A Thousand Shades Of Black

Chapter 15 – Gate Keeping

Alia stumbled forwards, exhaustion weighting her limbs and Riddick caught her and supported her as she shifted the last threads into their proper position and closed the gate. There was no sound but she could almost feel the energy that had been creeping into this world snap out of existence again. It was a heady sensation, moving so much energy, ruthlessly controlling such power. Except that now she wanted to sleep for a week and the only thing keeping her on her feet was Riddick’s arm around her waist.

“The next gate is over by Sharon’s Glenn,” Shirah told her calmly. “It’s a day’s trip and then we can reseal that one as well.” Alia groaned inaudibly and Riddick’s arm tightened, picking up on her dismay.

“She needs to rest, Shirah,” Riddick’s growl sounded as tired as she was and Alia felt a pang of unease that she had been drawing so heavily on his strength. Riddick’s fierce denial both warmed and humbled her. He never seemed to tire.

“You both do, I know.” White hair, bound up in braids today, that rich golden skin lined and creased with age, yet still Shirah looked fresh and energized, while the much younger Alia and Riddick felt worn and tired. It wasn’t fair. “I wish I could give you that rest,” she continued. “There are fifty gates on Furya, we have sealed only three and it has taken far too long.” Alia wanted to cry. The very thought of forty-seven more of these was overwhelming. She had fought tooth and nail to close those three and was stressed nearly to the breaking point already. She would never manage this task.

“Very well,” was what came out of her mouth and she simply gritted her teeth. It had to be done and that was all there was to it. Her fear that the task might kill her, she buried very deeply away from her bond with Riddick. She would do whatever was necessary to stay alive, she was a survivor, but her mate, the pack, Furya itself, these things were worth dying for as well. She only hoped that if it came to that, he would agree with her.

Vaako leaned back against a tree and watched Jeran. The young man was trailing after Kyra with a completely understandable look on his face. Vaako appreciated the kid’s good taste even as jealousy surged in his heart. Kyra bestowed a smile on Jeran and Vaako sighed.
Looking at them it wasn’t hard to see. Kyra and Jeran were of an age, she was lovely, he was handsome, and he moved with the same animal grace that she did. They were like mirror images, both lithe and deadly. Vaako was only eight years older than she was, but at nineteen that was a huge gap. The ex-Necromonger was also serious, driven and intense. Kyra had her own demons, but she cloaked it all in bantering and the posturing coolness of the young.

Vaako suspected that he could take the other man, but it would serve no purpose. If Kyra wanted Jeran, then that was that. Vaako turned and stepped away from the little scene, feeling rather depressed. He wished that he had someone to talk to.

Riddick watched the whole little drama playing out with a quirked smile. People always had to make things far more complex than they needed to be. You saw what you wanted, you reached for it and if you could get it, you took it. How hard was that really? Alia’s amused agreement echoed his thoughts and he decided that there was something he wanted right now. She indicated that she could be found down by the river and with a feral grin, Riddick went to go take what he wanted.


Kyra watched Jeran with some wariness. She liked him, she did, he was handsome and deadly, her favorite combination, but there was something soft in his eyes that concerned her. For a Furyan he seemed rather weak. Of course, Kyra had known only Riddick and Sturm before and she had found that they were somewhat atypical of Furyans, certainly they were more intrinsically dangerous than the others she had met.

“You take good care of your knives,” Jeran was saying, making idle conversation as only a Furyan could.

“Riddick taught me how to make a shiv and fight with it, but Sturm taught me how to use one against someone far bigger than myself.” Kyra watched Jeran nodding at her words with a smile on her face. He was so very earnest, what was it about the men around her? Vaako was so damn serious as well. Why was she thinking about him? Kyra drew herself up short. She had been mentally comparing the two men and it made her wonder. What did she think of them both anyway?

“Sturm is tall, but slender for a warrior, she must be very good with leverage to be so accomplished a fighter.” There was an admiring tone in Jeran’s voice and Kyra grinned again. Furyan males seemed to be very taken with the Void Walker. This was a great planet to be a hard assed bitch on; the men here loved strong women.

“How would you know? You’ve never seen her fight.” The cold contemptuous words dropped into the conversation like ice cubes into coffee, driving away all the warmth.

“Alpha.” Kyra greeted Faille politely despite her intense dislike of the man. How the silver eyes on Riddick could be downright beautiful, but on Faille could be so flat and ugly, she didn’t know.

