Seven Steps from Humanity- Chapter 2
Author: dream-edge
Title: Seven Steps from Humanity
Summary: AU VENJIX’s army wasn’t just machines. We could have handled machines. No. Someone had given VENJIX magic.
Rating: M
Pairings: Dillon/Ziggy, Scott/Summer, Gem/Flynn/Gemma, K/Tenaya
Disclaimer: I do not own the Power Rangers or anything related to the franchise.
Status: In Progress
Notes: Please see my journal here for background information, common terms, warnings, and further disclaimers. Information on races now added.
Part One: The Beginning Chapter 1 |
7 Steps from Humanity
Part One: The Beginning
Chapter 2
Flynn should have been surprised. He should have been shocked, surprised, even confused. But he wasn’t. When he arrived at the building that was slowly becoming his new home a week after he arrived in Corinth, he found Scott sitting on the couch in his father’s workshop. He blinked at the man’s sassy grin but couldn’t manage to work up the surprise that should be there. Scott being here felt… right, normal.
“Huh.”
Scott’s grin slid away at the bland respond. “That’s the best I’m going to get isn’t it?” he asked, sounding disappointed.
Flynn nodded. “Aye.” He looked around carefully. “An’ where’s my da’?”
“He agreed to look at my truck while I waited for you.” Scott said, then leaned forward like he was sharing a secret. “He doesn’t trust me.” Flynn snorted, unsurprised. His father didn’t trust anyone when it came to his son.
“Come on. Inside with you.” He ordered, leading Scott into the living part of the building. “Wha’ are ye doing here?” he demanded as he walked into the kitchen. “Wan’ a beer?” he asked. Scott nodded and plopped himself down on one of the seat’s at the island, taking a child-like amusement in spinning it around. Flynn resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “If ye get sick, ye’re cleanin’ it up.” He warned.
Scott’s feet landed hard on the foot railing, pulling him to an abrupt stop. Scott didn’t even seem slightly off-balance by the spinning, if his cheeky grin was anything to go by. Damn Predator races. “Wha’ are ye doing here?” he asked again, handing the Vampire one of the beers he’d pulled out of the frig.
“Wanted to check on you.” Scott answered, shrugging on shoulder. “Make sure you got settled in alright.” The Vampire cast a speculative look around the open house. Flynn shifted, aware that the living room was only half-way painted, that the hallway floor was still bare, and that the whole of the house was still in need of furnishing. It was to be expected, considering the government had only managed to find him and his father housing two days ago; the only reason they had managed to get housing that fast was because they both had mechanical training the city needed to get itself on its feet.
Scott looked back at him, expression blank. “It looks nice.” He said.
“Don’t mock me.” He snarled, magic gathering with his anger. So easy to give it direction, to say words in anger that could ruin Scott’s whole day- maybe a week, maybe his life if Flynn wasn’t careful-, to follow the channels Flynn had carved as a child and hadn’t been able to seal. Too easy to ill-wish, so hard to give out the kindness of luck.
“I’m not.” Scott said, spreading both hands wide. His voice was soft, filled with a quiet yearning that made Flynn pause, that made the anger die. No, not mocking. Just a quiet, half-acknowledged heart wish for a house that, even if unfinished, was at least home. Flynn sighed and grounded the power, let the anger go.
“Have ye word of Miss Summer?” Flynn asked carefully.
Scott’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah, actually.” He said. “She uh… she fell into shock not long after we arrived.” Scott informed, then, when he saw Flynn’s wide eyes, hurried to explain. “She’s alright now.”
“That’s good.” Flynn managed to get out, knowing he sounded strangled. He turned his attention to the beer in his hand and drained most of it in one gulp. “How are ye holdin’ up?” he asked.
Scott shrugged, playing his fingers through the precipitation on the bottle neck. “I’m alright. I’ve got a tense home situation. My father doesn’t… approve of my… needs.”
“Ye mean blood?” Flynn asked. When Scott nodded, he rolled his eyes. “That’s stupid.”
“He’s old-fashioned.” Scott said, voice bitter. “My brother’s great but he’s Human. He doesn’t get it.” Scott paused then snorted. “Great. Now I sound like I’m twelve.”
Flynn couldn’t stop the sharp laugh that burst from him at that; Scott frowned at him briefly then smiled slightly and shook his head. “Oh hey. I almost forgot.” Scott said, sitting up a little to pull a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Flynn watched in curiosity as Scott carefully unfolded it and smoothed it out before passing it to him. He took it carefully, looking over the… application? Was this an application? Yes, that’s what it was. For… Flynn squinted at the top of the page before his eyes widened. “Project Ranger?” he asked, looking up at Scott in shock.
The Vampire smiled at him somewhat cryptically and stood up. “Think about it.” Scott said, and saluted him with his beer. “Thanks.” He called, before walking out. Flynn didn’t follow. He stood in his kitchen and stared at the paper on his counter and finally let himself consider Project Ranger.
This was such a bad idea.
Flynn stood awkwardly among the crowd of people waiting for consideration for Project Ranger. He was very aware that of the multiple people here, he was the only one from a Passive race, if one ignored the random Witch here or there. Flynn was, because they had full battle magics and were well respected among even the toughest of the Predator races. Already he was getting a few hostile looks from those around him, though most seemed set on ignoring him.
This was all Scott’s fault. He hadn’t been planning on coming, really. He’d almost managed to push the thought of Project Ranger out of his mind. Then Scott had waltzed in and all but shoved the application form at him. He knew this was something for the Predator races, that a Human didn’t belong on the team, that merely coming today would give his dad a heart attack. But Scott had said to think about it and once he had, he couldn’t stop.
So he’d come. He’d come because he had a Hero Complex that was going to get him killed and no one who could distract him. He should have expected the quiet hostility.
Quite suddenly, an arm was slung over his shoulder, drawing his gaze to the petite woman next to him. He went very, very still because, holy shit, a Dea al Mon was hanging from his shoulders. A small, Asian Dea al Mon, but still from the best Predator race on the planet.
Dea al Mon were called the Children of the Wood because they were the first of the woodland kin, the first to display the woodland eyes, and because they were the perfect hunters. They were half-wild and always vicious in battle and if they weren’t born knowing what to do with a knife, it didn’t take them long to learn. They didn’t have metaphysical abilities, but they were the fastest and the strongest race, the only race that was resistant to magic, as well as one of the few that could smell magic. Even an fool knew to fear the Dea al Mon.
Flynn glanced at the hand lying innocently across his shoulders, so close to his throat, and was almost relieved to see the rumors that Dea al Mon had claws much like a Harpy were wrong. Almost, because he could see the bulge in her long sleeve where a knife was hidden.
“Hey-a!” she said brightly. “I’m Gemma and that’s-”
“Gem, her brother.”
