Kira spun around and took off toward the car,
skidding to a stop a second later when she noticed another man
standing a few feet in front of her. He casually picked his
fingernails with the tip of a very large switchblade. The wicked
grin on his face made the skin on Kira’s arms grow cold and a chill
rise up the length of her spine.
“Going somewhere?” he mocked. His long,
stringy blonde hair set him off from his cohort—as did the deep
scar that ran from the corner of his mouth to his ear.
Lydia ran full force into Kira’s back,
sending them both scrambling for their balance. They clumsily
regained their footing and tried to avoid the men by going a
different direction, but their pursuers cut them off like a pack of
wolves cornering their prey. Kira’s stomach twisted into a massive
ball. She should have listened to her instincts.
“What do you want?” Lydia asked, her voice
hard and angry.
The blonde casually tossed his knife from one
hand to the other, as if terrorizing them brought him some kind of
satisfaction. His hollow gray eyes held no mercy. Kira was close
enough that she could see that now. Whatever the men meant to do
was decided.
“Princess Shandira would like a word with
you,” the albino said.
“She’s no princess,” Lydia said, as a tiny
click released the plastic buckle on the strap of her pack. The
weight of it brushed against Kira’s leg as Lydia lowered it to the
ground between their feet.
“What are you doing?” Kira asked between
gritted teeth, her voice barely audible.
But Lydia didn’t answer. Her next words were
meant for the albino. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“What’s he talking about?” Kira asked over
her shoulder while keeping the blonde’s movements in her view. Her
question mingled with the sudden wail of Lydia’s attacker and the
popping and cracking of what she imagined to be breaking bones.
Kira turned to see Lydia forcing the man to his knees, his fist
grasped tightly in her right hand. Blood oozed from between her
fingers.
The blonde pushed Kira to the ground as he
hurried to his partner’s aid. It happened so fast, Kira didn’t
think how to react. She simply twisted around and dove for his
legs. The knife flew from his grasp and landed a few feet away in
the dirt. Unable to reach her with his hands, he kicked Kira loose
with a firm thrust of his boot to her ribs. She cried out, grabbed
her side and scooted away until her back rested against a
stump.
The man narrowed his eyes at her. The evil
she saw in them sent a surge of fear clean through her. She
couldn’t move—could barely breathe with the throbbing pain in her
side.
A grunt of frustration rumbled through his
chest as he jumped to his feet to retrieve his weapon. When his
fingers brushed the handle of the knife, Lydia released a throaty
growl. He jerked his head to the side and froze. It was then that
Kira noticed the change in Lydia as well.
At first Kira only saw her from behind, but
as Lydia’s assailant rolled to the ground, holding his mangled and
bloody hand against his body, Lydia turned toward the blonde,
giving Kira a side view of her face. The girl standing in front of
her was
not
her friend, but a morphed version of her.
Lydia had a round face with a little nose,
thin lips, and green eyes. This girl’s face was lean and tan, with
a slender nose perfectly positioned above full lips. It was as if a
sculptor had remolded her features. And her eyes—the color of blue
ice—with the same frigid speck of attitude Kira had so often seen
hidden behind Lydia’s.
The girl threw back her shoulders, leaned
toward the blonde and extended her hands to coax him closer. “You
are next,” she said in a strange accent. The way she rolled her “r”
reminded Kira of a cat purring.
The man snatched the knife from the ground
and swung his blade, barely missing the girl’s cheek.
“Take her down,” the injured albino said as
he rolled to his knees and clumsily pushed to his feet. “I’ll get
the runt.”
It only took Kira a second to figure out he
meant her, but she couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. She
ducked her head and waited for him to grab her with his good hand.
When he didn’t, she looked up to see the girl shove the blonde to
the side and leap into the air, thrusting her right foot into the
wounded man’s stomach just a few feet from where Kira cowered.
Yes!
Kira nearly said aloud. She
didn’t know who this girl was, but she liked her kick-butt attitude
and wished she was more like her. If only she had the courage to
join in the fight. The thought made her shrink closer to the ground
and brace against the stump.