“Necro.” Faille lashed her with his words and beside her Jeran began to growl. Kyra went still inside, just as Alia had taught her and waited for the big man’s next move. “Why are you sniffing about Jeran? There are few enough Furyan males to satisfy our women as it is.”

“I’m not a Necromonger.” Kyra chose to answer the first insult rather than the comment about Jeran. She wasn’t sure what there was between them at this point and she certainly wasn’t going to discuss it with Faille anyway.

“Human then, if you prefer.” Faille was stalking around her, his nostrils wide as he breathed in her scent. There was a predatory air to him that was raising the hairs on her neck. “Whatever you are, you are not Furyan. You have no right to be called a ‘Beta’ and you have no right to be given pack status of any kind.”

“Take it up with Riddick,” she shot back, starting to get very nervous.

“I just told you, you have no pack status. You are just meat, Necro.” Faille growled low and lunged at her. Kyra was shocked at his speed, she barely twisted away from his blade in time. Jeran’s howl of rage diverted her attention briefly and she could feel Faille’s knife slipping along her skin as she dodged frantically.

Jeran launched himself at Faille and was tossed aside with contemptuous ease. Kyra with her hand wrapped tight around her own shiv, waited for Faille’s next move. When he came at her again, she side-stepped nimbly and drew her blade along his arm, then pivoted and ducked as his other arm came around in a backhanded blow that would have snapped her neck if it had connected.

Vaako heard the sound of Jeran shouting and he was running back to the glade before his mind had really caught up to his body.
He raced forward, eyes noting that Jeran was down in a crumpled heap, that Kyra was bleeding freely from a wound in her side and that Faille looked murderously enraged. There was no conscious decision on Vaako’s part, he simply moved, bringing his blade up to parry the blow that was aimed at Kyra. He struck out with his other fist and jabbed at the bigger man’s kidneys.

Vaako never stopped moving, he surged forward, punching and stabbing and then retreated, dancing outside of Faille’s reach. Had Vaako known Earth History, he might have made the analogy of bullfighting, tormenting and tiring the larger opponent and worrying him with multiple wounds.

The fight was nearly silent, no words were exchanged and only the harsh panting of their breathing and the grunts from blows being exchanged disturbed the quiet of the forest. Kyra pulled herself upright, hand clutched to her side and her eyes dark with fury. She moved up and Vaako could spare no words of warning for her as she joined him in his deadly dance.

Vaako knew that he was no match for the other man. Even months of sparring with Riddick could not prepare him to face an enraged Alpha Furyan. Riddick had always held back, being careful not to kill him, but Faille had no such qualms.

Faille moved almost too fast to see, let alone respond to and Vaako was hard-pressed, panting from the effort of keeping ahead of the other man. Kyra danced out of reach of a lighting-fast strike and Vaako was amazed by her speed and agility.

“Faille.” One word, delivered in a low growl, stopped the fight cold as Riddick and Sturm stepped out of the trees. Riddick was glaring at Faille with a deadly anger that chilled Vaako and made him glad to not be the recipient of that lethal emotion. Sturm was inhumanly still, her face as impassive as stone.

“They are not pack, the rules do not apply to them.” Faille defended his actions and Vaako could see the prickle of sweat on his skin, as he realized what he had brought down on himself.

“They are my pack.” Riddick informed him with menace dripping from every syllable. Kyra staggered as her side wound finally got her attention and Vaako caught her and swung her up into his arms without a thought. He stepped back from the looming confrontation between Alphas, his attention now entirely on Kyra and her injury.

Riddick watched Vaako tenderly carrying Kyra back to the camp and their medical supplies and returned his attention to the other Alpha. He had taken Faille by surprise before, when he had gotten that chokehold on him. He wasn’t sure he could do the same again. In the back of his mind, he could feel Alia, giving him strength and feeding him from her own iron will.

Faille moved first, the sign of someone unsure of themselves and Riddick contented himself with reacting. He slipped around Faille, watching him move, getting a feel for his speed, his reach and his level of skill. It was an amateur’s mistake to rush in and start pummeling, experience brought caution and care. Faille’s long knife was similar to Alia’s blade and Riddick had sparred with her enough to have a healthy respect for the length and sharpness of it.

