Kadion crouched, and rivulets of blood ran down his upturned face from a nasty headwound. “We’re aiming to incapacitate, not kill, so keep those bites to yourself unless we’re about to die.”
“Understood.”
At Kadion’s quick nod, Verakko used all of his considerable strength to launch the Strigi corpse into the air, giving their attackers a moment of shock that would last long enough for the Yulo glove to do some damage.
These males were smarter than the others, however. They kept to the air rather than fighting on the ground, as their deceased counterparts had done. Verakko searched the area, seeking any means to attack or delay. If he could give the females enough time to escape by preventing any of these Strigi from getting to the control center inside the cabin, at least this night wouldn’t have been for nothing.
A furious growling hiss tore from his throat. There was nothing that could be used as a weapon and no way to reach the airborne assailants unless he climbed a tree and leapt. There were many reasons why that idea would never work, though. What he wouldn’t give for a shade spear right now.
The males dove away from each other suddenly. Verakko kept his gaze trained on the Strigi hovering above him. When the male opened fire, he vaulted into the shadow of a nearby copse of trees. He felt the slice of a Yulo beam tear through his hip and stifled a shout. He crawled across the dark ground, allowing his skin tone to deepen even more and camouflage him as it was designed to do.
The shots ceased, and he peered out into the clearing. To his horror, a third male, who’d been lurking in the woods, was now silently sneaking up behind Kadion, long blade in hand. Had he not joined the fight before because he didn’t have a Yulo glove?
The male gripped the handle, and rage roared through Verakko at the dishonorable position. The lingering venom in his fangs ached to be released. Chancing a quick glance above him, he saw the Strigi had sped toward Kadion, an attempt to distract him.
Verakko dashed toward the attacker at Kadion’s back, making sure to keep his footfalls light. Just as he came within a few feet, the large Strigi turned and clumsily jabbed with his sword before trying to sweep Verakko’s legs with his wing.
Verakko ducked and rolled, then sprung up and trapped the male’s left wing between his forearm and ribcage. He used his other hand to grip the thick but hollow bone that ran from his shoulder to the apex of his wing and wrenched it downward, cracking the bone in half.
The male screamed and swung his blade wildly in Verakko’s direction. He jumped out of reach and squared off with the Strigi. Verakko hissed a laugh between his teeth. “You can’t fly away now, can you?”
The Strigi male was larger than most and had the furious and slightly vacant glare of an overeager warrior. One who rushed into battle with little regard for honor or loyalty. Only looking to kill and prove themselves powerful. The male’s eyes flashed to Verakko’s side, where blood still poured from the open wound at his hip. If they didn’t win this fight soon and he kept exerting himself like this, he knew he’d succumb to blood loss. Verakko studied the male and let his limbs relax. He shifted his weight left to right in a fluid motion, drawing the male’s confused gaze. “Your wing is broken, but you could still get a lucky shot in if you rushed me right now.”
Verakko could see the sway take hold. The male’s eyes glossed and narrowed. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, as though he’d had a grand idea about how to dispose of Verakko.
The poor idiot had no idea what he was in for. Verakko clutched at his wound weakly to aid the sway, and as he expected, the male let out a loud howl and rushed toward him. When he was within a foot and confidence was etched into his features, Verakko dodged, grabbing the male’s sword arm as he went. Before the Strigi could right himself, Verakko had sunk his fangs into the flesh just below his elbow and released a few small drops of venom.
He stood back as the massive male shuddered and dropped to his knees, eyes wide with terror. Verakko crouched before him, put a single finger on his chest, and watched as he tipped and then sprawled on the ground. “You were going to stab him in the back like a coward. Now you’ll die like a coward.”
The male made a gurgling sound in his throat, and his eyes glossed over. Verakko clenched his jaw. Fuck. He deserved to die, but unlike some of his people, Verakko didn’t revel in the suffering his victims experienced.
A stray tear leaked from the male’s eye. His limbs shook as though he were trying with everything he had to lift them. Verakko couldn’t stand the sight anymore.
Leaning forward a fraction, he whispered, “Sleep now. And feel no pain.”
Immediately, the tension left the male’s body and his lids grew heavy. The blood lust Verakko had felt a moment ago ebbed as the life faded from the Strigi’s eyes, and as always, a sliver of regret knotted in him. His mother would’ve been ashamed if she’d seen him grant that small mercy.
A booming voice echoed through the clearing. “We need one of them alive for questioning.”
Before Verakko could regain his composure and jump back into the fray, a sizzling thud hit the back of his head, and then everything went black.
***
Shards of ice pelted Verakko’s face, rousing him. His head was pounding furiously, but his body felt weightless. He peered below himself and froze. Fear coursed through his veins, dissolving all of his pain and leaving terror in its place. One of the Strigi was holding him by the arms and flying, its wings buffeting the chilled air around them.
Being this high up was Verakko’s worst nightmare come to life. His heartbeat banged out of control in his chest, and his breaths grew shallow.
He needed to find a way down. Now.
Closing his eyes, he forced his mind to calm, the way he always did whenever he had to deal with heights. You aren’t afraid of the height, you’re afraid of the fall and the ground. All you need to do is get closer to the ground.
Below him was the Sauven Forest. It had to be. He couldn’t possibly have been unconscious for that long.
He glared up toward the Strigi holding him. Cuts and fresh bruises marred the male’s face, and a wince was permanently etched in his expression. How could he sway the male? What might he have already been thinking? A communicator strapped to his left bicep caught Verakko’s eye. He shot a glance to his own bicep and found his communicator missing. Shit!
As they passed through a particularly dense, low-hanging cloud, shards of ice stung their skin again. The male cursed under his breath, and Verakko had his answer.
“It would be much easier to fly lower. Out of the path of these clouds.” Verakko kept his voice low yet audible.
Without glancing to Verakko, the male suddenly scanned the ground, eyes searching for any signs of life.
Verakko swayed again. “There are only trees down there. No one to see if you don’t follow orders.”
The male dipped, heading out of the clouds and down into warmer air. He leveled out into a glide several hundred feet above the forest.
Still too high.
“Your wings are so sore from all this extra weight. Maybe you should find a spot to rest for a moment.”
The male dipped until the treetops were only a few feet away but then squinted and shook his head. The sway wasn’t holding. Verakko glanced down again, and his insides twisted. He might survive a fall from this height, but…the pain. Memories of cracked bones and limbs twisted at odd angles assailed him.