Chapter 10
Wolf
Several things ran through my mind, all at once.
The very first thought was that Seraphim was after me again, and this time they'd resort either to kidnapping or out-and-out murder.
But as I squinted at the figure in front of me, it became clear that they were sephear, fronds floating in the air behind them and a series of dim lights glowing from the chest of their power armour.
No way Seraphim would hire alien mercs to come for me.
The next thought was that this was the ward guard, pissed off at my stunt and out for a little assault as revenge.
But as I twisted to look behind me and saw the other hulking form, I scrapped that idea: if guards wanted to rough me up, they'd do it in uniform.
They knew all the places where there wasn't any surveillance, and they'd want me to remember who'd done it.
Then I wondered if this might be a shake-down. Extortion for protection money? Possible.
My feet stopped moving beneath me, grinding to a halt on the gritty metal plating.
Cold prickled at the back of my neck and I risked another quick look over my shoulder, and saw that the other figure – a male-neuter paledrian judging by the four massive arms and the flash of light reflecting from his eyes – had started making his way into the alley at the same time that the sephear prowled closer.
I stepped sideways – this alley was lined with doors into more tunnels and shops and other strange little rooms and corridors, all of them shut but each one a potential escape route – and reached for the nearest door, slapping my hand on the panel on the outer wall.
It emitted a sad chirp, flashing red, keyed to someone who wasn't me.
"Look," I said in an even tone as the two figures stalked closer and my pulse kicked into another gear. "I'm sure there's been some kind of misunderstanding. I don't have anything of value on me, and –"
And then, in an instant, they both surged forward and attacked.
There were two other thoughts that surfaced in that half-breath between trying to talk my way out of this and realizing I was going to have to fight my way out.
The first was that I should have sent a ping to Araxis.
We weren't even in the same ward, but I wanted instinctively to reach for him, to ask him for help.
The second, louder thought was Tam's deep voice: If someone wants to hurt you, you'd better get there first.
So the moment the sephear was within range, I lashed out: my shoulders dipped and I dug in my heels and slammed forward into their chest, the hard planes of their armour cutting bruising lines into my skin.
Pain had already been throbbing through my body, so what was more?
It didn't matter. What mattered was that I dropped down low and moved hard, and when I pitched myself forward, the sephear staggered back, slamming into the opposite wall of the narrow alley before falling to the ground.
I whirled on the paledrian – no marriage tattoo; someone looking to prove himself – as his mouthless face, made of angles and flashing eyes, loomed.
My heel pivoted hard as I took a massive swing, slamming my fist into the narrowest part of his stomach.
A shocked sound gasped from the gills to either side of his neck.
I took the moment to push forward again, grabbing at the hilt of the baton I saw dangling from his waist. I wrenched it free and kicked hard at one of his double-jointed knees, cracking it on the side as he took a half-step back, wheezing as his four hands clutched protectively at the place I'd punched him.
If you did that right, Tam had told me, you could drop a paledrian in one hit. Clearly, I hadn't done it right, but given the way he'd started looking at me, eyes wide and flickering, mottled blue skin suddenly pale, I'd clearly done something.
My wrist flicked, snapping the baton out to full length and I whirled again to look at the other attacker. The sephear, pale yellow and glistening as their suit hissed out a mist to cover their skin, pushed themself up, an inner set of eyelids sliding over their massive eyes.
I glanced between the two of them, and saw the sephear's three-fingered hand drift to something at their side.
"You fucking try anything," I snarled, "and I'll puncture those pretty eyes of yours."
"He's fast," said the sephear, glancing over at the paledrian.
I took a half-step back, closer to the wall, trying to keep them both in my line of sight. The baton felt heavy in my hand, heavier than a blade, the balance all wrong – but all I had to do was swing. My chest heaved as I sucked in hard breaths in the sudden lull of the alley.
The paledrian's hands finally drifted away from his belly, twitching as they came to rest by his side. He made a layered sound, almost like the drone of an accordion, and the sephear smiled. "Yes," they said, "I agree."
