Radley's Labyrinth for Horny Monsters
Page 8
He expected her to say something, but no words came. Instead, the Mandragora disappeared into the foliage, taking her song with it.
A week ago, he had fucked to exhaustion. He never thought in his wildest dreams that he could ever be more tired. Today, however, had taught him that there was a new level of exhaustion to achieve. His limbs were cold, almost like his body had lost the ability to circulate blood. The pollen had finally worn off, and he was like a baby, completely weak and helpless.
Leaves rustled behind him. He tilted his head back to see someone step free of the trees around the clearing. As he became suddenly aware of how cold the ground felt beneath him, his consciousness faded away.
Beth sat across from the intern and was frowning at her computer screen. She had come in today fully expecting to be either fired or demoted, but now she was saddled with a young woman that some of the men in the office had trouble keeping their eyes off of.
In a way, Beth wanted to hate her. Hate the idea that her boss thought she was so incompetent that she could no longer work alone, hate the idea that she could potentially be training her replacement. At the same time, however, Lily was extremely useful. Within minutes of returning to her office, the intern had helped her reorganize the Radley file paperwork and, using a MacBook of her own, had gone through the company’s record to streamline all the data.
“You’re really good with computers,” Beth had noted.
“Thanks. The last guy I was with was a whiz with them. I picked up a few of his tricks.” Something about the way Lily had smirked when she’d spoken had told Beth there was more to the story. Maybe someday she would ask.
The Radley file’s main issues stemmed from not only the size of the estate but the way it had been set up to be self-sustaining. Accounts had been put in place to pay the taxes on not just the house but random parcels of land worldwide owned by the estate. Beth was waiting for Mike to fully settle in before she revealed the true enormity of the estate. Emily had been adamant that everything be done by the book and that none of the estate should be pieced out.
And that was where the true challenge of maintaining the Radley estate lay. The Historical Society made the most noise, and even Beth found their desire for the house on the verge of obsession. There were at least three other groups attempting to purchase, recover, or seize property in other locations. A rancher in Oregon kept attempting to acquire a ten-mile section of forest through his lawyer, a bastard of a man who liked to refer to Beth over the phone as “sweetie.” Then there was a patch of land on Hawaii that the natives felt should become theirs once more, since Emily had passed. It wasn’t even usable land, surrounded by miles of forest in the middle of Oahu’s caldera. An island off the coast of Ireland was home to some beautiful castle ruins that a resort wanted to scoop up for themselves, and Beth could hardly blame them. The ocean views from the cliffs were spectacular.
She’d given such care and dedication over the last couple of years to making certain that these assets were rightfully passed on to the proper heir, and somehow she had fucked up and missed a storage unit.
“Here.” Lily set a cup of coffee in front of Beth.
“I still have this one,” Beth said, tapping the lid.
“It’s been cold for over an hour. You deserve something fresh.” Lily winked, scooping up the old cup and disappearing with it. Beth shook her head, rubbing her eyes. No amount of concealer was going to correct the bags beneath them. She took a sip of the coffee that Lily had brought. Cream, no sugar, just the way she liked it. Lily was a mind reader.
The documents in front of her blurred, and she massaged her temples. She vaguely remembered the discovery of the storage unit from last week. Why had it gone unnoticed for so long? Emily had been so thoughtful, and the idea that the storage unit’s fees had gone unpaid when Emily had retained local attorneys for all her other properties seemed highly unlikely.
“Beth?” It was Marco, one of the legal secretaries. “There’s a Sebastien Mueller here to see you.”
“Who?” Beth asked, looking past Marco. A pale blond man with a rather dramatic mustache stood out in the office, leaning on a dark cane. He wore a gray suit with matching loafers.
“He said he’s legal counsel for the Historical Preservation Society. He has some questions for you.”
“Tell him to make an appointment,” she said, but Sebastien Mueller pushed his way past Marco, then planted himself firmly in the seat across from Beth. He crossed one leg over the other, one hand on his cane, the other checking a pocket watch. If Mr. Peanut were a human, she imagined he would look like Sebastien Mueller.
“I understand that you are counsel for the Radley estate?” Sebastien asked, a slight English accent in his voice.
“I don’t take walk-ins,” Beth informed him, crossing her arms. “If you would like to meet with me, you need to make an appointment.”
“I see.” He reached into the breast pocket of his suit. She swore to herself that if he pulled out a monocle, she would smack it out of his hand. Instead, a tin of mints appeared, and he lifted out a couple. “Would you like one?”
“No.” It was a common tactic. If she accepted the mint, she was socially obligated to at least hear him out. Right now, she had other things to deal with.