Flynn bit his tongue to hold in his curse, turning his head to look at the other Dea al Mon that had snuck up on him. He was so going to make Scott’s life a living hell. “Hi.” He managed weakly. “I’m Flynn.”
Both grinned at him with smiles that were oddly comforting. “What-cha doing-”
“-here Flynn?”
He eyed the two carefully, wondering if the way of talking was just to throw people off or not. He wouldn’t put it past a Predator race to be a little unhinged. “I … uh… a friend convinced me to come.”
“Really?” Gemma asked, gazing up at him with eyes that saw too much of him. “That’s all?”
“Mostly.” He said carefully, aware of the brother shifting closer to him- and out of his line of sight. “I have a Hero Complex.”
“Really?” The brother asked from somewhere behind him, in a tone that was identical to the girl’s. “That’s nice.”
“Not so much. It’s really quite a pain.”
There was a flash of warm humor from both of them that made him relax. “Can I help you?” he asked unsurely.
Gemma’s smile was almost sweet. “You already have.” She told him. Her arm disappeared from his shoulders, causing him to shiver from the lack of warmth, and before he could say something, she disappeared into the crowd. When he looked behind him, the brother was gone as well. He blinked. How did two Dea al Mon disappear in a crowd of people that would prefer to be five feet from them at all times?
“Flynn!”
He turned around, already tired of being startled and confused and found Scott pushing his way through the crowd towards him; Flynn wondered if Scott’s mouth hurt from how big his smile was. “You came!” Scott said, sounding delighted. Once the man was close enough, Scott reached out and pulled him into a tight, short hug. “I almost didn’t think you would.”
“I shouldn’ be here.”
“Nonsense.” Scott said, shaking his head. The Vampire held him by his shoulders and looked at him intently. “Flynn, I honestly believe we wouldn’t have made it here without you.”
Flynn was already shaking his head before Scott had even finished. “Aye had nothin’ to do with tha’.”
Scott’s hands dropped from his shoulders as the other man frowned at him. “Yeah.” He said, obviously coming to a decision with himself. “We’re gonna have to work on that.” Flynn wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, except…
“Ay’m never gettin’ rid of ye, am Aye?”
Scott’s grin was all the answer he needed. Flynn sighed heavily.
“I should be surprised, right?” a soft, feminine voice asked. Flynn focused his eyes over Scott’s shoulder and was almost surprised to see Summer standing there. Almost, but not really. Summer was here. Of course Summer was here. Then Scott turned around, allowing Flynn a better look at the young woman and Flynn’s growing smile faltered. Summer had cleaned up nicely from the last time he had seen her, but her hair hung in limp curls around her face that dulled the color to a pale wheat and put the shadows around her eyes into sharp contrast.
“Lady Summer?” Scott asked, sounding as concerned as he felt.
“Scott.” She greeted, nodding at him with a quiet dignity that belied how truly exhausted she looked. “Flynn. I’m glad to see you two are alright.”
“Lady, no offense, but you don’t look so good.” Scott said.
Summer gave him an irritated look. “Thanks.” She drawled, with enough sarcastic bite to the word that Flynn felt some of his tension ease.
“Ay’m glad ye’re here.” He told her and really, he was. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how off it would have felt if only him and Scott had been here. She smiled at him warmly in response.
“EXCUSE ME!” A voice called, strong and clear, making the whole room turn. A Fae woman stood upon a platform on the far side of the room, looking at them all with cool woodland eyes. Once she deemed she had their attention, she continued. “My name is Dr K; I am the head of Project Ranger. While it is a pleasure to see so many of you wishing to defend this city, there are already two Rangers, so I am only looking for three new Rangers at this time.”
The doctor made a quick motion with her hand and quite suddenly, she wasn’t the only one on the stage. Flynn heard a few quick intakes of breath as the Dea al Mon twins appeared on either side of her. “This,” the doctor said, slight smile now gracing her features, “is Gem and Gemma, the Gold and Silver Rangers respectively. As you can see, both are Dea al Mon. If anyone here cannot work with Dea al Mon, please leave now.”
There was some anxious shifting of feet but no one moved to leave. Flynn glanced to his left to find Summer had gone white and Scott was completely tense.
“Good. Now, the Ranger technology requires very specific physical requirements. I can tell you now that not all of you will will meet those requirements. Those who do will be asked to stay for an in-depth interview. I do not know how soon we will be able to determine the chosen candidates, but I will try to keep you all informed. If at any point during this process, you feel you can no longer give this team your full and complete dedication, please contact us and retract your application immediately. This team can afford no distractions.” She gave them all an obviously false smile and beckoned them with her hand. “Please follow me for testing.” She said, and headed into another room,
As the crowd started moving around them, Flynn turned to the two people who were almost friends. “Good luck.” He said, more than said because the world was bending around the two in response. He couldn’t stop his soft smile as the luck spell took hold. “Let’s go then.” He said with a smile.
Flynn ached. It wasn’t even that good ache that signified a long day of good, hard work. No, this was the ache that said he’d pushed a little too far and would be paying for it in the morning. All the same, he was glad to be out of that room. And away from the other candidates; he expected hostility, he hadn’t expected it to be quite so obvious. “It’s a death trap.” He muttered to Summer, whose arm was wrapped around his. He wasn’t sure if he was leaning on her or the other way around, but it made sure neither of them ended up on the floor.
Summer huffed an agreement. Scott, who was walking an exact two steps behind them, looked like he’d barely gone for a hard run. “Fuckin’ Predators.” He said under his breath. Summer giggled.
“This way.” She said, tugging him away from the center of the room where couches and chairs had been put out for candidates when they finished testing. He looked at the comfortable chairs longingly but allowed himself to be dragged to the corner of the room; he wasn’t stupid enough to distrust an empath’s instincts. If she wanted him over here, there was a reason. Flynn sank quite gladly to the floor and leaned back against the wall, letting Summer rest her head against his shoulder. Scott remained standing, watching the rest of the room carefully.
When Flynn also looked, he was slightly relieved to notice that he wasn’t the only one that looked ready to fall over. He even thought he saw a few Predators all but passed out on the couches. He wasn’t sure how long he sat and watched a steady stream of people leave the testing room- some confident, others limping and pale-, it had to only be a few minutes, but eventually he had to move. “Summer let me up. Aye need a drink.” He said.
Instead of lifting her head, Summer clamped a hand around his upper arm. Scott straightened from his slouch. “I’ll get it.” The Vampire said. There was something a little… queer about his voice. Flynn didn’t notice, frowning at the both of them.
“The table’s righ’ over there.” He said, motioning to the table that had refreshments laid out. It was only a few feet from where he was sitting; it was also surrounded by other candidates. “Aye can walk tha’ far.”
