Prince of Flight (9 page)

Chapter Eight

Lark ran her hands over any part of him she could reach. His scars felt silky smooth beneath her fingertips and she focused on them, knowing he needed a clear understanding that they didn’t bother her. Far from it. The man was cut from the cloth of gods. The scars added to him, making him even sexier. She raked her nails over his back lightly as their kiss heated, the level of it growing to the point she moaned into his mouth.

His hands found her bra-covered breasts and he backed her up until she bumped a table and could go no more. He leaned and she eased onto the tabletop, thankful it was sturdy. Keonae continued to kiss her as he fondled her breasts through her bra. Wanting more, Lark grabbed for the tops of his jeans and opened them. She had only just skimmed her hand down the front of his pants when the door to the bar burst open, causing their kiss to end quickly.

“Keonae, help!”

It was Lazar and Rossi. They had another man with them who looked almost identical to Keonae, minus the scars. They held the man between them, their arms under his, aiding him in walking slowly. The man was covered in deep, bloody gashes. One hand was pressed to his side where it looked as though someone had attempted to disembowel him.

Sachin burst through the door behind them, a sword in hand as he yanked the door shut, locked it and he grabbed the handle with one hand. “Vultures.”

The word caused fear to race up Lark’s spine. They’d found her again.

 
Keonae gasped and struggled to button his jeans, stepping back from Lark, his attention on the newcomer. “Aeson? Brother?”

Panicking was out of the question and far past the point of helping, not that it ever did. She’d been tracked and found too many times by the vultures to get worked up now. No, now was time for clear thinking and a plan.

Help the injured.

Lark slid off the table quickly and grabbed for her shirt. She pulled it on and then ran behind the bar to grab clean towels and a bottle of vodka. She hurried toward a man she knew by name to be one of Keonae’s triplet brothers. She put her hand over Aeson’s on his stomach, and he collapsed forward, nearly knocking her to the ground in the process.

She went to her knees and applied pressure to his wound, handing the bottle of alcohol to Rossi. “This will help him. Give him a drink.”
 

Rossi stared down at his brother in horror. “They butchered him and have packed his wounds with human soil.”

She shook her head, not following.

Lazar’s expression hardened. “Human soil stops our healing and infects our wounds. It must be cleansed at once or the damage will not heal. Much like what happened to Keonae long ago.”

She held her breath a moment and looked up to find Keonae storming toward the bar’s front door. He thrust Sachin aside and grabbed the handle. Everything in his stance said he was going off half-cocked and that while he may do some damage, he’d probably get himself killed.

She cried out, drawing his attention to her. “Jackass, calm down a minute here. Obviously, there are more of them than you guys or they wouldn’t have run back in here. I’ve bumped into enough bird guys in my life to know none of you are wimps.”

Sachin tipped his head, pondering her words. “She is correct. Their numbers are great. And we are weaponless, save this one I took from one I just killed. I believe Lazar killed another before grabbing Aeson. So there are now two less of them to worry upon, but still more than us.”
 

Rossi bent and began pouring the alcohol over Aeson’s wounds, making the man on the floor scream in agony. Rossi kept going, but looked pained by the action. “We would have had weapons if you’d have let us leave the realm with them.”

Lazar touched Rossi’s shoulder. “What is done is done. Let us focus on a way out of this.”

Lark bent her head a moment and then squared her shoulders, her gaze locking on Rossi. They needed help in the form of weapons and she could offer it. “Can you see to Aeson?”

He nodded.
 

“Use all the liquor you need, okay?”

He nodded again. “What of you?”

She stood, blood coating her hands. She wiped them on her shirt, unconcerned with how she now looked. She’d seen blood before. A lot of it. Sometimes it felt as if her life was drenched in it. She went right for Keonae and grabbed his hand, tugging on him, wanting him to follow. He did. She led him down the hall in the direction of the back door. She veered into the break room, where an old set of metal lockers lined one wall.

Without hesitation she pointed to the lockers. “Move them.”

Keonae arched a brow in question, lost as to her request.

“Keon, move the lockers,” she ordered. They didn’t have time to spare. “I can, but I’m not as strong as you.”
 

He did as she asked and she waited as he pushed the lockers out, exposing a whole in the wall behind them. She darted past him and squeezed into the opening, grabbing a large duffle bag she’d hid there the day after she’d started working. She dragged it out and slid it across the floor to his feet.

Keonae bent and when he opened the bag he gasped. “Lark, why do you have these?”

As he withdrew one of the many sheathed swords, she swallowed hard and reached in, grabbing a short sword. “I noticed guns weren’t the most effective weapons of choice against them a long time ago.”

“So you amassed a weapons collection?” he asked, shock in his voice.

“Sort of. This is a small sample of it. My apartment has a stash, a few locations around town have some. I have some in other cities and towns.”

He stared at her, his expression blank.

She bit her inner lip. “This makes me look crazy, doesn’t it?”

“Makes you prepared,” he said, grabbed her, and kissed her before stepping back. “Now, find a place to hide while we handle the vultures.”

She jerked. He was going to make her run and hide? She had a weapons stash that might save their asses and he wanted her to be a damsel in distress? She held her short sword tighter and rushed out behind him, ignoring his request. She wasn’t about to let the vultures win.