“I see.” He put the mints back in the tin without taking one for himself. “I will be brief. I believe that there is an issue of some serious legal ramifications. Since you are Mr. Radley’s representative, I formally request that you schedule a meeting between the three of us. There has been some error in how the estate has been handled, and I would prefer to see it resolved as soon as possible.” Sebastien pulled out his pocket watch again. “We could even head over there now, if you like. I would prefer it, actually. I have come a very long way to have this meeting.”
“Absolutely not.” Beth stared daggers at the man, but he ignored her. “First, you need to make an appointment,” she continued. “Then you and I can talk. Afterward, if your case has any merit, I will arrange a meeting with my client and see if he will agree to meet with you.”
Sebastien stared blankly into a corner, pretending that he hadn’t heard her. Beth waited. She had dealt with this before and knew that he was waiting to interrupt her. Determined to outwait him, she resumed working on her computer, typing herself a nonsensical memo.
Five minutes passed. With a slightly disgruntled look on his face, Sebastien stood, pushing himself upward with his cane. “I suppose I will be scheduling an appointment with you on the way out,” he informed her with no lack of disgust in his voice.
“Sounds great,” she said, busy blocking off the next two weeks in her online day planner.
“Farewell.” He moved toward the door, where he collided with Lily, who was walking in with a stack of files.
Lily dropped the papers, putting out a hand to steady Sebastien. “I am so sorry,” she told him, crouching to pick up the files.
“Indeed.” Sebastien got a better grip on his cane, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. Through the window of her office, Beth watched him stop by the front desk to speak with Marco. Sebastien’s pale face reddened when Marco opened up Beth’s schedule, which made her smile.
“What do you have there?” Beth asked, leaving her desk to help Lily.
“Some paperwork from the auction,” Lily informed her. “I think I may have found something, but we will have to go down to the storage place.”
“Really?” Beth looked over the documents. It was an itemized list of what had been in the storage unit. “How did you get this?”
“Flirted with a guy over the phone.” Lily smiled. “Or blackmailed him. Whatever you prefer to hear. Regardless, he’s working at the storage place right now, and he’s willing to let us look through its documents. I can’t say the same for his boss though.”
Beth stared at Lily. Where had this girl come from?
“Sounds good.” Lily left the room, and Beth made a quick stop in the bathroom. She bid Marco farewell and walked out to her car, Lily close on her heels with a fresh cup of coffee for herself. The two of them got into Beth’s car, and Beth put it into gear. Driving out of the parking garage, Beth noticed a Mercedes parked near the exit. Slowing her car down, she saw that Sebastien was behind the wheel, his head tilted to one side.
“What is he doing?” Beth asked.
“Don’t know. Looks like he fell asleep.” Lily sipped her coffee. “Almost looks like he was planning to follow us, doesn’t it?”
Beth looked at Lily. It sounded like the intern knew way more than she was letting on, but Lily was the reason Beth still had a job, so she kept her mouth shut. Pulling onto Main Street, she drove toward the south side of town, leaving the Mercedes behind.
Mike opened his eyes, staring at the hard dirt beneath his face. His whole body ached, the effects of marathon humping a living plant having ravaged him from head to toe. It was a familiar feeling, one that he had hoped never to experience again. Groaning, he tried to move, suddenly aware that the light was quickly fading. What he had promised would be a fast trip had suddenly turned into at least a day, and he knew the others would be worried.
“You’re finally awake.” The voice startled him, but he couldn’t turn his head far enough to see where it had come from. Closing his eyes, he wondered how long he would have to wait until he was inevitably dragged into even more trouble than he needed.
“Um, yeah.” His legs weren’t listening to him. “Uh, I need to get back to my home. My family is waiting for me.”
“You aren’t going anywhere in your condition,” the voice told him. It belonged to a woman, that much he could tell. There shouldn’t be anybody out in the forest, which immediately made him wonder if someone from the society had followed him here. “The Mandragora didn’t just exhaust you—she also took some of your life force.”
“Like my soul?” Mike asked, a queasy feeling in his gut.
“Nothing that serious. Your soul is much like your body right now. Drained to the very edge.” The sweet smell of something cooking tickled Mike’s nostrils. He took a deep whiff. It reminded him of vegetable stock. “That makes sense though. The Mandragora needed all that energy for the task ahead of it.”
“And that would be?” Mike’s fingers clenched, then relaxed. They were the only parts of his body that seemed to listen right now.
“To spread its seed. The part you coupled with used your essence to pollinate the seeds. Now it will wander as deep into the forest as it can go, eventually planting itself into the earth. It will incubate for nearly a century before forming a plant similar to the one that currently rules this section of forest.”
“And make a new Mandragora?”
“Now you’re getting it.” Soft hands tilted his face to the side, and a waterskin was pushed against his lips. “Drink this. It will help.”
