Feral Empires: Fanning Flames Read online

  Copyright 2019 by Stephen L. Hadley

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  Fanning Flames

  Feral Empires

  Book Two

  By Stephen L. Hadley

  Chapter One

  It had been more than an hour since they’d stopped for the night, but Liam’s feet were still killing him. He’d tried rubbing the aches from them when the halt was first announced. Unfortunately, it hadn’t helped.

  Frankly, it was rather infuriating. He could survive getting his legs blown off but a few days’ marching could leave him limping and grimacing? It just didn’t seem fair.

  Fortunately, he wasn’t given long to dwell on it. Scarcely had he pulled off his boots when Jenn materialized from the darkness and tugged at his belt with one of the innumerable vines that hung about her shadowy sides. It was not a subtle gesture and drew muted laughter from the men traveling with them. Not that he’d let that stop him from accepting his dark-haired lover’s invitation.

  And so, as he had the last two nights since abandoning the Institute and its plush, pillowed beds, Liam found himself sprawled out inside a covered hammock of leaves and vines. Jenn reclined against him, sighing contentedly and tracing his ribs with a finger. The touch tickled but was oddly comforting.

  The silence, however, was not.

  “You’re quiet,” he noted.

  Jenn scowled at him. Or at least, he assumed she did. The sky was overcast and the night was dark so he had only her body language to inform his opinions.

  “And you were loud,” she countered, elbowing him. Growing serious, she snuggled closer and rested her cheek on his chest. “I guess I’m just on edge.”

  “Why?” Liam asked. He was growing increasingly aware of how Jenn’s bare breasts were pressing against his side and his body was responding accordingly, again. Luckily, the darkness hid his distraction long enough to clear his throat and reply. “We haven’t seen a single Occ since we left.”

  “Exactly. They should be all over. So why haven’t we—fuck!” Jenn yelped the last word and recoiled so violently that she nearly upset the hammock.

  Whirling, Liam saw why.

  A petite, narrow face peeked through the broad leaves comprising the walls of the hammock-tent. Its owner had apparently hooked her legs over a branch above them since her grin was inverted and her short, golden hair framed her brow like a beard.

  “Liam sleeping?” Kathryn asked in a stage whisper. “Kathryn blood-hungry. Can feed now?”

  “I’m going to kill her,” Jenn muttered into his chest. “I swear. One of these days, I’ll do it.”

  Chuckling, Liam leaned over and kissed the top of her head. It smelled faintly of pine needles.

  “You and me both,” he whispered back. Then, loud enough for the dangling girl to hear him, added, “Fine. Just climb down before you hurt yourself, Kat.”

  The spritely head bobbed once and withdrew. A second later, the sound of rustling branches filtered through the walls of the hammock.

  Sighing, Jenn rolled to face away from him. “You shouldn’t say yes all the time,” she said. “It’s spoiling her. She’ll start to expect it.”

  “It makes her useful,” he pointed out, delicately.

  “It makes her horny,” Jenn growled. She shoved him with a heel, not hard but not good-naturedly either. “Go feed your pet.”

  “Jenn….”

  He felt he ought to argue the point but the rigidity of Jenn’s shoulders made it clear she was not interested in further discussion. Giving a sigh of his own, Liam carefully swung his legs over the edge of the hammock. Leaning forward, he peeked out and retrieved his trousers from the branch where he’d hung them. He pulled them on, then gingerly grasped an available branch and began to descend.

  Jenn had strung up the hammock barely a foot higher than he was tall, but the darkness made his descent far more challenging than it would have been in the daylight. It took him several minutes to successfully navigate his way to the ground. It was only upon reaching it, however, that he realized there was no sign of Kathryn. He glanced around, frowning, then crept silently toward the distant, well-hidden glow of the militiamen’s campfire.

  “Kat?” he whispered. “Where are you?”

