The Dark Edge Chronicles - Hardwire

Chapter 42: A Momentary Pause

Raven stirred restlessly, the sheets covering her bruised and pained body soaked in her perspiration as demons chased her without relent through her dreams. Creatures of darkness and shadow, the demons danced between beings half-animal, half man, seemingly drawn from the depths of her racial memory to become legends given flesh and blood. There danced Wendigo, the Master of Darkness and Evil, and the eater of human flesh, his fangs already red with her life's blood. Behind him cavorted Sasquatch, his shambling minion, ready to rend her limbs from her body with his great hairy hands.

And around them both, twisting about with a body that was unnaturally lithe and flexible was the Trickster himself, Coyote as he laughed outrageously at the pain and agony that his demons were causing this woman of the First Nations. A woman that, while she had stepped beyond her heritage to become a lone gunman, had never forgotten the West Coast people she had sprung from, the Haida.

As if in mockery of Raven's proud warrior heritage and her clan totem of the majestic raven, bringer of wisdom to the First Nations of the West Coast and the source of her lone gunman name, Coyote hopped into the air with a laugh. And instantly he transformed into the massive black bird of the coastal forests.

But, instead of having eyes dark with intelligence and cunning, this raven bore red eyes of malevolent intent, its long beak dripping with blood. And the laugh had become a caw, a harsh, croaking sound that sent a chill of fear racing down Raven's spine. Wings sweeping through the air, it moved towards her with a dark purpose.

Before it could reach her, however, a ripple of psionic bioenergy washed over the dark shape, transforming it once more. Swiftly it retook human shape, growing legs and sprouting arms in place of wings. And then, with a final flare of psionically generated light, it became human and stepped into view.

With a chill, Raven realized it was her fellow lone gunman that now faced her, Coyote, the smile on her fellow Native American cold and cruel. In that moment she knew it wasn't coincidence that she was named after the Trickster, who had tormented her but a heart beat before.

"We just want to talk, Raven," the slender lone gunman purred in a voice that Raven now recognized as being full of deceit and perversity. "Surely this whole situation between Katengaur and Mordecai can be solved peacefully, don't you think?"

Then the psionic storm was raining down on her and Raven felt her shields, which had snapped into place at the first sign of trouble, get battered down by the combined attentions of no less than four hardwires. She didn't stand a chance. 'May the spirits of Killer Whale, Bald Eagle, Bear and Raven give me strength!' she thought darkly as her shields fell away. And she braced herself for the blow that would tear away her consciousness and send her spiraling away into the darkness.

With a gasp Raven's eyes fluttered open, her body still aching with the remembrance of that blow, searing and ravaging as it tore through her and snuffed out her ability to use psionic energies and abilities.

"Just relax, Raven," a soft voice came from somewhere to the Native American hardwire's right. Eyes narrowing slightly, she shifted her head until the blonde head of Jeriko came into view. As she felt Raven's eyes roll onto her, Jeriko smiled.

"You're no longer in danger. We've brought you to a safe place!"

"Jeriko?" Raven rasped, her voice a hoarse whisper and her head abruptly pounding as she tried to understand what was going on. "You're ... you're alive? I thought you died in Duchesne's ambush!"

Jeriko's broad smile widened slightly and Raven started as she caught sight of Jeriko's werewolf fangs.

"I did," the Swedish hardwire admitted in a soft voice.