Starlight Read online

  Starlight

  By My Light, Book 2

  Mac Flynn

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Continue the adventure

  Other series by Mac Flynn

  Copyright (c) 2017 by Mac Flynn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  1

  Innocence is as fleeting as a perfect spring day, but unlike the seasons it doesn't come around once a year. Once it's gone, you never get it back. Ever.

  I had a lot of non-innocent thoughts as I sat on my bed and pulled at the collar of my shirt. I wore the outfit given to me by my jailers. It was a dark ensemble of a black blouse, black dress pants, shoes, socks, and a gray tie. The collar of the shirt was a little high to hide the metal collar I wore. The clothes annoyed me, the tie completely baffled me. I had no idea how to manage a tie, but I had plenty of ideas of whose throat I wanted to wrap it around.

  The day-old full moon still hung high in the sky, but for me its allure was gone. I only felt tired and defeated. My muscles still ached from the electric shock therapy administered by both William Fox and Aldus Emery the night before. I hadn't seen either of them all day because I'd slept through most of it. That was after I'd dragged myself to the bed wearing only a sheet. Now here I sat on the bed pulling at these strange clothes and with my stomach complaining of being empty.

  There was also the problem of my hands and eyes. I looked down at my hands and frowned. They were almost as fury as that of an ape, but with the hardened nails of a wolf. I had to scratch myself carefully or I would end up giving myself a nice gash. The problem with my eyes was less disturbing, but still troublesome. I glanced to my right at the vanity and its mirror. My yellow eyes stared back at me. They weren't a brilliant yellow, but golden-hued. The change was enough that people would stop me on the street for a picture and to ask where I got the contacts.

  I whipped my head to the left as the door opened. Emery stepped inside. He had a tray with a plate of rare meat tucked in one arm. Fox's assistant only partially closed the door behind him and walked over to me.

  "Good evening," he greeted me as he walked over to the bed. I glared back, but he didn't seem to notice. He set the tray on the bed in front of me. "Mr. Fox assumed you would like something to eat before tonight's training exercises."

  I arched an eyebrow. "What training?"

  He glanced at my hands. "The training that will assist you in controlling your new self."

  I tucked them underneath me. "And if I say no?"

  Emery pushed his glasses against his face and looked me in the eyes. "Then Mr. Fox will be forced to assume you no longer wish to abide by your agreement and you will remain in this room."

  I snorted. "'Agreement?' If I'm not a prisoner then I'm a lapdog for his orders."

  "Nevertheless, you agreed to assist in regathering the collection, and Mr. Fox expects even his lapdogs to abide by their agreements," Emery insisted.

  I frowned and glanced down at the meal. None of the meat was cooked. I reached for a steak, but the sight of the wolf hair and nails made me retract my hand.

  Emery held out one of his hands palm-up towards me. "May I?"

  I blinked at him. "May you what?"

  "You seem to have a problem with your hand," he pointed out.

  Something boiled over inside me. Maybe it was the stupid bit of pity I saw in his eyes, or maybe it was that my hands itched like crazy. Either way, I snapped. "A problem? A PROBLEM?" I shoved my hands in his direction and showed off their fur and sharp nails. "This is more than a problem!"

  "Perhaps this may be to our advantage," a voice spoke up. Emery and I looked to the door. Fox leaned against the doorway, and in his hands was a pair of black-colored pieces of cloth. "You may no longer have identifying fingerprints."

  "But I've got very identifying hands for anyone passing by me on the street," I bit back.

  "Not with these." He shook the clothes, and I realized they were thin, smooth leather gloves. "I noticed your unease on the cameras."

  I frowned and glanced around the room. I saw nothing but stone and wooden furniture. "What cameras?"

  He smiled and walked over to me where he held out the gloves. "Just a necessary precaution, but try them on."

  I folded my arms across my chest and tucked my hands into my armpits. "So now I have to wear gloves? What next, a tutu?"

  His eyes danced with mischief. "As pleasing as you would be in such an outfit, it would clash with the color scheme I've chosen for you."

  I rolled my eyes and snatched the gloves from his hand. I pulled them onto my hands. The fingers fit perfectly over my long nails and the leather prevented me from cutting myself. I flexed my hands and the leather stretched with them.

  "You seem to be having trouble with your tie, as well," Fox commented.

  I glared at him out of the corner of my eyes. "Now you're going to play dress-up with me?"

  "No. Emery will help you with your tie, as well as various other chores related to your training," Fox replied.

  I sniffed. "What's this whole training thing for? I helped you get the dragon, didn't I?"

  "We were fortunate then. We might not be so lucky the next time," Fox argued. "That's why you'll be going through training and strength testing." He looked to his assistant. "See that she eats and then take her to the gymnasium. I need to make a few calls and will join you later."

  Emery bowed to Fox. "As you wish, Mr. Fox."

  Fox left, and I eyed Emery with suspicion. "You don't have to babysit me. I'm not going to waltz out the front door."

  "That's fortunate. If you were to do so without first receiving Mr. Fox's permission the collar you wear would electrocute you," he informed me. He looked at the tie in my lap. "Would you like some assistance with that?"