Scott turned on his heel to look at him. Scott’s red eyes were glazed and almost sleepy; the sign of a Predator sliding into a cold rage. “I’ll get it.” Scott said again, except now his voice was more of a croon.
Flynn shivered and nodded. “Alright.” He agreed, not willing to provoke someone sitting that close to the edge of a rage. Scott gave him a lazy, terrifying smile and turned to get them drinks. Flynn gulped thickly and looked at the woman sitting calmly next to him. Of course Summer had realized Scott’s temperament. Thanks for the warning. He thought. “Did Aye do something wrong?” he asked.
“Not you.” She said and there was something in her voice that made him take a much closer look at her. She was angry too. Red hot, because Passive races couldn’t sink into a cold rage, but just as terrifying.
He thought for a moment then asked, “Because the others were tryin’ to sabotage my scores?” he asked.
Summer’s eyes snapped over to him, losing the sharp bite of her temper in favor of her surprise. “You knew?”
“Ay’m Human, not blind. They weren’ exactly subtle.”
“You’re not angry?”
He gave her a look that was part annoyed and part befuddled. “Ye didn’ see it coming?” he asked. Someone might as well have slapped her for the shock that spread quickly across her face. “Summer, Ay’m Human. Do ye understand what it means for me to even be attemptin’ this?” he asked her. Though she nodded, Flynn could see she didn’t. Not yet.
“They’re trying to sabotage you because of your race?” she asked and she sounded quite like someone had shattered something fundamental to her world. “Racism is not that bad.” She said.
“It’s not.” He agreed. “But, Summer, it’s the end of the world and this is Project Ranger. It’s not about prejudice. It’s about ‘em, making sure Aye don’ get picked so someone they see as stronger can take my place. They don’ think Aye can protect ‘em.”
“That’s not right.” She insisted.
He smiled at her sadly. “Welcome to life. It rarely ever is.”
A hand fell on his shoulder, making him start. For a single moment, Summer’s anger snapped through the room. Then Flynn raised his eyes to meet Scott’s cool eyes and Summer’s walls slammed back into place, taking the rage with them. The air might as well have been sucked out of the room in seconds for the effect it had. Flynn watched as others gasped and stumbled, eyes blown wide. Yet he felt stable, as if the rage had washed right by him each time, leaving him untouched. Scott’s hand shook where it rested on his shoulder, but none of it showed in his expression. “Thank ye.” Flynn said, as if nothing had happened, and calmly took the drink. Scott nodded and returned to his position slouching against the wall.
It was another half an hour before the last candidate walked through the doors. Flynn could honestly say that he was feeling much better at that point, not that he wanted to do it again cause he still hurt. The doors to the training room closed then and remained closed for several moments before opening, allowing the young doctor and the two Dea al Mon to exit. Dr K was carrying a stack of small folders.
“Once again, thank you all for coming. If I call your name, then I’m afraid you did not make the requirements to handle the Ranger equipment. If I do not call your name, then please remain for the interview.” Dr K said, then turned her attention to the files in her hands. Flynn tensed, waiting for her to read his name from the top of the folders she was handing to Gem. But then she handed another folder to Gem and Flynn realized suddenly that it was the last one, and yet no mention of Flynn McAllistair.
As he stared at the three in disbelief, Gem’s eyes drifted from the middle of the room to their little corner and looked right at him. The Dea al Mon smiled at him and nodded, a little movement that would mean nothing to anyone else. There was nothing compared to the euphoria that washed through him then. He had made the cut.
As Gem turned his attention back to the majority, tucking the files he’d been given under his arms, Dr K offered another false smile. “Thank you for coming, but your presence is no longer needed here. Please leave.”
Summer made a sound in her throat next to him. “That woman has some serious damage.” She muttered under her breath. He started to smile, stopped, then realized. “You made it.” He said.
The Witch stilled, then turned to look at him with eyes blown wide. “So did you.” She breathed, then looked up at Scott, who was making no move to join the slow crowd of people leaving. “We made it.” She said, the start of a wide smile growing on her face. Scott looked at her with a matching smile; his temper was definitely warmer now, though he remained closer to that edge then Flynn would like. “So we did.”
“If the rest of you will please remain here for a few minutes, we will begin the interviews shortly.” Dr K said, then turned to leave.
“Wait a minute.” Someone said, Flynn thought it might have been a Fae. “He made it?” The tone of voice made it impossible to mistake who the man was talking about. Flynn stood up immediately so he could move quicker, despite the fact that the movement could be conceived as a challenge; Summer followed only a heartbeat behind. Scott snarled a warning; the temperature of the room plummeted as Scott slipped right over the edge into a cold rage.
Dr K turned back to them, examining the room with cool eyes. Finally, she looked right at him. “Name?” she asked.
“McAllistair.” He told her. She nodded at Gem, who turned and entered the testing room. When he emerged, there was only one file in his hands, which he handed to the doctor. She glanced through it with a speed that told Flynn the file was just a formality, she knew exactly who he was and what his scores were.
“He passed.” She said to the room. “Barely, but he passed.” She looked up with eyes that had gone a few degrees colder. “Then again, the barely wasn’t really his fault now was it?” she asked in a tone designed to scathe the skin off bone.
“He doesn’t deserve to be here.”
What was left of Flynn’s drink froze over.
Scott’s growl echoed through the room. He took a step forward but Summer’s sharp call of his name froze him in place. Flynn tensed with no little fear; the Vampire was all coiled muscle and a brutal rage that would kill half the room before it died and the only thing that was holding him back was the will of one little Witch who wasn’t exactly happy.
If there’s a fight, he thought as strongly as he could, then Scott has to win. There was a brief hesitation, then the world shifted to his will. He couldn’t change everything, if the Dea al Mon stepped onto the killing field across from Scott, the Vampire was a dead man; but against the others, Scott’s military training would make up for what the spell couldn’t change.
“Who are you to decide that?” the doctor demanded and now she wasn’t so warm. “Leave, now.” She ordered when she received no answer. “While you still can.”
The man growled and turned away, Scott’s glazed eyes tracking him the whole way. Flynn was just starting to relax when the air grew heavy, the man turned and flung out one hand, and the magic blasted towards them. There was one brief second where, for the first time, it occurred to Flynn that he never bothered to change his own luck. Why didn’t he do that? He could.
Then Summer’s hands curled in his collar, his arm was around her waist, and he wasn’t sure which one of them moved first but they both ended up diving out of the way. Scott was half-way across the room before they even hit the floor. When Flynn looked up, he found Scott only a few feet from the Fae man.
Only Gemma had gotten there first.
The knife in her hand wasn’t the one from her sleeve, couldn’t be. The one she was holding was a wicked curved thing, the blade serrated and brutal. Flynn glanced at the Fae man crumbled on the floor and wished he hadn’t. Dea al Mon always went for the throat, so the slash that had opened the man’s neck clean to the spine wasn’t a surprise. There was no reason, however, for the cut that had opened the man’s gut and splashed his innards across the floor.
