Page 38 of Taken for Granite
He flexed his wings, pleased to discover the broken wing healed and healthy, if stiff. The same could be said about his entire body: healthy but stiff.
With a grin, he glanced down at his calmly resting cock. Not stiff. ThankLarthat was behind him.
Tas strode to the balcony, throwing open the door. Clouds partially obscured the moon and the threat of rain hung in the air.
The perfect night for flying.
With a growl, he leaped from the balcony. Long ignored muscles burned pleasantly as his wings worked to gain altitude. The soft glow of the cabin fell away and he lost himself in the night sky. The occasional light pierced the darkness below, but the forest remained largely free of humans and their clutter. The bracing coolness of the air and the first scattering drops of rain felt like freedom against his skin. He was whole again. He was himself at last.
He felt the pull of his sigil. Awareness of the device had increased in strength as Juniper drove north. Wherever the Rose Syndicate kept her sibling, he knew he would find his sigil and the trap Rhododendron had waiting for him. He was certain that Juniper was not an agent, refusing to believe that someone with her compassion could work for a heartless organization. Her reactions to him, to the violence the Syndicate left in its wake, to everything, had been real.
Every thought, every emotion registered in her voice, her breaths, and the pounding of her heart. She had been nothing more than herself, an open book for him to read in raised bumps, and he had been a fool for doubting her. But why shouldn’t he believe in the very worst of human nature? He had experienced nothing but brutality for so long it eclipsed all the things he had enjoyed about Earth and walking among humans. Briefly, he entertained the thought of walking alongside Juniper, watching wonder and delight flicker across her face. He just knew that every thought would be transmitted on her face.
If he knew what her face looked like.
The sigil pulled him to the north and slightly to the west, luring him back to a Syndicate facility. Chances were that the Syndicate did not understand how the sigil functioned or that it called to him, but if they knew…
He hated the feeling of knowing he flew into a trap, but there was nothing to be done to avoid it. He needed the sigil if he wanted to return home.
He could leave now and perhaps catch Rhododendron off guard. A lone Khargal could infiltrate the facility easier than if he were burdened with Juniper.
The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of leaving without Juniper. Flying at his top speed, he could reach his sigil by dawn. Unused muscles would require rest and nourishment before attempting to break into the Syndicate’s facility. Such an attempt during the day would be foolish, forcing him to wait for nightfall.
His chest tightened, realizing that could have his sigil back in less than a day and read the message from home.
His thoughts traveled back to Juniper and the plot to fly away seemed unsatisfactory. The Syndicate would kill the youngling once they determined that Tas had vanished. He could ignore that fact and make his life easier, but he would have no honor if he did so.
He turned back to the cabin. Juniper would never forgive him for leaving without a word and he gained nothing by rushing now. He would never forgive himself.
Pushing aside the sentimental claptrap, he had given her his word of honor and he would not break that word, even if it led to him being captured again. Besides, he wanted to see her face.
The cold wind invigorated him and he whooped with joy. Determined to share a flight with her, he landed on the balcony. The moment his foot touched the vile green carpet, his skin shifted into a more human shape and coloration. The process was not pleasant but not unbearable. Previously, he had shifted into a camouflaged form with hardly a thought. Now he studied himself in the mirror, getting the details correct. Would she know him like this, he wondered. Then, more disturbing, would she like him with this visage?
Once satisfied with his appearance, he found his female downstairs sleeping on the settee.
The first impression was that she was lovely, even sleeping with her mouth gaping open and moisture trickling down her chin. The second impression was of her very blue hair. Clearly a chemical treatment but still vibrantly blue. Faint worry lines on her brow marred her otherwise clear olive complexion, golden from the sun. He wanted to rouse her, to discover the color of her eyes and then kiss her. First a Khargal greeting of pressing foreheads together, and then a human meeting of lips and tongues.
He knew the shape of her, having mapped her with his hands and his mouth, but seeing the curves and planes of her altogether pleased him. Her appearance was as lovely as he knew her heart to be.
She woke and knew him instantly, even with his active camouflage.
14
Juniper
The sensation of being watched woke her. Juniper’s eyes fluttered open, reluctant to start the day, and her face damp from drool. Folds from the plastic dug into her skin everywhere, no doubt marking her.
A man stood over her, watching her with curiosity. His eyes were a vivid amethyst shot through with silver. They were beautiful eyes hardened with experience and they narrowed as he studied her.
“You snore and your hair is blue.”
She jerked upright, clutching the paperback to her chest. “Who are—” The question died on her lips at the man’s smirk of amused irritation. “Tas,” she said.
He nodded. “This is my human disguise. Good, no?”
Too good. His face had already been classically handsome—by human standards—but now it was too refined, almost delicate and unreal. His pale skin was a flawless peaches-and-cream complexion. His hair, somehow shoulder-length now, had a just-out-bed tousle that Juniper found far too sexy for her own good. Standing in front of her naked, she noted with relief that his dick remained the same, even if it was a boring beige color.
She never thought she’d be critical about waking with the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in real life standing in front of her, sporting a hard-on. He looked nice, but he didn’t look like her Tas. The only things about him that still looked like Tas were the horns on his head and the tail curled around his leg. And the smirk, of course.
