With a screech of fury, it shot forward, one taloned foot sending the gun flying from his hand to clatter to the ground. The man himself staggered back, blood gushing from his arm.
Just as the griffin opened its beak to roar with triumph, Rhys felt a weight on his back, and realized some of the henchmen who, until now, had kept their distance, had leapt down from the roof – right onto him.
Screeching again, the griffin shook itself to throw them off, lashing at them with its claws as they fell.
We can’t fight them all!Rhys desperately tried to regain at least a modicum of control. The griffin, in its rage, wanted to fight – but Rhys knew they had no choice but to flee. He wouldn’t last much longer with this much wyvern venom in hissystem. He needed to – somehow – get back to the Agency and have them administer the antivenom.
And then he needed to tell them everything that had happened here.
Fly, you idiot!
Finally, something seemed to get through to the griffin. For once, it obeyed him, forcing itself to bound down the alleyway, wings tucked close to its sides. It was too narrow for it to take off here – the long, golden feathers of its wings would scrape against the walls if it spread them fully. It had to find somewhere wider to take off.
I’ll get a lecture about shifting in public,Trent thought, as the griffin, still seared with pain, finally emerged into an intersection of two alleys –justenough space for it to spread its wings and fly.
Rhys may not have thought so in the past, but right now, in a choice between death and a stern talking-to from Robb… he’d take the talking-to.
Exhaustion dragged at him. Every movement felt like agony. But the sound of the men approaching from behind him spurred him on.
Fly. C’mon. Fly!
The griffin steeled itself, clearly weakening. But then, with the last of its strength, it launched itself upward.
It wasn’t the best flight he’d ever taken.
In fact, it probably lasted all of about three minutes before his wings faltered and he fell back down to earth, crashing down in a mass of feathers and fur into yet another nondescript alley.
Oof. That’s done some damage,Rhys thought, as the griffin struggled to right itself, claws scraping against the stone of the alley. One of his wings was dragging badly, and Rhys could tell it was broken.
Well, add it to the catalogue of shit I have going on right now,he thought, as the griffin tried to get itself together to stand.
But Rhys knew it was hopeless. The wyvern venom was doing its work too quickly. And far from taking over his mind and meaning he’d be stuck in animal form forever, Rhys was quickly finding that the griffin was actuallyretreating, the pain too much for it. It was, in the end, an animal, and it was doing what it could to get away from the pain.
Before he knew it, Rhys found himself sliding back into human form. So at least when someone found him and called the ambos, he supposed, he wouldn’t be dissected as a biological mystery, the kind of thing that might get written up in a salacious tabloid –MYSTERY ALIEN CREATURE FOUND IN ALLEY?!Or something along those lines.
Just as well he was about to die, or he’dreallyget a lecture from Robb about all this, Rhys thought, an ironic smile forcing its way onto his now once-again human lips.
Ah well. Might as well have a little rest,he thought, leaning back – and crashing straight through the window he hadn’t noticed behind him.
Chapter 2
That stupid bastard. That stupid, stupid, stupid,unbelievablystupid bastard!
Maisie took a moment to calm herself, closing her eyes and trying to draw in a deep breath.
You’re on a tropical island. Or at least you soon will be. There’s nothing here but the sound of the waves on the sand, the wind in the palm fronds. It’s just you, your book, and the sunshine on your skin, the wind in your hair. Everything is calm. Everything is relaxing. There’s no stupid piece of shit arsehole bastard here to ruin your day or tell you he’s not coming on this holiday with you at the last minute – ARGH!!
Snapping her eyes open again, Maisie realized that if she didn’t calm down right now, she’d be in danger of tearing her new pair of swimmers in two, before she’d even had the chance to wear them outside of the change rooms of the swimwear shop.
Unclenching her fists, she smoothed the stretchy material down before quickly folding it and putting it away inside her suitcase.
Still, it seemed pretty unfair that she couldn’t keep her mind off Brent Coleman, aka the stupid, stupid,unbelievablystupidbastard, even in her relaxation fantasies – he was very,verymuch her ex-boyfriend now, and that was that. She needed to put him out of her mind if she was going to have a hope of enjoying herself on her first holiday in nearly four years.
It was the holiday, however, that had caused the breakup, so fat chance of that, Maisie thought glumly as she despondently dropped a flowy, pastel-colored sarong down on top of her swimmers.
It wasn’t the kind of thing she’d normally wear – being an ER nurse meant she tended toward practical clothes, and being in scrubs and sneakers for most of her waking hours had seemed to have given her an allergy to clothes that were either too restrictive or too flowy, high heels, jewelry, nice hairstyles, and anything but the most minimal of makeup (her morning beauty routine consisted mainly of ‘brush teeth in shower, pull hair back, dab concealer on bags under eyes, not that it does much – or any – good’).
But dammit, she’d booked this holiday to getawayfrom the stress of work – and so, flowy sarongs, cute swimmers, and impractical footwear it was.