Scott stared at Gemma and whatever Scott saw in her face was enough to startle him straight out of his rage. He stepped back, looking uneasy, and Gemma turned to regard the rest of the room. “Anyone else?” she asked. Flynn would freely admit that his spine turned to gel at the terrible, calm fury in her voice.
The doctor sighed and shook her head, completely unfazed. “I had promised the Colonel no one here would die, Gemma.” She said, but there was no accusation in her tone. Gemma turned to look at the doctor, expression still queer. Then a warm flash of humor lit up the room as the deadliest predator in the world willing stepped back from a killing field. “You’re right.” Gemma said. “I should have let the Truman boy do it.” Then she nodded her head towards Scott.
Flynn rocked back in surprise, staring at his friend. Truman? As in Mason Truman, the man who was the current military leader of Corinth? Scott glanced back at them and grimaced but didn’t disagree with Gemma.
The Dea al Mon casually wiped the blood from her knife on her pants leg before lifting the back of her jacket and placing the knife back into its holster. When the jacket fell back into place, the knife might as well not even be there. Gemma returned to her place at K’s side.
“I think,” the doctor said slowly, staring at the corpse on the ground that no one else wanted to look at. “That considering recent events, we should postpone the interviews for another day.” She nodded. “Yes, I think that’s best. Please report here this time tomorrow. Thank you.” That said, she turned and entered the testing room. Gem followed her in; Gemma continued to watch them all, a smile that was too wide gracing her features.
For a long moment, no one moved, watching Gemma as intently as she watched them. Then Scott moved, turning to look at him and Summer with tired eyes. “I need a drink.” He said adamantly.
Doctor K stared at the files that were currently hiding her desk from view. One file for every person willing to become a Ranger. There were so many to choose from; she would have to explain every decision to Corinth’s military leader. It was supposed to be General Carl Lattern, a Lord of the Woods whom she had worked with rather well once she’d escaped the Soup facility. However, General Lattern had died in the Battle and his 2IC, Colonel Mason Truman, had taken command; Truman was a fine military leader but on a purely personal basis, he rubbed her wrong. Thankfully, his son Marcus had taken on the duties of 2IC and knew how to work with her way of thinking.
She approached her desk slowly, considering the multiple piles. She’d hoped to be able to shorten the number of files with the interviews; however, that fool of a Fae had all but put the knife in Gemma’s hands. She shivered slightly in remembrance.
The Fae were a Predator race; she was as capable of that cold rage as the twins. She had felt the twins in the grasp of the cold rage before. She knew how to deal with it. But it had been the oddest feeling to stand between them, firm in the knowledge that she could leash their temper if she needed to, and then…
“He doesn’t belong here.”
And then, in a heartbeat, they’d been riding the killing edge. She had stood between them, the cold burn making her hands ache, and known with a startling quality that this time, they wouldn’t yield to her will. Even if the man had walked away, K knew he would have been dead before the day was out.
But the man had attacked and Gemma had acted. Gemma had acted. The twins had decided without words that if they needed to act, Gemma would do it. Gemma, who was faster but also crueler. Gemma, who had slit open the man’s stomach, even though she hadn’t needed to. Gemma, who shined brightest in battle, who cared if she was covered in blood and body parts about as little as a Witch did covered in dirt.
She had never seen them go cold that fast before. She hadn’t even known it was possible.
K shook the memory away. She had known the two were going to be tense with that many unknowns in the room with her. Any hostile action around her, who they called Pack, was going to end in death. While such a reaction was frowned upon, it wasn’t unexpected.
She turned her attention back to the files. The twins had organized the files for her- she had needed them occupied while she contacted the Colonel. No doubt they’d gone ahead and put their favorites on top. The twins had been silent judges throughout the whole process, taking note of the things she couldn’t pay attention to. They had a way of disappearing into a crowd; it wasn’t a Dea al Mon trait, merely something from their training at Soup, but somehow they could make the eye slip right over them without the brain registering they were there. They had hid among the candidates, unnoticed unless they wished to be, and listened.
There were probably notes, in the twins’ precise, identical handwriting, throughout the files. The twins could be very opinionated.
There was a single file, not in any pile, sitting strategically in the middle of her desk. She picked it up with a fair bit of trepidation; the picture stapled to the top page punched the air out of her. McAllistair. Her hands shook as she forced her gaze away from the photo. There were sticky notes; violently pink sticky notes pasted everywhere. One said ‘Good man’, another was ‘luck-granter’. Then, at the bottom: ‘has a Pack, vampire and witch.’
Humans weren’t a Pack race, neither were Vampires or Witches. None of them were born with the fierce protectiveness of the Pack bloodlines. However, if a Dea al Mon looked at the three and saw Pack, then they could be called nothing else. She could guess the Vampire was the younger Truman son; and, indeed, when she looked at the pile of Demon Kind applications, Scott Truman was the first file she found. The Witch pile, which when she looked was combined with Fae, was topped by a young blonde named Summer Landsdown. She placed the three files side by side and stared at them. Pack.
Then she acknowledged what she’d been trying to avoid.
The twins had gone cold long before the Fae man had lashed out. They had not been responding to perceived threat to her. They had been responding to a very real threat to McAllistair. And Gemma had acted.
“Gem! Gemma!” She called and picked up McAllistair’s file as the two entered. She showed them McAllistair’s photo and wasn’t sure what to think of the way the two immediately tensed. “Is he Pack?” she demanded.
The twins glanced at each other. “Will it affect your decision?” Gemma asked, and of course the two were thinking about that instead of the very real possibility a Human man resonated with them.
“Of course not.” She said hotly. “You know me better than that.”
And because they did, they told her the truth. “Yes.”
It took a great deal of effort not to react as she wanted. Instead she restrained herself to a single nod and turned back to the files on her desk, replacing McAllistair’s with the other two. “Alright, thank you. You may go.”
A single beat of silence, then the soft scruff of shoes against tile she could only hear because they wanted her to.
K let herself slump when she confirmed they were gone. Packs were formed over years; one could be friends with someone from a Pack race for ages before becoming Pack. It was a slow strengthening of bonds that no one could explain. Except, sometimes a Pack race met someone who they resonated with, whose personality fit so well with theirs that they were Pack immediately. They were more than Pack, they were equals.
She didn’t resonate with either of the twins. She was Pack because Soup had put them together and somehow, she had become their friend. She had worked with them for years and then one day, she had woken up and she had been Pack. But she didn’t resonate with them.
McAllistair did.
She closed her eyes and thought long and hard about the character of a man that would allow him to resonate with not one, but two Dea al Mon. That would allow a Human to run with Dea al Mon as equals.