Faille darted forward, trying to press Riddick and he slipped away from the other man again, watching for the one moment of weakness, the hesitation that would signal Riddick’s opportunity had arrived.

Faille slashed out with the blade, perilously close to flailing about wildly, and Riddick knew he had him unnerved. Alia stood silently watching them both and he knew that she was prepared to come to his rescue, should he require help. Not that he would.

Again Faille tried to cut at Riddick, his arm reaching too far and his balance precarious. Riddick timed it as he dodged, knowing now the pattern of thrust and parry that Faille was most comfortable with.

Now it was time. Riddick began weaving, knife flicking out at seemingly random moments, aiming to unbalance the other Alpha, rather than injure him. He darted in and out forcing the other fighter to adapt, pulling him out of his rhythm and confusing him with quick movements and feints. Having to respond to them all, Faille was quickly tiring.

Silver eyes matte from exhaustion, Faille made his fatal error. He pivoted away from one of Riddick’s knives only to leave his chest uncovered for the second, hidden shiv. Riddick drove the white bone dagger into Faille’s side, feeling the hot flow of blood slicking across his fingers. Riddick leapt back out of range as Faille, with a last desperate effort, sought to impale him on the long blade and he watched as the big man crumpled to the ground.

He wiped his hand on the grass and became aware of his audience. The campsite must be empty, because a circle of Furyans, three deep, ringed the clearing. They stood, silent and still, like carved wooden icons. Then it was as if a breeze moved through them and they as one tilted their heads back, showing their throats to him.

They were all now Riddick pack.

Kyra felt a burning in her side and opened her eyes to Vaako’s calm competent face as he bent over her working on her wound. She had a moment’s confusion and then she tried to struggle upright.

“Riddick!” She glared at Vaako. “You left him alone!” To her amazement Vaako laughed.

“Alone? I left him with Sturm.” Rationality returned and Kyra relaxed again. Sturm would no more allow harm to come to Riddick than Kyra herself would and she was far better at dealing death as well. In Kyra’s favorite game, Riddick and Sturm still beat her out. They really were the better killers.

“Sorry,” she mumbled but he waved her words away and continued tending her wound. Spray sealant closed the skin and a hypo filled with painkillers cut the burning sensation off entirely.

“The medic-unit recommends that you stay on light duty until this is completely healed in three to five days.” He read the curving script with a frown off of the small hand reader. “Not that I expect that you will pay any attention to that,” he added with a sardonic twist of his lips.
“Unlikely, isn’t it?” she teased and he simply shrugged.

“You will do what you have always done, Kyra, whatever the fuck you want to.” She was stunned by his words, there was a sharpness to them that she hadn’t expected from Vaako. He was the Necromonger Commander again in that moment and she felt a flash of totally inappropriate attraction. What was wrong with her? She only liked men who were mean to her? That was fucked up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her confusion spurred her anger and she snapped back at him.

“That your will often overrides your common sense. You can’t seem to take your own survival seriously.” He was chiding her and it was making her hot, which was so wrong on so many levels. Masking her confusion with irritation she snorted and waved him away. He got up and left and she slumped back on her cot to try to clear her head.

“Hey!” she called after him. He turned, dark eyes fierce, and gave her a cool look in return. “Thanks for saving my ass.” He nodded, but his expression didn’t change and it occurred to her that he was really upset. Maybe just as she was, he was using anger to try to protect himself from the complicated tangle of emotions that was rising between them. He left the tent and she lay back down to consider that piece of information.

Sturm watched the Furyans showing throat to Riddick and sighed. Damn, more dependants. If they went on at this rate, the Necromonger army was going to seem minor and they couldn’t shove this lot across the Threshold and shut the door behind them as they had with the last group.

She felt the tingling a moment before she heard the sound. Spinning on her heel she called a warning to the assembled Furyans as the blast of energy rushed past her to explode a tree to fragments.

“Gate breach!” she screamed and dove away from another blast. The Furyans scattered to find cover in the trees and shrubbery, weapons blooming like flowers from every hand.

Armored troopers of a type Alia had never seen before came bursting from the trees. In heavy black armor and carrying some kind of pulse rifle, they sprayed the clearing and Alia cursed under her breath as she attacked.

“First monkeys and now these assholes. Can’t something nice come out of these dammed gates?” Riddick growled.

“I’ll order teddy bears for the next wave, how’s that,” she retorted and then they were entirely consumed by the fight.