Perfect Misfits (6 page)

The air hitting his body set him alive. The transformation came quickly as rocky, jagged, snow-covered rocks tore past him at a blinding speed. As he spread his arms wide, they morphed immediately to wings. Bones cracked and snapped while his descent slowed. He touched the ground and stood looking in all directions, cursing his missing eye and fiddling with the patch.

The vertical walls of rock on both sides would make it impossible for anyone to climb up. Flakes of snow began to fall once more, and he looked straight up to see the orange sky become swallowed by darkness. He cursed.

Off to the right and left, one thing did stand out—a trail of sorts. A snow bank lined each side, but the packed snow in the centre suggested frequent travel. Grateful for his gargoyle form, Ryder took to air determined to discover where the trail led. He had much to do before the snow started falling in earnest. It would be impossible to see anything, and he needed to find a way out of this mess.

The valley below snaked with a series of curves and sharp corners, eventually leading to the side of a mountain. With the first sign of movement on the ground, Ryder commanded a cloaking spell.

Lers Wotel Jasrim
.

He flew closer, wanting to take a look at the two beasts standing on either side of what must be an entrance into the mountain.

Large, hairy, black creatures stood hunched over, swaying back on forth with what looked like three legs supported by large, round feet. A large roar from inside the rock caused both beings to grunt in response. The two of them came together at one end of the rock door, each using what looked like its front leg, and collectively heaved the rock sideways, exposing the opening.

Ryder cautiously descended for a closer look. Five more of the large beasts exited the cave, followed by four more in chains, pulling a contraption of ice.

It must be a transportation vehicle.

The shuttle slid on ice runners across the snow. Through the light blue shards of ice forming the makeshift carriage, Ryder could see a black form inside. He dropped a few more feet closer.

A crackling voice from inside the ice carriage bellowed orders. The being stepped down a tiny flight of stairs, fighting not to trip over the long, dark fur robe he wore—the same fur as the beasts surrounding him.

The creatures tripped over themselves to do his bidding. Three more of them exited the cave with the last of them, dragging a body.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiot. Close the entrance!”

The hairless commander turned to one of the creatures, pointing with a gnarled finger. “Find and bring her to me! Follow the beast’s tracks. She couldn’t have gotten far through the night! I expect her to be in my bed when I return. Do I make myself clear!”

Anger boiled in Ryder’s blood. Unable to control his temper, he thumped his large wings, causing a gust of air and snow to engulf the party down below. The larger of the beasts roared, looking up into the sky and sniffing, perhaps hoping to gain Ryder’s scent.

So that must be the bastard known as Fedor that Tempest mentioned.

“Fucking weather! Get on with it, Cash. You’re wasting precious time.”

Fedor climbed back up into the carriage. The beasts in chains pulled together, dragging the ice carriage with them.

They plodded down the trail, with the other group heading in the opposite direction.

Ryder flew straight up into the sky and past the ledge where he’d left Tempest and Rogue. Once he’d hit the plateau on top of the mountain, he squinted and scanned for the point where Tempest had almost met her demise. Fresh snow covered most of the path, but not enough to conceal where she’d slid. A big smile covered his face. It would appear as though she went over the ledge, which she had. Perhaps they would assume she plummeted to her death.

Tempest would be safe in the cave…temporarily. First, he followed the creatures sent after Tempest. How would they climb the mountain? To his surprise, the trail began a steep uphill climb, winding up the back of the ice-covered rock.

It would take them at least two days to discover she went over the ledge.

He backtracked the way he come and went in search of Fedor. Anger rose inside him, and he flexed his talons causing them to sinking into his skin.

That vile creature will never lay his hands on Tempest…never.

Suspended in the air, he scanned as far as his eye could see. To the north and east, the mountain ranges towered over the ones in the south and west. Fedor headed north, where a vast glacier spanned for miles.

Deciding it would be best to see where and why Fedor was making this trip, Ryder landed on the smooth ice surface of the glacier noticing etched trails that then somehow burrowed straight down into the hard surface, leaving a gaping hole. He hoped whatever left those marks before his was not from something living.

