Adapt (I)
Chapter Sixty Three

Boe

I look up in time to see Scarlet’s beautiful chestnut and amber eyes spark. I have seen her eyes glow white before. It is a distant light and only appears when I kiss her. It hadn’t bothered me, though it probably should have.

It doesn’t bother me now, though it definitely should.

“Scarlet?”

Her eyes just narrow at me.

“Ranger.” I say, my tone soft. I feel like I am trying to calm a wild animal.

She tilts her head to the side. In the distance I can hear helicopters blades chopping the air. I can also hear the vehicles winding down the dirt road. When Alex told me that he planned to bring a full squadron I had thought it was over-kill for one small girl.

Right now, I am not sure if it is enough.

“Sweetheart.” My last resort. I take a chance and step closer to her, then smooth my thumb over her cheek.

The sparks in her eyes flicker and fade. I watch as she returns. “There you are.” I say, letting my relief saturate my words.

“I can’t – hold it back.” Her words are clipped. “You need to – run.” The sparks in her eyes begin to flash again. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes ignite.

I have never seen anything like it. This isn’t the neon glow of a Therian’s eyes. This is alive. Her pupils dilate and nearly swallow her irises. The thin ring of her iris begins to burn and swirl in white and gold flames.

She swings and hits me in the temple with her cuffs.

Dots dance in my vision as I plumet to the ground. I recover quickly though. You don’t win as many fights as I have without being able to take a few hits.

Without any preamble, I crouch and launch into a tackle. It isn’t a move I usually use in a fight, due to how exposed it leaves me and how little real damage it inflicts on an opponent. Scarlet isn’t an opponent, though.

She gnashes her teeth at me as I try to wrestle her down. She tries to use her legs to free herself, working to get her knees between my body and hers. Holy shit, she is strong. I wrangle her cuffed hands and pin them above her head. I notice one of her hands is gripping her dagger. She finally gets one leg between us and she pushes.

Bile rises in my throat as every organ in my body is rearranged by her knee. The force flings me back, landing on my back in the long grass. I find myself rising from the ground and rushing at her again. This time she anticipates my attack and side steps me easily.

Wind begins to whip my face and I know that the helicopter is finding a place to land. Shouldn’t Scarlet have passed out by now? She passed out when Alex had knocked on her door. Surely a team of hunters would have flattened her by this point.

Instead, she looks like a caged lioness, all teeth and claws. Her focus isn’t just on me, it is on everything – the helicopter in the sky, the wind as it rustles the trees. Even her head angles right to left, picking up the distant sound of the vehicles racing down the dirt road.

“Ranger!” I shout over the roar of the helicopter blades.

Her flaming gaze locks on me. Don’t waste time, I think. In a flash, I am inside of her circle and knocking her legs out from under her. This time I straddle her. Her knees crack into my spine, but I can handle it.

“Scarlet, Sweetheart, I need you to calm down. Remember why we are doing this! For Trent! For Caron! For your brother and sister!” I grip her cuffs again and press them to her chest. She presses back at me, her strength easily lifting my weight. I counter with my own strength. “Fuck, Scarlet, for me! Calm, the fuck down, for me!” I strain against her.

The fire in her eyes slows, the strength in her arms easing.

“Please.” I say, through gritted teeth.

She stops struggling against me. I am finally getting through to her.

Then the helicopter makes its landing and the small vibration it sends through the ground triggers Scarlet again. Her eyes burn brighter. I can feel heat radiating from her.

I have overpowered her before. What did I do?

I stabbed her.

The idea hurts like running my tongue along the blade of a freshly sharpened dagger.

But it is the only idea I have.

My focus lasers in on the dagger in Scarlet’s hands.

Without thinking, I release my grip on her cuffs and pry the blade from her grip. Then I plunge it into the hollow of her collar bone and sharply pull it out. No hunter can die by their own blade; the magic in our blades protects us, but it can definitely severely injure. I watch the pain flash across Scarlet’s face as the air in her lungs leaves through the wound. Scarlet’s eyes flicker and fade, the look in her eyes completely foreign.

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Her mouth moves, trying to say something. She probably wants to call me a son of a bitch. She is definitely entitled to spit any curse she wants at me.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, before we are completely surrounded by the hunters.

Scarlet’s head slumps to the side.

Well at least I will have no difficulty convincing them she is dead.

Black clad figures weave in and out of the beams of light created by the parked vehicles and the helicopter flood lights. They are in full SWAT gear – bullet proof vests, blades and handguns poised, helmets protecting their faces.

Logan had told me that if there were more than ten, he would have to pull on energy around him. I have no idea what that means, but there are at least thirty guards surrounding me right now. There would be at least one person waiting in each vehicle as well. I estimate forty Hunters total.

Shit.

You better know what the fuck you are doing! I yell at Logan in my mind.

I look up at the thirty flashlights pointed in my face and squint. They have lined themselves up around me in typical formation. I almost roll my eyes. The line breaks a little and from behind it emerges a figure.

“What happened here?” Alex’s gruff voice projects from the silhouette.

I toss Scarlet’s dagger the grass and lift myself from her limp body, praying that she really is down for the count.

