Troll-y Yours (10 page)

The crack of a rifle’s rapport rang out and she stumbled, torn whether or not to go back. Her heart pounded with indecision.

Al! Please, let him be alive.

Interlocked branches opened, creating gateways of unobstructed paths. Behind her, the trees relaced their limbs. The Wood Nymph action covered her trail of escape and effectively blocked thoughts of returning to help Al.

Panic nipped her heels, and while blinded by tears, she ran.

Thirteen

F
rom his prone position atop the belligerent human, Alek glanced at Ella’s jean-clad ass as she ran from the shack. Feet flying, she hardly touched the debris littered floor. Relief coursed through him. For once she chose to not stick around and argue. He returned his attention to countering blows and dodging anvil-tough fists.

Cold, hard, and twice as deadly as a copperhead, the hunter’s rifle lay pinned between their struggling bodies. The wooden stock struck his cheek repeatedly, but Alek wasn’t worried about that part. He was more concerned with the end pointing down, the side with the bullet-sized orifice that kept him fighting to prevent the human’s hand near the trigger.

He gave the man credit. For a human, he was strong.

“Son of a bitch! Get off me. She’s getting away,” the hunter grunted out between clenched teeth. He kicked his legs, scrabbling to switch their positions.

That’s the idea, you bastard.

The human arched, bridging his back.

“Shut the hell up.” Alek used his elbow to punch the male on the chin. “Give up your weapon.”

They struggled, each working hand over hand to gain control over the rifle. When Aleksander lifted his arm to deliver another blow, the hunter reached up and snuck in a punch of his own. Unprepared for the strike that rattled his cage, Alek’s grip loosened for an instant.

“Fuck you.” The human slid his free hand up the stock toward the trigger. “I ain’t giving nothing up. Not my gun.” He shoved harder, his hand slid further. “And not my prize!”

The crack of the rifle shot deafened in the close quarters of the hut.

At first, there was no sensation at all except for the feeling of impact. Fighting on borrowed time, Alek used his forearm like a battering ram and got off some hardcore face bashes before a burning fire erupted from his upper thigh.

A century and a half ago, arrows pierced his leg and back. While he lay bleeding on the ground, a Wood Nymph warrior had raised his sword to finish him off. The fight to live kicked in and he had tried to roll out of reach, but the enemy’s sword laid him open from the back of the thigh to the front. Though gravely injured, Alek was able to raise his own weapon in time to save his life.

It was the same now as back then, Alek saw red. His vision narrowed on the human hunter and a need to eliminate the threat overrode all else. Basic Centaur military training and decades of war spewed from deep within. Instinct took over for his shock-filled brain. He swung with his fists, concentrating on hammering a hole into the hunter’s head with lightening fast blows.

The human fought back and countered bravely, though his slugs had no effect on Aleksander. A final cracking right cross, and it was lights out for the hunter.

Pan’s hooves! Maybe I should look into the easy life of a gigolo.

Alek rolled off the hunter and sat up, breathing heavy. Dirt from the floor covered him everywhere, and blood soaked his pants where the bullet ripped through the fleshy part of his upper thigh. When his eyes told his brain he’d been shot, the pain intensified.

“Aleksander.” Bomani peered around the draping of the camo netting. His worried eyes took in the human’s laid out body and Alek’s bloody leg. “How badly are you hit?”

“Unknown. Standby.” He refused to allow his hands to shake as he quickly worked snaps and the zipper, then tore off his tactical vest. For a bandage he was sure he’d need, Aleksander pulled his faded green t-shirt over his head.

Bomani clip-clopped inside and stood guard over the unconscious man. A smeared trail of red dripped down the smaller Centaur’s arm, but his injury was drying and on the mend.

Alek probed the hole in his pants and searched the moist, sticky area carefully. From his cursory tactile exploration, the bullet passed completely through the soft tissue of his inner thigh, completely missing the bone. “There seems to be an entrance and exit wound.”

“As gory as that may be, it’s actually good news.”

Alek grit his teeth against another wave of agonizing pain that popped sweat on his forehead. Spots danced before his eyes. He lifted his wrist to glance down at his watch. The dial swam and played Tilt-O-Whirl before settling down again. It was less than two hours before the transformation into his true form.

“The bleeding will stop when I transition, then I’ll be fine.” His damned human body healed so slowly. How that species survived was an evolutionary miracle. In his Centaur form, he healed at the accelerated mythic rate.

Bomani pawed the human none too gently in the head, then stepped to Aleksander’s side. “Let’s get you patched up.”

Together, they used the t-shirt as a field dressing to wrap his gunshot wound tight and staunch the trickle of blood.

Pain burned through his leg, and Alek hissed through his teeth. “Shit, that hurts.”

“What do we do with him?” Bomani tucked the tail end of the bandage under the wrapping and secured it in place.

