Flight of the Golden Harpy (13 page)

Like their dreams, her affection was mutual. She longed to hold him, to have him. He nipped at her neck and pushed up the gown, exposing her small, nude body. Massaging her breast, he suckled like an infant while his firm erection throbbed between her legs, moistening and penetrating. Every part of him worked to inflame her desire to accept his seed and bear his offspring.

“No, Shail,” she moaned. “This is happening too fast.”

Shail stopped and lifted his head. To force himself on an unwilling female could cause her rejection of his fledgling. Though her sound conveyed doubt, her thoughts said she was his and wished no other male. He had to be sure. He buried his face in her hair and made his penis lightly pulse up and down, fueling her sexual craving. His partly extended wings fluttered with excitement. Detecting her building climax, he shut out the searing pain from his weak and battered body and mustered his remaining strength. His breath quickened as his teeth clutched her neck, preparing to consummate the mating. She totally accepted him.

Unlike a man who mated for pleasure, he was an animal who procreated to ensure his bloodline and willingly endured any hardship to complete this goal. Neither love nor passion played a role in the bonding. He was driven by despair and fear—fear he might not survive the captivity. As the last golden male and reigning monarch of the harpies, he lacked an heir and was obligated to produce a future ruler and protector of his flock. He had waited ten raining seasons for the chosen female’s return, but their time for bonding had run out.

Sensing her welling up and the tremendous rush in her head, he positioned his penis for total invasion and to complete his own climax. He suddenly felt dizzy and frantically shook his head, but the off-balance and numbing feeling wouldn’t leave. Frightened and confused, he sniffled at her and laid his head on her breasts, hoping to recover. Moments away from completing the breeding, his own body betrayed him. He closed his drowsy eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

*   *   *

Kari lay beneath the slumbering harpy for some time, knowing the sedative patch had taken effect and knocked him out cold. She gently pushed the lightweight male off her and sat up. The control, the spell he had over her faded, and she uneasily stared at Shail. With one kiss, he had seduced her in less than ten minutes. All of Charlie’s and her father’s warnings came thundering back. Was this the rape men spoke of? She covered her mouth with her hand. The full gravity of the incident sunk in. If the bonding had been completed, would she have lost her mind or her life?

Kari stared at the silky blond hair strands that drifted over his long eyelashes, his small nose, and full lips. Though a mature male, his alluring looks were childlike. “You didn’t rape me. I let you,” she said quietly, hoping to be convinced of his innocence, but the haunting question remained, could she resist him?

She wasn’t even sure what Shail was. He looked mostly human, but his mind and nature was wild animal. She still loved him, but felt her love was tainted with distrust. Even hurt and frail, he had nearly taken her. What would she do when he recovered? Would he obey her wish not to bond? It came down to a choice. Should she choose her own safety or his?

I can’t abandon him, she thought. He can’t fly, and he’s too weak and injured to last long in the jungle. “I have to stay with him regardless of what my father says.” She leaned over and kissed his lips. Her heart fluttered and goose bumps covered her body. The desire to crawl into his arms and cuddle him was overwhelming. Even unconscious, he was a magnet, drawing her to him. She quickly stood and backed away from the bed. “I won’t kiss you again.”

She went to the bathroom, stripped off the flimsy medical gown, and dressed in her clothes. Maybe Doc had some of her answers. Last night he had laughed off Charlie’s notion of a harpy spell.

*   *   *

Doc sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee, and Kari joined him. “Want some?” he offered.

“Yes, please,” she said, sitting down. She leaned against the table, wearily placing her hands against her forehead.

“You look upset,” Doc said, pouring the coffee into her cup.

“I am,” she said. “I’m in love with that harpy, but I hardly know or understand him.”

“Don’t feel alone,” he said. “Nobody knows the harpies. They’re Dora’s greatest mystery, but I think they’re more like us than people are willing to admit. I want to show you something.” He opened a drawer and rummaged through it, producing a tattered picture. “My grandfather gave this to me. Said it was taken one hundred and twenty years ago, when Dora was a new colony. The motion is broken, but you can see the images.” He handed the photo to her.

