The Melier: Prodigal Son Page 7

  Massacre.

  The uproar of the cheering crowd clapping their hands and paws and stomping their feet, thumping their tails and clacking their talons, spikes, and pinchers—it distracted him.

  Camera drones buzzed through the air, catching every bit of the action—he squinted, wondering if they were for viewers who couldn’t attend. All of this snared his attention and he noticed the long, black, corded tail that came whipping toward him nearly too late.

  Val’Koy ducked at the very last nanosecond.

  Jruviin wasn’t so lucky.

  The tail made impact. A surprised grunt burst from Jruviin as he went flying. Val’Koy watched him get catapulted yards away.

  No!

  Val’Koy scrambled, noticing the weapons case beside the door was empty. His eyes roved the carnage, all hands moving through the squelching sludge below him until he grasped the handle of a weapon. A crude, heavy blade that weighed down his arm, the blade thicker, less refined than the lighter tools he was used to.

  Val’Koy took off in Jruviin’s direction.

  Again, the black-scaled beast, rotated on four paws, swung his tail, and again, Val’Koy ducked. The monster turned its long neck and roared. Webs of spittle and fleshy chunks expelled from its craggy jaws, riddled with uneven and overlapping triangular teeth, to fly through the air and over the butchered bodies.

  Val’Koy gulped back the urge to vomit when the sour stench of humid breath wafted to his nostrils.

  Its long neck swiveled back and forth, the smashed in face parting once more to roar while it lined up as if to charge.

  Val’Koy reached Jruviin, stained sand kicking up at his sudden stop. He positioned himself in front of the groaning Draekiin, fists gripping the hilt as he dared not turn his back on the beast. “Get up!” he shouted over his shoulder.

  The pathetic man didn’t move. Val’Koy’s harried gaze shot toward the beast that scraped its paws in the sand. He hadn’t dealt with creatures very often, but the challenge in the animal’s eyes wasn’t hard to read—it wanted blood.

  “Get up!” he hollered again, kicking Jruviin’s feathered leg.

  “Let me die,” he groaned, clutching his side and wincing.

  For a span of seconds, Val’Koy’s brain sputtered to a stop. Everything was moving too fast for him to process. Everything was so loud it pounded against his ears to fight for dominance over his hammering pulse.

  He didn’t have time to think. He ran. Ran toward the beast.

  His fear clashed with his anger. Anger and hatred for everything—himself, the fucking Drae, Vu’Mal’Su, and this beast that evoked a helpless feeling he despised.

  The creature startled as if it weren’t expecting to be challenged, but it was all the opening Val’Koy needed.

  He swung the bulky blade with great effort, adrenaline pumping through his body to help his shaky limbs lift and bring down the weapon.

  His blade met with the side of the beast’s corded neck, the layers of black hide so thick that the dull edge nearly got stuck. Val’Koy wrenched the sword away only to bring it down again and again, the frenzied hacking making his body burn with exertion.

  Claws swiped at him, jaws snapped repeatedly, as he narrowly avoided the creature’s foul teeth by dodging to the right. The sharp point of a crooked talon shred down the left side of his torso, ripping the skin. He shouted a cry of pain, hacking faster, blood spurting his chin and neck, spraying down his rough tunic.

  The monster’s movements slackened, and it collapsed, drawing a shaky last breath.

  Val’Koy sucked in air, oxygen seesawing in and out of his lungs as his knees hit the sand, body nearly overheating and vision swimming with blood that wasn’t his own.

  The heavy blade hit the ground with a thump, and he dragged the back of a hand across his brow to wipe the sticky fluid away.

  The cheering crowd lulled for a handful of seconds before it turned into a deafening clamor that vibrated against every nerve in his head.

  A horn blew.

  His head jerked up, eyes spotting gates opening on the far end. To his dismay, a new beast galloped into the arena, skidding to a stop and scenting the air.

  No...

  Val’Koy’s eyes combed the bodies around him, his muscles seizing.

