Chapter 14 Furyon #2
When the song starts and the lyrics are all about whose bed some male’s boots have been under, I watch for a solid two minutes in shock.
Surely she don’t think Tryst is anything more than a friend?
She said she wasn’t into miscommunication, and I felt we were clear.
But as she gets more into the song, casting saucy looks my way, I feel quite certain she’s makin’ a point.
As she sings, the bar flaps her ceiling tiles along with the music. She, at least, seems to be loving it.
I give Lemon until the song’s done, and when she flounces off the stage, sashaying toward me in thigh-hugging jeans, I rise. Gripping her hand, I drag her past the bar, out the door and around the corner into the dark alleyway. Pressing her hard to the wall, I cage her in.
“Only bed mine have been under is my own,” I bark into her mouth, hovering my lips over hers as she lifts her chin. I grip it hard. “Defiance must be your middle name, Lemon. If you’re mad about this morning, tell me now so we can clear it up.”
“Not mad,” she says with a saucy look. “We aren’t exclusive, Furyon. Shit, you’re still technically investigating me. And it’s just a song.”
“Liar.” I drop her chin. “Anger can be a little fun, Lemon. It can be a turn-on. Are you trying to pick a fight so we can angry-fuck in my truck bed like horny teenagers? I got a lasso in my back seat for the mustangs. You want me to tie you up nice and tight? I will, if that’s what you need.”
Her white eyelids flash over her eyes.
“There she is,” I croon. “Maybe we need to let that feral predator inside you out a little more often, city girl. Maybe you need to hunt me. Run me down and take me in the dirt.”
She gasps, mouth dropping open as her fangs punch long from her gums. “Furyon, I…”
A stabbing pain shoots through my forearm, and I gasp, stumbling backward.
“What’s wrong?!” Lemon darts toward me as I look down at my mustang tattoo.
The silver lines pulsate with iridescence. Every movement sends sharp teeth dragging along my skin. Gritting my teeth, I clap a hand over the design. “Something’s wrong. The mustangs.”
She grabs my hand, looking around for help. “I’m gonna go get Oz and—”
“No!” I fall to my knees as the pain radiates up my arm and into my shoulder, all the way behind my left eye. “Need to check on the herd. Fuck,” I moan.
“Furyon! Hang on.” Lemon stands over me and guides my arms around her waist. “Hang on,” she says again. Then she flares her wings wide and drags me up into the sky. I’d admire the beauty of watching her fly if the pain throbbing behind my eye didn’t feel like a battering ram.
“Gulch,” I moan. “Head for… Gulch.”
Black clouds tumble off the mountains and roll angrily across the sky. The temperature drops a solid twenty degrees.
I holler as wind whips past my face. I’ve never flown, but Lemon holds me tight as she climbs up over the main drag and past downtown.
Lights fade to pure black as we leave downtown behind us and bullet toward the gulch.
I cling to Lemon, not ashamed to admit I’m terrified of being dropped from this height.
But the pain radiating up and down my forearm and behind my eye pushes that worry to the back of my mind.
We hear the horses before we see them. Angry guttural screams bounce off the rock walls of the gulch, echoing up to us.
Lemon dives down and flits above the riverbank until we find the mustangs.
Like last night, they’re wild, snapping and baring their teeth at one another and anything that moves. Their eyes are full white.
Lemon lands us at the top of a fir tree, high up enough not to be near the horses. We watch in horror as they attack one another. Pools of dark shit stain the riverbank, sticky fingers spreading and killing the plant life they touch. They’re sicker than they were before—that much is clear.
“Same as the cows,” I mutter around the pain in my body.
Lemon presses close to me. “What’s happening to them? Their eyes look just like the moose’s did.”
A crack of thunder overhead startles the herd, and a few take off running up the gulch toward us. The next crack of thunder has Lemon clapping both hands over her ears. Lightning flashes across the sky at the same time, streaking down to hit the branch next to ours.
Lemon flails, and I reach for her. A branch above us cracks and knocks into me. I fall, hitting several branches on the way down, Lemon’s screams ringing in my ears.
When I hit the ground, it knocks the breath out of my lungs.
I groan as I stare up into the tree, watching Lemon scramble down, hopping out of the branches to get to me.
Pounding hoofbeats vibrate the rocky shore beneath me as the first mustang barrels past me at a dead gallop, white eyes wide as lightning and thunder crack and roll across the sky.
“Lemon, stop!” I shout.
Her eyes spring wide as she stares behind me. I turn, but I’m not quick enough as thirty horses race toward me.
There’s not enough time to get outta their way. Not enough time at all, and as the first body slams into mine, it’s lights out.