Finally, as the distance lessened even more, and the gang members shifted around to stare my way, I noticed two slender forms right in the center of the scum. Females. And they were trapped in a sort of gate or cage.
I ground to a complete halt as a familiar face came into view. I knew the female with the tall muscular form and brown curls.
“Is that … Chrissie?” Lucy was right beside me.
Both of us focused on the two caged females. The pair stood back-to-back in fighter-protection mode, and there was no way I wouldn’t recognize that strong stance. I’d been on the receiving end of Chrissie’s fight-style too many times not to remember it well.
“Yes,” I said, a tinge of sorrow lacing my words.
I hadn’t forgotten our last meeting. Her friend had died, and Chrissie had laid the blame at my feet. She had good reasons to be mad with me. It had been because of me that Olden was at the Compound. That she’d been in a position to target the females and access Walker energy.
“She looks different,” Lucy said.
As the boys completed our foursome, the gangers started to advance toward us, grouping together to form a single line of defense.
Chrissie and the other female – who stood a little taller than my old friend – were forgotten for the moment.
As the men cleared the space and headed in our direction, I noticed more females huddled near the other side of the fenced area. Probably waiting for their turn to perform for the gangers. Was it like a sales yard or something? Did the girls have to fight and the winner would achieve the awesome goal of being worthy of the smugglers? Was this a sort of fight-ring? What the freaking heck?
My eyes were drawn to Chrissie again. Lucy was right: she did look different.
“Yes, she’s changed,” I said.
She looked older, harder around the edges. When I had left Earth, Chrissie had been close to sixteen, but with the way Earth’s time ran differently, she was probably the same age as us now.
“Do you think she’s my half-Walker?” It didn’t sit right with me, but there was no denying that the golden cord was leading right into that cage.
I suppose it could explain the reason she’d been in our compound. Like Lucy, she might have been placed there, or drawn to my energy. Still … it just didn’t seem right.
A flash of golden hair caught my attention and I shifted my gaze to the other chick, who was standing protectively at Chrissie’s back. She was in a clear line of sight now, and I could see she held a particularly lethal-looking sword in her right hand. The blade was large, the length of my arm at least, and even in the half-light I could see it was red. Was that blood coating the blade, or was its natural color red? Either way, this female looked utterly badass.
Chrissie was a really pretty girl, but the blonde was stunningly beautiful. Her golden hair was pulled off her face, and secured high on her head in a ponytail. My Walker sight was enough that I could see the way her eyes glowed as they locked in on me, golden with hints of brown and yellow threading them. She had full lips, which were pressed into an angry line. Defiance and rage glowed in every facet of her stance. She was captivating, and had the distinct beauty of a Walker. But then, so did Chrissie. One of these two was my half-Walker; the golden cord left me no doubt of that.
Brace shifted at my side, and the taller blonde’s golden-brown eyes flicked across. The moment she registered the sheer size and masculine potency of my mate, some of the hardness in her features softened. Uh, okay. Clearly she liked what she saw. Which was all good, as long as she didn’t touch.
Until this point Chrissie hadn’t noticed us. She’d been distracted by the gangers and then the girls slumped on the ground, but blondie must have said something, because Chrissie’s head whipped around. A myriad of emotions crawled across her face, and I didn’t have to wonder if she’d forgiven me; her features were hard, anger flaring to life in her narrowed eyes.
Okay, she hadn’t quite reached forgiveness in the seven-step program.
All of a sudden my attention was off the females and back on the gangers. Every single one of them had just pulled forth weapons and were advancing in our direction. I even saw a few guns. This was definitely a big deal. Those rare weapons were reserved for ganger leaders.
“They have guns,” I said, needing to warn my friends.
This has to be the leaders of the people-smuggling ring in this area, I said to Brace.
Sounds like the sort of humans who won’t be missed. His reply was flat.
“Who are you?” One of the males stepped forward. His features were Hispanic and he was well dressed, better than most gangers, and had no visible tattoos. Which was odd. “We have business to attend to here, so if you’d like to keep your lives, we’ll give you one chance to walk away.”