Chapter Seven

Translucent ice turned to milky grey as they neared the glacier. The ice runners of the carriage now ground through the tracks with effort, catching on the silt mixed frozen water.

Fedor pulled his fur robe up around his neck and peered out the window. Spear-shaped rocks peered out from the massive wall they approached. No opening appeared visible—only the jagged points forming an impressive shield. He shuddered, thinking about Vicasha. She scared the crap out of him…and he was no slouch in the ‘scary” department.

The sneers slowed to a stop in front of the spears. He stood within the carriage, staring at the image of himself reflecting back from the ice mirror on the opposite wall. Then, he sucked in the dry air with effort and spewed out a handful of spit wiping it over the top of his baldhead.

A moment of regret put a scowl on his face. He’d made his choice and placed himself in this position here on the frigid mountain. He’d never fit in the city of Levare.

Suck it up. This was your choice
.

He didn’t have it so bad now—at least here, he’d made himself
king
-like. He smiled with wicked intentions and turned to the door. He’d have to make the rest of the way on foot.

He approached the barrier of razor sharp rocks, knowing his personal calling card would open the hidden world. Removing the mitt, he exposed his hand and ran the fleshy part of his palm down one of the sharp rocks. Blood trickled over the spear and hit the ice, disappearing on contact.

Ice and rock crunched all around, sending him scurrying backward out of harm’s way. Mountains of immovable formations shuddered and groaned, splitting in two, allowing entrance to the small village bustling with life.

A troll with a beard dragging on the ground between his wart-covered legs approached. He squinted up at Fedor, then wiped his bulbous nose across his tattered sleeve. Leaning to the right and then to the left, the troll peered around Fedor’s body and smiled licking his lips.

“It’s about time you brought food,” he exclaimed, rubbing his grubby, gnarled hands together.

“Spitter, get the hell out of my way, and tell Vicasha I’m here.”

The troll stepped backward, staring at the body pulled by the sneer. He snickered and laughed, poking at the beast and grabbing a handful of his hair. “Sneer, shmeer. You’re not so big and scary, but you are awfully tasty.” Spitter stuffed the handful of hair in his mouth, and then turned and ran yelling as he went. “Vicasha knows you’re here.”

The sneer lifted his head and roared loudly with discontent. Fedor silenced the animal with the back of his hand. “Shut the fuck up, or you’ll end up like him,” he said, pointing at the dead demon body.

He strode through the village. Trolls of all sizes and disgusting shapes watched him with spiteful eyes as they went about their business. Things were different here. A stream of water flowed peacefully off in the distance, and lush foliage covered the ground reaching up toward the bright sun. Yes, things grew here, unlike in the ice castle he ruled. A smile formed on his face when he kicked over a pot of flowers he passed by. Plants and running water did nothing for this village, but the dead he brought to these spiteful creatures kept them living.

He headed to the large hut. Upon his arrival, many trolls like Spitter exited. From his pocket, he pulled out a long, jagged-edged knife. The sneer stepped out of his way as he bent down over the body, sawing with the knife until he held an ear. “Guard him,” he ordered the snow troop.

Inside the dark hut, he sauntered to the back wall and pulled up a stump. He slammed the decaying pointed ear on the rock countertop. A large one-eyed troll blinked and stood staring at him from behind the rock. A forked tongue darted out to lick the piece of flesh.

“Don’t just stand there, you fucked-up monster. Bring me a drink.”

The inebriated state would help dull his senses for what was about to come. He’d drink his fill before he visited Vicasha.

Behind the beast, an orange liquid trickled down the side of the rock wall and into a basin. He could already feel the sensation of the warm mixture sliding down his throat. The beast snatched the ear away and shoved it under the granite counter.

A glass appeared from a previously concealed compartment in the counter and began filling from the bottom up. He wrapped his hands around the tumbler and brought it to his lips. With eyes closed, he drank the contents down in one long, deep swallow. Satisfied for the moment, he returned the glass to its original spot and watched it fill again.

