Kyn 3: Feral (10 page)

Read Kyn 3: Feral Online

Authors: Mina Carter

BOOK: Kyn 3: Feral
5.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“One way gate,” he murmured, half to himself. “Smart. Don’t want anything from this side getting through.” He smoothed his hand over the wood, the prickle of active wards warning him of heavy duty protection spells buried in the flimsy wood. “Some fancy Warden work here I’d say, your aunt must have paid a pretty penny for this lot.”

Tessa shrugged and shivered as she cuddled the baby closer, breathing in his familiar scent as she looked around. All babies smelled the same, like warm baby powder and well…

pure baby. If anyone could bottle the stuff, they’d make a fortune! It was the ultimate

‘comfort smell’.

Feral’s comment about not wanting anything from this side to get through had caused a chill to run down her spine. That didn’t sound good, not good at all! Her teasing mood, which had been clinging on despite the odds, disappeared as a new thought occurred to her. A very unwelcome thought.

“We’re on the Night Plains, aren’t we?” Her voice was quiet, wary. She’d heard of the place. Who hadn’t? It featured in every scary story told to any child with Fae blood. But she never thought her aunt meant this when she talked about travelling to the Fae Court!

“I’m afraid so,” Feral pushed away from the door and held his hand out to take a couple of the bags. Without a death squad of Pixies breathing down their necks he didn’t need to be on such a constant alert. His finely honed senses would him if anything even thought about getting within spitting distance and if they kept on the move… they should make it through this.

“Come on, we need to get going.”

Chapter Seven

Feral shifted position, a grimace on his face as he tried to ease some life into his leg.

Not an easy task considering Tessa was half lying across it, Spud in her arms. Both were fast asleep. They'd walked for a couple of hours through the endless night, following the parchment map Tessa had been given. Eager to get through the Plains, Feral would have pushed on, but Tessa had begun to stumble, her weariness showing in the droop of her shoulders and the heaviness of her steps.

He called a stop, knowing they weren't going any further when she'd run into his back for the third time. Half mortal she didn't have the reserves he did. So now they were settled into a clearing off the crude path, a fire blazing in front of them. Feral had taken watch, since he didn't actually need to sleep and Tessa was all but dead on her feet, his back against a broad tree trunk and his senses on high alert.

So far though, nothing. The combination of the fire and the scent of Vampire was enough to keep most of the local wildlife away so Feral let his attention wander a little. His hearing was acute enough to pick up and track anything with a heartbeat, which left him free to study the woman in his arms.

What was it about her he found so fascinating?
He'd seen plenty of human/paranormal half breeds but none had affected him the way she did. And she was a damn Pixie to boot!

He didn't like Pixies. It was a long standing dislike, one that had intensified last year.

A bunch of Pixies had kidnapped his patrol partner, Vixen, one of them had damn near killed her and he'd gotten a right good pasting to boot. These days it was a sorry Pixie that crossed Feral's path!

He reached down to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. His fingers felt too big, too clumsy somehow for such a delicate task as he tucked it gently behind her ear. His whole body ached, keyed into every movement of the soft, feminine body curled trustingly into his.

His earlier frustration had leeched away, replaced for now by a need to protect. A feeling that was new to him, at least a feeling this intense and specific.

He was used to the whole protection thing. Warriors patrolled the streets in small groups keeping them clear of Rogue vampires. Rogue's always posed a threat, to anyone, regardless of race. Blood was blood to the blood-crazed, regardless of who donated it, and it was never willingly when a Rogue was involved.

But that was an impersonal sort of protection, just like a police officer patrolling the streets. What he felt for Tessa and the baby went far deeper. He needed to be around her, around them, see with his own eyes that they were ok. Protect them with his own hands, his own body, when necessary. Not hand that responsibility over to anyone else.

He frowned, considered that feeling. Was it love? He didn't really believe in love. He
thought
he was in love before, with Vixen. For years he had waited for her to notice him.

Trouble was, she only ever had eyes for Kalen. She never noticed him. Actually he never garnered the same amount of female attention as some of the other guys.