  It wasn’t just dead fighters that littered the arena, but beasts too. They—Hae’deth—were playing a sick game. How many fighters thought they’d won before another unexpected beast entered the arena?

  It didn’t matter how many he could defeat—sheer exhaustion would get him killed.

  This was meant to be a team battle. He couldn’t do this alone.

  A groan eked from him as he pushed to his feet and hauled up the blade, waning adrenaline carrying him as he leapt over bodies, bones, and guts.

  “Stand and fight with me,” he ordered the Drae who continued to lay there waiting to die.

  The beast cried, and Val’Koy looked over his shoulder, pulse jumping when it circled, pacing back and forth, eyes focused on the only two living beings on the sands.

  The thought of Dania and his son pushed into his mind. He couldn’t do this alone! And he wouldn’t sentence them to death.

  Val’Koy clenched his teeth at the unfamiliar emotion pushing through his body that had his knees bending into the sand. The sudden action pulled the attention of the Draekiin.

  “I...” Val’Koy swallowed, the muscles in his face going lax as he bit back the shame of such actions and... let go of his pride. “I beg you.” Voice hoarse, words squeezing from his throat. He’d never begged in his life, yet here he was, bent beside the deformed cousin of his people, doing just that. “Fight. If not for yourself then—” he wouldn’t say Dania’s name in the arena where the camera drones swiveled through the air, capturing everything, “—for them.”

  Jruviin frowned with consideration. He couldn’t know who Val’Koy meant, but he had to understand Val’Koy wasn’t there by choice or crime or love of death sport—he did this for someone else.

  The beast growled, the rough sound turning into a chilling shriek that stiffened Val’Koy’s tail. They both swiveled to glimpse the furred, six limbed mammal with yellow tufts of loose fuzz hanging from it. Its round maw opened, rows upon rows of black teeth winding down its throat, reminding him of an organic meat grinder.

  Val’Koy and Jruviin exchanged a glance, a silent pact almost forming.

  Jruviin shifted his weight into a lunge. He began to rise to his feet. “I will fight,” he rasped.

  A weight lifted from Val’Koy’s shoulders, his brow ridge raising. He fell into a fighting stance near his companion.

  A chance. He had a chance. They had a chance. A possibility of winning and surviving today.

  Jruviin picked up a discarded spear. Val’Koy shared a nod with Jruviin, confirming neither were alone anymore.

  As one, they faced the beast.

  Together.

  ELEVEN

  SIX MONTHS LATER...

  DANIA

  “Hello?” The pink eggs sat on the kitchen counter, waiting to be cracked open and cooked. She’d just gotten in, after a long ass night at the bar, when something caught her attention.

  Dania’s fingers wrapped around the closest thing—the handle of a frying pan.

  Silence greeted her.

  She peeked around the kitchen doorway and into the short hall.

  Nothing.

  The lights flickered on when the sensors detected her presence, as she checked the cleansing room and then her bedroom.

  Again, there was nothing. No one.

  I’m not crazy.

  She saw someone. She knew she did. Only a short glimpse, not enough to get any details, but there had been a figure that walked past the entrance to the kitchen.

  The kettle dinged, and Dania jumped, the pan bumping the wall. Her heart thundered, and she exhaled, trudging back to the kitchen.

  Nibbling her bottom lip, she placed the pan on the counter and stood there. Maybe she was just ex
hausted. Pulling these back-to-back shifts to cover the staff shortage was clearly starting to take its toll. That, or her apartment being burglarized for the second time last month left her paranoid.

  The burglars used hacking software to get past the outdated systems the building was now using. The security team was a fucking joke, yet the board refused to spend money to get the old firm back, despite after her many complaints. She couldn’t afford a lawyer to back up threats of legal action.

  They hadn’t stolen anything, but that wasn’t suspicious—she had nothing of monetary value, unless her bed counted. And what kind of thieves would steal a bed?

  Tomorrow, she had to start looking for a new place. This was way past nuts.

  5:23 AM read the clock.

  Forget first meal. She needed sleep.

