The Dyad Chronicles - Book Three It is the time of nesting.
An immortal Dyad is dead. The females go into heat as the need to replace their loss overwhelms them. Damien's blood runs molten. The drive to reproduce threatens his sanity. But Damien is far from the Dyad home city. As he stands on the brink of madness, a female, a human, offers herself to him. It is forbidden. He must resist...
Emma watches the immortal she secretly loves fall apart. She knows what Damien needs...a female. She is female. Why shouldn't she save the man she loves? But during their joining, Damien marks Emma as his mate. An action so profoundly un-Dyad the Elders haven't made a rule against it - yet.
With the future of both races at stake, will Damien and Emma find a way to resist the passion burning between them or risk everything in a desperate attempt to stay together?
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An Excerpt From: DYAD LOVE
Copyright © ANN HINNENKAMP, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Prologue
New York City, 1:00 a.m.
These humans will be the death of me.
Caleb’s pounding footsteps kept time with the helicopter blades above him. No doubt remained. The humans were herding him, just as they did the poor cattle in their slaughterhouses. They forced him west toward some unknown trap. To test this theory, he pivoted and sprinted north. A moment later, a tranquilizer dart whizzed past his head, missing him by inches. Left with no choice, he turned back west and increased his pace, trying to outdistance his attackers before they could close the circle.
The helicopter gunned its engine and swerved to avoid a chimney. For an instant, the circle of light that had been his constant companion lost him. He took advantage of the momentary respite and changed course, retracing his path over the rooftop. As he put on a burst of speed, he dug deep into his fading power reserve and channeled energy to his weakened body. The muscles in his legs tingled with power as he approached the end of the roof.
Fifty feet of air separated his roof from the next. Caleb silently thanked the Balance that New York was a typical, modern human city, everything packed together with no thought given to nature or future consequences. When they’d run out of room on the ground, forcing out or penning up every animal in their path, humans had done the only thing their small minds could envision. They’d built up.
He reached for the power and as he had done fifty times since the chase began, mentally placed himself on the other side of the gap, willing his physical body to follow. As soon as he cleared the roof, a gust of wind took him and he used it to surf the air current between the buildings. Even this high above the ground, the pollution in the air spoiled what would otherwise be a pleasant experience. He shut down his sense of smell and blocked the worst of it but the corruption still seeped into his pores, further depleting his energy.
A bone in his ankle snapped when he landed, forcing him into a controlled roll. Behind him, light swept the area he would have been in had he not changed course. Humans—so predictable, and yet so ruthless.
Unable to stand, he scuttled on all fours until he found the rooftop access. He forced open the door and threw himself into the stairwell a second before the accursed light flashed over it. The pain in his ankle finally registered and he used the last of his power reserve to knit the bone, sighing with relief as the pain faded.
The change of course had bought him one, maybe two minutes before they found him again. Time enough to form some sort of plan or at least review his options. If only Daniel were with him. Daniel, his human partner for over two hundred years, would have offered his life force to replenish Caleb’s power. He could have drawn just enough of Daniel’s precious essence for the strength he needed to get them both out of this impossible situation.
But the humans had killed Daniel. They’d snuffed out his life force with no more remorse than swatting a mosquito. Daniel, who had stood strong and tall beside Caleb, defending human kind against their worst enemy—themselves. Honorable, intelligent, steadfast Daniel. A man worth a hundred of those who pursued Caleb. His constant companion and friend though the centuries—gone.
Caleb pushed aside thoughts of Daniel and the bone-deep grief he knew would follow. There was no time for grief. The humans had robbed him of even that small comfort. With the net closing around him, he knew what must be done.
The same problem had plagued his race for eons—too many humans. The sheer number of them boggled the mind. They multiplied the same way they built their cities, with no thought given to what their increased numbers would do to the planet. A planet they shared, if unknowingly, with his race, the Dyads.
Loud thumps on the roof above him heralded the hunters’ approach. Caleb used the wall to gain his feet, tested the ankle and frowned at the twinge of pain. Not his best work, but with no reserve left, it would have to do. As he ran down the stairs, he sent his senses out to search the building, hoping for a solution.
One thing was clear, he could not be caught. The prime directive of the Dyad race, what had kept them alive for so long, was absolute secrecy. The men chasing him only suspected the truth. If they got their hands on his body, he would become their lab animal, poked and prodded until all his secrets were theirs. Once knowledge of his race and what they could do became public, the true nightmare would begin.
His people would be hunted down, separated and imprisoned. The humans would fare no better. Wars would break out, nation against nation, to gain control of the Dyad power. It would be the end of them all and they would exterminate every living thing on the planet in their wake.
A dart whizzed past Caleb’s face.
“Here,” an excited voice above him shouted. “He’s in the stairwell.”
Caleb flew down the stairs, the soles of his boots barely skimming the concrete. Men poured into the opening above him, the sound of their footsteps thundering off the cement walls. He sent out his senses to encompass the entire building. Twenty-five floors of apartments sprawled beneath him, reminding Caleb of an organized anthill. In the small rooms people slept, ate, fought, and in a few lucky cases, made love.
Far below, in the basement, he sensed what he needed.
Pain shot through his upper body. He reached up and pulled a dart out of his shoulder. The drug spread quickly, numbing his entire torso before he stopped it. When he tried to reverse the effect, he found an empty void where his power usually lived. In this state, he was no better than the mortals who followed.
In the lobby beneath him, more men flooded in. They separated into three groups, one group to each of the two elevators, and the last headed up the stairs, cutting off his escape. The net was tightening.