Warriors like Mikal, or that new guy Zarett, one of last year’s rookies. Both of them looked that good they could double as models if they wanted; in fact Zarett was known as

'pretty boy' after an agent tried to recruit him right in the middle of a Rogue take-down. The guy had lived, just. He needed a couple of bags of O positive shoved into his veins and a mind-wipe but he was still breathing; which was more than could be said for the Rogue and Zee's reputation.

Feral, by contrast, didn't wear the fancy threads, couldn't have told you the difference between one designer and the next and his hair, usually a source of vanity for the Kyn, was kept skin short with the aid of a razor. If ever there was a Kyn ugly duckling, he was definitely it!

He leaned his head back against the bark and closed his eyes with a sigh. Love was too big an emotion to think about at the moment, what with mad Pixie's chasing them and being right in the middle of Fae bandit country. It was the sort of internal debate that needed copious amounts of alcohol and possibly a pizza or two.

The warmth of the fire played across his face, his big body starting to relax, sliding into sleep.

Shit! What was he doing?
He came too with a start, his instincts screaming at him as he fought his way back out of sleep. A deep, drugging sleep that was nowhere near natural.

Adrenalin burned the fog from his brain as he blinked, his hand smoothing down Tessa's back as she murmured and turned to him. The movement was so natural, so trusting, it tugged at the big man's heart strings.

They weren't alone.

Feral registered the new presence instantly, looking up to meet the eyes of a small figure standing the other side of the fire. It hadn't been there a moment ago, nor was he picking up a heartbeat. Which played to the illusion of a small girl the creature was projecting. The glamour was near perfect. But for that one telltale fact Feral might have believed there was a human child standing looking at him. Then the wind changed slightly, and the stench of rotting flesh drifted over the fire towards him. His stomach turned over.

He met the creature's look, his expression dangerous and forbidding. His dark eyes plainly saying ‘You want to dance? Come on, let’s dance then sweetheart, you just name the tune’
.
He had no idea what particular flavour of Fae nastiness this was, but there were nastier things that went bump in the night than a Fae.

Feral was one of them.

He curled back his lips, flashed his fangs in a silent warning. Fully extended now in anticipation of a good fight, they were impressive, filling his mouth so much that speech would be a tad difficult at present. Which wasn't really a problem since he intended to rip the creature's throat out if it made a move towards them, not engage it in conversation!

With a soft growl of disappointment the creature turned and disappeared into the darkness, it was clear these travellers weren't going to be the easy pickings they'd at first appeared. Feral shook his head.
Never judge a book by its cover,
he thought as he leaned down to wake Tessa. “Come on sweetheart, we need to get moving again.”

It was too early.
Way
too early. Tessa grumbled under her breath as she trudged along after Feral, missing her nice warm duvet and her comfortable mattress. A feeling which wasn’t helped at all by Feral, who looked as bright and breezy as though he’d had a full night’s sleep and just hopped out the shower.

It just wasn’t fair!
How the hell could he look so good when she
knew
he’d been awake the entire night leaning against that tree trunk? She ran a hand through her tousled hair, making a face. She looked and felt like she slept in her clothes, which she had, and she had the nagging feeling something unpleasant had crawled up under her jeans leg, leaving an itchy trail over her skin. All feelings that were contributing to her grumpy mood. Not to mention the fact she had less than her eight hours and hadn’t inhaled at least three cups of coffee yet, which she needed to feel at least halfway human. Or Pixie.

“So how long before we get there?” she asked, hoisting the still sleeping Spud higher in her arms, grateful she thought to grab one of the twins sling carriers on her way out of her sister’s trashed apartment. Without it, he’d be getting awfully heavy right about now and it meant he could sleep on undisturbed as they carried on walking. A stab of envy hit her, one she immediately felt guilty about. It wasn’t his fault. Whatever had happened that led to him being left on Feral’s doorstep, no one could blame a baby for it.

He made a contented little sound and nuzzled closer into Tessa, his tiny hand splaying over her collar bone. She smiled, her heart melting in that instant, snuggling him closer.

There was just something about baby cuddles that made you forget everything that was bothering you. Maybe just for a second or two, but sometimes that was all you needed.

