Wind Demon Triology: Book II: Evil Wind (42 page)

"You look tired,” he said.

"It's not tiredness, darling,” Dorrie said. “It's fear."

The Reaper's brow creased. “Fear of what?"

"Tylan Kahn has been chomping at the bit to talk to you, unable to bear waiting until you were awake but Beryla insisted. He's out in the corridor pacing like a caged...."

"Is Bridget all right?” he interrupted her, struggling to sit up but she put a hand to his chest and pushed him back down.

"Your lady is fine. She is in the hills of South Dakota and out of harm's way for now."

"For now?” he asked, his heart racing. “What do you mean for now? What's going on, Dorrie?"

"Terra is about to be destroyed,” Tylan said. He came into the room, waving aside Dorrie's objection.

"Destroyed how?” Cree asked. He pushed away Dorrie's hand and sat up.

"He shouldn't be doing this yet,” Dorrie snapped. “I'm going to tell Beryla!” She got up and hurried out.

"Nobody likes a tattletale, Burkhart!” Tylan threw after her.

"Tylan, tell me!” Cree said. He ran a trembling hand over his face.

"Do you remember that imam named Perse Abdul-Qahhar, the religious fanatic in the Middle East? He was making war noises before you were captured by Akkadia."

"What of him?"

"While we've been gone, his organization called Mansur has been responsible for numerous brutal terrorist attacks all over the world. Tens of thousands of people have been slaughtered by that radical group. Now he is gearing up to unleash several nuclear missiles on the United Stares and China simultaneously within the next few weeks."

"How the hell do you know that?” Cree asked.

"While you were being operated on, we got a transmission from the gods only know where giving us all the data,” Tylan told him. “We watched the story enfolding on the vid-com screen and knew we were seeing something from the future. Paegan had been following the Terran news broadcasts and we knew about Abdul-Qahhar. When we got that transmission and saw all the other stuff that's coming, we just about shit our pants."

"What other stuff?"

"There will be worldwide earthquakes, massive tsunamis, a buckling of the earth's crust the likes of which this world has never seen,” Tylan explained. “Land masses will shift, mountains will crumble, and volcanoes will erupt both above and under the sea. Whole sections of land will disappear beneath the waters and the fallout from the bombs will destroy all vegetation on this world for generations to come. A nuclear winter will set in and most of the life on Terra will be extinguished."

"Oh, my god,” Cree whispered.

"When the transmission ended, a woman's face appeared on the screen. She said we were to gather all those we love, that we care about and transport them up to the ship before the end of next week. We are to bring on board extra supplies of food and water—as much as we can—and break orbit to head back toward the wormhole."

"But the wormhole was collapsed,” Cree reminded him. “This could be a trap, Tylan. She could be setting us up."

"She said to tell you that you would remember her. She said her name is Morrigunia."

Cree's face paled. “That was the name of the goddess who helped us."

"Then I think we can trust her, don't you?"

"It would seem so,” Cree said. He lifted his legs and swung them off the side of the bed. “I have to go to my lady."

"We've already brought up all the Keepers and Hunters and their loved ones living on Terra. Bridie and Jaelin are the last of ours down there. Khiershon and his crew are seeing to the supplies and Caitlin, Beryla and the other women are helping by transporting up what medical things we'll need for a journey we don't know how long will last. Once we have your family with us, we'll boogie."

"What of the people on Terra?” Cree asked.

"There's nothing we can do there."

"We could go after Abdul-Qahhar,” Cree stated.

"We'd have to take out his entire organization, Kam, and they are all over the world. One bomb is in the Middle East and the other is somewhere in South America.” He shook his head. “There is nothing we can do. The die has been cast, my friend. We knew it was coming. They knew it was coming. We just didn't know when."

Bridget and Jaelin were packed and waiting for Viraidan to arrive at the log cabin. As they had assembled the things they did not want to leave behind—including the photograph of his father Jaelin was never without—they listened to the radio and the unsettling news of the building unrest in the Middle East. All the evening before, Bridie had tried to reach Beryla, Aurora, or any of the others but the phone lines were jammed and the calls never went through. Even the vid-com wasn't working, the increase in audio traffic, radar, and sonar the world over playing hell with its reception.