Chapter 3
Title: Seven Steps from Humanity
Summary: AU VENJIX’s army wasn’t just machines. We could have handled machines. No. Someone had given VENJIX magic.
Rating: M
Pairings: Dillon/Ziggy, Scott/Summer, Gem/Flynn/Gemma, K/Tenaya
Disclaimer: I do not own the Power Rangers or anything related to the franchise.
Status: In Progress
Notes: Please see my journal here for background information, common terms, warnings, and further disclaimers. Information on races now added.
Part One: The Beginning Chapter 1 |
7 Steps from Humanity
Part One: The Beginning
Chapter 2
Flynn should have been surprised. He should have been shocked, surprised, even confused. But he wasn’t. When he arrived at the building that was slowly becoming his new home a week after he arrived in Corinth, he found Scott sitting on the couch in his father’s workshop. He blinked at the man’s sassy grin but couldn’t manage to work up the surprise that should be there. Scott being here felt… right, normal.
“Huh.”
Scott’s grin slid away at the bland respond. “That’s the best I’m going to get isn’t it?” he asked, sounding disappointed.
Flynn nodded. “Aye.” He looked around carefully. “An’ where’s my da’?”
“He agreed to look at my truck while I waited for you.” Scott said, then leaned forward like he was sharing a secret. “He doesn’t trust me.” Flynn snorted, unsurprised. His father didn’t trust anyone when it came to his son.
“Come on. Inside with you.” He ordered, leading Scott into the living part of the building. “Wha’ are ye doing here?” he demanded as he walked into the kitchen. “Wan’ a beer?” he asked. Scott nodded and plopped himself down on one of the seat’s at the island, taking a child-like amusement in spinning it around. Flynn resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “If ye get sick, ye’re cleanin’ it up.” He warned.
Scott’s feet landed hard on the foot railing, pulling him to an abrupt stop. Scott didn’t even seem slightly off-balance by the spinning, if his cheeky grin was anything to go by. Damn Predator races. “Wha’ are ye doing here?” he asked again, handing the Vampire one of the beers he’d pulled out of the frig.
“Wanted to check on you.” Scott answered, shrugging on shoulder. “Make sure you got settled in alright.” The Vampire cast a speculative look around the open house. Flynn shifted, aware that the living room was only half-way painted, that the hallway floor was still bare, and that the whole of the house was still in need of furnishing. It was to be expected, considering the government had only managed to find him and his father housing two days ago; the only reason they had managed to get housing that fast was because they both had mechanical training the city needed to get itself on its feet.
Scott looked back at him, expression blank. “It looks nice.” He said.
“Don’t mock me.” He snarled, magic gathering with his anger. So easy to give it direction, to say words in anger that could ruin Scott’s whole day- maybe a week, maybe his life if Flynn wasn’t careful-, to follow the channels Flynn had carved as a child and hadn’t been able to seal. Too easy to ill-wish, so hard to give out the kindness of luck.
“I’m not.” Scott said, spreading both hands wide. His voice was soft, filled with a quiet yearning that made Flynn pause, that made the anger die. No, not mocking. Just a quiet, half-acknowledged heart wish for a house that, even if unfinished, was at least home. Flynn sighed and grounded the power, let the anger go.
“Have ye word of Miss Summer?” Flynn asked carefully.
Scott’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah, actually.” He said. “She uh… she fell into shock not long after we arrived.” Scott informed, then, when he saw Flynn’s wide eyes, hurried to explain. “She’s alright now.”
“That’s good.” Flynn managed to get out, knowing he sounded strangled. He turned his attention to the beer in his hand and drained most of it in one gulp. “How are ye holdin’ up?” he asked.
Scott shrugged, playing his fingers through the precipitation on the bottle neck. “I’m alright. I’ve got a tense home situation. My father doesn’t… approve of my… needs.”
“Ye mean blood?” Flynn asked. When Scott nodded, he rolled his eyes. “That’s stupid.”
“He’s old-fashioned.” Scott said, voice bitter. “My brother’s great but he’s Human. He doesn’t get it.” Scott paused then snorted. “Great. Now I sound like I’m twelve.”
Flynn couldn’t stop the sharp laugh that burst from him at that; Scott frowned at him briefly then smiled slightly and shook his head. “Oh hey. I almost forgot.” Scott said, sitting up a little to pull a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Flynn watched in curiosity as Scott carefully unfolded it and smoothed it out before passing it to him. He took it carefully, looking over the… application? Was this an application? Yes, that’s what it was. For… Flynn squinted at the top of the page before his eyes widened. “Project Ranger?” he asked, looking up at Scott in shock.
The Vampire smiled at him somewhat cryptically and stood up. “Think about it.” Scott said, and saluted him with his beer. “Thanks.” He called, before walking out. Flynn didn’t follow. He stood in his kitchen and stared at the paper on his counter and finally let himself consider Project Ranger.
This was such a bad idea.
Flynn stood awkwardly among the crowd of people waiting for consideration for Project Ranger. He was very aware that of the multiple people here, he was the only one from a Passive race, if one ignored the random Witch here or there. Flynn was, because they had full battle magics and were well respected among even the toughest of the Predator races. Already he was getting a few hostile looks from those around him, though most seemed set on ignoring him.
This was all Scott’s fault. He hadn’t been planning on coming, really. He’d almost managed to push the thought of Project Ranger out of his mind. Then Scott had waltzed in and all but shoved the application form at him. He knew this was something for the Predator races, that a Human didn’t belong on the team, that merely coming today would give his dad a heart attack. But Scott had said to think about it and once he had, he couldn’t stop.
So he’d come. He’d come because he had a Hero Complex that was going to get him killed and no one who could distract him. He should have expected the quiet hostility.
Quite suddenly, an arm was slung over his shoulder, drawing his gaze to the petite woman next to him. He went very, very still because, holy shit, a Dea al Mon was hanging from his shoulders. A small, Asian Dea al Mon, but still from the best Predator race on the planet.
Dea al Mon were called the Children of the Wood because they were the first of the woodland kin, the first to display the woodland eyes, and because they were the perfect hunters. They were half-wild and always vicious in battle and if they weren’t born knowing what to do with a knife, it didn’t take them long to learn. They didn’t have metaphysical abilities, but they were the fastest and the strongest race, the only race that was resistant to magic, as well as one of the few that could smell magic. Even an fool knew to fear the Dea al Mon.
Flynn glanced at the hand lying innocently across his shoulders, so close to his throat, and was almost relieved to see the rumors that Dea al Mon had claws much like a Harpy were wrong. Almost, because he could see the bulge in her long sleeve where a knife was hidden.
“Hey-a!” she said brightly. “I’m Gemma and that’s-”
“Gem, her brother.”
