Eden's Creatures (2 page)

His stepfather roared and rushed forward like a maddened bull, hitting Cal around the middle, lifting him off his feet and slamming him out through the door and into the wall of the hallway beyond. The breath exploded from Cal’s lungs and he slumped down to the floor under a barrage of close-fisted blows to his head and ribs.

“You little punk,” Ross growled out. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my business?”

Slap.

“I don’t know why I put up with you!”

Slap.

“I want you out of this house when you graduate! Do you hear me? Get out and never come back. You’re not wanted here. Never have been!”

If his mother heard any of those hateful words, she said nothing. Not that Cal expected her to. Although he knew that she cared for him on some level, Evie Taylor was simply worn out from life and had nothing left to give to those around her.

“Speak up, stupid! Do you hear me?” Ross hissed, stabbing a finger in Cal’s face.

“I hear you!”

“I don’t care where you go as long as you’re gone.”

“I’ll be gone.”

Ross kicked him one last time and went back into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Cal got up and stormed into the kitchen. He grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and walked out the door. Landon was still there waiting at the end of the driveway where Cal had told him to stay.

“Cal! Are you all right?”

Cal ignored him and ran into the woods, pumping his arms and legs as fast as they would go. Racing along all the familiar trails. Straining with the effort until his muscles burned.

I wish I could keep running and never stop.

With that thought in mind, he picked up his pace, every step taking him farther away from his family and his shitty life. Away from the screaming and the beatings and always feeling so damned alone.

He didn’t slow until he came to his favorite spot, a hollowed-out clearing used by most of the teens in town to hang out. Of course, he never joined them if they were there, and relief flooded through him to find it empty now.

Garbage littered the ground. Beer cans. Cigarette butts. Food wrappers. Someone’s sneaker. All strewn around the big fire pit carved into the center.

Cal kicked the refuse with a few choice words and sat down on one of the tree stumps that circled the pit. He pulled the tab on one of the beer cans and waited for the foam to subside before taking several long swallows. “Merry freakin’ Christmas,” he muttered aloud.

A small sound straightened his back, and he swung his gaze toward the heavy woods.

As he sat there, an eerie feeling crawled its way up his spine, sending the hair on the back of his neck standing up. The more he stared, the more he felt sure.

Somewhere, out among those trees, someone lurked.

And whoever it was seemed to be looking right at him.

The girl watched the boy — just as she had for more nights than she cared to count. He looked angry again. No, not angry. Sad would be a better word. The yellowed bruises of a few days ago had been replaced by a fresh, bloody gash on his cheek making her wonder if he might be a warrior. If so, he was not very big.

Yet he did have skill with the bow, and he was very smart. She had seen him hunt rabbits and deer by tracking their footprints on the ground. Once she saw him snap his thumb to create fire. He would sit there alone by the flames and play beautiful music with a small silver instrument that he brought to his lips.

But not all was well with the boy. Often he lashed out against the trees with his fists or feet. Sometimes he would cry.

She wished she could talk to him. Find out more about him. But that would never happen in her lifetime.

The boy was human.

T
here was only silence with the occasional creak of wood. A cold breeze fluttered loose leaves. An adventurous squirrel flitted along a branch, but nothing else that Cal could see. Yet still he sat, peering into the void between the trees, waiting for the spooky feeling that had sent his adrenaline into overdrive to go away and his racing heart to slow.

A shiver raced through his body, and he downed the second beer in three gulps. Feeling slightly more at ease, he turned from his watchful gaze.

He debated starting a fire, but decided against it. Although he knew these woods like the back of his hand, it would be dark soon. Best to just go home. If he was lucky, he could sneak back into the house, go straight into the room he shared with Landon and go to bed. Anything to avoid another confrontation with his stepfather.

It did make him wonder, though, as it had often, why Ross Taylor hated him so. Cal bore the man’s last name even though his stepfather had never formally adopted him. His mother had changed it when he was six years old, but Cal never remembered Ross ever being anything close to a father to him. Never remembered anything other than loathing. Perhaps it had been some romanticized notion of family by his mother in the early years of her marriage. Before she gave up on life. And him. But how pointless to dwell on old used-up theories.

Cal stood and started back on the trail to his house. Snow crunched under his boots and the wind cut through him. He hunched his shoulders against the cold and gathered his jacket in close at the neck.

As he walked, a flash of white caught his eye and he noticed something up ahead float lazily down from the sky and land in the middle of the path. As he drew closer, he saw that it was a feather. A very large feather.

He bent to pick it up and turned it in his hands, amazed. No bird that he knew of around these parts had feathers this big.

So where did it come from then?

He looked up and scanned the branches of the trees over his head, but found nothing out of the ordinary. He shrugged and continued on his way. Maybe Landon would like it. That kid was always collecting strange things.

If Cal had been paying closer attention, he would have realized that his surroundings had changed. Subtle at first. A gust of warm air. The crunch of snow replaced by the spongy feel of grass. The shrill cry of birds in the distance.

When he finally looked up, his steps faltered in confusion at the edge of a steep hill, and he sucked in a surprised breath at the fantastical sight below.

