “Challa? Challa, when you made love to Compton, did you do it as your true self?”

Challa’s response was soft but clear. “No.”

“She said no,” DeGrassi relayed on the phone.

“That’s why,” Jebaral explained. “The first time Simolif made love to Sarah, they both orgasmed, but because he remained in his human form, he didn’t get a blood line. She has to make love as Ruinos or the line won’t form. But all the other signs are there,” he added.

DeGrassi gave the news to his wife. “Make her understand he
is
her blood mate, but because she wasn’t her true self when they made love, that’s why she doesn’t have the blood line.”

Tiron gave her another little shake. “Did you hear that, Challa? Do you understand what we’re telling you? Compton
is
your blood mate, but you won’t get a blood line until you make love as Ruinos!”

DeGrassi spoke back into the cell. “Jeb?”

“Yeah?”

“What if her mate is still alive? Could she be dying by being separated from him?”

“Yes!” Tiron nearly shouted before Jebaral could answer. “Yes! Oh, by all the stars, yes, she can.” She bit her lower lip as more memories rushed forward, bringing their stinging pain with them. Lowering her voice, Tiron told her husband, “If you hadn’t come back to me that night and made love to me, I would have died. A day later, or that next night, but I would not have been able to survive without you…and we hadn’t even had sex yet.”

DeGrassi took a deep, shuddering breath as her words sank in. “Ask Challa if this Compton is still alive, and where he can be found.”

Readjusting Challa in her arms, Tiron managed to free one of her hands. Touching the young Ruinos on the cheek, she said, “Challa, is Compton alive?”

Challa slowly opened her eyes.

“Is Compton still alive?” Tiron repeated.

“Yes.”

“Where is he? Where does he live?”

“C—Cooper.”

“That woman on the bus said Challa had been feeling sick ever since they left Cooper,” DeGrassi remembered. “Jeb, hang up. I gotta put out an alert on this guy. Roni, find out what Compton’s full name is.” He closed the cell then opened it again. The blueish-white glare from the phone’s screen cast the interior of the truck cab in an eerie, almost otherworldly glow.

“What if we don’t find him in time?” Tiron asked, worried.

Her husband grimaced. “We can’t think negatively, Roni. Not when Challa’s life is at stake. Find out the guy’s name, and I’ll get the ball rolling on my end.” He took another deep breath and adjusted himself in his seat. “It’s a miracle we managed to get to her in time. Let’s do what we can to save her, and hope we’re in time.”

Chapter 31

Location

The carnival wasn’t in New Meyersville, Bixley, or Van Batten. Neither was it in Charisford, Kyle, Spring Bottom, or Mt. Varish. Compton stared at the map in the glare of the truck’s cab light. There was no telling where it was. Worse, with the hit-and-miss search pattern he was using, they could be as close as five miles away, or five hundred miles away, and he wouldn’t know it.

He polished off the last of the cold coffee in the paper cup and checked his watch. It was nearly eleven. Rubbing his forehead with one hand, Compton tried to focus again on the map, but his eyes stung. He was tired, and he had a nice stress headache growing between his temples. But he couldn’t give up. Somehow, for some reason he could neither understand nor explain, he knew he couldn’t stop searching for her. He had to keep going, keep looking, but unfortunately time was being a mean bitch in the process.

“Challa, where the hell are you?” he murmured again. He’d lost count of how many times he had repeated that question. It was almost becoming a mantra to him.
Challa, where are you? Where are you, Challa?

A glance at his gas gauge told him he needed to start looking for a twenty-four hour filling station. His stomach growled to also let him know he hadn’t filled it in some time, either. His best bet at taking care of both would be to find a truck stop along the interstate, since most small-town gas stations closed up early.

He was tracing a nearby farm-to-market on the map, looking for the quickest route to the four-lane, when his cell phone rang.
Who would be calling me at this time of night?
His first thought was that it might be Challa, when he remembered that he hadn’t given her his cell number, or even thought to. Compton mentally kicked himself for the oversight as he answered the phone.

“Hello.”

A strange man inquired, “Is this Compton Scott?”

Compton paused, eyes narrowing. Less than a handful of people had his number, and each one of them had a specific reason for having it. He didn’t recognize the voice, so his answer was noncommittal. “Who wants to know?”

“Compton, my name is Thom DeGrassi. I’m a deputy sheriff over in Russup County, specifically in the town of Tumbril Harbor.”

Compton began searching the map for Russup County as he waited for the man to continue.

“Compton, I’m calling on behalf of Challa Doon.”

His heart nearly stopped beating. A hundred questions rushed into his mouth, jostling to be asked. Instead, he said a quick prayer before answering, and hoped this wasn’t some sort of sick joke being perpetrated by Hall.

“How did you get this number?”

“Compton, listen carefully to me. Challa is dying. You’re her blood mate, but because you didn’t make love to her while she was Ruinos, her blood line didn’t form. So she left Cooper, thinking you weren’t meant to be together.”

It was like striking him in the face with a baseball bat. This man knew Challa, knew she was Ruinos, and more importantly, knew the two of them had had intimate relations. The only answers he could find to his questions were either the guy was legit, or one of Hall’s cronies. Years of Army training made him choose the latter.

“Nice try, asshole. Tell Hall I’m not falling for whatever he hopes to accomplish.”

There was silence on the other end then a very weak voice whispered, “Compton?”

Ohmigod, Challa!
“Challa?”

“Listen…to Thom…
t’kor
.”

T’kor.
He remembered her calling him that once before, back when they had been making love. A word in her language that sounded like a love name.

Challa went away, and another female voice took her place. “Compton? My name is Tiron. I am Ruinos.”

The accent was undeniable. No one could imitate that accent. He realized his mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. He sat up straighter as Tiron continued.

“We took Challa away from the carnival, and we’re heading back to Tumbril Harbor. You need to meet us there as soon as possible.”

“How? I mean, how do I get there?” There was no longer any sense in trying to tell himself the phone call was a hoax. From the moment he heard her voice, Compton knew Challa needed him and would be waiting for him there.

The phone switched hands. The deputy returned. “Compton? What’s your closest interstate?”

“Eighty-eight. I’m about eleven miles or so away from getting on it.”

“Great. I think I know where you are. Go east until you see the cutoff to Settler’s Ridge. Take the exit and go north. Call me when you get to the cutoff, and I’ll talk you in.”

“Challa…is she…”

“Hurry, Compton. And drive safe.”

The connection ended. Immediately, Compton tossed the phone on the passenger seat and threw the truck into drive. Gravel spewed from beneath his tires as he gunned down the road, looking for the 168 intersection.

Head east.
The guy said to head east until he reached the cutoff to Settler’s Ridge.

Challa is dying. You’re her blood mate, but because you didn’t make love to her while she was Ruinos, her blood line didn’t form. So she left Cooper, thinking you weren’t meant to be together.

We started to.
We started to, but I was afraid of what those hands with those talons might do, so I had her change.
It had been the wrong thing to do. He realized that now, but neither he nor Challa had known it would make any difference at the time.

“Hang on, honey. Hang on, Challa. I’m coming for you. Please, just…hang on.”

Please, just hang on.
It would become his new mantra.

Chapter 32

Chip

Jebaral jumped out of the truck and rushed over to the SUV as it pulled in behind him. Tiron handed Challa over, and he hurried up the porch steps where Sarah was holding open the front door. He gave her a nod of thanks in passing.