After the fourth round, the glass sank back into the rock, signaling he would need to cough up more body parts if he wished to consume any more. He pushed himself up and off the stump, catching himself when he stumbled a step backward. The desired effect took hold of his senses.

Outside, the bright light annoyed the hell out of him. He stared to the far end of the village motioning for the sneer to follow, and staggered down the path, feeling numb all over.

A staircase wound high up into the trees. He’d reached his destination. To his immediate left was the pit. Bubbles rose to the surface with a gurgle and disappeared.

“Put the body in there,” Fedor commanded, pointing to the pit.

With a grunt, the sneer pulled the body to the edge, undid the chain with his teeth, and then shoved the rotting corpse into the marsh.

In mere moments, the hissing began, followed by the yellow moss and weeds turning black and slithering with giant leeches. The sneer stepped backward, running into him. In his drunken state, Fedor fell to the ground.

“Get off me, you idiot!” he bellowed.

The snow trooper launched himself up and out his reach. Fedor stood on wobbling legs, looking at the body sinking within the putrid churning water, alive with engorged leeches. He turned his glare back to the sneer and ordered him to wait for his return.

One step at a time, he climbed the stairway until he came to the doorway in the large tree trunk. It opened on its own accord. Somewhat dreading his entrance, he made the step and crossed the threshold. There would be no turning back.

His eyes adjusted to the light in the room caused by the fire in the middle of the home.

“It’s about time you decided to visit,” Vicasha’s voice purred from above.

Long, sleek legs descended yet another staircase from within the dwelling on the opposite side of the fire. He licked his lips. His cock hardened at the sight of her. It was always this way.

Vicasha’s long, red nails snaked their way down the rails of the staircase, and the fire illuminated her sexy body.

“Come on, Fedor, you must be hot…remove your fur,” she coaxed.

Unable to speak, he untied the leather bindings and let the garment fall to the floor.

She made her way toward him, and passed him by. Her calculated movements drove him crazy with desire, but the desire disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

“Fuck, Vicasha! Why is it always like this?” he swore.

She bent over and opened a small door, pulling out a large bowl and setting it on the table beside her.

She turned to face him. “What’s wrong with the way it is?” she asked with an annoyed tone.

He rubbed his sweaty palms down his thighs. “Never mind. It was a dumb question.”

Vicasha wandered around the fire to stand beside him, and raked her nails up and down his arm.

“Would you rather live like those we rule? Don’t be stupid, Fedor; we have it all here.” Her arms opened wide as she spun in a circle.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. But, I can’t help think maybe we should go back to Levare. Knowing what we do now, we could be living like a king and queen.”

She retreated from him and returned with the bowl. Her hand sank into the liquid and the black swirling water sloshed over the edges. A smile formed on her face. She removed her hand, which now swarmed with baby leeches.

A mixture of sickening fear and excitement made Fedor cringe.

Slowly, she lifted her hand to her mouth. Fangs replaced her once smooth, even, white teeth. Her lips wrapped around the first victim as it screeched with rebellion, and sucked up the bloodsucking creature.

“Fedor, would you like one?”

“You know I don’t eat those things.” he said, disgusted.

Her eyes bore into his. “Lets see…you eat dead demon body parts, but this disgusts you?” Vicasha waved her hand in front of him.

After her hand had been sucked clean of the little monsters, she sauntered in front of him—slow, calculated moves. The color of her skin had already begun to change from creamy white to a dull wrinkled grey. Her hair also turned before his eyes—no longer long, silky, and blonde, but stringy black. Chunks of it fell to the floor around his feet, leaving her with bald spots.

Fedor closed his eyes, unable to look at the grizzly creature he knew would now stand before him. Her gnarled hands fumbled with the button on this pants. He was flaccid with revulsion. It happened each time the same way. Her arousal brought on her transformation.
Fuck! I knew I should have drunk more
.

At least when the two of them had been deposited on Misfit Mountain, his form had not changed. Vicasha’s had. With his eyes still closed, he summoned a vision of Tempest. It was Tempest’s hand and mouth making him hard with her stroking and licking. He continued the dream, refusing to open his eyes.