Authors: Linda Gayle
The
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and the brothers working together? Dylan squawked and hissed. This was terrible news indeed.
Arum laid a calming hand on his head. “I know what you must be thinking, Cameron, but this is the dawn of a new age for the church. The
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has a vision, one in which the church will once again be a respected authority, no longer the gelded laughingstock of a liberal world. The people have forgotten who we are, what power we wield. Our plan will rectify that situation. And your offspring is essential to that plan.”
“Why not just ask him for the egg?” Dylan pressed. “I mean, he’s got to lay it sometime, right? Jesus, I can’t believe I just said that.”
“Time is of the essence. We’re heavily opposed by those who want to maintain the status quo, the impotent fools.” He shook his head. “We want to save your offspring. Take him far from here, let him grow up into whatever it is he’ll be. You must give us the egg. For safekeeping.”
Cam listened with a heavy heart. Hope for his own survival died with Arum’s words. Clearly, Arum had been playing both sides, pretending to be an honest brother with the church, while conspiring with the
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behind their backs. Cam couldn’t fight them all on his own. At least he needed to try to save Dylan and their egg, even if it meant going along with Arum’s plan for now. He chirruped softly to encourage Arum to continue. The monk stroked his feathers. “I would have done it quickly, without pain. I have no wish to make you suffer, Cameron.”
“The fuck you don’t!” Dylan went rigid with outrage. “You brought him here to cut him open like a Thanksgiving turkey and take what isn’t yours. What about me? It’s my egg too. Right?”
Cam’s heart swelled with pride at Dylan’s courage. If he didn’t think it might make Dylan accidentally uncover his eyes, he’d wrap his wings around him right now.
“You are the father,” Arum confirmed. “The first mating between human and trice since Alistair and his creature. Yet we’re not sure what might come of it. Something…wonderful.”
“Well, you can’t have it.” Dylan stepped toward him, eyes still covered. “That’s my kid in there, and you got no right.”
Cam lifted his head and ruffled his wings. Damn, even he’d underestimated Dylan. Arum’s mouth pursed. “Cameron, despite your mate’s misplaced bravado, you know what I’m saying is true. However, I’ll offer you an option. Allow us to take the egg. In return, Dylan’s life will be spared. He’s only a human, and there are six billion of those. It’s likely he’ll be lost in the crowd. However, if his identity should be discovered and your enemies turn on him, I give you my word that we’ll protect him.”
Indeed, both groups were ruthless. There was no guarantee either would spare a mere human who happened to father what could perhaps be a new breed of monster with skills to serve a new master. If laying down his life ensured the survival of his son and his lover, then how could Cam say no?
Dylan had groped his way over to him and now stood by his side, bunching one fist in Cam’s feathers while he kept his other hand over his eyes. Cam closed his own eyes, turned his beaked head, and nuzzled Dylan, who reached up and petted him blindly. “Fucking unbelievable, man,” Dylan muttered. “But whatever. I’m not gonna let these bastards hurt you.”
Brave words. But Dylan had no idea what the brothers were capable of. It was Cam’s responsibility to protect him and their son, no matter what. Looking back at Arum, he made a chirp of assent.
Dylan wasn’t sure what happened, but suddenly Liam had him by the arms again and was dragging him away. “Hey, you fucker! Leave me alone!” But the guy had him in some kind of hold he couldn’t break and hauled him toward the far side of the chamber.
“Liam, bring the hood and the rifle.”
Pain radiated up Dylan’s arm as Liam twisted it, then shoved him down hard in the dirt. The monk ripped off the goggles that covered his own eyes and shook a finger down at Dylan. “Stay here, or I’ll have no choice but to render you unconscious.”
Shit. He could do it too. With a lingering glance, Liam walked over to a rifle propped against the wall. It wasn’t the tranquilizer gun either, but a big one that looked like it meant business. He reached into a dark blue duffle bag that blended with the shadows and produced a leather something or other. There was also a crate about the size of a big cat carrier, which he left. Maybe that was what they planned to carry the egg off in. Checking Dylan over his shoulder with a stony glare, Liam returned to Arum, who stood with his hand still on Cam’s head.
Dylan thought his heart would rip right out of his chest. They were gonna kill him after all. Cut out that egg, steal it, and probably kill Dylan too. He wasn’t stupid. He knew a lie when he heard one, and Arum had told Cam whatever he thought would get him to cooperate. Now Arum fastened the leather hood over Cam’s eyes, and that strange rooster noggin sagged pitifully to the ground, the tip of his beak in the dirt, the wings spread like limp shadows around him.