Flynn bit his tongue to hold in his curse, turning his head to look at the other Dea al Mon that had snuck up on him. He was so going to make Scott’s life a living hell. “Hi.” He managed weakly. “I’m Flynn.”
Both grinned at him with smiles that were oddly comforting. “What-cha doing-”
“-here Flynn?”
He eyed the two carefully, wondering if the way of talking was just to throw people off or not. He wouldn’t put it past a Predator race to be a little unhinged. “I … uh… a friend convinced me to come.”
“Really?” Gemma asked, gazing up at him with eyes that saw too much of him. “That’s all?”
“Mostly.” He said carefully, aware of the brother shifting closer to him- and out of his line of sight. “I have a Hero Complex.”
“Really?” The brother asked from somewhere behind him, in a tone that was identical to the girl’s. “That’s nice.”
“Not so much. It’s really quite a pain.”
There was a flash of warm humor from both of them that made him relax. “Can I help you?” he asked unsurely.
Gemma’s smile was almost sweet. “You already have.” She told him. Her arm disappeared from his shoulders, causing him to shiver from the lack of warmth, and before he could say something, she disappeared into the crowd. When he looked behind him, the brother was gone as well. He blinked. How did two Dea al Mon disappear in a crowd of people that would prefer to be five feet from them at all times?
“Flynn!”
He turned around, already tired of being startled and confused and found Scott pushing his way through the crowd towards him; Flynn wondered if Scott’s mouth hurt from how big his smile was. “You came!” Scott said, sounding delighted. Once the man was close enough, Scott reached out and pulled him into a tight, short hug. “I almost didn’t think you would.”
“I shouldn’ be here.”
“Nonsense.” Scott said, shaking his head. The Vampire held him by his shoulders and looked at him intently. “Flynn, I honestly believe we wouldn’t have made it here without you.”
Flynn was already shaking his head before Scott had even finished. “Aye had nothin’ to do with tha’.”
Scott’s hands dropped from his shoulders as the other man frowned at him. “Yeah.” He said, obviously coming to a decision with himself. “We’re gonna have to work on that.” Flynn wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, except…
“Ay’m never gettin’ rid of ye, am Aye?”
Scott’s grin was all the answer he needed. Flynn sighed heavily.
“I should be surprised, right?” a soft, feminine voice asked. Flynn focused his eyes over Scott’s shoulder and was almost surprised to see Summer standing there. Almost, but not really. Summer was here. Of course Summer was here. Then Scott turned around, allowing Flynn a better look at the young woman and Flynn’s growing smile faltered. Summer had cleaned up nicely from the last time he had seen her, but her hair hung in limp curls around her face that dulled the color to a pale wheat and put the shadows around her eyes into sharp contrast.
“Lady Summer?” Scott asked, sounding as concerned as he felt.
“Scott.” She greeted, nodding at him with a quiet dignity that belied how truly exhausted she looked. “Flynn. I’m glad to see you two are alright.”
“Lady, no offense, but you don’t look so good.” Scott said.
Summer gave him an irritated look. “Thanks.” She drawled, with enough sarcastic bite to the word that Flynn felt some of his tension ease.
“Ay’m glad ye’re here.” He told her and really, he was. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how off it would have felt if only him and Scott had been here. She smiled at him warmly in response.
“EXCUSE ME!” A voice called, strong and clear, making the whole room turn. A Fae woman stood upon a platform on the far side of the room, looking at them all with cool woodland eyes. Once she deemed she had their attention, she continued. “My name is Dr K; I am the head of Project Ranger. While it is a pleasure to see so many of you wishing to defend this city, there are already two Rangers, so I am only looking for three new Rangers at this time.”
The doctor made a quick motion with her hand and quite suddenly, she wasn’t the only one on the stage. Flynn heard a few quick intakes of breath as the Dea al Mon twins appeared on either side of her. “This,” the doctor said, slight smile now gracing her features, “is Gem and Gemma, the Gold and Silver Rangers respectively. As you can see, both are Dea al Mon. If anyone here cannot work with Dea al Mon, please leave now.”
There was some anxious shifting of feet but no one moved to leave. Flynn glanced to his left to find Summer had gone white and Scott was completely tense.
“Good. Now, the Ranger technology requires very specific physical requirements. I can tell you now that not all of you will will meet those requirements. Those who do will be asked to stay for an in-depth interview. I do not know how soon we will be able to determine the chosen candidates, but I will try to keep you all informed. If at any point during this process, you feel you can no longer give this team your full and complete dedication, please contact us and retract your application immediately. This team can afford no distractions.” She gave them all an obviously false smile and beckoned them with her hand. “Please follow me for testing.” She said, and headed into another room,
As the crowd started moving around them, Flynn turned to the two people who were almost friends. “Good luck.” He said, more than said because the world was bending around the two in response. He couldn’t stop his soft smile as the luck spell took hold. “Let’s go then.” He said with a smile.
Flynn ached. It wasn’t even that good ache that signified a long day of good, hard work. No, this was the ache that said he’d pushed a little too far and would be paying for it in the morning. All the same, he was glad to be out of that room. And away from the other candidates; he expected hostility, he hadn’t expected it to be quite so obvious. “It’s a death trap.” He muttered to Summer, whose arm was wrapped around his. He wasn’t sure if he was leaning on her or the other way around, but it made sure neither of them ended up on the floor.
Summer huffed an agreement. Scott, who was walking an exact two steps behind them, looked like he’d barely gone for a hard run. “Fuckin’ Predators.” He said under his breath. Summer giggled.
“This way.” She said, tugging him away from the center of the room where couches and chairs had been put out for candidates when they finished testing. He looked at the comfortable chairs longingly but allowed himself to be dragged to the corner of the room; he wasn’t stupid enough to distrust an empath’s instincts. If she wanted him over here, there was a reason. Flynn sank quite gladly to the floor and leaned back against the wall, letting Summer rest her head against his shoulder. Scott remained standing, watching the rest of the room carefully.
When Flynn also looked, he was slightly relieved to notice that he wasn’t the only one that looked ready to fall over. He even thought he saw a few Predators all but passed out on the couches. He wasn’t sure how long he sat and watched a steady stream of people leave the testing room- some confident, others limping and pale-, it had to only be a few minutes, but eventually he had to move. “Summer let me up. Aye need a drink.” He said.
Instead of lifting her head, Summer clamped a hand around his upper arm. Scott straightened from his slouch. “I’ll get it.” The Vampire said. There was something a little… queer about his voice. Flynn didn’t notice, frowning at the both of them.
“The table’s righ’ over there.” He said, motioning to the table that had refreshments laid out. It was only a few feet from where he was sitting; it was also surrounded by other candidates. “Aye can walk tha’ far.”