Painful and sore, Alek tested his injured leg with a slight movement. “He saw enough of Ella to want to hunt her, and now you in your true form. Queen Savella’s ordered mercy at every opportunity.” While he understood the reasoning, leniency was often construed as weakness. “Help me up.” He set his hand on Bomani’s wide withers and with the male’s help, he maneuvered to a standing position.

“I’m not saying Her Majesty is out of touch,” Bomani replied. “But if she wants to mandate an order of clemency, then maybe this slug bait should be
her
problem, not ours.”

“Releasing him is out of the question.”

Beneath the manicured beard, the smaller Centaur grew a cunning smile.

“And so is killing him,” Alek quickly added.

Bomani dropped the grin and adjusted his scabbard’s belt with hard twisting pulls.

They both glanced at the hunter who groggily dragged his boot against the dirty floor. He was coming around, and they needed to decide his fate—quick.

Alek rubbed his goatee, then stopped when he remembered his blood covered hand. “We take him with us.”

“To the palace?” Bomani’s lifted brows disappeared into his hairline, his incredulity clear.

Yeah, it was a ridiculous idea. Plus, Kempor Hippolyte was sure to go completely Minotaur on him, but time had run out and a decision had to be made.

Alek nodded. “Yep. Let’s tie him up and drag him along.”

“Can I thump him unconscious? He fucking shot at me.”

Through his pain, and worry for Ella, Aleksander smiled. “Sure, go ahead. And give him one for me.”

*~*~*

Aleksander limped toward a vibrant clump of yarrow, the yellow flowers shone achingly bright against new grass shoots that sprouted over the slope like a mantle of green fur. Trees framed the area in an uneven edge.

Farther up the rise, Bomani turned toward him and snapped a smart salute, then proceeded to direct the recently arrived troop of Centaur soldiers carrying the unconscious human on a stretcher. The right-place, right-time male’s flaxen tail held a proud arch and swung in accordance to his marching steps. Under Alek’s order, the Centaur would escort the hunter to the palace and place him in custody until Savella came to a decision with his destiny.

Soldier’s Woundwart—that’s what Rhycious called the vibrant gold plant. Aleksander kept the weight on his good leg and reached down. He picked a handful of leaves and using both hands, crushed the feathery-leafed plant as Rhycious, the Royal Remedy Maker, taught him, releasing the essential oils.

It took him a moment to loosen the wrap and stuff the mashed leaves on both sides of the bullet wound under his bandage. Pain sucked the breath out of him and detonated his inflamed nerve endings, causing an atomic blast to rip through his leg. Behind his tightly clamped teeth, an agonized moan slipped free. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his vision swam.

The natural antiseptic value of yarrow would help stem the flow of blood. Through a throat rough and dry from gasping, Alek forced himself to breathe through the raw agony while taking short puffs of air.

A burst of squawking birds flew up from some low-lying bushes, and seconds later a six-point whitetail buck wandered from the tree line. It dipped its great antlered head and seemed to gaze at him from an angle. When Aleksander straightened from his bent position, the deer bounded away, into the harlequin shadows of the forest.

After two centuries of war and fighting in the Boronda Forest, Alek knew nearly every inch of the habitable mythic land. Three hours march time to the east, housed the impenetrable Centaur palace. Two hours uphill and north, Boronda Falls. Rhycious’ cabin at the edge of the southern woods stood a good three-hour gallop away.

What he didn’t know vexed him the most.

Where was Ella?

*~*~*

Crap and double crap!
A living maze. Branches constantly moved, formed twists and turns…and Ella slowed to a fast walk.

The Wood Nymphs creeped her out with their snake-like tree movements. She pushed against the iron-tough network of interlocked branches, trying to forge a path away from where the wooden limbs directed her, and was smartly spanked on the ass.

“Hey! Watch it.” Unless she wanted more Nymph warriors who were into BDSM to paddy whack her butt, the best choice was to keep moving. “Will you guys let me out of here to check on Kempor Aleksander?”

Ella shoved her hair out of her eyes and followed the bizarre interchanging path the Wood Nymphs set her on. Where it led, she hoped they knew. It seemed like she was traveling in circles, and for all she knew, she very well could be. With a deep breath and clenched jaw, she pressed on.

A tree growing at an angle lay in her way. After throwing her leg over to climb past, she swore the log raised itself higher mid-slide.
Nymphs have one thing on their mind, no matter the circumstance.

Whispered laughter, no louder than a breeze, skimmed invisibly through shimmering fronds. Then, the sound broke apart and floated away, as if it had never been.

A buckeye tree blocked the end of Ella’s path with five-finger flames of large reddish-brown leaves. Low hanging boughs, heavy with chestnuts, swayed in the motionless air.

A Wood Nymph soldier awaiting his orders?
Perhaps. Whatever the order, or the decision, the limbs on one side lifted, filling the air with the creak of bending wood.