  I glared at him and tossed the tie at him. "You can tie this stupid thing. I don't know how."

  "As you wish," he agreed.

  While he tied, I chomped. Like I said before, I was famished, and being stuck as a werewolf worsened the appetite. I skeletonized a few steak bones, and by the time I satiated my appetite Emery had long ago finished tying the tie knot. The tie now had a loop through which I could stick my head and tighten the knot. He held the tie out to me, and I took it and cinched it around my neck.

  "Why do I have to wear this stupid thing, anyway? Another dragon's just going to singe it off," I pointed out.

  "There was only one dragon in Mr. Fox's collection," he informed me.

  I raised an eyebrow. "What exactly was in his collection? Besides one dragon and one unwilling werewolf?"

  "Many of the creatures originated in mythology. Mr. Fox hunted through many old pieces of literature to find them," he replied.

  "Yeah, but what are they?" I persisted.

  He pressed his glasses against his nose. I took that as a sign of annoyance. "You saw, of course, the bird that destroyed the rooftop?"

  I gave a nod. "The one with the colors. What about it?"

  "That was a phoenix."

  I snorted. "Phoenix don't exist."

  "Neither do werewolves," he pointed out. I frowned, but said nothing. He took th
e tray of half-eaten meat. "If you are finished with your meal then we can proceed to the gymnasium."

  He turned away, but I held out my gloved hand. "Wait." He looked back at him, and I nodded at the plate. "Why no potatoes? Why just meat?"

  "The changes to your system make you better suited to eating meat rather than tuberous vegetables," he explained.

  "So I can't eat potato chips anymore?" I asked him.

  "That is uncertain. We would need to try a small dose to see the effects," he replied. He turned away to face the door. "Now if you will come with me."

  I slid off the bed onto my unsteady legs. My body hadn't processed the meat yet, and after that electric shock therapy they still weren't sure they wanted to support me. I stumbled after Emery who led me outside my room and into a hallway. The decor was still medieval, with stone walls and floors, and wooden doors, but the lights on the walls were electric.

  "Why does Fox live in a castle?" I asked my guide as he led me down the passage.

  "Mr. Fox is fond of Arthurian legends. The blueprints of this castle are based off the original design of King Arthur's Camelot," Emery told me.

  "This guy really likes his fairy tales. . ." I mumbled.

  "I can assure you Mr. Fox is well-versed in the realities of such stories, as well as their more fantastical elements," Emery argued.

  The halls were too many to keep track of and I soon found myself lost in the sea of gray and brown. Emery led us down to the ground level and to the rear of the castle. We arrived at a pair of large wooden doors. Emery opened them and revealed a small gymnasium. To the near left was a large area filled with all sorts of weight-lifting equipment. On the right was a wall of doors with windows, and through them I saw a padded room like a dojo. At the rear of the area was a small track and an Olympic-sized pool.

  "Wow. . ." I murmured as we walked inside.

  Emery set the tray on a nearby table and turned to me. "Mr. Fox believes a healthy body leads to a healthy mind. Now if you will follow me we will begin the tests."

  I cringed. "I can't wait. . ."

  2

  Emery led me over to the weight area and to an unusual treadmill. The panel wasn't on the front of the treadmill, but on the wall five feet in front of the machine. Emery gestured to the treadmill.

  "If you would step on here please we can begin your speed testing," he told me.

  I reluctantly stepped onto the treadmill while Emery walked over to the panel on the wall. He pressed a few flat buttons on the colorful panel and turned to me.

  "Are you ready?"

  I shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be."

  "Very well. We will begin." He pressed a button and the treadmill started.

  The initial pace was slow. I could have walked it in my sleep. I folded my arms and grinned.

  "Is this it?" I asked him.

  "I will now increase the speed in increments," he warned me.

  He pressed the lowest button on a column and the speed increased. I changed my pace to a quick walk. He pressed the button again, and I matched the increase. We went back and forth, each button a higher speed. I turned from walking to jogging, and finally sprinting. My tired, aching legs burned. There was only a few buttons left on the column. His finger hovered over the next button.

  "Do you wish to continue?" he asked me.

  "Why. . .not?" I gasped.

  Emery pressed the button. The treadmill kicked into a whole different gear. I stumbled forward and my foot tripped on the belt. I fell face-first onto the belt and I was thrown from the rear of the treadmill. I tumbled into a pile of weights near a bench press and lay there in silent agony as bruises formed on my back and arms.

  Emery shut off the machine and walked over to me. He offered me his hand. "My sincerest apologies, Miss Rogers. My instructions were to test your greatest speed."

  I rubbed my head and glared at him. "What'd you crank it up to? Cheetah?"

  The corners of his lips turned up. "On the contrary, your greatest speed was merely fifty miles an hour. A cheetah is capable of sixty."

  I blinked at him. "Seriously? That's all I could do?"

  "Yes," he told me.

  I sighed and struggled to my feet, ignoring his hand. "I thought being a werewolf was supposed to make me faster."

  "You are faster. The fastest recorded speed for a human is forty-four miles per hour," he told me.

  "So anybody can almost outrun me?" I asked him.