Scott turned on his heel to look at him. Scott’s red eyes were glazed and almost sleepy; the sign of a Predator sliding into a cold rage. “I’ll get it.” Scott said again, except now his voice was more of a croon.
Flynn shivered and nodded. “Alright.” He agreed, not willing to provoke someone sitting that close to the edge of a rage. Scott gave him a lazy, terrifying smile and turned to get them drinks. Flynn gulped thickly and looked at the woman sitting calmly next to him. Of course Summer had realized Scott’s temperament. Thanks for the warning. He thought. “Did Aye do something wrong?” he asked.
“Not you.” She said and there was something in her voice that made him take a much closer look at her. She was angry too. Red hot, because Passive races couldn’t sink into a cold rage, but just as terrifying.
He thought for a moment then asked, “Because the others were tryin’ to sabotage my scores?” he asked.
Summer’s eyes snapped over to him, losing the sharp bite of her temper in favor of her surprise. “You knew?”
“Ay’m Human, not blind. They weren’ exactly subtle.”
“You’re not angry?”
He gave her a look that was part annoyed and part befuddled. “Ye didn’ see it coming?” he asked. Someone might as well have slapped her for the shock that spread quickly across her face. “Summer, Ay’m Human. Do ye understand what it means for me to even be attemptin’ this?” he asked her. Though she nodded, Flynn could see she didn’t. Not yet.
“They’re trying to sabotage you because of your race?” she asked and she sounded quite like someone had shattered something fundamental to her world. “Racism is not that bad.” She said.
“It’s not.” He agreed. “But, Summer, it’s the end of the world and this is Project Ranger. It’s not about prejudice. It’s about ‘em, making sure Aye don’ get picked so someone they see as stronger can take my place. They don’ think Aye can protect ‘em.”
“That’s not right.” She insisted.
He smiled at her sadly. “Welcome to life. It rarely ever is.”
A hand fell on his shoulder, making him start. For a single moment, Summer’s anger snapped through the room. Then Flynn raised his eyes to meet Scott’s cool eyes and Summer’s walls slammed back into place, taking the rage with them. The air might as well have been sucked out of the room in seconds for the effect it had. Flynn watched as others gasped and stumbled, eyes blown wide. Yet he felt stable, as if the rage had washed right by him each time, leaving him untouched. Scott’s hand shook where it rested on his shoulder, but none of it showed in his expression. “Thank ye.” Flynn said, as if nothing had happened, and calmly took the drink. Scott nodded and returned to his position slouching against the wall.
It was another half an hour before the last candidate walked through the doors. Flynn could honestly say that he was feeling much better at that point, not that he wanted to do it again cause he still hurt. The doors to the training room closed then and remained closed for several moments before opening, allowing the young doctor and the two Dea al Mon to exit. Dr K was carrying a stack of small folders.
“Once again, thank you all for coming. If I call your name, then I’m afraid you did not make the requirements to handle the Ranger equipment. If I do not call your name, then please remain for the interview.” Dr K said, then turned her attention to the files in her hands. Flynn tensed, waiting for her to read his name from the top of the folders she was handing to Gem. But then she handed another folder to Gem and Flynn realized suddenly that it was the last one, and yet no mention of Flynn McAllistair.
As he stared at the three in disbelief, Gem’s eyes drifted from the middle of the room to their little corner and looked right at him. The Dea al Mon smiled at him and nodded, a little movement that would mean nothing to anyone else. There was nothing compared to the euphoria that washed through him then. He had made the cut.
As Gem turned his attention back to the majority, tucking the files he’d been given under his arms, Dr K offered another false smile. “Thank you for coming, but your presence is no longer needed here. Please leave.”
Summer made a sound in her throat next to him. “That woman has some serious damage.” She muttered under her breath. He started to smile, stopped, then realized. “You made it.” He said.
The Witch stilled, then turned to look at him with eyes blown wide. “So did you.” She breathed, then looked up at Scott, who was making no move to join the slow crowd of people leaving. “We made it.” She said, the start of a wide smile growing on her face. Scott looked at her with a matching smile; his temper was definitely warmer now, though he remained closer to that edge then Flynn would like. “So we did.”
“If the rest of you will please remain here for a few minutes, we will begin the interviews shortly.” Dr K said, then turned to leave.
“Wait a minute.” Someone said, Flynn thought it might have been a Fae. “He made it?” The tone of voice made it impossible to mistake who the man was talking about. Flynn stood up immediately so he could move quicker, despite the fact that the movement could be conceived as a challenge; Summer followed only a heartbeat behind. Scott snarled a warning; the temperature of the room plummeted as Scott slipped right over the edge into a cold rage.
Dr K turned back to them, examining the room with cool eyes. Finally, she looked right at him. “Name?” she asked.
“McAllistair.” He told her. She nodded at Gem, who turned and entered the testing room. When he emerged, there was only one file in his hands, which he handed to the doctor. She glanced through it with a speed that told Flynn the file was just a formality, she knew exactly who he was and what his scores were.
“He passed.” She said to the room. “Barely, but he passed.” She looked up with eyes that had gone a few degrees colder. “Then again, the barely wasn’t really his fault now was it?” she asked in a tone designed to scathe the skin off bone.
“He doesn’t deserve to be here.”
What was left of Flynn’s drink froze over.
Scott’s growl echoed through the room. He took a step forward but Summer’s sharp call of his name froze him in place. Flynn tensed with no little fear; the Vampire was all coiled muscle and a brutal rage that would kill half the room before it died and the only thing that was holding him back was the will of one little Witch who wasn’t exactly happy.
If there’s a fight, he thought as strongly as he could, then Scott has to win. There was a brief hesitation, then the world shifted to his will. He couldn’t change everything, if the Dea al Mon stepped onto the killing field across from Scott, the Vampire was a dead man; but against the others, Scott’s military training would make up for what the spell couldn’t change.
“Who are you to decide that?” the doctor demanded and now she wasn’t so warm. “Leave, now.” She ordered when she received no answer. “While you still can.”
The man growled and turned away, Scott’s glazed eyes tracking him the whole way. Flynn was just starting to relax when the air grew heavy, the man turned and flung out one hand, and the magic blasted towards them. There was one brief second where, for the first time, it occurred to Flynn that he never bothered to change his own luck. Why didn’t he do that? He could.
Then Summer’s hands curled in his collar, his arm was around her waist, and he wasn’t sure which one of them moved first but they both ended up diving out of the way. Scott was half-way across the room before they even hit the floor. When Flynn looked up, he found Scott only a few feet from the Fae man.
Only Gemma had gotten there first.
The knife in her hand wasn’t the one from her sleeve, couldn’t be. The one she was holding was a wicked curved thing, the blade serrated and brutal. Flynn glanced at the Fae man crumbled on the floor and wished he hadn’t. Dea al Mon always went for the throat, so the slash that had opened the man’s neck clean to the spine wasn’t a surprise. There was no reason, however, for the cut that had opened the man’s gut and splashed his innards across the floor.
