To Race the Wylde Wynd Ch. 38

His superiors were pushing Constantine to end his vacation and return to duty. There were a couple of nasty problems that had cropped up that needed his particular... talents. Sig agreed to stay and give the Talon a lift whenever he was ready. The Captain had found the casinos. The Windrider wouldn't admit it but he was having a great time.

It didn't take Templer long to figure out he needed to stay a few days longer. Chrysta was a TERRIBLE patient. She didn't like the healer (although the gunman couldn't find it in his heart to blame her.) and would NOT follow his instructions. The physician refused to use a Blessing for fear of some weird cross dimensional interaction. On the morning of day two SOMEHOW... the woman convinced Grant to do it. The Talon made it very clear when he found the bartender helping her to sit up afterward, that he would NOT be leaving the two of them ALONE together again.

Although the Blessing worked as it should, Chrysta was still sore not to mention weak from blood loss. This was something only time would heal. The healer demanded she stay in bed. By the evening of the second day, she had used everything in her arsenal trying to convince the Constantine to let her leave and rest in her OWN room. He disregarded the grumbling. He pretended he didn't hear the cajoling and acted as though he was asleep through the badgering. In the end she resorted to WHINING. Azra was absolutely NO help. He suggested that Chrysta would PROBABLY rest easier in her own bed.

As the gunman carried her back to the Ironwood, (tubes needles and all!) the Talon did his best to ignore Grant's "HAH, she got to you too!" look along with the smug little smile on Chrysta's face.

Grant came up later that night. He grinned when he saw the woman curled up asleep against Templer's side on the bed. The priest put down the book he was reading when he saw the look on the barman's face. The finger he put to his lips admonished silence. Grant got his grin under control. The big man set a glass of red wine and one of water (Oh...Chrysta will LOVE that!) on the night stand and dropped a long sheet of paper in front of the book in Templer's hand. Then he very quietly gathered up the Talon's dirty clothing and slipped back out of the room.

The priest took a moment to study the paper and contemplated waking the woman to show it to her. It seemed the other Don's had made Diego see the light. Grant was now the sole owner of Paradise Valley. He studied the face of the peacefully sleeping hellion next to him and then shot a glance at the glass of wine and his book. The pleasant silence won out. Templer let the woman sleep.

The next morning the Talon got the woman to drink the whole glass of water by promising to remove the needles that she (and he) detested. Chrysta drank it with NO complaints and sipped her coffee while he kept his end of the bargain. When he came out from taking a quick shower the woman was standing at the window watching the courtyard. She had the folded deed dangling out of one hand. Azra assured him that, although still a little shaky, she was fine.

Grant had returned his clothing. They were clean and folded neatly. Where the spider-silk had been repaired with neat tiny stitches... the fabric was slowly weaving itself whole.

“You would be surprised at how neatly Grant can tie a stitch. He is almost as good at it as you.”

Chrysta had left the window and settled herself carefully on the duvet. She watched him dress, her face quiet and still.

“You are planning on leaving, aren't you?”

Templer hesitated as he buckled the last strap on his cloak. The priest didn't realize he had tucked his chin down behind its high collar, hiding his face as conflicting emotions caused his stomach to roll.

Chrysta's sharp eyes noticed though. They shuttered themselves and she casually turned to look back out of the window.

“I understand Constantine. Just be sure to remember your promise and at least come to say good bye.”

“Hnnnn... I would tell you that now. Just in case I don't have time to come by later.”

Templer flinched, hating himself when her head dropped a little.

Then those strong shoulders straightened and Chrysta looked back at him with a slight smile.

“Do you think you will come back through this way?”

The Talon shrugged awkwardly,

“It is... possible.”

The woman slowly stood and came to stand in front of him. She pulled his collar down revealing his face and softly kissed him on the lips.

“Well then... good-bye Templer Constantine.”

Her green eyes stared deep into his.

“And good-bye Azra.... it has truly been an honor to meet you.”

The outrider did not utter a word until they were halfway down the stairs, then he growled very softly.