“It’s like hooding a hawk,” Arum said conversationally, no doubt for Dylan’s edification. “You’ll see now, he’s quite subdued.” He moved to Cam’s side, tucked in his wings, and eased him onto his side. It just about killed Dylan to see Cam roll over, like he was already dead. Definitely resigned to his fate.
He licked his dry lips. “Why d’ya have to do this? Give him time, he’ll lay the damned thing himself.”
“We don’t have the hours it would take. Besides, if he’s left alive, others would destroy him and the egg, without hesitation, to thwart our vision.” Arum gestured, and Liam stood by with the rifle. “At least this way, your offspring will survive.”
“He’s nothing but an animal to you, is he?” While Arum positioned Cam, Dylan folded up his legs to hide his movements and fished the cell phone out of his pocket. He’d managed to grab it while Liam was getting his goggles in place.
“As he is in the eyes of God. He’s a useful animal, though. There’s no shame in that. Your son will serve the church as his father did, but as a symbol of the Lord’s wrath.”
“Not if the other brothers get hold of you first.”
“With your son on our side, we can overthrow the old establishment. It’s time for a shake-up. The church has lost her way in many respects. Become impotent.” He began ruthlessly plucking feathers from Cam’s belly again. Cam’s legs twitched and trembled with every yank, but he didn’t lift his head from the floor.
Looking down at the cell phone in his lap, Dylan found Cam’s contacts. There was just one. Tash. Their only hope. He glanced up to find Liam peering at him. He dropped the phone and grabbed his knees—nothing to see here.
Arum knelt and fussed around in his briefcase. “We’ve lived in shadows too long. The church has become nearly irrelevant. Your offspring will be instrumental in regaining her former glory. The respect and even fear she once wielded.”
Dylan curled his lip. “I don’t think people are gonna be too afraid of a big chicken.”
“They would be of a dragon.”
Dragon? Even Liam seemed surprised at that, switching his stare to Arum, which gave Dylan the moment he needed to text Tash:
Arum killing Cam Marley Street sewer under bridge
He prayed Tash was nearby. Their townhouse was less than two miles from here. If Tash knew where the Marley Street bridge was, maybe they had a chance. Assuming Tash would be on their side, of course. Shit, he hoped he wasn’t just making things worse. Maybe Tash was in on this whole thing.
He looked up again just in time to catch an exchange between Arum and Liam. “If he fights, shoot him. But not before I get the egg. Any thrashing might damage it, and we need his soul infusing it until the very last minute.”
Liam lifted the rifle. “Are you sure he’s ready?”
“Yes.” He pressed his hands over Cam’s plucked abdomen. “Just since he’s been in his true form, the shell has thickened.”
A strange, sad whiffling noise came from Cam, and his tail gave one flick against the floor. Dylan’s hands had gone cold from trembling. He could not let this happen. But how to get past Liam’s gun and buy them enough time for Tash to arrive?
If only Cam would fight. But it seemed like all the fight had gone out of him.
The tranquilizer rifle was only a couple of feet away. And there were four exits to choose from. He knew the one he wanted because it was opposite the lantern, but any one of them would do in a pinch.
He leaned over slowly to grab the rifle.
“Get the crate, Liam,” Arum said, which made Liam look over in Dylan’s direction.
He sat back up quickly. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of his face. Liam stared hostilely as he strode over and got the crate. “Don’t. Move,” he admonished with another stab of his finger.
“Where else would I go?” Dylan said with a caustic smile. “Fucktard,” he muttered, loud enough to make Liam glare back at him. He’d enjoy seeing that guy turned to stone, or whatever a cockatrice’s eyes would do to him.
As soon as Liam bent to set the crate down next to Arum, Dylan started to reach again—only to freeze at the sound of a growl. “Shit, not you too?”
Arum’s dog had recovered enough from his beating to limp over and snarl at him. “Hey, Arum, wanna call off your mutt?”
“Leave him,” Liam advised. “He can keep an eye on our guest.”
“Guest. Asshole,” Dylan grumbled. The dog’s head was wet with blood. Normally, he loved dogs and this would have enraged him, but in this case, he was willing to make an exception. To the dog, he muttered, “If you’re not with me, you’re against me.” He lunged for the rifle.
