Page 8 of My Guardian Gryphon
“Yes, General Xerxes.” The Djinn male stepped through the semi-open oval office door and bowed his head.
“Do you have the current location of Commander Martin?” I stood from the grand desk and moved around it toward Cal.
“Yes, General.”
I took his outstretched hand. Space folded around me, whooshing past like I’d been sucked through a vacuum. My heart skipped one beat, and I held my breath until we re-materialized. I’d been traveling this way for thousands of years, and it still surprised me a little.
The New York City skyline stretched out ahead of me, brilliant and bright and an example of extraordinary human ingenuity. The Washington Republic had capitalized on having technology above and beyond what most of the country possessed—except the small hub of very advanced research and development in California.
Most of the East Coast’s bustling metropolises continued to function at the same capacity they always had. The smaller cities were the ones that had turned to ghost towns. The power plants required a great deal of upkeep, and only the cities with money to pay continued to receive a steady supply of utility services.
“Commander Martin’s temporary base of operations is behind us.”
I turned, taking in the view of hundreds of army green tents and military vehicles. The rolling landscape seemed to crawl with movement. All organized. There were no shouts of rebellion. No shots echoing through the quiet.
The humans never saw it coming.
Grabbing Cal’s arm, I nodded. We blinked through another vortex, this time reappearing inside a large tent. A few snarls slipped from some of the men before I was recognized. Their demeanor shifted immediately from that point forward. Straight backs. Eyes on the ground. Silence.
“Commander Martin,” I said, keeping my voice level and low. “Your reports are excellent. Where are the troops you’re offering a chance to join ranks?”
The tall dark-skinned male stepped from the shadows. A cruel smile twisted his handsome face, reminding me why he’d been the perfect choice to lead half my army. He shared my bloodlust for pain and torture.
“The loyalty ceremony starts at the top of the hour. If you’ll follow me, I have a place set up for you to observe, or participate,” he answered, his tone pleasant and eager.
“How many accepted at the last one?”
“Twenty-two out of the hundred.”
I exited the tent ahead of Martin, and we walked across the base toward a more permanent steel structure. The scent of blood clung to the air, and I breathed deeply, taking in the familiar fragrance of a conquered enemy.
“The next hundred for this afternoon have already been lined up. Cal let us know you might be coming through.”
“Excellent. I look forward to seeing your progress.”
“Thank you, General. It is my honor. If you will excuse me for a moment?” He paused, waiting for permission.
I nodded, and he gestured me toward a raised concrete platform before disappearing through a side door. Rows of men in steel shackles flowed from a door across the open area, herded by soldiers in black with ready rifles in their arms. The footsteps of the men thudded heavily—knowing this might be their last walk on the Earth they called home.
One man on the end of the farthest row elbowed the nearest guard in the face and made a run for the door on the opposite side of the room. Suicide by guard? Surely he knew he wouldn’t get off that easily. My army was conditioned to desire blood and pain and suffering. The Lycan’s were taking their revenge against humans for centuries of being hunted, and their rage in turn furthered my rise to power.
“Halt or die, human.” The guard he’d hit raised his rifle and took aim.
Cal shifted behind me, and I nodded. A moment later, he appeared in front of the fleeing man. The human lunged to the right, attempting to avoid Cal’s block. The Lycan guard lowered his rifle and smiled, allowing my man to do as he pleased.
The Djinn blinked twice more. Then again. And again.
“What the fuck!” The desperation in the human’s voice echoed through the building. The other captives standing quietly in rows watched, their expressions rotating between horror and fear. Most had probably never seen a Djinn in person, much less watched one move effortlessly from point to point within the same nanosecond.
The human finally gave up and sank to his knees. Cal materialized in front of the kneeling human, pulling a scimitar from the sash around his waist. “Say a prayer to your God, human. My master has granted me your life-force.”
“Fuck you and the creature that bore you.” The human spit into blank air.
Cal reappeared behind the man. He sliced through both of the captive’s Achilles tendons, moving so quickly he barely stained his blade.
The man screamed out, but didn’t fall completely to the ground. He faced his death with pride. A shame he wouldn’t be joining my ranks. Strength of will like that was difficult to come by.
Cal blinked again to face his victim, sliding his sword slowly into the soft part of the human’s belly. Blood poured from the wound, and the soldier clutched at his stomach, holding back his entrails.