Feral Heart Edit by Duron Crejaro (the top 100 crime novels of all time txt) 📕

me, its head cocked to the side. It seemed familiar as I gazed into its eyes. Beautiful I thought as the shadows took me. Beautiful light brown, with flecks of emerald green that seemed to dance with one another, then, I was gone. Chapter 6: Rescuer

 

Darkness still blanketed the world. I was certain of that much when I cracked my eyes open for a split second. With that sensation came the realization that I was aware, and if I was aware then I was somehow still alive. The fear, and panic left me drained, and only the flickering amber light kept me from closing my eyes to drift off in a relaxing peaceful slumber again. I could feel the shining warmth of a fire that caused a shocking display of light across my closed eyes, the light bothered the part of my mind that begged for more sleep. The memory of green eyes flashed through my mind as I lay there half in and out of reality. Suddenly, it hit me like a bolt of lightning, all the events leading up to my blackout crashed through my mind in a rolling wave of panicked thoughts.

 

I surged to a sitting position, scanning my surroundings. A fearful desperation filled me along with a twinge of disappointment in myself. It wasn’t like me to lose control of my faculties in such a way. Not only was it now well into the evening, but somehow I had made it inside a half collapsed building, in which a fire had been built up. Nearby, half the ceiling had collapsed in, leaving the room half shielded and yet still open to the night sky. The fire was small, but well-tended. Small tendrils of smoke drifted up through to the sky till they were picked up by a light breeze and blown away.

 

I scooted closer to the fire, attempting to break some of the chill that was wrapped around my bones. Next, I checked myself over, looking for broken bones, and the like. Other than a few scrapes and bruises I felt otherwise uninjured. Then, I surveyed my surroundings a little closer, it was an effort in futility however, as of course, being night, everything looked different, and I wasn’t really sure where I was. It was one of the pitfalls of the Old World there were no street signs, and no light pollution. If that could be considered a downside that is.

 

A noise rose above the crackling of the fire and nocturnal chirps and squeals of animals, the sound of footsteps as they crunched rubble on concrete. A figure moved towards me, hidden within the shadows of the night. The figure caused a dull pit to form in my stomach before stepping into the circle of light produced by the fire. The young man of course was the Wylder I had seen recently, and had come to my rescue just hours before. He was carrying an armful of wood, gathered to keep the fire blazing. He dropped it in a pile near the fire before taking a seat across from me, keeping the flames between us as if I were some dangerous animal to be kept at bay. The thought made me laugh out loud.

 

He tilted his head, caught off guard by my mirth. He pulled his knees into his chest, resting his crossed arms upon them as he looked at me. His skin carried an almost golden kiss to it as the firelight played across his tanned muscles. His shaggy hair seemed darker, and while not unkempt, was allowed to run wild. He seemed less strange as I studied him, less foreign. I had to remind myself that not long ago, this young harmless looking guy had fought off a pack of wild dogs as an enormous cat creature the likes of which I had never seen before. Now though, he seemed harmless. His strong chin, and high cheekbones matched perfectly with his round curious eyes. Those same sparkling green orbs I had seen on our first meeting, then again earlier tonight.

 

“You’re a Wylder?” It came out in a quiet tone, half a question, the other half a statement of fact, “And you. You saved me.” I let my voice drift off.

 

His head cocked to the other side in that same odd fashion of confusion he seemed to wear. “What no questions this time?” I asked, unnerved by his silence. “Not going to sniff me some more?” I began to grow aggravated as he watched me in silence. I’m not really sure what bothered me more, his aloof nature or my helplessness earlier that evening. Maybe it was the fact that he had saved me, and now I felt indebted to him?

 

I began to throw out questions, attempting to alleviate the silence between us. “Well do you at least have a name? Do you know what time it is? How long was I out?” In vain it seemed was my efforts, as he just watched me. I gave up and watched him watch me. The silence was palpable, broken only by the crackle and occasional pop of the fire as it released small embers that drifted skyward like small fireflies before winking out of existence.

