SkyFall (Taken on the Wing Book 2) (2 page)

The overwhelming power of bloodlust
avoids her and the urge to flee chokes her veins and thoughts with equal
amounts of ferocity. Her relief that Juniper walked away without injury isn't
enough to replace her own dread she's next.

Sky dips her chin and prowls away,
inviting Cloud forward.

She
’
s just a naked gryphon,
Cloud
’
s unsure inner voice states. Naked?
Definitely. Sky
’
s human hands folded her tunic
and trousers, leaving them in a neat pile. The same gentle hands set broken
bones and bound wounds as her mouth once praised and encouraged. Now her talons
flex beneath a foot-long curved beak, sharp enough to tear off a limb.

“
Master,
”
Cloud acknowledges but the tremor in her
belly shakes the syllables through her lips.

Blood rushes her ears, spreading numbness
to her mouth and she can't speak another word. Her words fade to a faint click
in her throat. As Cloud steps into the invisible barrier marking the sparring
ring no amount of heaving can pull sufficient oxygen into her lungs.

“
Take
position,
”
Hunter
’
s distant voice intrudes and Cloud
complies. A single step spreads her feet but she doesn
’
t really feel the handle of the wooden
dagger as she pulls it from her thigh.

Sky rears up, a move she didn
’
t make with Hunter, and releases a
terrifying screech. With her wings spread in threat, she brandishes her claws
and takes a step forward as brilliant blue sparks flare across her large
feathers.

The jolt of Cloud
’
s dagger landing on her own foot causes
her to cry out, unaware she
’
d even dropped it and she
slaps her hands to her ears to keep the echoes away. Blue sparks in Sky
’
s wings flourish then fade and Cloud
perceives the faint silver wall lights through the shadows around her as
flickering warm yellow fire.

The thick dry musk of fully-shifted
gryphon permeates her senses.

She no longer sees Sky or the chamber.
The beautiful young dark-haired female lies dead, close enough to the fire to
make the deep gold highlights in her hair shimmer. One year old Cloud holds
back tears and clings to her dame. Fingers trace along flight feathers as she
tries to rub away the deep bruises on her neck. No blood marks her body or
pools on the floor.

The murderer's obsidian eyes flicker in
the fire light. He nods to the black winged gryphon and it retreats down the
tunnel as he draws a knife and turns on Cloud.

"No," Cloud drops her hands. 

"No."

She runs from Sky and the chamber,
terrified by the echoes of her pounding feet and the finality of death.

Soar grabs the stone terrace wall to keep
from falling as Cloud's cries pierce his body. He regains his composure as the
training continues below and hopes no one noticed him flinch while lit by Sky's
brilliant blue threat display. He needs to follow, to release Cloud's soft, red
hair from its knot and tangle his fingers in it.

He keeps a palm on the wall to stop
himself. The last thing Cloud needs is to see him, the gryphon who dumped her
cold the day she was accepted into Memphis. Three years without her hardened
his heart.

What did you expect?
Soar chides himself.
You
had her then you shut her out.

The fighting in the room below seems to
go on for hours as Soar waits to set his plan in motion.

“
Hey, brother,
”
Hunter approaches through the tunnel
leading up to the ledge. Soar stuffs his hands in his pockets before his
youngest sibling can see the whitening knuckles.
“
We a
go?
”

“
Yeah,
”
Soar agrees. A go it is. If his cruelty
three years earlier didn
’
t count as hurting her then
Soar
’
s next move certainly will and
he
’
s an asshole for being here to
pick up the pieces. Picking them up and using them.

“
Look, Soar,
”
Hunter
bows then holds his chin up in submission.
“
You
sure? I mean it isn
’
t too late for me to stop
this.
”

“
Mm,
”
Soar grunts with a shake of his head.
Cloud
’
s breakdown still chills him
though indulging in conversation with his brother restores some warmth.
“
Things good back home?
”

“
Two births in the eyrie this year. You
’
d think our dame bore them herself she
’
s so proud.
”

Soar laughs. Most females find a way to
avoid going into season after a birth or two but their dame still wears out
their sire every few years. Soar and Hunter
’
s dame rules their birth eyrie in Oregon and is the sibling of Sire Lev, Cloud
’
s adopted grand-sire.