  With an impish laugh, Kathryn dropped from the darkness, inches from his head. Or swung, rather, since she’d apparently ignored his earlier instructions and chosen to remain among the tree’s lower limbs. Hanging by her knees, she grinned at him in a self-satisfied manner.

  “Liam!” she chirped. “Here!”

  Rolling his eyes, Liam grasped her dress and hiked it back into place. Hanging upside down, the makeshift garment had pooled around her ribs. And as much as he might otherwise have appreciated the eyeful, the last thing he wanted was for Jenn to spy him ogling the vampire. Over the last few days, the two women had constantly been at each other’s throats, and his—literally in Kathryn’s case.

  “Get down here,” he grumbled. “Hurry up or I’m going back to bed.”

  Giggling, Kathryn did as instructed. She landed nimbly, crouching on all fours like a cat before pouncing at him. Had it been the first time, she might have succeeded in catching him unaware. But this was not the first time, or even the second. Liam caught her clumsily and managed to keep the scrawny girl from toppling him. Sweeping her up in his arms, he tossed her over his shoulder in an undignified heap and set off into the darkness.

  Kathryn squawked, squirming in his grasp. Her legs kicked weakly and her hands scrambled at his bare back but her protests were nominal at best. And once they were safely out of earshot of both Jenn and the others, Liam stooped and deposited her back on the ground.

  “Bastard,” Kathryn whispered, grinning conspiratorially.

  Liam frowned at her. “Who taught you that word?” he demanded.

  “Julie,” she replied without hesitation. Shifting her weight from one bare foot to another, she waited for him to make himself available.

  “Of course she did.” Sighing, Liam brushed a few twigs aside with his foot and sat. “You shouldn’t say that word. It’s not polite.”

  “Polite?”

  “You know… nice?”

  “Oh!” Kathryn climbed into his lap, hooking her legs around his back. Her eyes practically glowed as she stared at him. “Liam carry. Not nice. Bastard.”

  Rolling his eyes, Liam angled his head to expose his neck. Rather than bite him immediately, however, Kathryn’s grin widened. The sight of her fangs sent a preemptive twinge of pain down his spine and he promptly closed his eyes. Still, she did not bite him. Instead, she leaned in and nibbled the bare skin in what could almost have been a kiss. The feeling sent another thrill down his spine for an entirely different reason.

  “Blood-secret nice. Not bastard.”

  “Well, thank you,” he muttered. When the pain of Kathryn’s fangs still did not come, he cracked open an eye. “Kathr—”

  She bit down and he grunted at the burst of lightning that shot through his shoulder, burning to his fingertips and tailbone in the same heartbeat. The pain faded quickly, far quicker than it had when they’d first met. Though it had only been a few days, the intimacy of sharing his blood with the young vampire made him feel as though they’d met a lifetime ago.

  Kathryn hummed softly as she drank. That was another trick they’d learned since abandoning the Institute. As Liam’s enhancement matured, his body’s ability to close wounds had b
ecome much faster—including the puncture wounds caused by Kathryn’s fangs. Something about the vibrations of her humming kept the wounds from closing quite so rapidly, allowing her to nearly drink her fill without needing to bite again and again. They’d discovered that fact by accident, but it was one Liam was immensely grateful for.

  After several minutes, once the pain in his neck had faded entirely, Liam could almost have drifted off. The warmth and softness of Kathryn’s body against his was relaxing and the melody of her humming nearly a lullaby. Almost without meaning to, he found himself stroking her impossibly downy hair with one hand, the other swirling small circles between her shoulder blades.

  It was not until Kathryn began to squirm in his lap that his reverie ended.

  “Hey, hey!” he said. “Kathryn, stop that.”

  Stiffening, Kathryn pulled fully free of his shoulder. She remained there a moment, lapping up the last of his blood until the small wounds closed beneath her tongue. Then she drew back and gazed at him with cloudy eyes.

  “Stop?” she whispered. She blinked several times in quick succession until her eyes grew clear and golden once more.