I force myself to straighten and with the motion, force my mind to go blank. I can feel guilty later. I assume my military stance in front of Alex, hands clasped behind my back, gaze staring at eye level, but at no one in particular.

I begin my speech, my disciplined monotone emerging. “I underestimated the targets speed and strength. I should have taken more precautions in restraining her.”

The silhouette of Alex’s head tilts. “She must have taken you by surprise. You seem a little worse for wear.”

He isn’t wrong. I can feel blood trickling down from my temple and my lip is sore. My gut doesn’t hurt, but tomorrow will definitely prove the bruises.

I do not respond, though. I was trained by the tutors at Head Quarters. Those tutors eat the military’s drill sergeants for breakfast. As a six-year-old being ripped from your home and shoved into a sociopathic – borderline cult – school of supernatural soldiers, you soon learn that you answer questions only when they are asked and addressed to you.

Alex steps forward, coming into focus and shadowing some of the flashlights shining in my face. “Have you killed her?”

I have to hold back my gulp. “I believe so.” I say.

“Are you sure?”

I narrow my gaze. “It would be best if you would verify, but yes, I am sure.”

Alex watches me for a moment too long, studying my face. I stare back, trying to appear unphased even though I am sweating bullets. Then, Alex brushes past me and goes toward Scarlet.

This is it. It is all on Logan now.

Everything is silent around me. Well, by silent I mean that no one is talking or moving. The helicopters engine still whirs, and the breeze ruffles the trees in the shadows. The flashlights continue to shine obnoxiously into my eyes, burning my retinas.

Come on, Asshole. Now or never, I think.

“Now, now, is name calling really necessary?”

My eyes widen as I turn to see Logan standing behind me, looking down at Scarlet’s body. His gaze travels to Alex, who is frozen, as if a therian isn’t three feet from him.

I brace for the thirty odd hunters surrounding me, to unleash fire on Logan.

This is it, I think. If they start shooting, I am dead.

Logan takes in one purposeful breath. “You needn’t worry, puppy dog. They are immobile, completely unaware of everything that is happening around them.”

I blink at him. He can freeze more than thirty people at a time? I swallow. “No wonder you have flown under the radar for so long.” I say, my speech shakier than I would have liked. I wipe the sweat off my brow, knowing that my adrenaline rush is fading. Warily, I walk toward the circle of hunters and test their awareness by waving my hand in front of one of their faces. Through the clear visor of her helmet, I can see her vacant expression that remains steady instead of following motion. I look to the man beside her, who is also staring off into the distance.

God damn, that is creepy.

I look back at Logan, who has taken a knee beside Scarlet, lifting the fabric of her sweatshirt at her shoulder to assess the injury I inflicted.

“She was going to kill all of the hunters.” I say, defending myself before he can say anything.

He doesn’t look up. He doesn’t say anything. He just presses his lips together.

“Do you know what type of therian she is?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “First of all, I take issue with your use of the word therian. Or rather, the definition you place on it as a hunter. She is much more than an anthropomorphized animal.” He spits the last words.

I roll my eyes, not that he can see. “Well, I figured that much out when her eyes lit up with flames. So, if Therian isn’t the right word for her, what is?”

Reaching into his pocket, Logan pulls out a simple switch blade knife, flicks out the blade and slices down his finger. Then he rubs his finger over Scarlet’s wound. “I’m not sure yet. She was born, not made. Her powers will only become apparent when she Adapts during her coming of age.”

“I know you think you are answering my questions, but you really aren’t.” I snap.

He stands up and looks straight into my eyes – something he should not have been able to do since I am standing behind the wall of flashlights. “I am answering the questions you ask. You are just not asking the correct questions. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to get this over and done with before she wakes up.” Then his eyes begin to glow.

“Wait.” I say.

Logan’s eyes fade down to a half simmer. “What?”

I chew on the inside of my cheek for a second before I let myself ask the question I had denied myself, since formulating this plan. “Am I going to see her again?”

Logan gives me a look of... sympathy, which grates on my nerves.

“Mayhap not.”

Then his eyes blaze blue-white, brighter than all of the flashlights shining toward Logan and blinding me. All of the blood drains from the crown of my head, down my face. Feeling retreats from my fingertips. Before I can scream out, I feel myself slump and fall to my knees. My stomach balls and knots, then lurches. I hurl all of the bile in my stomach onto the ground in front of me. My body feels as though it is hollowing out, all of my energy draining out of me.

Energy. Logan had said that if there were more than ten hunters, he would have to pull energy from somewhere else.

That somewhere else is me, I realize.

I look up to Scarlet. She is still limp on the ground, her face angled toward me. She looks so peaceful, as though she is asleep, not mortally injured.

Perhaps it is my weakening strength, or something else, but something inside of me shifts and clicks. If I have to die to save her... well I don’t think I mind.

Her dark hair is splayed on the ground. I feel the last of my consciousness ebbing.

God, why didn’t I tell her that I love her? She had yelled it at me and all I could do was stare at her. Her words had rocked me to the core. So much so that I couldn’t find my tongue.

“Scarlet...” I manage to breath her name. “No…” but words die on my lips.

Nothingness consumes me.

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