Scott stared at Gemma and whatever Scott saw in her face was enough to startle him straight out of his rage. He stepped back, looking uneasy, and Gemma turned to regard the rest of the room. “Anyone else?” she asked. Flynn would freely admit that his spine turned to gel at the terrible, calm fury in her voice.
The doctor sighed and shook her head, completely unfazed. “I had promised the Colonel no one here would die, Gemma.” She said, but there was no accusation in her tone. Gemma turned to look at the doctor, expression still queer. Then a warm flash of humor lit up the room as the deadliest predator in the world willing stepped back from a killing field. “You’re right.” Gemma said. “I should have let the Truman boy do it.” Then she nodded her head towards Scott.
Flynn rocked back in surprise, staring at his friend. Truman? As in Mason Truman, the man who was the current military leader of Corinth? Scott glanced back at them and grimaced but didn’t disagree with Gemma.
The Dea al Mon casually wiped the blood from her knife on her pants leg before lifting the back of her jacket and placing the knife back into its holster. When the jacket fell back into place, the knife might as well not even be there. Gemma returned to her place at K’s side.
“I think,” the doctor said slowly, staring at the corpse on the ground that no one else wanted to look at. “That considering recent events, we should postpone the interviews for another day.” She nodded. “Yes, I think that’s best. Please report here this time tomorrow. Thank you.” That said, she turned and entered the testing room. Gem followed her in; Gemma continued to watch them all, a smile that was too wide gracing her features.
For a long moment, no one moved, watching Gemma as intently as she watched them. Then Scott moved, turning to look at him and Summer with tired eyes. “I need a drink.” He said adamantly.
Doctor K stared at the files that were currently hiding her desk from view. One file for every person willing to become a Ranger. There were so many to choose from; she would have to explain every decision to Corinth’s military leader. It was supposed to be General Carl Lattern, a Lord of the Woods whom she had worked with rather well once she’d escaped the Soup facility. However, General Lattern had died in the Battle and his 2IC, Colonel Mason Truman, had taken command; Truman was a fine military leader but on a purely personal basis, he rubbed her wrong. Thankfully, his son Marcus had taken on the duties of 2IC and knew how to work with her way of thinking.
She approached her desk slowly, considering the multiple piles. She’d hoped to be able to shorten the number of files with the interviews; however, that fool of a Fae had all but put the knife in Gemma’s hands. She shivered slightly in remembrance.
The Fae were a Predator race; she was as capable of that cold rage as the twins. She had felt the twins in the grasp of the cold rage before. She knew how to deal with it. But it had been the oddest feeling to stand between them, firm in the knowledge that she could leash their temper if she needed to, and then…
“He doesn’t belong here.”
And then, in a heartbeat, they’d been riding the killing edge. She had stood between them, the cold burn making her hands ache, and known with a startling quality that this time, they wouldn’t yield to her will. Even if the man had walked away, K knew he would have been dead before the day was out.
But the man had attacked and Gemma had acted. Gemma had acted. The twins had decided without words that if they needed to act, Gemma would do it. Gemma, who was faster but also crueler. Gemma, who had slit open the man’s stomach, even though she hadn’t needed to. Gemma, who shined brightest in battle, who cared if she was covered in blood and body parts about as little as a Witch did covered in dirt.
She had never seen them go cold that fast before. She hadn’t even known it was possible.
K shook the memory away. She had known the two were going to be tense with that many unknowns in the room with her. Any hostile action around her, who they called Pack, was going to end in death. While such a reaction was frowned upon, it wasn’t unexpected.
She turned her attention back to the files. The twins had organized the files for her- she had needed them occupied while she contacted the Colonel. No doubt they’d gone ahead and put their favorites on top. The twins had been silent judges throughout the whole process, taking note of the things she couldn’t pay attention to. They had a way of disappearing into a crowd; it wasn’t a Dea al Mon trait, merely something from their training at Soup, but somehow they could make the eye slip right over them without the brain registering they were there. They had hid among the candidates, unnoticed unless they wished to be, and listened.
There were probably notes, in the twins’ precise, identical handwriting, throughout the files. The twins could be very opinionated.
There was a single file, not in any pile, sitting strategically in the middle of her desk. She picked it up with a fair bit of trepidation; the picture stapled to the top page punched the air out of her. McAllistair. Her hands shook as she forced her gaze away from the photo. There were sticky notes; violently pink sticky notes pasted everywhere. One said ‘Good man’, another was ‘luck-granter’. Then, at the bottom: ‘has a Pack, vampire and witch.’
Humans weren’t a Pack race, neither were Vampires or Witches. None of them were born with the fierce protectiveness of the Pack bloodlines. However, if a Dea al Mon looked at the three and saw Pack, then they could be called nothing else. She could guess the Vampire was the younger Truman son; and, indeed, when she looked at the pile of Demon Kind applications, Scott Truman was the first file she found. The Witch pile, which when she looked was combined with Fae, was topped by a young blonde named Summer Landsdown. She placed the three files side by side and stared at them. Pack.
Then she acknowledged what she’d been trying to avoid.
The twins had gone cold long before the Fae man had lashed out. They had not been responding to perceived threat to her. They had been responding to a very real threat to McAllistair. And Gemma had acted.
“Gem! Gemma!” She called and picked up McAllistair’s file as the two entered. She showed them McAllistair’s photo and wasn’t sure what to think of the way the two immediately tensed. “Is he Pack?” she demanded.
The twins glanced at each other. “Will it affect your decision?” Gemma asked, and of course the two were thinking about that instead of the very real possibility a Human man resonated with them.
“Of course not.” She said hotly. “You know me better than that.”
And because they did, they told her the truth. “Yes.”
It took a great deal of effort not to react as she wanted. Instead she restrained herself to a single nod and turned back to the files on her desk, replacing McAllistair’s with the other two. “Alright, thank you. You may go.”
A single beat of silence, then the soft scruff of shoes against tile she could only hear because they wanted her to.
K let herself slump when she confirmed they were gone. Packs were formed over years; one could be friends with someone from a Pack race for ages before becoming Pack. It was a slow strengthening of bonds that no one could explain. Except, sometimes a Pack race met someone who they resonated with, whose personality fit so well with theirs that they were Pack immediately. They were more than Pack, they were equals.
She didn’t resonate with either of the twins. She was Pack because Soup had put them together and somehow, she had become their friend. She had worked with them for years and then one day, she had woken up and she had been Pack. But she didn’t resonate with them.
McAllistair did.
She closed her eyes and thought long and hard about the character of a man that would allow him to resonate with not one, but two Dea al Mon. That would allow a Human to run with Dea al Mon as equals.
Chapter 3