Ella eyed the brightly colored tree for a moment before ducking her head and scurrying under the limb. Once through to the other side, the limb released and a rush of air blew past. She pushed her hair behind her shoulders and looked around.

A small, irregular shaped clearing fronted a massive boulder outcrop. Dark grey granite on both sides with white quartz shot through the middle.

Her Troll eyes appreciated the beauty and she stepped closer.

High above, at the top of the rock ledge, a river birch with silvery leaves grew, spreading its lower branches to drape like a summer shawl over the boulder.

Ella extended her senses, searching the ground beneath her feet.

Empty.

Why wouldn’t someone live in this gorgeous home? Shaking her head, she used her hand to shade her eyes and searched the sky for the sun. She could neither smell nor hear the Boronda stream from where she stood, and this sector of the forest wasn’t familiar.

A twig snapped and Ella swiveled her pointed Troll ears. Footfalls stepped in her direction with an offbeat pattern and caused mental alarm bells to sound. Visions of the human hunter rose to frightening heights, and she glanced around quickly for her options.

Climb the steep boulder, or dive into the brush?

Not relishing the thought of hot-to-trot Wood Nymphs using their lateral branches to feel up her boobs, she opted for the vertical climb. Her gaze crawled up the rock wall, gauging foot and handholds along the way.

Or dare I twirl into the empty den behind this wall?

A quick dissolve beneath the Earth’s crust. . .nobody would know. She wouldn’t touch a thing and she wouldn’t stay long.

Chills skittered up her spine. Like a horror movie, the stomp and drag drew closer. Her heart beat faster and Ella squeezed her eyes shut. She concentrated on delving below layers of soil, separating herself into droplets of light and energy. Warmth grew from her feet and rose up her shins, past her knees.

She lifted her arms to start the spin that would ensure her dissolve—

“Ella!”

Fourteen

“N
ot only is she worthless, your daughter is a tramp! Stephen, you need to do something about her.”

Eli instantly bristled upon waking to the shrill tone of his mother’s voice.
Pan’s cloven hooves! Does the sow know of no other way to speak?
He thought of pulling the warm blankets over his head but knew from experience, it would do no good. Awake now, after only—he glanced at his watch—four hours of sleep, his mother’s rant would continue until she lost steam.

In other words, this could go on for days.

“She’s hopeless, utterly hopeless.” Dishes in the cooking room rattled as if tossed on the stone countertop. “Praise the mythic gods for Eli. How can two cubs from the same womb be so different?”

“Keep the sod on the roof, Judith. You’ll wake the boy. He worked last night, you know.”

Too late for that, Dad.
Eli rolled to sit on the edge of the bed, his erection nudging his flat belly. He fisted himself, then thought better of it—there’d be no happy ending with all the ruckus going on outside his bedroom door.

Always cold and slightly damp, the floor beneath his bare feet sent chills skittering up his legs as he walked to his closet and pulled open the bi-fold doors.
Poor Ella, she could never catch a break with the folks.
As the eldest child, they ought to concentrate on her more than him. His erection deflated with the thought.

He reached inside, pulled a shirt off a hanger, and stuffed his arms through the sleeves. Ella was neither hopeless nor a tramp, but there’d be no convincing his mother of that once her tirades began. As a result of their parents’ butt kissing his ass for so many years, now he was a bad guy, too. Didn’t matter if he meant well or not.

A mental checklist of things to do crowded his tired brain, and he yawned while tugging on his jeans. After lacing his boots, he left the privacy of his bedroom and entered the fracas of the family nest.

“Good morning, sweetie. I hope your father didn’t wake you.” Sugary sweet, his mother greeted him with a plate of bacon and eggs.

“Uh, no. Dad didn’t wake me.” Eli glanced at his father, who sat hidden behind a three-week-old newspaper. “And thanks for the food, but I don’t have time to eat.”

“Don’t have time…why?”

“Judith, leave the boy alone.”

“It’s my cooking, isn’t it? Eli wait, I’ll make you something else.” She dropped the plate on the table in front of his father.

Eli grabbed his leather jacket off the hall tree and stood under the front rock. “You cook just fine. I—I have a breakfast meeting I’m late for.”

“Did you hear that, Stephen? Eli has as breakfast meeting.”

“Yes, dear. Very proud of him.”

His mother patted her reddish mane in place, pushing at the silver threads woven into her frizzy mixture. “Unlike Ella, who didn’t bother to fix her hair before she—”

Eli hooked the toe of his boot in the dirt and spun a revolution, dissolving away from the negative energy of his parents and refracting in the pure forest air. He didn’t blame Ella for wanting to leave. Hell,
he
wanted to move away, and he was the one they fawned over.

It was all a bunch of scattered gravel anyway. Not once had his parents asked where he worked, or for whom.
Sonofabitch,
it irked him that they never asked what he did for a living. It had to make one wonder—did they really even care?

