Page 10 of Stealing Embers

It growls low in its throat in a show of impatience.

“Listen up, buddy. I don’t make a habit of climbing on strange animals.”

The overgrown house cat rolls his eyes another time, proving he understands every word coming out of my mouth.

He takes a step forward, and I scramble up and over the car hood behind me. Sliding off the other side, I take off in a sloppy run.

There’s another stairwell on the opposite side of the parking deck that I’m determined to reach.

Behind me, a roar morphs into a loud caw. It’s like someone is jamming knitting needles into my eardrums. I stop myself from bringing my hands up to cover my ears, so I can keep pumping my arms as I run.

A wave of displaced air slams into my back a moment before I’m airborne, feet still moving as if I can run on wind.

The gusts of rushing air steal my gasp. A talon wrapped around each of my biceps keeps me suspended in air.

Sucking in a lungful, I ready myself to let out a scream, but before I can release it, we bank hard and the exclamation lodges itself in my throat.

We soar through city streets and take corners so quickly, I’m sure we’re going to crash into the side of a building. Craning my neck, I confirm I’m in the clutches of a giant bird. Its wingspan alone is easily twice the length of my body.

I struggle against its hold to no avail.

I’ve survived my entire life completely alone in this split reality, but I’ve never seen anything close to what I witnessed today.

People appearing in the spectrum world with the same glowing aura as me.

Battles between the shadow beasts I’ve spent my whole life either hiding or running from.

Giant animals that understand English.

My head aches from more than the knocks it has taken. If I make it through this day alive, I’m going to find an underground bunker somewhere to live the rest of my life out in seclusion. Somewhere I can exist free of this terror.

I swallow a scream as we bank and swoop toward the ground. A couple more feet and my toes will skim the pavement in an industrial neighborhood I recognize. I spent several winter nights in one of the abandoned buildings here.

There isn’t a single human aura in sight.

“Let me go, you overgrown turkey!” I yell at my captor.

An angry caw answers, followed by a violent shake that rattles my already jumbled brain.

When this bird lets me go, I am going to kick its feathered butt from here to next weekend.

Our speed slows and I notice a white van idling about a block ahead.

Oh gosh, it’s a cliché kidnapper van.

A couple of people with pulsating white auras stand close to it. I can’t make out their features beyond identifying a dark-haired male and female. The guy is leaned up against the kidnapper van, doing something on his phone. The girl is pacing.

“I’m serious!” I shout at the bird. I would bet money it can understand me, and I’m willing to annoy it into dropping me. “If you don’t let me go, I’m going to hunt you down and make sure you’re the centerpiece of my Thanksgiving meal! All that fat I see on you will make a juicy—ahhh!”

I’m falling.

I don’t have time to release a scream before my feet connect with the unforgiving pavement several car-lengths ahead of the white van.

I try to duck into a roll, but I’m not fast enough.

I stupidly hadn’t actually expected or prepared to be released when I was conducting my verbal assault on the flying brute.

My legs crumple under me right before my side slams against the asphalt. The momentum throws my legs over my head, and I end up doing several awkward rag-doll flops before I stop moving.