WingSpan (Taken on the Wing Book 1) (33 page)

Then there are more shapes in the cloud directly below Talon and he’s sure where the last group of rogues has gone.

The crossbow is spent and the four gryphons with Shadow close in. Talon pushes even harder, focused only on the feel of Shadow in his arms. Letting her fear swallow him up might not be smart but it could give him the edge they need as he runs for her life.

A fifth gryphon appears below Shadow and has to coast so he doesn’t overfly her stuttering progress. His armour is like hers, light brown and new, untested by blood, sweat and battle. In contrast to his light armour, the male’s long black hair appears as dark as his brown and gold wings.

Torrent.

When Shadow tries to glide she doesn’t even have the strength to hold her wings steady against the air. One folds painfully and she cries out as she rolls over to try again.

“Fly!” Talon yells and Torrent looks but carries on unhurried above her.

Then the weight of a big male surprises Talon from below and he rolls clear letting himself drop, picking up speed and distance. He doesn’t know the male but his dagger is wet with fresh blood. The stitch in Talon’s side tells him whose blood it is. With his attention on Shadow, he hadn’t noticed the six on his tail. Each beat of his wings brings a fresh burst of warmth to the inside of his chest piece.

Talon drops to gain more speed. Now that he’s injured he’ll be lucky to recover from the dive to catch her but there’s no choice at all.

Shadow’s wings give out and as she falls from the sky Talon is sickened by the loose unconscious sag of her head. The air fights her descent giving her wings an unnatural bend. Torrent looks back and with a wave he dives for Shadow, catching her in his arms.

“
Torrent
,” Talon yells.

Torrent responds by repositioning Shadow’s body. His hand takes the back of her head and with a rough pull to expose her throat Torrent wraps it in his teeth.

“She’s not yours,” Talon growls but he’s struck from above before he can see if Torrent’s gesture means dominance or death.

Stars fill Talon’s vision as he tumbles. His helmet is barely enough protection and without it he’s sure his skull would be fractured. But that’s only the start of his problems. As Talon faces his attackers his exposed legs are bound by a pair of heavy steel balls connected by a thick leather cord. They whistle through the air as they circle and one stings as it crashes into his shin. Another blow that should have broken a bone but other than pain it feels quite solid.

He can’t hold an opponent or fight one off without his legs.

The six gryphons don’t waste any time. At least three of them don’t. The other three disappear after Shadow. Talon draws his skyblade, certain this is the biggest fight of his life. Three to kill then west after his mate.

But it’s not to be. A second pair of balls binds his left arm to his wing and all he can do is coast. Hating himself for ever letting Shadow from his sight, Talon starts a slow turn but one of the three gets him from behind. The muscle rupturing dislocation of his right wing is followed by a blow that should rip his neck from his head. Then Talon falls, nearly blinded by rushing wind and incalculable shame.

Some master of the guard you turned out to be, you pathetic ass.

Don’t I know it.

Talon tumbles into the clouds. From beneath their surface he can see the sky through every speeding second it takes to reach the ground. Landing on the rocks hurts less than he expected. From two hundred feet up? Three? Initially surprised to be alive, Talon wishes simply to be dead.

When he lands a second time he knows he bounced then he slides head first down a gravel patch, roaring with pain as he’s battered by every bump. He comes to a rest between two trees, hitting one hard enough to knock loose hundreds of pounds of snow and add indignity to his useless body.

Talon only has a few minutes to size up his situation. His satellite phone is on his left and his bound arm can’t reach it. He can’t shift to human to free himself of the leather around his arm and wing until the dislocation is set. The right can’t reach the phone or to free his left.

Truly screwed, he’s intensely aware of his heart’s struggle. Its uneven rhythm and the weakening flow of blood from his side say he’s done. There’s a small patch of blue above between the trees and Talon hopes its enough for a searcher to find his body so his spirit can be freed and his sire can live out his days without shame.

The only sign of life is a bird above. Talon’s failing strength grants him enough energy to alter his eyes and as the flier comes into focus he recognizes the young red haired gryphon struggling bravely overhead.

“Cloud,” he hisses, a mist of blood accompanies his broken voice. “You stupid little gryphon.”

Everything turns gray as Talon tries to sit.

“Tawny’s gonna…” he heaves. His body numbs until he’s nothing more than fading eyes and thought.

Tawny’s gonna kill you for running off!

And with a final desperate squeeze, Talon’s heart surrenders.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“You need to eat,” Feather says.

Shadow leans against the stone wall in exhaustion. It’s nearly impossible to hold the spoon with her frost bitten hands when they’re bound in moonwater soaked cloth. Then she has to negotiate around the bandage over her nose.

“It hurts,” she says. Her fingers won’t work without pain and Feather won’t feed her. “And I’m so sleepy.”

Yawning pulls at her damaged nose.

“Eat, Shadow,” Feather insists. “Or by the time you heal on your own the frostbite will claim your fingers and the tip of your nose. If you eat you’ll heal before the damage is done. It isn’t too late.”

“What?” Shadow’s brain is still stupid and frozen. She’s finally warming up after what could be hours by the fire in the stone room. At least on the outside.

“Eat.”

“Okay.”

Shadow leans toward her bowl and rattles the chain connecting her steel collar to the wall. Her fingers can bend at least as she aims another mouthful of beef broth past her lips. She remembers something about running away with Talon; finally going home like he promised but it all went wrong and she got cold. “Where am I again?”