“Constantine... You are such a coward!”

Templer froze in his tracks and savagely snarled.
“Azra... what in the seven Hells do you think will happen to Chrysta and her destria when I go back on the Maker's table? She might not be Tainted by the re-gen virus... but they will consider her a threat just the same. Mother of Demons... El Diablo is going to scare the living SHIT out of them. Add to this that woman's connections, no matter HOW tenuous, to the House Dracul...”

Azra hissed as he finally saw what caused his Host's mind to practically freeze in fear.

“Oh...HOLY... Templer... they will give Chrysta to the Inquisition and will turn her valley and everything in it to smoke and ASH!”

“BINGO... and just WHO do you think will get assigned this pleasant task?!”

When the outrider answered... it was in a sick whisper.

“What are we going to do?”

Constantine continued down the stairs.

“WE... are going to get as far away from here as possible. WE... are going to keep our heads down and do WHAT we are told, when we are told to do it. WE are going to pray to whatever deity will listen that I can keep our asses out of the Maker's labs. Last but not least... WE... are going to try and FORGET about Chrysta until we can figure out a viable excuse to pay a visit to the Crown Prince of HELL.”

Foul weather moving in that afternoon took their departure time out of their hands. Sig wanted to get his Clipper out of the area before it hit. The storms this close to the Waste, although not on par with the Wylde Wynds that slammed that blighted land, were known for abundant lightening and their unpredictably winds. The wild elementals contained within the massive front would make the Tengshe under the Wind-Masters control squirrely at best. Templer did find a quick moment to make it back to the Ironwood. When he opened the door, Chrysta was sound asleep on the duvet. Templer slipped into the room and stood for a long moment just watching her sleep. Then... the man knelt down, ruffled his fingers ever so carefully through her hair and lightly brushed her lips with his.

“Good-bye Chrysta.”

He whispered softly against her mouth.

The woman stirred but did not wake.

Grant watched him come down the stairs for the last time with understanding on his open face. The man lifted a hand and the Templer nodded in farewell.

Ugly black clouds were building on the horizon when Sig delicately lifted his WindClipper out of town.

They were about ten miles out when Constantine couldn't stand it anymore. If Azra didn't quit radiating unhappiness, his host just might have to get creative in finding a way to kill himself!

“AZRA... do you want to go back and say good-bye in person?”

“YES... very much so... I just hesitated to ask as your physical condition is not the best right now. Your body has been through a lot this past week.”

The Talon groaned softly,

“Go ahead, one more time will not hurt.”

His outrider chuckled darkly,

“Yes... it will! Tell the Windrider I will catch up.”

Azra winged back towards Edgewater at almost his top speed. He suspected Chrysta was a lot more upset by their leaving then she let on. He didn't trust that Grant could keep her from over extending herself too quickly. The sight that presented itself in the courtyard confirmed one of his suspicions. Chrysta had somehow gotten by Grant and was standing outside with Nuva, talking to another person. The outrider's sharp eyes picked up on the fact that she was wearing one of her leather riding vests.

With a shock, Azra recognized the person she was arguing with. It was the redheaded son of Diego. The outrider picked up speed. He was too far away to react when the woman lashed out, planting a fist upside the man's face. Rafe staggered back and clawed at his sidearm. Azra dropped fast but knew he wouldn't be able to beat the man's shot.

He need not have worried. Nuva reached the fool as he brought the gun up and buried her long black fangs in the redhead's shoulder. She yanked him up, flipping his body across the courtyard like a doll. When the man landed, he lost the gun. Azra landed lightly beside the woman as Nuva STALKED her victim, following him intently as he tried to crawl away.

“DON'T kill him Nuva.”

