Broken Warrior (The Weavers Circle 1)

Shoving away from the SUV, Clay moved into the trees, using them as cover as he jogged around the barn to the open meadow. He cared a little less now if he was seen or heard. He wanted to capture their attention. Right now, Grey should be working on the tires of their SUVs. If they failed to kill all their attackers, at least they wouldn’t be able to follow. It would buy Dane and Baer some time to escape.

Clay closed his eyes as he leaned against a particularly old oak, relying on its dense foliage and wide trunk to keep him hidden. He reached inside himself, trying to coax the power nestled behind his breastbone to life. The fickle creature had stirred earlier with those little brushes of power from the trees, but it seemed content to remain curled up and waiting. Clay couldn’t guess what it was waiting for.

“Look, I get that we don’t like each other, but Baer belongs to us. We are not letting him die today,” Clay whispered to the power. “Let’s take care of these fucks right now, save Baer, and I swear we can go back to hating each other after that.”

If Clay was expecting some kind of great sense of agreement or even flush of energy pouring through his body, it didn’t happen. He did get a strange feeling of amusement, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was coming from the power within his chest or possibly the tree he was hiding behind. All the different power sources were starting to blur together and feel the same. There was probably a point that he was missing, but now wasn’t the time for great revelations.

Pushing off from the tree, Clay stepped into the golden sunlight of the open field. The weeds and grasses had grown to about thigh height. They were a mix of yellow and green from the overall lack of rain during the past couple of months. A breeze stirred, and the grasses undulated in slow waves as if Clay were standing in the middle of a lake.

He extended one hand toward the barn and stared at the earth. Just something small. Anything big and the barn would be crashing down on Baer’s head, making this the world’s shortest and worst rescue. For a moment, nothing happened. The power in his body stirred, as if it were a cat languorously stretching.

Clay was afraid to push too hard, but he needed to do something. Closing his eyes, he whispered, “Please. For Baer.”

The power within him uncoiled and flowed to his fingertips lips like someone had poured warm water down his arm. He gasped as it left his fingers and slipped straight into the earth.

Holy fuck!

He could feel it all so clearly. His soul was plugged directly into the earth. It was so big. Everything connected and alive. It was trying to swallow him up, but he couldn’t let it. His focus needed to remain on the task at hand. He had to save Baer. He had to create a distraction that would keep Grey from being overwhelmed.

Under his feet, the earth started to shake. His eyes popped open, and he could feel the shaking was centered on the barn. Old wood creaked and groaned. Birds darted from their hiding places within the structure and nearby trees, their calls filling the sky around him. Along with the bird cries were shouts from human-like mouths. He couldn’t make out the words, but it was clear that he’d gotten their attention.

A small smirk teased at the corners of Clay’s mouth as he watched pestilents pour from the front and back of the barn. A quick count revealed six, but he couldn’t be sure that it was all of them. Someone could have been left behind to guard Baer, but it had at least meant the odds had improved for Grey’s rescue attempt.

“Hello! I believe you’re looking for me,” Clay shouted from where he was still standing. “I think you have something that belongs to me.”

Clay nearly laughed at the way the pestilents whipped around at the sound of his voice. The shaking of the earth stopped, but they didn’t charge on him in a mindless herd quite like he expected. Sadly, these weren’t stupid creatures just out for blood and death.

One of them stepped slowly away from the barn, moving a little closer to Clay. He shouted in a language that Clay couldn’t understand, but the very sound of it was piercing, like nails down a chalkboard. Aliens. Fucking aliens.

But then, the one shouting directions surprised him.

“It’s been a long time,” it called out to him. “I think I heard you’re called Clay now. I last knew you as Vale, but that was some time ago.”

Clay took a half step backward, his heart hammering in his chest. They’d never spoken to him before. He’d begun to believe they couldn’t. It had been easier thinking of them as monsters chasing him in the night. But in the bright sunlight, listening to this…this thing that looked human, speaking perfectly accented English, was unsettling.