Page 22 of Braden

They arrived at the overlook, which had a low wall to keep the unwary from walking over the edge of the cliff.

“You shouldn’t have opened the damn box, Elodie,” Chet said.

“After all the fuss you made, I wanted to see for myself what was so important,” she retorted, holding the box tightly. “You’ve been betting against Renald and the team? You’ve been providing insider information to the Combine? You drugged him before a big game? I thought he was your best friend in the world.”

“Keep your voice down,” Chet said urgently, with a glance at the distant party tents. He ran one hand through his carefully coiffed hair and frowned. “You knew I love to gamble.”

“Not like this.”

“Yeah, I was doing fine until I had a run of bad luck. Got in too deep and my bookie sold my debt to the Combine. Once the mob gets their hooks into you, they own you. I had to do what they ordered. And no one was hurt. Renald was fine by the fourth quarter.” His voice took on a tinge of pridefulness. “But I kept my notes.” Nodding toward the box, he took on a boastful attitude. “You’re holding the real golden token there. I can expose the whole ring and take out a big chunk of the Combine. They can either cancel my debt and reward me handsomely for turning over the evidence to them instead of the police or else I’ll go to the Sectors Criminal Investigation Agency, get immunity, give them the data and disappear into Witness Protection with a whole new start. The SCIA’ll set me up with a new name and enough credits to launch a new life where no one can find me.”

Elodie was speechless. “What happened to your big trust fund? The family inheritance?”

He shook his head. “Never had one. It was all a big lie, a con, a sham. I’ve been skimming from Renald’s accounts for years to support myself and my gambling. He had so much wealth he never missed it, believe me.”

“He trusts you.”

Chet’s grin was sharklike. “Yeah, that’s his problem. I’ve been riding his coattails since we were kids in college. Tamarind never liked me, you know. Her disdain is part of why I went after you. I figured if you and I were a couple she’d back off. Which she did for a while but then when you dumped me⁠—”

“Because you cheated!” Anger erupted, sending hot waves of emotion through her entire body.

Chet ignored her righteous indignation. “Now they’re married she’s persuaded Renald to combine their business interests and there’s going to be a full audit. I cooked the books, yeah, but the embezzlement won’t stand up to a forensic audit. Tonight’s my swan song as part of the Renald-Tamarind circus. By tomorrow I’ll be far away from here, busy negotiating the next phase of my life. You can bet on it.” He closed the space between them and instinctively Elodie retreated until the backs of her legs hit the retaining wall, which only came to her knees.

“That’s why you were so desperate for the box to arrive,” she said, trying to sidestep him to no avail.

“I hacked the hotel’s security system and searched your room the other night—I was sure you were lying to me to spite me. But no, you’re still the same trusting little fool, aren’t you?” With no warning Chet snatched the box away from her and pushed her hard.

With a scream Elodie toppled backward over the low wall, with nothing below but a drop of several hundred feet into the rocks and waves.

* * *

Braden got back to their table with the two drinks eventually, to find no sign of Elodie. He set the colorful feelgoods down and looked around the tent. There was a prickling at the back of his neck he’d experienced before on missions, right before things started to go south. “Have you seen my date?” he asked the few people at the table, breaking into their conversation ruthlessly.

“She said to tell you she was going to her room and she’d be right back,” one girl said helpfully.

“How long ago?”

“No idea.” The girl giggled and pointed at her own empty feelgood glass. “Mavbol Margaritas make me lose track of time, you know?”

He pivoted, planning to go to Elodie’s hotel room and give her a lecture about taking off without him when another woman grabbed his sleeve. With an uncomfortable expression on her face as if she regretted giving him bad news, she said, “I saw her go outside with her ex and they haven’t come back yet. They were heading toward the lookout point.”

“Thanks.” Braden worked his way through the throng and emerged at the rear exit to the tent. Two figures stood together quite a distance away and he broke into a sprint, uneasiness rising. The situation worried him. Why would Elodie and Chet have to have any lengthy conversation, let alone at the edge of a cliff, away from the rest of the guests? And him.

Suddenly he saw the couple struggling and then Elodie went over the edge. Her scream was faint at this distance but the sound galvanized him and he…changed.

Braden knew he’d never get there in time but as the ability bequeathed to him by his long ago ancestors fully awakened, he shifted into a huge golden, winged creature, rising above the ground and darting forward, propelled by his 40’ wingspan. Power flowed through his form along with a triumphant sense of something ancient stretching into full awareness. He soared above a cringing Chet, taking a swipe with his talons as he went that left the man flat on the rocky pavement, bloodied, and dove down the side of the cliff. There was no way he’d be quick enough to save Elodie, even at the speed he could attain in a dive and his keen eyes searched the rocks below for her crumpled form as grief consumed him. Briefly he was tempted to crash into the waves himself, not wanting to live without his mate. He conquered the impulse—she wouldn’t want him to do such a thing. Elodie would expect him to carry on and make every effort to be a force for good in this life.

There was nothing to be found. The waves could have carried her off already. Keening, he pulled out of his dive right above the water and flew through the salty spray in a giant circle, eyeing the ocean chop with his enhanced avian predator vision.

A faint sound caught his attention and he returned to the cliff face, unable to believe what he saw.

Elodie lay on a ledge not more than a foot wide, clinging to a bush growing in a cleft of the rock. The wind rushing up the face of the cliff tore at her dress, causing it to billow like a sail and threaten to dislodge her tenuous hold. She called for help again as he flew closer. Hovering on the updraft, Braden extended his clawed feet. She shrank back, endangering her grip on the bush and stared at him in the moonlight. In this form he couldn’t speak but he made crooning sounds as one would to a baby and prayed to the gods of Ardanna she’d understand it was him.

She reached one hand out to him and touched the edge of his wing as he hung suspended in midair, slight adjustments of his feathers allowing him to use the updrafts and air currents to stay in one spot. “Braden?” she said in a whisper.

He made a sound he hoped she’d interpret as agreement and carefully rubbed his beak against her cheek as a caress, grateful she was alive.

Flexing his wings he altered his position and closed his talons around her waist, tearing the gown further but not piercing her soft flesh. Elodie shut her eyes and released the bush, giving herself up to him. The sudden weight pulled him toward the ocean and he had to flare his wings and adjust as the water grew closer but then he was able to pull up and begin rising on the strong winds. Once they were above the cliff edge, he flew inland a few yards and placed her gently on the soft grass. There was a big crowd of onlookers now. People were tending to Chet and gawked at Braden and Elodie. He stood over her, wings spread in an imposing display and hissed defiance. He wished there was another Ardannan present to explain. His people revered and honored those who could shift but humans tended to be more hostile to things they didn’t understand.