 

“Tarin.” A single word broke the silence, causing me to raise my eyebrows at him. “My name,” He added as an afterthought to my questioning gaze while absentmindedly poking at the fire with a stick, causing a spastic eruption of orange embers to rise. “And I’m not a Wylder. Only people like you call us that.” I could almost feel the irritation in his voice at the last.

 

“Then what are you?”

 

“What do you care? You haven’t even thanked me for saving you.” His tone was indignant, not that I could blame him, he was right, even if it didn’t appease my irritation.

 

“Thanks,” I returned, letting the steel of rashness free in my voice.

 

He shrugged and stood; everything about the simple movement exuded a grace that was of another world. “Dawn,” He motioned at nothing in particular. “Is in about an hour. Keep the fire going, though I doubt you will need it. Most of the dangerous things have retired for the night.” He stood, and turned to leave, then paused a moment. “I told you my name. What’s yours?”

 

“Eliza,” It came out almost too softly. “Eliza Blayne.” Then, he was gone.

Chapter 7: Home Front

 

I arrived home shortly after dawn, and slid the door open, with as little sound as I could manage. It didn’t matter. My parents sat on the couch facing the door, in quiet contemplation. A look of disappointment marred their usual sunny disposition. Oh crap.

 

My father started, “Were on earth have you been young lady?” The ire in his tone quiet apparent.

 

“Dad.” I started, only to be interrupted by my mom.

 

“Don’t try to make excuses either missy. You tell us right now where you were.” She added.

 

 

My mind raced, trying to fabricate a believable story to sooth my parent’s tempers. My pulse quickened, and heat rose to my face as I quelled the tremble in my voice before speaking. “I was with Cami. We had to start work on a project at school. We fell asleep, and I didn’t wake up till this morning. I’m so sorry.”

 

They looked at me, unconvinced. Then turned away, whispering to each other. I rolled my eyes a little while they weren’t watching, and hoped they bought my story. They looked back at me, outrage and vehemence on their faces, stemming from the fact that it was unannounced and they were uninformed of the situation and had not given their approval. This was one time I was glad that my parents were busy professionals and didn’t move in the same social circles as Cami’s folks. It made it unlikely that they would check out my story any deeper than taking my word for it. As it stood, I got off light I thought, with only a week’s grounding to show for it. I feigned anger at the punishment, when in reality I was relishing the fact that I had pulled the wool over their eyes.

 

Dhamon was absent from school this day, but I was so tired from the previous night’s ordeal that I didn’t even notice. Cami pointed it out to me during lunch; I shrugged it off that he must be sick and went silent, brooding. After a few minutes of silence between us, Cami leaned in close to me and whispered. “Ok, so what happened?” I gave her an incredulous look that said, I have no idea what you’re talking about. She didn’t buy it at all. “Come on, you’ve been silent and moody every time I’ve seen you today. What gives?” She batted her pretty lashes at me, pressuring me with the look on her face. “Spill it.”

 

My first instinct was to continue my feigned ignorance; I even opened my mouth to protest that I had no clue. Her blue eyes stared into me, and for the briefest of moments almost looked incandescent. Suddenly I found myself pouring over the story of my near death and unexpected rescue despite my earlier reluctance. In epic detail, I described the mysterious Wylder boy, and how I had come upon him in the Old World. Cami wore what I can only describe as a look of stark utter astonishment. She stared at me wide eyed as she took a few moments to collect herself from the shock of the story. Soon she had a clearer head, and in hushed tones began to interrogate me over our half eaten lunch. Most of her questions were answered with I don’t knows and I’m not sure. Of course that was when she dropped her bombshell question on me, eyes twinkling with anticipatory delight. “Are you going to see him again?”

 

I hadn’t even thought about it, and was stunned to silence, unable to come up with a proper response. How the hell should I know? Of course I wanted to? She giggled, not really expecting an answer, so she gave one herself. “Of course you are!” She said excitedly. “And when you go out there next time, you’re taking me along!”

 

After school, I went straight home, part of my punishment. Straight home from school they had said. Parent’s right? I groaned as I tossed my book bag onto the bed. With nothing else to do, except homework, and who wants to do that, I decided to indulge myself in an overly hot shower. While water wasn’t exactly