  “Stop,” he repeated, glancing down significantly at his lap.

  Following the path of his eyes, Kathryn shifted once and offered a thin-lipped, pleading smile. “Please?” she whispered. “Secret-secret? Plant-girl say okay.”

  Liam sighed deeply. They’d had the same conversation multiple times in the last few days and his answer had never changed. Despite that fact, Kathryn continued to make the request with increasing frequency.

  And honestly, he was far closer to giving in than he would ever admit—especially to Jenn. It was a part of why he’d purposefully fed Kathryn only after she’d sated his appetite for physical comforts. The petite vampire had a mischievous charm about her that a part of him would be only too happy to put to the test. And it wasn’t as though her age was an issue; for all her innocence and small frame, Kathryn was practically of an age with Jenn. But still—

  “We can’t,” he explained, as always. “I love Jenn.”

  “Liam love Kathryn too.”

  “I do,” he admitted. With some difficulty, he climbed to his feet and fought to ignore the feeling of Kathryn’s body as it slid to the ground. “But not like that. I’m sorry.”

  Kathryn said nothing as she rose and brushed the dirt and clinging leaves from her dress. Folding her arms, she swayed slightly and would not look at him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Does that make me a bastard?”

  Kathryn snorted softly and even in the darkness, her face showed a sudden wistfulness. Shaking her head, she slipped her hand into his.

  “No,” she murmured. “Not bastard.”

  Hand-in-hand, they picked their way among the trees and brambles and made their way back toward the small, well-hidden camp. They were nearly there when something, a vague, intangible instinct, made the hair on the back of Liam’s neck stand up. He froze, having learned long ago to trust such instincts, and dropped silently into a crouch. At his side, Kathryn did likewise without question. Her fingers tightened around his.

  It took him a moment to identify what was out of place: The militiamen’s small campfire had been extinguished and the faint scent of its smoke hung in the air. A few seconds later, he spotted the reason.

  Another far-off campfire burned, several miles ahead of them but far more brazenly than anything Scott or one of his men would have dared. This close to the DMZ, there was only one group to whom it could belong.

  Occs.

  Heart beginning to pound, Liam crept back toward the remains of their recently extinguished fire. He and Kathryn made it within twenty yards before several of Scott’s men noticed them. The men responded instantly, rifles swinging toward them before lowering once more, far more slowly.

  Scott was waiting for him on the north side of the camp. Crouched and balancing on a fallen log, he studied the Occ encampment through his rifle scope.

  “Well?” Liam whispered. “Do you think they saw us?”

  Scott shrugged, lowering his rifle and resting it across his knees.

  “It’s possible,” he said. “Probably not, judging by the size of that fire. I’m not about to bet our lives on it though. We’ll break camp and head a mile east.”

  “Only a mile?”

  “There could be other Occs nearby,” Scott said, scowling. “Might be trying to spook us into a trap.”

  “We haven’t seen any though.”

  “Hunters, then. Either way, I’m not risking it. We’ll skip the fires until we cross the DMZ. Shouldn’t be long. It’s only about a day until we reach the Tennessee.”

  Liam grunted in agreement and glanced around. The camp was already a flurry of silent, practiced activity. Militiamen rolled bedrolls and filled packs with the remains of distributed supplies while Julie rounded up her children with the help of Nora, the enhanced woman they’d sprung from the Institute. Though it had been only a few days, Nora was already as much her child as Adam and Morgan. It was an odd dynamic, to be sure. Not the least because Nora, in particular, was every bit as old as Liam himself. And yet, where Nora treated the older woman with outright deference, Liam might as well have been just another militiaman.

  As if sensing his attention, Julie looked up and met his eyes. Flashing a grim smile, she nodded at him.

  Suddenly embarrassed and unable to say why, Liam turned his attention back on Scott. The man had lifted his rifle and was examining the distant fire once more.

  “Anything I can do?” Liam asked.