Lydia’s keys landed in Kira’s lap with a
thunk
. “Kira, get out of here,” the girl yelled, delivering
another blow to the crippled man’s hand. He cried out, cradled the
bloody mass against his gut, then pushed up with his good arm.
Before Kira had time to react, the blonde had
regained his footing and started toward her.
“Kira!
Go!
” the girl yelled as she
jumped between them, deflecting another blow with her arm and
sweeping his feet out from under him with her leg. He landed flat
on his back, a whoosh of air bursting from his lungs.
The injured man took another quick look at
the scene in front of him, mumbled something under his breath, and
took off in the direction of the bridge. The blonde stumbled to his
feet and brought his knife up, swinging the blade.
Kira screamed.
But not the girl. She took a step toward him,
showing no fear. “Only a fool would take me on . . .
alone
.”
The man straightened and smiled. “Perhaps you
would rather fight Shandira? The odds would be quite different in
that
battle.” Then he turned and ran after his fleeing
partner.
Kira still held the keys in her hand, unable
to move and completely mesmerized by the strength of the girl who’d
fought two large men on her own. She had to be Lydia—the proof was
in her clothes and the thick blonde braid that hung down the length
of her back. What threw her was the accent and transformation to
the girl’s face—to her eyes.
“Lydia?” Kira said cautiously.
The girl’s back was to her when she spoke.
“They cannot escape. If word gets back to Shandira . . .” She
paused for a moment, as if trying to catch her breath. “Wait for me
in the car.” Then she took off after them.
“
No!
” Kira yelled, then jumped to her
feet. She held the keys so tight, they pinched the inside of her
hand. She wanted to get as far away as she could, but how could she
leave Lydia? How could she just abandon her with those men running
around out there? Then Kira remembered the girl’s face and doubt
returned. What had she seen? Was it her crazy imagination playing
tricks on her mind again? It had to be. She knew the girl was
Lydia. Every ounce of her being knew it.
Kira took one more look at the hood of the
car through the bushes. Lydia could obviously take care of herself,
she’d just seen her fight like a freakin’ ninja. What could Kira
possibly do to help? But then she heard a blood-curdling scream
that sent chills up the length of her spine. At first she thought
it was Lydia, but when it came again it sounded more like the cry
of a wild animal.
“Crap!” Kira tucked the keys in her pocket
and started toward the bridge. She followed their earlier path,
praying one of the men hadn’t circled around to catch her alone.
When she entered the small clearing near the creek, she heard a
man’s voice cursing and yelling in the distance. Kira swallowed
hard, forcing herself to go against that voice in her head that
told her to escape, to get as far away from danger as she
could.
Still trembling, Kira managed to make her
feet move forward, trying desperately not to think about what she
would find or what had made that hideous sound.
“Lydia!”
“Kira, get out of here! Go back!” Lydia’s
voice cried out, and relief flooded Kira’s heart. She ignored the
warning, crossed the bridge and wound through the overgrown bushes
crowding the narrow path.
“Lydia, where are you?” A long moment passed
before Kira caught a glimpse of Lydia’s beige sweater. She pushed a
few branches aside to let her through, only to be horrified by the
sight. Lydia held her left arm pressed against her blood-soaked
side—a bloody knife trembling in her hand.
“You can’t be here. You have to go back,”
Lydia said with a shaky voice. “Take my car to your house and I’ll
get it later.”
“Don’t be stupid—I’m not leaving you. You’re
hurt.”
“I never should’ve brought you here,” she
continued as if Kira hadn’t spoken. “It’s too dangerous. I don’t
know what I was thinking. You have to go.” She looked into Kira’s
eyes. “You can’t help me. Please, go home.”
When Kira still refused to leave, Lydia
finally gave in. She leaned heavily on Kira’s arm for support as
they made their way back across the bridge and found a tree stump
for Lydia to rest on. Lydia peeled her hand away enough to expose
her blood-soaked sweater.
“Oh, Lydia. We need to get you to the
hospital. Do you think you can make it to the car?” Kira stepped
closer to help her stand, but Lydia refused.
“No, I can’t go to the hospital.” Tears
filled Lydia’s eyes. “You’re gonna be so . . . mad at me. I wanted
to tell you. I swear I did.”