Keonae and Sachin opened the main door and were out before she could reach them. She was just about to exit as well when Lazar spun and caught her.

“Stay. At best they will kill you,” he said, his voice deep.

She struggled against his hold. “Listen, I get you guys have some backwards views on women, but I’ve been fighting and running from these things for most of my life. I’m not going to let them hurt the people I love.”

“And these people you love would be?” he asked.

Her nostrils flared. “Keon. Fine. I love Keon. Now move it, bird boy.”

He laughed, but didn’t get out of her way. Instead, he grabbed her, lifted her, and then tossed her backwards into the air. Her stomach dropped and she nearly screamed, but strong arms caught her and eased her to her feet. She twisted in Rossi’s arms.

“What the hell?”

He pointed to his brother on the floor. “He is trying to heal. Have you buckets for water? That may help.”
 

She wanted to run out and fight, but one look at Aeson said he needed her more at the moment. “The employee bathroom has a crappy stand-up shower in it. It’s old and right now it’s packed with boxes of paperwork because it’s an extra space, and I don’t think the owner is much on housekeeping. I’m pretty sure the water works. We could clean him there.”

Rossi bent and lifted his brother, looking strained, which said a lot about how much bird guys must weigh. She glanced to the doorway. Lazar was nowhere to be seen.

“Come. They will do what needs to be done,” said Rossi. “We shall assist Aeson. He has a mate and young ones. His loss would be felt greatly.”

“Sure, guilt me into helping,” she mumbled, following behind him like a trained puppy.

*

Keonae spun, weapon in hand, countering the oncoming blow. He barely registered the reverberation, his mind on a singular mission—protect Lark. He twisted, scoring a direct hit, the steel of his sword pressing through the flesh of his enemy with ease that was a testament to the sharp blade and his continued training.

As that enemy fell, he charged another and another, cutting through them as quickly. He wouldn’t risk giving them time to get to Lark. The battle continued and Keonae realized the sheer number of the enemy far exceeded that which he’d seen in previous skirmishes. He glanced in Sachin’s direction to find him engaged in a sword fight as well. Lazar no longer held a sword and was fighting hand-to-hand style with his opponents.

A vulture moved behind Lazar and Keonae bent, grabbing a discarded weapon and throwing it end over end at the vulture about to attack Lazar from behind. The sword burrowed deep into the enemy’s chest and the man fell away as Lazar caught sight of him. Lazar nodded his thanks and kept fighting.

While it was three against many, they didn’t stop or falter. Each knew the stakes. Kill or be killed. And none wanted to fall at the hands of the vultures. Keonae glanced to his side and caught sight of a group of vultures making their way into the bar. He tried to go for them but found himself locked in a sword fight against three opponents.

Sachin and Lazar were occupied as well. Keonae’s gut tightened. Rossi would be left to defend Lark. If his baby brother failed, Keonae’s mate would be in danger, possibly even killed.

Unacceptable!

He roared, attacking with blind rage and fury. What felt like an eternity passed before he had dispatched of the enemy outside and was able to run to the bar. He crashed through the back door, hitting the wall with more momentum than he’d planned. Ignoring the pain, he pushed onward, his intent to get to Lark.

“Oh shit!”

Keonae’s gut tightened at the sound of Rossi’s voice. He ran into the open area of the bar and stopped in his tracks when he found Lark standing there, holding two short swords, one in each hand, her long hair over one shoulder, her posture perfect as she stood over fallen vultures.

Blood pooled around the enemy and inched its way toward Lark’s feet. She didn’t budge. She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re okay!”

He looked to Rossi, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. Had his brother not been, who had killed the enemy?

Rossi pointed to Lark. “Your woman kicked their asses.”

Keonae moved to her at a run and jerked her away from the puddle of blood. He put himself between her and the enemy even though rational thought dictated they were dead and would not rise and attack her. It didn’t matter. He wanted her safe.

He removed the swords from her hands and gave her a stern look. “You were to allow my brother to protect you.”

She huffed. “Well, next time I’m about to be attacked I’ll be sure to wait for him to assist.”

Keonae nodded, pleased she understood his orders. “Good.”

“You’re serious?”

Keonae glanced around. “Is this a time one would normally joke?”

“I’m totally into a complete Neanderthal.”

Lazar and Sachin appeared, holding Aeson up between them. Aeson’s color was returning somewhat. That was a good sign. It meant his wounds were healing.

“We should go,” said Sachin. “There may be more coming.”

“Go where?” asked Lark.

Keonae drew her closer. “You are coming home with me.”

“Wait, you’re returning to the kingdom?” asked Rossi.

Keonae replied. “Yes, and I am bringing my woman.”

“What if I don’t want to go?”

He stared hard at her.

She buckled. “Fine. I want to go. Don’t look so menacing.”

Chapter Nine

Lark stared around the dimly lit chamber. It was like something from a fantasy novel. It felt as if she’d traveled back in time and that any minute someone would lead her to the famed round table. In awe, she touched one of the thick wood tables near the door. On one sat a tray of fresh fruits and a decanter of wine. Several of the fruits were unlike any she’d ever seen before and she wondered if they were native to the realm. Two goblets were near. They looked like something from medieval times beautifully engraved with rare jewels around the sides. Her inner child wanted to use them and pretend to be royalty.