  Scott grunted, still peering down the scope. “Go wake your girlfriend,” he said. “Last time I tried, she nearly stabbed me with those vines of hers. Again.”

  ***

  Jenn was awake by the time Liam reached her. She had descended from the hammock-tent and was busy wrapping the tangled mess of leaves and vines around her midsection. She was so busy, in fact, that she failed to notice his approach. Turning, she spotted him and leapt back with a yelping curse.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, before she could speak. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t,” she muttered. Nodding past him toward the militiamen, she stretched and a few of her vines rose to loom threateningly over her shoulder. “Occs?”

  “A few miles off. Scott decided to move the camp, just in case.”

  “Good.” Grasping a few low-hanging branches with her vines, Jenn began to haul herself off the ground. “I’ll watch from the trees.”

  “Stay safe.”

  Jenn paused and looked down at him. Her eyes flitted to Kathryn, who shadowed Liam in silence. Then, with a sudden whip-like motion, she dropped back to the ground and kissed his lips with uncharacteristic shyness.

  “Thanks,” she whispered. “You too.”

  And then she turned, masking her embarrassment and launching herself back into the tree with a multitude of undulating vines. Liam grinned in her wake then pulled his pack and rifle from the hollow in the broadest tree’s trunk. Slinging both over his shoulder, he turned to Kathryn.

  “Walk or climb?” he asked.

  At first, Kathryn did not respond. She stared blankly, straight ahead and without any sign of having heard him.

  “Kathryn?” he prompted, louder.

  “Climb,” she said, still not looking at him. Before he could say or do anything more, she scrambled up the side of the tree and out of sight.

  Grumbling a little, Liam shifted his rifle to a readier position and headed back toward the now disassembled camp. Why should it bother him if Kathryn was being petulant? Maybe Jenn was right; he spoiled her too much. It got her hopes up in unwise ways.

  Working through such thoughts, Liam failed to pay attention to where he was walking and nearly stumbled headfirst into Nora. The woman sidestepped gracefully, grinning and cradling the child in her arms.

  “Careful,” she whispered. “Don’t want to wake thi
s one. She’d bring them down on us faster than a dozen campfires.”

  Liam nodded in agreement and carefully picked his way past the woman. He could feel Nora staring after him as he headed for the far end of the camp. He didn’t look back, instead focusing on the Irregulars and the formation they were silently adopting. As usual, he took up position at the fore.

  Navigating silently through the woods was oddly relaxing, in a nerve-wracking sort of way. Liam could trust Kathryn and Jenn to take care of themselves and Scott would doubtless do the same for Julie and Nora, so the only thing he needed to focus on was himself. The weight of the gear slung across his shoulders, the sturdiness of the rifle in his arms, and the effort required to move invisibly all served to anchor him and keep his restless mind from wandering. And of course, the knowledge that he might see the Occs at any moment kept his thoughts occupied as well.

  The rest of their caravan stretched out behind him for approximately a hundred meters. Some of Scott’s senior militiamen had initially objected to Liam’s taking point, but a few quiet words from their lieutenant had silenced the protests.

  It made sense; who better to head a convoy than the man who could shrug off the opening volley of a potentially fatal ambush?

  After ten minutes of walking, the path before them narrowed and Liam slowed, then stopped. He ducked into the shadow of a particularly large oak and waited for the next few men to catch up. Scott was among them and gave a slight nod in Liam’s direction. He didn’t speak, but the flicker of his eyes toward the narrowing terrain made his thoughts clear.

  “Bad spot,” whispered Hensley, one of the platoon’s sergeants. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he looked to Scott. “Woods look pretty thick.”

  “You see anything?” Scott asked.

  Liam shook his head. “Just a feeling.”

  It was hard to miss the looks shared by several of the gathered men. Liam felt the stares acutely. Scott, on the other hand, reached out and patted his shoulder encouragingly.

  “You made the right call,” he said. “Sessions, Hensley, you come with me. The rest of you follow in ten.”