The dog barked. Liam shouted. Arum’s head came up. Only Cam didn’t move as Dylan swept up the rifle, which he had absolutely no idea how to use. Oh, except for this—he battered the dog’s head with the butt end as it lunged for him, and the shepherd ran away, yelping, and disappeared into one of the tunnels.
“Shoot him, Liam!” Arum commanded. The rifle boomed.
Dylan leapt forward just as chips of cement flew off behind him. Liam took aim at him again. Dylan dodged and bolted toward a tunnel. Swerved to make Liam miss, which he did, exploding another chunk of wall. “Cam!” he screamed.
But Cam was already up, shrieking like a prehistoric nightmare, clawing at the hood with his scaly foot. Arum raised the knife to plunge it into Cam’s throat.
“Cam, move!” Ignoring the leveling of Liam’s rifle, Dylan dashed toward Cam to shove him out of the way. Cam hopped to his right, collided with Dylan, who rolled over Cam’s back, blindly thudding to the floor. Landing at Liam’s feet, he looked up into the monk’s furious face. Liam turned the rifle around to bash Dylan’s skull in. A claw swiped out and scored the monk across the chest. Liam cried out, staggered, and fell.
Arum began chanting. Latin again. Whatever he said, Dylan didn’t know, but he sat up to see Cam shaking his hooded head, screeching as if the words burned him. “Obey!” Arum commanded in English. “You are a lowly servant! You have no will beyond the will of your master. Obey and submit, filthy creature. You are an abomination in the eyes of God. Repent and serve!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Dylan grabbed up the crate and heaved it at Arum’s head. It hit the monk and smashed open, knocking him backward. Soil exploded, and toads, of all things, rained over the ground. He had only a second to gape before Liam grabbed him from behind. Dylan gripped Liam’s arms, hip-checked him, and sent him sailing over his head. “Hey! It worked!”
He glanced up at Cam, who still yowled and clawed at the hood. Dylan ran over and grabbed his head. “It’s me, baby. I’ll get it off.” He got his fingers under one edge of the leather just as Cam pulled back, and the hood ripped off. Cam spun, knocking Dylan aside—just in time. Dylan remembered the deadly eyes and focused on Liam instead, who had taken a running step toward them.
Neck extended, foot-long iridescent feathers bristling and erect, Cam stretched his neck and hissed. It’d be a million years before Dylan forgot the strangled scream that tore from Liam’s throat. The monk keeled over, dead as a doornail.
“Liam!” Blind or not, Arum knew the score. “Cameron,” he said, his tone rife with desperation, “you know you’ll be hunted. I am your son’s last chance for survival. And your lover’s. I told you we would spare him!”
Cam shook his terrible mane of feathers and stomped toward the monk with measured steps, wicked claws curling, then splaying on the floor.
Arum held up his hands. “You will die, and your offspring and your mate with you. There’s still time. There’s still a chance.”
Not for Arum. With a swipe of his tail, Cam jabbed the barb in his tail deep into Arum’s chest. The monk grabbed it with both hands, his mouth gaping. Then Cam yanked it out, and the man fell down. Dead as dirt.
A warbling cry rippled from Cam’s throat, one of such sorrow and remorse that Dylan clapped his hands over his ears. Which was why he almost missed the entrance of Tash, jumping in from the sewer tunnel.
The big, leather-jacketed man stopped, took one horrified look around, pushed his dark glasses onto the top of his head, and said, “My God, Cameron. What have you done?”
Chapter Eighteen
“There was no other way.” Dylan held up his hands and backpedalled rapidly as Tash strode toward him, fists balled into white-knuckled weapons. At least the guy had the wherewithal to drop his dark glasses down again. Monster or no, Dylan had a feeling the anger in those eyes would burn him.
“Who are you?” Tash backed him into a wall, bunched his hands in the front of Dylan’s hoodie and slammed him up against the stone a couple of times.
Cam warbled and dipped his head. It was enough to get Tash’s attention. “Cameron, where’s your collar? What’s happened here?”
With a soft wheeze, the cockatrice collapsed to the ground, and Tash left Dylan to run to him. He dropped to his knees. One hand on Cam’s heaving side, Tash whipped his head toward Dylan again. “What have you done to him?”
“Me? I didn’t do nothing. It was them. They were trying to steal his egg.”
“Egg?” Tash ran his hands over Cam’s belly. “God in heaven, he’s gravid. How?”
“Errr…”