Excerpt: Pit Walker

They came in the night. She was asleep in her bed and when they placed the cloth in front of her mouth she barely woke up enough to open her eyes before the drugs knocked her unconscious. They tied her up, bundled her in the back of a van and she woke up terrified, but safe, in a place she didn't know.

Tasha knows this is how stories are meant to go.

She was in the garden, the white rose bush didn't like the soil so she was asking it what it would like, trying to find out how she could help it. She sang to it, poured water from the small can in her hand, sat beside it for hours. Mark came and went, bringing food and more water, but she didn't leave the bush's side.
It was afternoon and she was whispering to the leaves. Someone walked up behind and watched her. Mark, presumably, he was hanging around more and more lately.
She turned to tell him she was fine but it wasn't Mark. She screamed and Mark came and the man was carted away and life went on.

It didn't happen like this either, but it's nice to imagine.

She turned to tell him she was fine, but it wasn't Mark. It was a man in a black jacket. His body was hidden by clothes and he wore a hat which cast his face into shadow but when h reached out a hand she could see flashes of silver metal at his knuckles.
Only one species could imbed iron into their bodies and survive. But what was an Ironer doing in her garden?
More footsteps. She stood up, in front of the bush which was cowering backwards from this man. She wanted to tell the plant that it was okay, that it was going to be alright, but plants could tell when you were lying.
"Hello," she tried guardedly, resisting the urge to raise the watering can like a weapon.
He didn't reply.
"This is private property."
He still didn't speak, but he did step aside to reveal a figure who had been entirely hidden behind his large form. A woman, her blonde hair pulled back tight to her head in a bun. Two horns protruded from her head and the blouse she wore was not so opaque that it completely hid the darker streaks on her arms where her V shaped stripes lay.
She was a Pit Walker. Like Mark, only not so much because Mark was her friend and this woman was trespassing. If she dared step on land owned by another Walker, she must be pretty confident in her power.
Tasha wished she could see the woman's eyes, Mark always said the amount of power is reflected in the eyes, but the woman is wearing dark lenses. "This is private property," she repeated. "What are you doing here?"
The woman smiled a calculating smile. "Looking for you, my dear."
Tasha took half a step back, the branches of the rose moving obediently out of her way. "Why?"
"Why?" she echoed in disbelief. "My dear, do you know how rare you are? Your parents were both pathetic half-breeds but they managed to sire you. A pure-breed. A full dryad."
Another step back. "Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested."
"Not selling, I wouldn't dream of trying to sell to you. No, you see I am a collector and more importantly a scientist. I know so many people who would give their right arms to get hold of a Dryad and I will outdo you all." Her smile grew. "I found you first."
Tasha shook her head firmly, moving back to the centre of the rose and coaxing thorns to grow in front of her. "I'm not interested in joining your collection. You're wasting your time here."
The woman laughed, a cold humourless sound which made Tasha's sap run cold. "Whatever made you think I wanted your consent?" and she drew her dark glasses off her eyes to reveal two glowing orbs of blue.
There wasn't time to panic, Tasha let her arms fall to her sides and changed faster than she ever had in her life. Her hair rose, spreading out into branches, growing leaves. Her arms fused to her torso, her featured faded into bark, her –
The Ironer was there, wrapping his arms around her trunk. Her roots had barely started burrowing down through the earth when they were torn out, the Ironer's strength enough to pull her out of the ground.
She screamed, her mouth tearing open a hole in the barely-formed trunk and collapsed - just a girl again - to the ground.
The Ironer let her fall and stepped back to allow his mistress to see her body. "A girl," the woman mused. "A young girl. I wasn't expecting that." She shook herself and turned away. "Let's get her out of here."

And that's it.