  "Wolves are not built for speed. They are long-distance runners," he pointed out.

  I rolled my eyes. "Great. I might be able to catch the Road Runner if he has to break for a drink."

  "That would be a useful skill if that particular creature had been in my collection," a voice spoke up. Emery and I turned to see Fox stride towards us. He wore a long black overcoat over his customary dark business suit. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this training session short. One of the collection was spotted in City Park."

  City Park was the largest public park in the city, and named by an especially unimaginative city council. It had the usual winding paved paths and old trees, and lay along the Cam River, a mess of water that wound through the city.

  Emery pressed his glasses against his face. "You mean-"

  Fox nodded. "Perhaps. We can't be sure until we confirm the reports."

  "What's supposed to be there?" I asked him.

  Fox turned away from me and faced the door. "We can discuss the finer details on the ground. My helicopter is waiting to take us there."

  I balled my hands into fists and glared at his back. "Wait a sec! How am I supposed to help you if you're going to be hush-hush with what's in your collection?"

  "You will be given information when I deem it necessary," Fox answered. He strode towards the door.

  I reached for his arm. "If you don't need me then why-" The moment my fingers grasped his sleeve I felt a savage jolt from my collar. I screamed and stumbled back. Emery caught me before my wobbling lefts collapsed beneath me.

  Fox paused and turned to me. "While you slept the collar's specifications were slightly modified. If you touch me in any way without my permission the collar will activate."

  I growled at him and shrugged out of Emery's grasp. I thrust a finger at the collar. "Are you trying to kill me with this thing?"

  "Don't take it personally. It's merely a precautionary step to keep us both from doing something we would regret." Fox put a hand in the pocket of his overcoat and the front of the coat opened wide enough for me to see the butt of a gun poked out from a chest holster. "Now if you would please follow me to the helicopter."

  I clenched my teeth and followed Fox at a safe distance. He led me to the hall outside the gymnasium, and down that to a pair of steel doors. They slid open to reveal an elevator, and we stepped inside. Fox pressed a button with the word Roof and the elevator shot upward. I stumbled into one of the corners and grabbed hold of the hand railing to steady myself.

  "What the hell's pulling this thing? A jet engine?" I asked him.

  "Nothing as impressive, I assure you. The elevator was built to my specifications in case an emergency should arise," he explained.

  "Like a dragon?" I guessed.

  He gave me that crooked smile. "A helicopter would have made for a very ineffective escape."

  "You're right, it was a lot more effective being on the rooftop," I quipped.

  "That was where the water cannon was located," he reminded me.

  The elevator stopped and the doors swung open to reveal a helicopter pad. The helicopter sat on the pad. It was a sleek black vehicle with two sets of blades for greater stability in adverse weather conditions. The propellers were running, but there wasn't anyone in the driver's seat. Fox himself took that position and directed me into the passenger seat beside him.

  We took off and flew over the rooftop of Indigo Tower. The scar on the lawn was replaced with new sod, and construction had already begun on the right wing to reconstruct the cells. I stared with appre
hension at the repairs. I would have rather the place been razed to the ground.

  "I hope you don't mind the heights," Fox shouted at me.

  I turned away from the Tower and crossed my arms over my chest. "The view could be better," I retorted.

  Fox flew us over to City Park. The one thousand acres of lush vegetation was an oasis in a concrete jungle of steel and glass. A couple of small ponds dotted the green landscape. Old trees and bushes grew along paved foot and bike paths. Most of the western edge of the park bordered the Cam River that snaked its way northwest through the city. Two parking lots sat on opposite sides of the park: one in the northwest and another in the southwest. Lights lit up both the paths and the parking lots.

  Fox steered us towards the trees and set us down in a patch of grass among the thickest part of the woods. He shut off the engine and jumped out, and I followed. Fox pulled out a flat device like a tablet and tapped a few buttons. He walked a few yards forward and lifted his eyes from the tablet to the ground.

  "It seems our quarry was here," he commented. He turned until he faced the south. His smile slipped onto his lips. "Bingo." He jerked his head towards the trees in front of him. "This way."

  I jerked my head towards the helicopter. "Is it okay to just leave that here?"

  "How foolish of me to forget." He pulled the keys and pressed a button on its attachment. I jumped back when thin sheets of metal slid up and down from the roof and belly. The sheets covered the glass and entombed the helicopter. I rapped my knuckle on the metal. It gave a solid dinging sound. Fox stuffed the device into his coat. "Now if you would follow me."

  Fox hurried into the brush, and I followed from a healthy distance. I fended off sharp bushes and limbs that tried to strangle me with my tie.

  "What exactly are we after?" I asked him.

  "Our prey for tonight is a monocerotem," he told me.

  I blinked at his back. "A what?" We broke through the brush and found ourselves on one of the lit paths. There was an intersection of three paths in front of us that led to the north, east, and west. A mess of flies lay near its base. I grimaced and shielded my eyes with my arm. "Why are the lights so bright? They think muggers are afraid of light?"

  "The lights are as they've always been. Yours eyes are now better adapted to the dark, as evidenced by their change in color," Fox replied.