Kari looked at three smiling men standing under a large tree. Two harpies hung by their wrists from a branch and waited to be stripped and slaughtered. The picture was obviously a trophy hunt. “It’s awful.”

“Yes, but look closely at those harpies.”

Kari studied the picture. “They don’t look like present-day harpies. They have more hair on their bodies and look similar to loca eagles.”

“Exactly, and they have tails. Do you know why the first settlers named them harpies?”

“Not really, but I know ‘harpy’ is a Greek word meaning ‘to snatch.’ Harpies were noisy flying monsters, usually female, in ancient Greek mythology.”

“It’s documented that our harpies once chattered,” Doc said, “but how did present-day harpies change from their ancestors and became mute, sleek males?”

Kari shrugged.

“The male harpies stole the colony women and mingled the races. Your golden has human blood. That’s why the blood transfusion worked last night. I’m betting that something happened to the harpy females—a disease, a genetic defect that caused only male fledglings to be born—whatever it was, it wiped out their females, forcing these shy males to enter settlements and risk death to steal a woman. For over a hundred years we’ve been searching for a female harpy. Some people think the females are stashed on the islands or in the forbidding mountains, but I don’t believe they exist. In my retirement I’ve been studying the harpies, hoping to prove my theory.”

“If harpies are part human, they shouldn’t be hunted like wild game.”

“It’s politics, my dear,” Doc said. “Do we pass laws and protect a species that steals our women or let the hunters wipe out this threat? If the people knew the harpies were winged men, would the hunting be sport or murder? By the time it’s figured out, the harpies will be gone. More and more hunters come to Dora and invade the islands, the last harpy sanctuary. I bet your harpy is the last golden. As a boy, I’d fish the coast and watch the traveling brown flocks, led by a dominant golden male. Those days are over. Besides your boy, I haven’t seen or heard of another golden in twenty years, and that golden was killed by your father.”

“The one that tried to steal my mother,” Kari said. “I guess the golden harpies are valuable because they’re so rare.”

“Rare, but they’re also more aggressive than browns. Your harpy is living proof. A captured brown dies from fright and shock on the first day, and it won’t have the nerve to strike my scanner like your golden. Hunters prize a challenging animal. What surprises me is that idiot Jake managed to bring your golden down.”

“Jake said they had wounded a fledgling, and the golden flew down and attacked a guy named Hank and broke his arm.”

“What a little spitfire.” Doc chuckled. “Wish I could’ve seen those surprised boys. So, how did you get the harpy from Jake?”

“I traded my new terrain vehicle.”

“I said that Jake is an idiot,” Doc said. “He based the harpy’s price on old taxidermy wings found in the Terrance antique shops, but these days a live golden would bring a fortune. Have you decided where you’re going to take him? He’ll need quiet rest and antibiotics for ten days, and you’re right about John. If your father found a golden with his daughter, he wouldn’t think twice about killing it.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Dad stopped the harpy hunting on the estate. Maybe it’s the safest place.”

“John may lift the ban when he learns you got the harpy,” Doc said, “and it won’t be long, with Carol running her mouth. John and every hunter from here to Terrance will hear about your broken-winged pet. It’ll be like a treasure hunt for gold. They’ll be looking for your helpless golden that can’t fly off.”

“I have a place in mind, and I’ll leave tonight,” she said. “Shail may also tell me of a safe place.”

“Tell you?” Doc asked.

“Harpies don’t speak or make sound, but I can somehow understand their thoughts. A brown harpy told me that Shail needed me. I didn’t figure out his message until I found Shail with the hunters.”

Doc raised his eyebrows. “I’ve never heard of anyone communicating with harpies.”

“I was told by a vet at the Hampton Zoo that harpies trust me and use their sixth sense to relate to me. The vet is also studying the harpies and hopes to save them from extinction. The Dora government is funding his research.”

“The government!” said Doc. “That sounds fishy. It’s our senators who promote the harpy hunting. They recently passed legislation to add a bounty on harpy wings. If the governor signs it, the bounty will raise the price of wings, bringing more hunters to Dora.”

“Dr. Watkins seemed sincere and concerned with the harpies’ future.”