"We'll have to drive to Georgia and bring them back. That's al there is to it,” Viraidan had suggested when he and Bronwyn came over early the next morning. “I can get my hands on a large tour bus big enough for everyone."

"Felicity, her mate, and her daughter should be here from Florida in another day,” Bronwyn said, not wanting to ask where her husband would come by such a thing. “I should stay here."

Viraidan had balked but his wife reminded him she would have Colton, Cedric, and Ordin Gver—who for some strange reason went by the nickname Ralph—for protection.

"They've been taking food and water down into the fortress all night,” Bronwyn said. “I'd better go check on them."

"Did they take their rocking chairs?” Viraidan asked and when his wife gave him a droll look, he grinned. “Forget I asked."

He left to fetch the bus and Bronwyn gave Bridget a hug before heading back to the home she shared with Viraidan.

That had been at nine o'clock and it was now close to noon but neither Bridget nor Jaelin were hungry. They could always stop once they were out of the road and headed east. When they heard the sound of the diesel engine coming along the driveway, they hurried outside.

It was a huge thirty-eight feet long burgundy tour bus that could comfortably seat 30 people that pulled up in front of the cabin. When the doors shushed open and Cree stepped out, he was munching on what was left of a sub sandwich.

"I've got two more in the bus along with chips and some sodas,” he told them. “Figured you'd be hungry.” He clamped the remaining sandwich between his teeth and took up one of Bridie's suitcases.

"This is some rig,” Jaelin said.

"It's not a LRC but it'll do."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to spell you with this thing,” Bridie said.

"Not a problem. I can drive anything on wheels."

She thought of her husband. “I know a Reaper who can't,” she told him.

As though he hadn't heard her, he gave her their itinerary. “We'll go over Highway 20 to Sioux City, Iowa then down I-29 to Kansas City. We'll catch 64 to 75 and from there it's a straight shot on down to ‘Dosta,” he told them.

Bridget looked at him. “'Dosta? You've been to Valdosta before?"

He laughed. “Been there, done that, once had a bulldog t-shirt. I used to live down there in another life,” he said as he started piling their things into the luggage compartment.

Intrigued by his statement, she looked around to make sure everything had been taken on the bus. “Jae, get on the bus, sweetie. I'll lock up and we'll get going."

"Yes, ma'am,” her son replied. He ran up the steps and picked a seat, pulling the ever-present game player from the pocket of his hoodie.

Viraidan asked Bridget if she had remembered to turn everything off and lock the backdoor. When she said she had, he stood waiting for her beside the bus.

Bridget stopped on the walkway and looked out over the breathtaking view. Her heart grew sad. “It grieves me that this will all be destroyed,” she said, tears filling her eyes.

The Reaper sensed her sorrow and walked over to her. He put a hand up to cup her cheek. “Life goes on, Bridie,” he says. “The beauty will return to this land one day."

She hung her head. “I know.” Her shoulders shook and she felt his arms go around her clumsily.

"It's all right, milady,” he said. “Everything will be all right."

"Not if you don't take your hands off my woman it won't."

The voice had come out of nowhere and Viraidan had jumped, springing back like the warrior he was, his hand going to his hip only to find no blade strapped there.

Through the tears streaming down her cheeks, Bridget lifted her head and looked right into the blazing eyes of her beloved husband. Her heart skipped a beat and she dragged in a ragged, stunned breath, staggering beneath the weight of her shock.

An enraged Kamerone Cree was standing with his fists clenched, his legs apart, his nostrils flaring as he glared at the other Reaper. “Get the hell away from my woman,” he hissed.

Viraidan backed up, putting both hands up. “I wasn't poaching,
dearthaír
,” he said, taking another step back. He recognized lethal fury when it was aimed at him.

"I'm not your gods-be-damned brother!” Kamerone threw at him. He took a step closer.

"Kamerone,” Bridget said, knowing full well her husband was about to attack. “Viraidan is a friend. His wife is..."

"Right behind you."

Kamerone's head snapped around and he saw a very lovely woman standing beside what had to be the ugliest creature he had ever seen. Uglier than a Saurian—and that was saying a lot—the beast was growling at him and glaring at him with piercing eyes that promised death but brutal mutilation first.