  In a mere four hours, she’d have to be up and ready for the baby, Evvip. That little guy was a handful, and the perfect birth control. But if she were being honest, she enjoyed their time together.

  She had been watching him a few days a week for months while his mother, Ophinia—Rita’s sister—got some silence. The work helped to fill Dania’s days and, honestly, she could use the extra credits.

  She ran her fingers over the framed picture of him, his smoky blue skin perfectly captured. Her time with Evvip had taught Dania she might want to be a mother someday... if she ever found the right guy. It sat on a skinny shelf in her hallway beside the only other picture she had—one of her mom, dad, and grandparents.

  Her parents were off somewhere in the Herroluk Galaxy last time they called, about two months ago. Her dad had taken a job harvesting underwater vegetation used as a neurological stimulant. Apparently, it paid well according to her mom.

  Most people that didn’t have nomadic relatives wouldn’t understand how she could go weeks, sometimes months, without talking to her parents, but it was just a way of life she was accustomed to.

  Maybe once she found a new place, and saved up some funds, she’d buy a shuttle ticket and go visit her grandparents on Bocern.

  Dania pressed a kiss to the frame and headed to bed.

  ****

  “Have you seen it yet?”

  Dania stuffed her mouth full of popcorn, flipping through the networks on her projector. “I’m about to,” she mumbled around her snack, loudly crunching.

  Rita squealed. “You’re going to love it! Mik—”

  “Hey!” Her bestie was about to ruin it. “No spoilers!”

  “All right, all right,” she groaned. “I was just going to say... Mik is on fire this episode!”

  Mik... Dania’s favorite corrupt Vishik Guard, on a weekly network drama, sponsored by Dor Nye’s League One global news outlet. It was their first foray into scripted entertainment and god, it was good!

  “Call me when...”

  Dania stopped paying attention to Rita when movement caught her eye. An azure feathered, muscular arm ending in scarily long, curved, black talons waved around from the kitchen’s entryway like someone signaling another.

  Oh, shit! Oh, no!

  She snatched her comm off the coffee table and hit the floor, slinking behind the couch.

  “Dania? Dania?” Rita’s voice echoed. Dania’s pulse thrummed furiously in her ears and her chest ached with her held breath.

  Someone broke into her apartment.

  “Dania, what’s going o—”

  “I’m being robbed!” she whispered close to the comm.

  “Oh my god.” Rita’s voice dropped. “I’ll call the police! Don’t you dare disconnect.”

  She wanted to say thank you, but she couldn’t. It was hard to draw breath for fear of being discovered.

  They probably already knew she was there. She’d been talking to Rita for a good five minutes at least.

  How’d they get in? How did she not hear it? Why were they being so quiet now? They had to know she’d seen it—him.

  Her eyes darted to the door. She’d have to cross the room to get the hell out of there and they’d surely see her.

  Air escaped Dania as she tried to calm down, racing through her options.

  Fact: at least one of them—the feathered one—had claws that could slash her throat. Fact: she had no idea if they had weapons. Fact: she had no fucking clue what she was up against here. She’d never gotten a good look at them—just an arm covered in azure feathers that reflected an aquamarine sheen in the light.

  I’m toast.

  “Dania?”

  “Yeah?” Her voice was so low she didn’t think Rita would hear her.

  “Police are on their way.”

  Dania’s vision blurred, and she blinked away the moisture. In high-emotional situations, she had no control over her tear ducts.

  “Thank you, Rita.”

  “Can you see them? Can you get out?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t hang up.” Rita’s voice was breathy, like she was running. “I’m heading your way.” The sound of a horn blew. “Just keep it together. Everything will be all right.”

  Would it?

  A pounding on the door startled her, and she sprang up, sprinting across her living space. She hurriedly slapped her hand on the sensor and tore the door open, hands grasping at the security guard from the lobby. The police must’ve notified him.

  “Ms. Dennik?” he squawked, hands latching on to help steady her.

  Dania Dennik. That’s me.

  “They’re in there!” she frantically pointed. “In the kitchen!”