A neon green lake shimmered in the runoff of several thundering waterfalls. Wildflowers clung to the surrounding hills in a profusion of colors so vivid they didn’t look real. And the wide ray of some unseen sun bathed the entire landscape in an ethereal glow.

All of it untouched by the gloom of winter.

All of it not of this world.

The eerie feeling Cal had felt earlier returned — only this time with a magnified sense of doom. The sky seemed to be plummeting down to crush him. The ground beneath him rising up to seize his feet in place. He wanted to scream, but found no breath left in his lungs. He wanted to run, but felt paralyzed with fear.

The ghost of a shape flickered to the right of him. He whipped his head around, but saw nothing. The sound of a chuckle to the left spun him the other way.

Still nothing.

But it gave his legs life at last, and he broke free of his terror and ran.

Or tried to.

A harsh yell ripped from his throat when he was hit from behind and sent into a violent roll down the hill. Flickers of white appeared in his vision. He caught glimpses of barefooted figures racing down beside him, following his out-of-control descent. The more Cal screamed for help, the more they made these strange hooting sounds.

He clawed at the moving ground, twisting and turning in an effort to slow his momentum. Thorny branches clutched at his clothes. Sharp stones ripped his skin.

He grunted in pain when he finally came to a hard stop up against a large boulder by the lake. Breathing hard, he tested the movement in his limbs to make sure he was still in one piece. Before he had a chance to finish, he was hauled roughly to his feet by the back of his coat.

“What do we have here?” a male voice asked. “Hold him while I take a proper look.”

Cal was shoved from behind, and he crashed against a body that felt as hard as brick. He turned. Four men stood around him. All were tall, at least six feet four or more. They wore tight, dark pants that closed in the front with laces instead of a zipper. Naked from the waist up, their ripped, muscled chests glistened with sweat.

And what are they carrying on their backs?

“A son of Adam?” the one behind Cal asked and pushed him into another.

Cal stumbled to the ground.

His new assailant picked him up as though he weighed no more than a baby and lifted one of his arms. “He’s a scrawny little thing, is he not?”

“How did he get in?”

Cal could no longer keep silent. “Get in? Who are you? What is this place?”

“He talks.”

Cal yanked his arm back. “Of course I talk! All right, come on! Just get on with it so I can get home, all right? You’re not the first pack of cowards I’ve had to deal with today.”

“We better take him to Julius.”

“Hell no,” Cal snarled, fright stiffening his backbone. “You’re not taking me anywhere.”

Four pairs of eyes narrowed in amusement and Cal felt like a piece of carrion in a sea of vultures.

“No?” asked one with piercing blue eyes and shoulder-length blond hair. “I think these will help me take you wherever I wish.”

A loud retort echoed in the twilight as a pair of enormous, snow-white wings snapped open behind the man in a bright halo.

Cal cowered back in terror. “What the—”

“Look out!”

A sudden
whoosh
sounded above Cal and he ducked along with the others.

“It’s Stassi!”

A female with wings appeared out of nowhere and swooped in close. Cal tried to move out of her way, but she dug sharp claws into his coat at the shoulders. “He is mine!” she hissed.

Cal’s stomach lurched as she swung him up into the air. He yelped in fright but dared not struggle. Her wings, much smaller and darker than the men, seemed entirely too fragile for the task of carrying him.

“You’ve finally found a mate, have you, Stassi?” one of the men shouted up at her. “Be gentle with him!”

The bird woman glanced back uneasily when the blond man howled in fury, but she didn’t stop. She dragged him through the sky with uneven, jerky movements, struggling with his weight. At least thirty feet in the air now, Cal held his breath, not wanting to do anything that might cause her to drop him.

Instead, he closed his eyes and tried not to think about the fact that he was in the clutches of a being that had no business existing in this world. Where was she taking him? What would she do to him once she got him there? He hoped to God she didn’t think of him as her next meal.

When his feet brushed the top of the trees in the forest, he opened his eyes — just as she let go.

He screamed, flailing his arms and legs, but the drop was short and he plopped into a massive nest, the sides of which were at least seven feet high. He scrambled back against the wall and glanced around warily at the crude space. Wooden shelves had been built into one side of the nest and held a variety of bowls, cups and eating utensils. A bow and a quiver of arrows hung from a makeshift hook. Several wicker baskets on the floor bulged with fur and leather clothing.

The bird woman settled down next to him and he noticed two things right away. First, she had the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Second, like the men, she wore no shirt.

A red hot flush stung his ears at sight of her bare chest.

She held her hands out toward him. “Do not be afraid. I am not going to hurt you.”

He twisted his lips in a show of bravado as he stood. “I… I’m not afraid. Much.”

“You are shaking like a frightened rabbit. Why are you looking at me like that?”

He swallowed and his eyes flicked downward.

She looked down at her breasts. “These?”

He nodded.

“What? They are just appendages.”

“No, they’re… boobs.”

“Boobs.” She played the word around her tongue, repeating it several times. “What is wrong with boobs?”