“You were flying,” is Feather’s patient answer. “We found you in the cold and brought you here but you still froze your fingers and your nose.”

“Feather?” How did Talon’s sister get here? And why is she lying?

“Yes,” the brunette smiles. She wears nothing but trousers and gold and Shadow focuses on her bowl rather than Talon’s sister’s breasts. Shadow wears the same, trousers and her adornment, so she is only slightly more covered. “Another spoonful. If your stomach stays good we’ll get some solids in you.”

She looks so much like her brother: the deep brown of their eyes and serious shape of their brows that all but disappears when they smile. Her wings are the colour of a golden eagle just like Talon’s.

“Where’s Talon?”

“I don’t know,” Feather says but the pain on her face is clear. Another lie covers up something very bad.

Shadow winces as the spoon gets under her nose. The soup is plain, nothing more than unseasoned broth but with her appetite returning her mouth waters with impatience for more.

“Hungry.”

“Good,” Feather says. “Finish the last of it while I check your hand. The moonwater isn’t doing the healing, you are, but it’s effective in controlling your pain.”

The combination of heat from the fire and dry air stings Shadow’s skin as the damp cloth is pulled back and she hisses, stomping one foot on the ground. All the nerves in her fingers are alight and she closes her eyes, hoping each shaky breath is one closer to relief. The sound of her bandage being wrung out is the only sound as she breathes through the pain.

“See?” Feather squeezes Shadow’s wrist to get her attention. “There’s a lot more pink. You’re doing a good job.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she sighs as the cool cloth is replaced and Feather torments her other hand.

Sent on ahead? An image of Talon dropping a blood covered gryphon as he turns on another then wild heart stopping fear as she tried to fly into the sun. There’s nothing like pain to bring clarity, such as it is.

“I didn’t see him again,” Shadow says as her eyes water. Feather removes the dressing around the tip of her nose then carefully dries her tears with spare pieces of cloth before tossing them in the fire. “Where’s Talon?”

“I don’t know,” Feather says again and pushes a plate of meat chunks toward Shadow. Again the lie. Does Feather know that she can tell? Did Torrent take her from the eyrie before anyone knew? She can only hope.

“I was cold,” Shadow says between pieces. “Why the chain?”

“Not up to me, Shadow,” Feather pulls up a corner of her sleeping mat to reveal the dagger Firn had tucked up her pant leg. When she’s sure Shadow has seen it she puts the mat back down.

What the hell?

“But now isn’t the time,” she mouths and Shadow nods.

“The prisoner is recovering?”

Feather’s eyes fall to the hidden dagger before she scrambles around and kneels to Torrent. The gryphon framed in the doorway throws his shoulders wide and rattles his wings. His tied back hair makes it easy for the firelight to bring out the yellowing bruises from his impacts with the shield around Talon’s house.

“Son of a bitch,” Shadow hisses and rests a hand over the dagger. To her the gryphon is no longer royal by any stretch of the imagination. Killer? Liar? Maybe. But royalty? No way.

“My love,” Feather bows. “She is healing.”

Damn
, Shadow curses.
Now things are complicated.

Torrent crosses his arms and sizes up the two females. Shadow gets a hand on Feather to pull her away if the big male comes for them. Did he see the dagger? She doesn’t know what to do with one and hopes her hands aren’t too messed to use it. Terry only taught her to disable and run and in spite of the fact she’s no longer afraid of Torrent her only option is the same as in her hotel room, wait for an opportunity.

“Feather,” Torrent offers his hand and pushes his wings forward to invite her in. She responds, hurrying into his arms to accept his embrace.

“Sshhh,” he croons as his fingers get around behind her neck and she relaxes though she chokes on a sob. Torrent’s eyes don’t move from Shadow, his stare so lacking in emotion it chills her. “I’m proud of you, Feather.”

Feather nods as her arms reach up around Torrent’s shoulders.

“What’s going on?” Shadow asks, having lost interest in satisfying her hunger. She had been so immersed in the experiences of her new life that she hadn’t considered Feather might have a place in Jasper. On her knees, Shadow waits for an answer. It doesn’t matter what they say, she’ll see the truth in their lies.

Feather turns. Her eyes glisten but her cheeks are dry. Torrent wraps an arm around Feather’s waist, the other loosely takes her throat.

“Where is your brother, Feather?” Shadow whispers. Her hands cover her stomach as if to hold its heaviness in before it can topple her.

“My brother,” Feather’s trembling lips press together.

“I know how he cared for Swift. I went to the chamber in the top of the mountain. You must have known her well if they were together so long. Maybe she was a friend?”

“The best,” Feather whispers, her voice constricted and Shadow doesn’t need magic to know it’s the heart-felt truth. Torrent stretches his fingers and they work their way into the gold around her neck.

“Murdered,” Shadow says.

Feather’s eyes flash.

“Disloyalty,” Feather says but she doesn’t believe it.

“Where’s Talon?” Shadow tries again.

This time Feather doesn’t answer. Torrent tightens his hold; fingernails thicken and stretch into inch long claws held just over her windpipe.

Right-handed attack
, Shadow’s mind forces her to shut up as she pictures Swift’s terrible wounds. She has to stop pushing Feather about Talon because it only increases Torrent’s threat. Something has changed between Feather and the big male she calls ‘Love.’ Now Shadow understands why she left with Torrent. Either the price for disloyalty was too high or she felt she could still do some good at his side. But good for who?