And then, as if they were speaking in a language I couldn't hear, both of them launched at me at once. I struck out with the baton, but before I could get a full arc in, one of the paledrian's massive hands caught my elbow and twisted.
A hot, bright burst of pain snapped from the joint, a wet popping sound bursting through the air in the alley.
I screamed, ragged, my fingers spasming uselessly around the end of the baton as it clattered to the ground.
At the same time, the sephear swept forward with one powerful leg, kicking at my knees and throwing me off balance.
The paledrian's other three arms scrambled and pinned me hard against the wall, and I was, in the span of a breath, trapped.
So much for weeks of training, for literal blood, sweat, and tears.
I might have laughed at how quickly it was over, except for the nauseating wash of helplessness that layered the moment with the memory of others.
Grigor Spade looming over me, his skin the colour of curdled milk.
Andiri's hands around my throat; her foot on my wrist, the bones creaking.
I was alone; I was alone and trapped and – and it was all happening again.
The sephear chuckled wetly, kicking the baton away from where it rested at my feet.
My heart galloped in my chest, my body shivering beneath the paledrian's massive, damp hands.
As the paledrian held me firm, the yellow sephear stepped backwards, head tilting as their fronds floated back behind them, luminous eyes blinking slowly.
"I have been studying human anatomy," they said after a long moment, their mandibles flaring as I tried to fight.
I twisted, grunting with effort while the paledrian leaned more and more of his weight against me until my wrists were pinned hard against the frigid wall behind me, my elbow throbbing like someone was jamming a metal lance into the joint, another hand shoving my head back while the fourth was pressed hard against my sternum – I could barely draw a breath with that amount of weight digging into me, despite the ragged little gasps that were tearing from my throat.
"Your little bodies are quite remarkable.
There is much we can do to you before risking death.
I wonder, Yafi – did you wish to start with teeth or nails? "
Panic, bright as an arc flash, lit me up as the hand digging into my stomach pressed a bit harder.
I felt, in a surge, like I was going to vomit, could feel what I'd had for lunch curdling in my gut, hot and sour.
The paledrian wheezed out another layered sound, and the sephear chortled again.
"Yes, quite right. Why bother with a nail when we could take an entire finger?
It might sell for a pretty price, a body part that once belonged to someone who thought he mattered. "
The sephear reached casually to their waist and drew a tiny little blade from a built-in holster, its metal flashing in the dim light of the alley.
Another wave of panic surged in me and I tried to thrash beneath the paledrian's massive weight, the hand on my skull pushing harder and harder until I thought something might actually give way.
Distantly, I remembered Tam saying I had a thick skull, and it was that thought – bright and sudden and nearly delirious – that made a startled laugh tear from my aching lungs.
I'd been stupid, hadn't I? Here I was, alone in the shit-end of Radiant Ward, when I could have been safe by Araxis's side.
Weeks of training for absolutely nothing – and all I wanted now, with a keen, desperate throb deep in my chest, was to kiss him one last time.
I'd die thinking of him, like I thought I might on the sands – except this time, it was my own stupid fucking choices that put me here.
The sephear ignored my little breakdown – they couldn't know why my eyes had suddenly filled with tears, why my nose had started running as I fought to gasp for air, lost somewhere between laughing and crying – stepping forward with a hungry gleam in their massive eyes, drawing near to the wall where the paledrian had my right hand slammed hard into the soot-streaked metal, my wrist as good as held in a vise.
I sucked in a breathy, startled gasp as they approached, the blade winking in the alley as they nudged the tip toward the juncture of my pinky finger.
The sephear tilted their yellow head, blinking at me thoughtfully. The tip of the blade touched my skin, cold as ice, and I felt the pinprick of pain as it pressed into my soft skin.
And then the pressure was gone, the sephear rocking back slightly to look at me.
"Will he be loud, do you think?" they asked mildly, sounding almost bored.
"We don't want to be interrupted by a curious passerby.
" Then they tapped something on their dark armour and the air shivered against my eardrums, a new pressure settling over me as I realized that, until this very moment, I could have just started screaming.
Then again, who the fuck would come and help in the Graves?