Now what had that little smile been all about?
Feral wondered silently as he folded out the parchment map, checking their location. Like everything else that surrounded Tessa and her frankly odd aunt it hadn’t exactly been what he’d been expecting. The old fashioned parchment and script handwriting hadn’t been a surprise but the little smiley faces and flowers along the border had been. Guess young girls weren’t much different, no matter what century they were born in.

“I think we’re either here, or here,” he said, tapping the map.

Tessa looked over his arm, a frown creasing the centre of her brow. “Here or here?

You mean you don’t know?” she asked, her voice incredulous. “Well, isn’t that
just
like a man?”

Feral caught the teasing look in her eyes but he bit anyway, the edge of unease he’d been feeling for the last hour or so eating away at him.

“Well, it’s not like we can stop and ask a local, is it?” He threw back, eyebrow arching. “Stop anything around here and it’d be more interested in stripping your flesh to the bones than giving you directions!”

Tessa gave him ‘the look’, but he was right. All they had was the hand drawn map and it wasn’t the most accurate of documents. It had no scale, no compass, or even easily discernible features. Which wasn’t a problem since there
were
no landmarks in this damn place, just endless plains of ratty scrub lands and dank little woods. She snorted to herself.

Hell, stick a couple ‘here be dragons’ and a red X on this thing and it could double as a kids pirate treasure map!

She carried on studying it, trying to make out where they were along the marked trail, then shrugged. “I can’t make head or tail of it either…”

“Sssh!” He held his hand up in warning, silencing her instantly. Had a guy done that to her normally, his ears would be ringing from the tongue lashing she gave him for being arrogant. But not Feral, especially not when he was doing the whole living statue thing again, his eyes unfocused as he concentrated on their surroundings. She tried as well, listening out for anything out of the ordinary, scanning their surroundings for things likely to leap out and attack them at any moment.

But nothing, she couldn’t see or hear anything odd. For all she knew he could have smelled something dangerous. She wouldn’t have had a clue on that angle, her sense of smell had packed in a few minutes after they’d come through the door in defence against the funky smell which seemed to surround everything here.

Thump, thump, thump…

The sound of heavy footsteps formed out of the silence, heading towards them, accompanied by a thrashing sound. Like a kid thrashing at weeds with a stick. A large stick.

Tessa’s eyes widened as the ground behind their feet quaked. “God, how
big
is that?”

“I have no clue but ten to one it ain’t gonna be friendly. Here have these, get behind those rocks,” He handed her the bags he’d been carrying and nodded towards an outcrop just off the path. Large enough to use as cover in case of flying debris, they might even be large enough to conceal her if this went bad. And it was quite likely to go bad. His Kyn instincts were screaming at him, the skin between his shoulder blades crawling, all his senses telling him this wasn’t going to be pretty.

As Tessa scurried to the safety of the rocks Feral stood in the middle of the path, blocking it. He only had his blades on him but that would have to do. Whatever was coming down that path was going to have to get through him before it got to Tessa and the baby.

His jaw clenched, eyes dark with determination, and there was no way he was making that easy!

Feral rolled his neck, easing the big muscles in his shoulders. Moving slowly, with a deliberation that was unique to the big Warrior, he reached into the small of his back. His fingers slid into the leather wrapped grips of his blades, pulling them free with a practised movement.

He settled them more comfortably over his knuckles, eyes on the turn in the path, the light glinting off the lethally sharp blades across the backs of his hands. KDFH the lads at the compound called them. Knuckle Dusters from Hell.

He defended himself and others many times with these. His speed, accuracy and sheer energy made him the equal of Kalen and his twin blades and he could even land a point or two on Marak every now and then.

Thump, thump, thump...

Feral's eyes narrowed as the footsteps got closer. No matter how good and how fast he was, the fact remained that whatever that was, it sounded
big.
And the blades on his knuckles were looking smaller by the minute. He'd always taken the piss out of Mikal and the others for carrying modern weaponry but right about now he wished like hell he was packing heat!

Other books

A Secret Rage by Charlaine Harris
On the Nickel by John Shannon
The Music Trilogy by Kahn, Denise
A Tale of Two Tails by Henry Winkler
Northern Fires by Jennifer LaBrecque
No Mercy by Lori Armstrong