“Maybe he’s being deceived,” Doc said. “Your father had some nasty dealings with our senators. When John ended the harpy hunting on his estate, he lost several big timber accounts because of those senators. They’re against large landowners protecting the harpies, but your dad is a stubborn man. No one tells John what to do.” He dug out a pen and paper. “What’s the vet’s name? I might give him a call.”

“His name is Dr. Watkins. He was planning to come to the outback.”

“Maybe we can collaborate on the harpies,” Doc said. “There’s nothing like solving a good mystery.” He rose from his seat. “I’m tired from staying up half the night. Think I’ll lie down. You might do the same if you have a long night of travel. Does the communicator work in that old vehicle?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Take my portable. You might have trouble,” he said, handing the small com to Kari. “On the dining room table, I set out ten antibiotic patches and the medical supplies for the harpy, also some sedative patches, if he doesn’t behave.” Doc grinned. “Young lady, I believe you’re in for a hell of an adventure with the golden male. Keep in touch. You’ve become part of my research. I’ve never heard of a woman who could speak with harpies and was willing to go off with one. I’d be interested in how you two make out.”

Kari rose from her chair and wrapped her arms around Doc. “Thank you. I promise I’ll contact you.”

Doc left for his own room, and Kari went back to Shail. She lay down on the bed, but was careful not to touch the dozing harpy. She soon was asleep.

*   *   *

Kari woke to the ringing porch bell. A man’s frantic voice shouted for Doc. She scrambled off the bed and cracked the door to listen, fearing for Shail’s life. She heard Doc’s reassuring voice and the front door closed. Out the window, she saw a hover lift off and several vehicles speed down the street. She left the bedroom and found Doc in the hospital room, tossing equipment in his black bag.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“A swarm,” he said. “It hit east of town, and it sounds bad. If there’re survivors, they’ll be brought here so I can stabilize them for the trip to Terrance. You need to take your harpy and get out while the town people are gone. I have to go,” he said, hastily walking to the door. He rushed to his old hovercraft, and in minutes, the hover lifted off and was gone.

Kari grabbed the medical supplies and the portable com and raced to the garage. She threw open the garage door, went in, and placed everything inside the old blue vehicle. Jumping in the driver’s seat, she pushed the start button. Amazingly, the engines fired right up. She glided the vehicle over Doc’s vegetable garden and set it down by the cottage back door. She didn’t have much time, and Shail’s life depended on an escape. She ran inside the cottage and brought the floating stretcher alongside the harpy’s bed. The sedative must have been strong because Shail slept through the noise. She shook him, and he slowly opened his eyes. “Shail! We must go.”

He attempted to sit up, but collapsed, shutting his eyes. She screamed and pulled his arm. He shook his head.

“Climb on here,” Kari said, patting the stretcher. He made a feeble attempt, and with her help, he was on the stretcher. She pushed him through the cottage and outside. The warm breeze and fresh air seemed to revive him. He sat up and sniffled toward the trees. She opened the vehicle back door and placed the stretcher alongside. “Get in,” she said, patting the inside of the vehicle. Moving him out of the cottage had been easy, but she wanted him to climb inside a confining vehicle, and this attempt had a whole different effect on him.

*   *   *

Shail leaned in the metal traveling monster and smelled Jake’s scent and the dried blood left by harpy wings. He created a low hiss that was almost a growl and backed away. The female disapprovingly screeched at him and shoved his shoulder toward the deadly trap. He tossed his hair and bared his teeth at her, conveying his unwillingness to enter. She ignored his concerns and scolded him, grabbing his arm to drag him inside. He balked, bracing his feet against the vehicle door. She tussled with his legs and arms, hoping to overpower his feeble body. Having his fill, he snapped at her hands, and she released her hold. He sensed her distress and frustration, but she asked the unthinkable of a harpy male.

She leaned against the vehicle and stared at him. Even lethargic with drugs and weak from his wounds, he was stronger than her. She couldn’t force him where he wished not to go. “Please go in, Shail,” she begged. “My father will come here and kill you.”

He took her hand, the same hand he had mockingly snapped at, and apologetically nuzzled it.

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” She sighed and petted his head. “I understand that the vehicle looks like a cage, and harpies die when caged, but you must go in so I can take you away from the men.”