“
And she says next time you take off for
your male dereliction of duty to come home and see her.
”

Of course she would. Males disappear for
a few months every year to listen to the Earth, grow their treasure hordes and
hunt. Females think it
’
s laziness. Males are as
solitary by nature as females are communal, even those who have sworn service
to an eyrie like Soar has. And like Cloud hopes to although the coming hours
will see that future taken from her.

“
What happened to Cloud in there?
”
Soar asks though he knows damned well
what it was.

“
Beats
me,
”
Hunter shrugs then his chin
drops.
“
You know Sky. She makes sure
everyone loses their shit real good at least once.
”

Soar holds his tongue. While training in Memphis feels like a group thing, it
’
s very personalized and Sky
shows each gryphon in her charge exactly what their limits are.

What the gryphon does with the
information, mastery or failure, is entirely up to them.

“
Mine was a couple of years ago,
”
Hunter goes on and Soar closes his eyes.
“
It was water
—”

“
Please,
”
Soar
holds up a hand to keep the words away. He wasn't in Oregon when Hunter and his
twin snuck out. It was night and somehow they landed in the lake. Wind, the
smaller of the two, had the presence of mind to draw her wings in and get them
to shore but not before Hunter nearly drowned her in panic. The pair were eight
and both had taken wing for the first time only a year before.

“
Water,
”
Hunter swallows and Soar drops his head
back, a solid thud against the stone wall.
“
A
night exercise, dark... water.
”

“
Anyway,
”
Hunter clears his throat.
“
The gryphon who
’
s going to get her expelled is so mad his
sire is sending a delegation to make sure our grand-dame handles things prop
—”

“
I don
’
t want to know,
”
Soar warns. Master Sky doesn
’
t need help doing things properly but
politics is politics and she
’
ll have to put up with the
so-called delegation.
“
And you
’
re better off not knowing why.
”

“
Right, right,
”
Hunter answers as he jumps at Soar, gets
him in a headlock and knocks him over. In a matter of seconds, Soar has his
younger brother face down on the stone floor.

“
You got a long way to go,
”
Soar rolls off as the two catch their
breath.
“
Make it happen, Hunter, and
come to her den in an hour.

“
Be pissed I
’
m there.
”

Cloud chooses the most downstream bath
and steps in. The day's lesson ended over an hour ago and the students have
gathered for evening meal so she has the dim chamber to herself. The
underground stream gurgles as it falls from pool to pool inside the sloping
bath chamber. A different temperature fills each basin. Silver lights glow
softly on the cavern walls.

As she unties her hair she shifts,
drawing her wings in so her dirt falls in the water. Her human body is
uncomfortable in the cold and she shivers by the time the water clears.

Water can
’
t wash away the memories of Welch Peak. She rests, chin deep, in the icy water and gives in as her spirit numbs. She
not only lost her dame at Welch Peak but she almost lost her adopted dame,
Shadow, years later. Her fingers move up to her left ear and trace the jagged
outline claimed by frostbite. She spent a week in a human hospital receiving
treatment following Torrent's near fatal clawing of her stomach. The scars
remind her of the pain that day caused Shadow. If Cloud had been tougher then Shadow
wouldn
’
t have watched her nearly die.

Now she has to dig deep into her pride to
be a gryphon worthy of Shadow
’
s guard.

Cloud rises to take wing, grabs a bar of
rough homemade eyrie soap and drops back into the flow. She bought some human
toiletries during her one trip to Memphis but they ran out more than two years
before so she
’
s at the mercy of the plain
bars. At least this time of year they
’
re
scented with local wildflowers or honey.

Then there
’
s Soar. Cloud went to his den five years
earlier when she was twenty. As master of the Sire
’
s royal guard, he was the most desirable
male in the eyrie and sought after by the few single females living there. For
Cloud, the master of Lev
’
s guard was most likely to
still be there when she finally earned her place in Shadow
’
s guard and the fact Cloud had a crush on
him didn
’
t hurt either.

But his closed off attitude in public
followed by his private dismissal broke her heart.

We had a thing, Cloud. We weren
’
t a thing.