The woman murmured this quietly as she watched the mare clinically study Rafe. Almost casually Nuva snapped a fore hoof down, breaking his leg. At the redhead's scream, Azra slashed a look at the woman standing quietly beside him. She made no move to stop the destria. Her eyes gleamed rich blue and a nasty smile curled her lips. The outrider realized that she was not only sharing in the old mare's vicious retribution. She was ENJOYING it! HOLY... He loved this woman. Constantine was a FOOL to let a gem like this get away. No matter the logic! Azra's initial plan changed then and there. Trying to deny this piece of his heart would tear what was left of Templer's sanity apart. Somehow they would find a way to protect what both of them loved. Another scream from the redhead drew his attention and Azra saw that the mare had nipped a good size chunk out of the boy's ass.

Chrysta snickered evilly,

“I'll bet that leaves a scar!”

Nuva plucked the man up by the collar and hoisted him over the fence and into El Diablo's paddock.

This time Chrysta moved.

“CRAP! NUVA... what part of... DON'T kill him didn't you get?”

Nuva snaked her head at her lifelong trainer and popped black fangs together.

Chrysta stopped in her tracks.

“Damn it... if El Diablo kills him, we will end up with a blood bath on our hands.” She turned with a sigh... and walked back to the outrider.

“On the flip side, Nuva is right. Inferno was El Diablo's son too.”

They watched as the big silver flowed towards Rafe. The man was pushing himself backwards on his bleeding ass but wasn't making much headway due his other injuries. El Diablo stopped and dropped his head to look the redhead right in the eye. Whatever Diego's son saw there, it had him screaming and begging. With a deep guttural moan, the stallion reared, striking that terrifying killing pose. He slashed down with both front legs. His spurs opened Rafe's face in two deep slashes that traveled down his cheeks from his eyes to his chin. The man curled up in a weeping ball. El Diablo nosed him once in contempt and then walked away.

Grant came running out when he heard all the screaming. Chrysta sighed and turned towards him.

“Guess we had better get him out of there and over to Dr. Whitet's office.”

The bartender just curled his lip.

Azra shifted, his golden eyes hot.

“OH... PLEASE... let me do the honors.”

The woman eyed the winged one narrowly.

“We REALLY don't need a range war Azra. Promise me you won't kill him.”

The outrider cleared the fence and scooped the bleeding, broken man up.

“I will PROMISE no such thing when it comes to this stinking piece of offal!”

He pointed a sharp black talon at Chrysta.

“You...though. I promise to kick your lovely little ass if you don't STAY... RIGHT... THERE!”

The woman sputtered but Azra did not stick around to see that she obeyed. He shot up until the town appeared very small and lifted the arrogant young man so they were face to face. The redhead just stared at him in terror, eyes already glazing as he slipped into venom induced shock. The Outrider gave the man a light shake to make sure he had his attention.

“If YOU or your useless sire even consider causing Chrysta any more harm... or even just a little grief... you had better pray that her destria kill you. If they don't... I promise on the Vows that Bind me, no matter where you hide, my host and I will run you to ground. Be you on Earth or in Hell... WE... WILL... find you!”

Azra dropped his distasteful burden at the town Healer's office, slightly amused by both doctor Whitet and his receptionist trying to hide under the office desk.

When the outrider landed back in the courtyard, Chrysta was quietly checking that the long slashes down Nuva's sides were healing well. The sound of the approaching storm's thunder ALMOST drowned out his rumbling growl. She turned to eye him cautiously. One hand reached out and casually tapped her hard leather chest guard with a sharp claw.

“SOOO...” He snarled, “Were you planning on going... RIDING!?”

His gold eyes glinted wickedly.

A slight flush rose up her high cheeks.

“NO... Grant made me put this on before he would let me come out.”
“
"HUMMMM...Is it laced up nice and tight?”

Was it possible for a demon to sound innocent? Azra gave it his best shot.

Chrysta gave the vest a light tug,

“Grant laced it himself, so yes...It is VERY tight.”

“GOOD...!”

The outrider gave her no warning. He just picked her up and took off.

“OH... SHIT!”

Chrysta wrapped her arms around the outrider's neck in a death grip. She buried her face, eyes closed, under his chin. Azra climbed hard, covering ground at a tremendous rate of speed. He leveled out on the topside of the storm. He knew he couldn't stay here long, there was not enough oxygen but he needed the height to gain the speed for what he wanted to do.