The worn jacket slipped on easily, and Eli inhaled the familiar scent of leather. He flipped up the collar against the morning chill and set off, walking alongside the stream to hike off-trail. Mist blew in sparkling patches from the cascading water and helped wake him up.

Long dark hair shimmered in unseen currents beneath a smooth pocket of water. Hope swam beside him, mouthing words he couldn’t understand, her blue eyes frowning. His mother must have thrown rocks at her again for coming too close to their shoreline. She lifted a finger out of the water and pointed up the trail.

Eli shook his head. “I’m headed upstream.”

She swam a circle and splashed water at him, gesturing toward the trailhead.

“I don’t have time today, Hope. We’ll talk later.” Seriously, the pretty Water Nymph could mouth words for hours, and he didn’t have the time or energy to sit on the bank to lip-read this morning. Eli waved good-bye and turned to climb the faint trail leading away from the stream.

He figured he’d stakeout Phranq’s place for a few hours and observe who or what came and went. It was time to venture closer to the Minotaur, time to infiltrate and get involved.

Pennelope expected his report tomorrow and no way in hell would he let her down. In order to advance in rank, Eli needed to prove himself as a worthy undercover agent.

Water splashed and hit the back of his shoulder, but he kept hiking, heading toward his morning destination.

*~*~*

Aleksander all but poked his eye out from the clawing thorns of a honey locust tree while pushing a branch aside. “Ella!”

Relief washed over him and momentarily took away the pain in his leg. In all her dirt-grimed glory, hair wild and willful, Ella’s shocked expression was a beautiful sight.

She stood frozen with a foothold on the side of the boulder and seemed ready to climb out of there.

“Al—for the love of Pan, what in
Tartarus
happened to your leg?” Ella dropped her sneaker to the ground and came closer, her eyes never leaving his injury.

Having her heated stare at a spot near his crotch made
Meat Wrench
come tingling to life. Alek glanced down, certain he was sporting a tent. Dry blood caked his makeshift bandage.

He grimaced and supposed it did look gruesome. Lucky for him, there was no telltale bulge, so he took a deep breath and relaxed. “I got shot.”At Ella’s gasp of horror, he quickly added, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’d say better than you.” Though, her words were sarcastic as ever, the underlying bite wasn’t there.

“I’ll need to dress my wound, could you help me?”

Uncertain, Ella bit her lower lip. She looked apprehensive and slightly green. But by the gods and all that’s mythic, his little Troll bucked herself up. Chin raised, her determined eyes met his. “What do you need me to do?”

A grin pulled at the corners of Alek’s lips. He limped to her side and reached for her hand. “Let’s go inside first.”

Ella looked around. Confusion knitted her brows. “Inside where?”

Aleksander hobbled closer to the giant boulder and stood where Ella had climbed down moments before. Alongside of the rock, he traced his fingers over a vertical crack and stopped at an innocuous piece of grey stone that jutted out at an angle.

Temptation too strong and relief too great, he kissed her check and pushed down on the lever. Spring-loaded, the rock face popped ajar. Alek hesitated a moment, taking in the sounds of the forest around them. He filtered through the different tones and not finding any signs of danger, opened the door.

“Holy hooves of Bacchus.” Ella’s breathy words of awe came from beneath his uplifted arm. “How did you know this was here?”

“It belongs to a friend of mine.” One of Nubbs’ safe houses used for underground activities, but Alek didn’t see a need to make a full disclosure. If ever there was a time he and Ella needed to be safe, it was now.

Typical of a rock house built into the side of a hill, a short carpeted incline connected the front door to the foyer. It’d been decades since Alek was last here and by the look of things, little had changed. The same worn-out furniture, decorated the same patches of dirt.

Dreary and colorless…but safe.

“Let’s go.” Alek motioned for Ella to step inside, but she hung back, again biting her bottom lip. He tried another approach. “True, this is the Centaur way in. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll close the door and you can dissolve under the rock.”

Let her try and say no to my macho charisma.
Aleksander waggled his brows and smiled his charming smile, showing all his even white teeth.

“Stop it. You look like a hissing possum.” Ella gave him the once over and leaned closer to peek inside. “You sure it’s okay for us to be here?”

His smile faded.
A possum?
“Yeah, it’s not used anymore.”

He ran his tongue over his front teeth, feeling for anything possum-like. This female was like no other he’d ever met, it was as though she were immune to him.

With her back to him, Ella didn’t seem to notice his discomposure. Spine straightened and regal as a queen, she walked into the house as if she owned the place.

Baffled and treading on unknown ground, Aleksander followed her and shut the door behind them. The only thing he was one hundred percent sure of was the rounded globes of Ella’s butt that wiggled under her tight blue jeans.

Meat Wrench
noticed them too.