  Xelpho, the Prinnip security guard—a tall, lanky guy with two-toned gray and bronze skin and oversized pink eyes—pulled his electric baton and slowly entered her apartment.

  She watched from the hallway as he made his way around to her kitchen and stopped.

  “There’s no one here.”

  “Yes, there is,” Dania protested. “I saw him!”

  “I thought you said ‘they’?” he asked suspiciously.

  She stammered, “He was signaling someone else!”

  Xelpho’s thin lips pursed, and he slowly checked the rest of her apartment. By the time he was exiting her bedroom, the police had arrived. They, too, checked the apartment and found nothing.

  Dania was urged to sit down as two human cops pummeled her with questions.

  “I’m not on drugs.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure I’m not on drugs!” For the fifth time. She dropped her face into her hands. “They were here—he was here.” She wasn’t positive it was a male—non-humans didn’t always fit into strict gender roles—but she felt it in her gut. “He waved his hand like he was gesturing to someone else. His arm had blue feathers. And talons on his fingers, like a... a bird.”

  The cops shared a dubious glance, like they’d been doing since they got here and found her apartment empty.

  “I’m not making this up.”

  I’m not crazy.

  Dania’d been telling herself that since they first asked what medication she was on or if she had ingested any narcotics.

  “Listen, ma’am,” the pale skinned cop sighed and adjusted his collar, making her feel like an annoying, batshit crazy woman who regularly called the emergency line because she was starved for attention, “there are no signs of a break-in. You sure you’re not just tired?”

  “Of course, I’m tired!” she huffed, jerking upright. “But that has nothing to do with what I saw, and I know what I saw was real!”

  It had to be real—he had to be real.

  She crossed her arms, her fingernails scratching at her bare arm.

  I’m not crazy.

  ****

  “It’ll be okay, hon,” Rita soothed, rubbing a hand up and down Dania’s back as she helped her into bed and pushed a glass of water into her hand. “I believe you.”

  Dania accepted the water. “You’re not just saying that? Am I really going crazy? Tell it to me straight.”

  “We’re all crazy,” Rita smiled and patted her leg.

  �
�That isn’t funny.”

  “Kinda true though,” she shrugged and winked. “How about something to take the edge off? I have just the thing!”

  “You’re offering me drugs after I had cops drilling me for a half hour about narcotics?”

  Rita clearly had awful timing.

  Her best friend looked up innocently, still rummaging in her bottomless pit of a purse. “It’s just a muscle relaxer,” she claimed, sucking her teeth in that scolding don’t be a baby way as she pulled out a tiny container and popped the lid. “Open up!”

  Dania swallowed a sip of water, keeping the glass near her lips so nothing could be shoved past them. “I didn’t agree to this.”

  Her best friend had a penchant for trying whacky recreational drugs. Usually, it wasn’t Dania’s thing, but she doubted she could sleep without help. And she trusted Rita enough.

  Rita cocked her head to the side, strands of her red fringe parting over her forehead as she blinked her blue eyes slowly, waiting patiently. Dania sighed and opened her mouth. Rita gently laid a thin, rectangular strip on her tongue and it quickly dissolved, tasting fruity.

  “You’ll be feeling cozy in no time!” she chimed.

  “Did your doctor prescribe these?”

  Rita snorted, tossing the container back into her purse. “Got them from the kid in that tech shop across from the bar—”

  “A kid?”

  “Listen, relax,” she cooed, standing to tuck her in and set the water glass on her night stand. “Just lay back and let the strip do its job. Besides, don’t worry about the kid—he’s a genius. That nerd is going places.”

  Dania’s grunt came out as a huff, much less indignant than she meant it to sound, but she suddenly felt warm and carefree. She hummed as her limbs moved like liquid and she melted cozily into the plush bed.

  “See? Feels good, huh?” Rita giggled, kissing Dania’s forehead and turning out the light. “I’ll be on the couch.”

  Dania mumbled and nodded, snuggling into her pillow. As soon as her eyelids fluttered closed, the disarming smile of the tall, tailed, and dusky blue stranger flashed from her memory.