"It's all right, Ralph,” Viraidan said. “He just misunderstood my holding his lady."

The Bugul Noz growled deeply and savagely, its black muzzle wrinkled dangerously and it took a step closer to Kamerone.

Three other men stood beside the woman. One looked to be in his late forties—and appeared to be laughing—one was in his sixties, while the other looked even older though his eyes sparkled like those of a man in the prime of his life.

"With three Reapers—including a female whose temper is worse than either Aidan's or mine—a Bugul Noz, a Nightwind and a Reaper's son more than willing to stomp on your ass if you lay one hand to our man, I suggest you stand down, boy,” the younger of the three men said in a soft Chalean brogue. He grinned. “I'm Brian, by the way."

Jaelin was riveted to his seat. He alone had seen the flash of silver that had crept silently over the cabin and had looked up thinking it was a cloud that had suddenly shaded the large structure. When he'd realized it was a gigantic craft of some kind, he'd lost all ability to speak, staring up through the window at the soundless glide of the ship as it hovered over the cabin. He'd nearly fainted when he saw the man materialize out of thin air. When he realized who the man was, he finally found the ability to get up out of his seat and hurry to the door of the bus. Just as he arrived, he saw the other men suddenly appearing in a semi-circle around the man he knew was his father. But it was when the two strange looking robots popped out of nowhere to position themselves to either side of Kamerone Cree, Jaelin found his voice.

"Whoa!” was all the boy could say.

"I think twelve Reapers, ten warriors, and two ‘bots trump your three Reapers, one Reaper son, one Bugul Noz and a paltry Nightwind,” Tylan Kahn said, folding his arms over his chest.

"Thirteen Reapers,” a cute young woman said as she appeared beside him. She filled out her black uniform quite well and drew Jaelin's immediate attention.

"Rad. I. Cul,” Jaelin said with a whistle.

"Not to mention the seven Amazeen who are all having PMS right now,” Akkadia Kahmal added as she and her crew materialized.

Viraidan was glaring at the Amazeen Major in her gray uniform and a low growl came from his throat.

"That's the bitch who captured my husband,” Bridget said and started forward only to find her way blocked by Viraidan Cree.

"Let me handle this,” Cree said.

"Unless you want me to tear your guts out and stuff them up your thieving ass, you'd best move away from my wife,” Kamerone warned.

"Kamerone! Shame on you!” Bridget exclaimed. She pushed Viraidan aside and rushed to her husband, coming up short as she got almost toe to toe to him. Her eyes roamed over his face. “Are you all right?"

"I'm fucking pissed, Bridget,” he said, glancing past her to the other Reaper, his hackles bristling, nostrils quivering, eyes glinting a dark crimson color. “I come home from hell to find you in the arms of another man and...."

"He's a friend,” she said and put a trembling hand up to his cheek. “A friend, Kam."

"He's a gods-be-damned Reaper!” Kamerone said then sniffed, his eyes going wide. Shock entered his hard gaze. “And so are you!"

"It was one of your fledglings!” she was quick to tell him, horrified he would think the revenant worm had come from Viraidan. “There's nothing between me and Viraidan. He is just a friend who was comforting me."

Kamerone's eyes flicked down to hers. “I'm the only man who will ever comfort you, Bridget Cree!” he snarled and snaked out a hand to capture her waist, dragging her to him.

Bridget melted against him.

"'Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon',” one of the robots said, drawing Jaelin's attention away from his parents.

"'The happiest day—the happiest hour mine eyes shall see—have ever seen',” the other robot said on a long sigh.

It was to hardy applause that Kamerone Cree's lips slanted over his wife's and he held her so tightly to him not even a wisp of smoke could have gotten between them. His hands were all over her back, her bottom, her shoulders, cupping her cheeks, running over her hair as she clung to him, her fingers buried in the black silk of his shirt.

"Isn't this where you tell him to get a room, Kahn?” Lares Taborn quipped.

No one else existed for Kamerone and Bridget. He bent his knees, swept his arm under her knees, and lifted her high against him. He turned and headed straight toward the cabin, taking the steps onto the porch two at a time. He strode to the front door, lifted his leg, and kicked a booted foot hard against the panel. The door popped open and banged against wall.