“Chrysta...” Azra murmured softly in her ear. “Do you TRUST me?”

The question startled her enough that Chrysta unburied her face and looked up at him.

“Of course I trust you!”

The woman in his arms looked down... and froze. This was not fear though. She was stunned by the eerie beauty of the black roiling clouds below them being lit from within by the fires of hell...or heaven.

“Oh...” She whispered.

Azra could not help himself. He breathed in her intoxicating spicy scent and ran a tongue along the edge of her ear.

“Know this then, I...WE... will NEVER... let you fall!”

The outrider shifted the woman until her back was held firmly against his chest. He crossed his arms so he was holding her tight across the hard chest guard. He was glad for that piece of leather. If she hadn't had it on he couldn't do this. Hooking a leg over hers... he dove.

The wind snatched her scream as they dropped into a canyon created by the clouds. Azra dodged the lightening. Dipping from one side to the other he compensated for some of the turbulence that wracked these storms. For a moment... one of the wild Tengshe dancing on the wind partnered with them in an exuberant airborne ballet. The elemental dragon gaped its mighty mouth in a joyful grin then with a flip of its serpentine body, it gave the outrider a needed boost of speed as it sent them along. Leveling out a little, he raced for the wild wind at the head of the storm. They lifted right before they reached the great horizontal vortex that the massive front was pushing along. Azra timed it perfectly, riding the crest then inserted himself neatly into the wave.

He could hear the woman screaming but it wasn't the scent of feat that he smelled on her. It was pure exhilaration. They surfed the curl, picking up even more speed as the powerful wind helped push them along. Azra tightened his wings in. Skating on the edge of control he shot along the tunnel created within the wave. Smaller Tengshe danced and twisted around them, gleefully drafting in their wake. All too soon they reached the end of the vortex. With the storm threatening to crash over them, Azra came rocketing out of the clouds to soar into a rain filled sky.

The outrider could feel Chrysta shaking against him and he again shifted his hold until the woman was cradled bridal style in his arms.

She looked up at him, her green eyes wild and sparkling.

“HOLY... WOW... Can we do that again?”

His deep laughter rumbled against her,

“I think once is enough for tonight!”

At her disappointed look the outrider gave her a little squeeze.

“There is nothing to say we cannot do it again... some other time.”

Azra landed and gently set her on her feet at the Ironwood's back door. She stepped into him and pressed her warm wet body tight against his. Her strong arms laced behind his back. Azra dropped his wings around her sheltering them from the rain.

“Chrysta...” This was almost a whisper. “Racing the wylde wynd is... NOT... futile. There is always the chance that you will catch it. When you do... it will give you the ride of your life!”

The woman pushed back and looked at him, her beautiful face still and thoughtful. Azra caught her lips with his, he didn't draw blood even though the desire to... TASTE... her was strong. She couldn't afford to lose even a little right now. They were still engaged in a slow, delicious kiss when the door popped open. Azra raised his eyes in time to see a grown man... POOF... up like a broody hen.

“CHRYSTA... What in the HELL are you doing out in the rain?”

Grant pinned Azra with a hard look.

“And YOU... you should know better!”

Chrysta released her hold and backed up smiling sheepishly.

The outrider opened his wings while running a careful talon down her cheek,

“You will think about what I said?”

She flashed him a wicked smile.

“Oh yes, Azra. You can count on it.”

As the outrider raced to catch up to the airship, he smiled wickedly thinking of the evil look that had crossed her face when he said good-bye.

Constantine was totally screwed.

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There is one more chapter left in this tale. If you have enjoyed it...please upvote and share. I am currently working on the second book to this series. Whether or not I post it here will depend totally on how this and my other writing is received. Please... make it worth the many hours, blood, sweat, and tears that I have put into its creation in order to share it with you!

Link to Next and last chapter
https://steemit.com/fiction/@fetherhd/to-race-the-wylde-wynd-final-chapter