“Mad at you? What are you talking about? This
wasn’t your fault.” Kira leaned over and tried to pull Lydia’s arm
away to get a better look. “Let go so I can see.”
Lydia shoved Kira back so hard she almost
lost her footing. Lydia’s eyes surged from green to icy-blue and
back again.
“Do
not
touch me,” Lydia said with
that voice that was far from her own. Still holding the knife in
her hand, she threw it so the blade stuck in the dirt next to
Kira’s foot. The handle wobbled back and forth, vibrating against
the rubber sole of her shoe.
Kira stepped back and sat on a small boulder
across from Lydia. Her stomach twisted into knots. Nothing made
sense. “What just happened? You’re eyes . . . and back by the car
you looked . . .
different
.”
“I’m sorry,” Lydia said. “You weren’t
supposed to see that.”
“See what?”
Lydia took in a quivering breath before
sliding off the stump and onto the ground, resting her back against
the weathered bark. She rubbed her forehead with the tips of her
fingers. “I don’t have time to explain.”
Kira’s stomach crept into her throat and the
spine chilling sensation she’d felt before returned. “What the
hell’s going on, Lydia?”
Lydia reached down the front of her shirt and
pulled out her ruby pendant—a family heirloom Kira knew she
cherished more than anything else. Lydia closed her eyes and rubbed
the stone with her thumb.
The air around them grew heavy and breathing
it in felt like sucking mud through a straw. The skin on Kira’s
arms tingled, and thick silence settled around them. Nothing moved,
not even the leaves that only seconds before seemed alive in the
slight breeze. It was as if she’d been frozen in time—feeling
nothing—except for the foreboding sensation that an unfamiliar
force had completely consumed her.
Lydia’s pain-filled expression melted away,
leaving relief in its place. She reached out with her free hand and
sighed. “Octavion, I should have listened to you. I’m so
sorry.”
A large figure brushed past Kira creating a
blast of warm air that knocked her off her rock and onto the
ground. The sudden movement lifted the heaviness that surrounded
her and returned her senses, but it didn’t erase her fears. She
pulled herself up to sit on the rock, cringing when the muscles in
her side tensed.
Next to Lydia, a young man knelt on one knee,
examining her wound. From the back, he was a vast expanse of lean
muscle. He wore dark brown leather pants tucked into a brown pair
of boots that went almost to his knees. Thin strips of leather
wound around them, cinching them to his calves. His shirt was . . .
well, he really wasn’t wearing a shirt, but rather a leather vest
that fit snug against his bronzed skin. He didn’t look much older
than her, maybe nineteen or twenty.
Kira froze when he rounded on her, the rage
in his eyes frightening. She glanced down at the knife sticking out
of the ground at her feet and without thinking, plucked it from the
dirt, and thrust the trembling blade in his direction. No way was
she cowering this time, not with Lydia injured. It was up to her to
protect them now.
“Stop!” Lydia screamed.
Her plea went unanswered as his focus shifted
to the bloody weapon, then back to Kira. “
You
did this?”
With one fluid motion, he turned, picked her up by the front of her
jacket and slammed her back against a tree, knocking the breath out
of her. He took her knife by the blade and pitched it into a nearby
stump. With one hand knotted in the folds of her jacket, holding
her up, he tightened the other around her throat.
“Why?” he roared as a rumbling growl escaped
his chest. “She trusted you!” The pupils of his deep blue eyes
widened to large, round orbs of black surrounded by tiny threads of
yellow—like a wild cat.
Kira opened her mouth to speak, but only a
strained gasp came out. Lowering his chin, Octavion brought his
cat-like eyes even closer. His warm breath washed over her as she
tried to inhale, but the only air she drew in was his scent—a
woodsy musk that seemed strangely familiar.
“Octavion!” Lydia cried. “Put Kira down—it
wasn’t her.”
He growled again, only this time it seemed
more out of frustration than anger. A lock of chestnut hair fell
over his face as he loosened his grip and lowered Kira to the
ground. “Do not move.” His voice held the same accent Lydia’s had
when she changed.