Looking up, Caleb realized he’d managed to put some distance between himself and his pursuers. As quietly as possible, he slowed his pace and ducked through a door labeled twelfth floor. As he ran down the hall to the other side of the building, smells assaulted him. Each apartment sent out a flavor of the lives within. Cigarette smoke, garlic, body odor and sweet perfume washed over him as he ran.
At the far end of the hall, Caleb stopped and pulled open the garbage chute. With no other option available, he wiggled his upper body into the small opening and kicked his legs into the air. Gravity took over. He plummeted down twelve stories, his shoes and shoulders banging against the aluminum walls, sending echoes of sound up the chute, announcing his position. He braced for impact and the pain he knew would follow. There was just enough time after he cleared the chute to rotate his body before he hit. Instead of head first, he landed on his left side on a pile of plastic garbage bags that burst beneath him. He heard his collarbone snap but felt no pain. The drug in the dart had been a blessing after all.
As he struggled to stand, only the right side of his body responded. The left leg wouldn’t take his weight. A hiss escaped him when he looked at his left forearm, broken so badly the bone protruded through his shirt sleeve. Still no pain. Was he in shock?
What would the other Dyads say if they could see him now, his body broken and covered in human garbage? Proud Caleb brought low by a pack of primates. Cut off from all help, unable to reach for the Balance to channel power. Even though he knew it was impossible, Caleb centered himself and reached for the Balance. He sent his senses beneath the building, into the earth, searching for the life force of the planet, the foundation of the Dyad civilization, the Holy Balance. But without his brother Connor the Balance eluded him. After all, what was a Dyad but a group of two?
Like all Dyad pairs, he and Connor were one being born in two separate bodies. They could link telepathically, share each other’s thoughts. They also shared physicality. Caleb looked at the bone sticking out of his shirt sleeve and knew that Connor’s arm was broken in the same place. It took both of them together to reach the Balance and channel it into power. Alone, they were incomplete and could only draw power from their human partners. But the power from the humans paled beside the pure energy of the Balance.
For the hundredth time, Caleb cursed himself for separating from Connor. To separate when they knew the humans were hunting them seemed suicidal now, but he had thought it increased their chances of escape. He had counted on their human partners to replenish their power. Never, for one moment, had he thought the humans would kill Daniel. Once again, Caleb had underestimated the human lust for killing.
Caleb hopped to the center of the room and took in his surroundings. A gigantic boiler took up half the room. It reminded him of a metal spider lying on its back, its long legs reaching to the ceiling and going off in every direction, sending life-giving heat to the rooms above. Remarkable, when he thought about it. Humans had gone from huddling around fires to this complicated spider in a relatively short time span.
Pain shot down his arm, and when he looked at it, hope increased his heart rate. As he watched, some unseen power drew the bone in from the hole in his shirt. Once the bone had cleared the hole, Caleb pushed his shirt sleeve up for a better look. Like a puppet manipulated by an invisible puppeteer, the bone wiggled back and forth, adjusting itself until it lined up as if it had never been broken. The ragged tears in his skin started to close. In moments the arm looked good as new.
Caleb smiled. This could mean only one thing. Connor had escaped and reached a group of Dyads. The Dyads were using their collective power to heal Connor and as Connor healed, so did Caleb. He reached up and ran his fingers over his collarbone. Not a trace of the break remained.
Maybe he would live through this night after all.
Inhaling deeply, he focused and sent his mind down the mental channel reserved for his brother. From far away, Caleb sensed a flicker of Connor but was unable to reach him. Too much distance with too much pollution separated them. Human pollution always got in the way.
Caleb felt the moment when the men above him realized where he was. Soon after, both elevators were headed down loaded with rifle-toting soldiers, already anticipating his capture. In the stairwell, another group descended. Outside the building, all exits were covered.
The hope he had felt a moment ago drained away. Caleb had run out of options.
He went to the door and shot home the bolt. The sturdy lock would buy him some time. Forcing himself to the calm he needed, he sent a silent farewell off into the night for anyone who might hear it. He had a fleeting moment of fear and panic, but he pushed it away, walked to the center of the room and began the Dyad prayer of ending.
“We stand together before you, my brother and I.
In the sight of all who have journeyed on before us.”
Behind Caleb, someone pounded on the door. He ignored them and continued on.
“We ask to be accepted into your company.
We offer all the knowledge we have acquired.
We offer all the love we have known.
We offer everything we have been and hoped to be.
In the name of the Balance, let us journey on with you.”
With the banging door thundering behind him, Caleb went to the boiler and drew open the metal door. The heat generated by the one-inch gas jets washed over him. He reached over and turned the heat gauge to full. The jets tripled in size and the resulting heat seared his skin. Unfazed, he turned, walked to the center of the room and lined himself up with the boiler door.
One last time he tried to reach his brother, but failed. “Forgive me, Connor.”
His biggest regret was not being with his brother at the end. It was unnatural for a Dyad to die apart. He hoped the priests were right and he would find his brother on the other side.
Caleb threw his hands above his head. Instead of the industrial ceiling above him, he envisioned a spring sky, full of hope and promise. “For the Dyad race. Long may it continue in the Balance.”
With a running start, he headed straight to the boiler and dove in.
Twenty-five miles away, surrounded by Dyads, Caleb’s brother, Connor, threw his head back and screamed in agony. He had only a moment to watch his skin melting before he whispered, “Caleb, no, not apart,” and followed the other half of his Dyad into death.
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