Having nothing to lose, Mike took a few swallows. The cool liquid trickled down the back of his throat, warming his belly much as whiskey would. The warmth spread to his limbs, his muscles relaxing.
“Thank you,” he said. He made fists and bent his elbows slightly. “What did I just drink?”
“An extract made of rose petals, wolfsbane, and the scale of a hydra. It helps your body regenerate resources but can be quite addictive.”
“You sound like some sort of witch doctor.”
Several silent seconds passed.
“Shaman, actually,” she said. “There’s a world of difference.”
“I’m sorry,” Mike said, the stiffness in his back receding. “I’m super new at this and have no idea who you are.”
“My name is Zelenia, but you can call me Zel.”
He opened his eyes, and her face came into view. She had tan skin and deep brown eyes that reminded him of the garden. Her hair was braided in several places, and she wore a leathery tunic.
“What are you doing in my greenhouse?” Mike asked. “I thought nothing lived here in the forest.”
“My tribe has known for many years that the last surviving Mandragora plant was kept here,” she told him. “I was brought here once as a child, with my mentor. Emily was the one who told me I was welcome anytime.”
Mike chewed on his lip. With Emily’s passing, the geas shouldn’t have let Zel in without Mike’s permission. “And you just happened to find me?”
“Yes and no. I knew the Mandragora was getting ready to bloom, so I set up camp nearby. It only does so every five hundred years, and I wanted to document it. I heard you making quite the ruckus so arrived in time to watch you mate with the Mandragora. I wrote everything down for future generations to appreciate.” Zel rummaged around in something, then retrieved a small journal. “While you coupled with the plant, I drew a bunch of pictures.”
“That’s…oh!”
Zel held the book open for him, and he was amazed to see a phenomenal sketch of him fucking the Mandragora from behind. The detail was that of a professional artist.
“I was also able to collect quite a bit of its pollen.” The book was removed, and Mike heard the clinking of several jars. “The last time I tried to get some, things didn’t go so well for me.”
“I’ll bet.” Mike felt a small surge of strength in his arms. “I want to roll over.”
“I’ll help you.” Zel kept him steady as he flipped in place, staring up into the fading light of the evening sky. Mike could see her better now—Zel sat demurely beneath a blanket that covered her legs. At her side was a large pack that contained several different vials, and he immediately recognized the glittery substance in one of them.
“What do you plan on doing with the pollen?” he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Don’t know yet. Maybe it could be used to cure impotence or even be a side ingredient in a poultice. I won’t know until I can experiment with it.”
“Count me out,” he said, wincing at the cramp now traveling up his left calf. “This is the second time I’ve been fucked up by the stuff. I don’t ever want to do it again.”
“The second time?” Zel already had her notebook out. “When was the first?”
“Last week. Got in a fight with a witch. She lost.”
“Does that have anything to do with the full pod? I noticed that one of them seemed swollen. Normally, when the Mandragora feeds, it drops morsels of food into those pods, but I’ve never seen one sealed shut before.” Zel scribbled frantically. “It wasn’t a standard digestion either. One morning, I saw that the pod had been absorbed by the main plant, and the colors on the bud had changed.”
“I think it transformed the witch.” Mike reached into his pocket, pulling out the necklace. “The plant was wearing this.”
“Of course. It makes sense. The Mandragora was struggling to survive and couldn’t be bothered to develop a fully mature body for incubation. Therefore, rather than completely digest its food, it used the skeletal structure of its previous prey as a base to build off of.” She was scribbling frantically with her pencil. “Amazing. The plant is already capable of low-level human intelligence, which means, in some respects, the part of the Mandragora that left is both human and plant!”
“Yeah, well…” Mike’s stomach rumbled. “I need to get back home. I’m starving.”
“Nonsense. I made plenty for both of us.” Zel closed her journal, clapping her hands together. “Afterward, I can walk you home!”
“I’m not in much condition for walking,” he informed her. “Last time this happened, it took me forever just to get back to the cliffs, and that was after a full night of sleep. I’m actually wondering if I can talk you into making the trip for me. I know someone who can pick me up.”
“Oh, it reall
y isn’t any trouble, you’ll see!” Zel stood, her blanket falling to one side. Mike’s eyes widened at the powerful legs that emerged from beneath the fabric. Four long, muscular limbs with hooves on the ends. Zel walked over to the fire and leaned over the pot to stir the soup with a stick, her horse tail flicking back and forth contently, before she poured some into a bowl.
“I should have known,” Mike muttered to himself.
The centaur smiled, handing him a bowl of food to eat.
NEW CASTLE
The drive to the storage unit took over an hour. Staring at the seemingly endless fields, Beth couldn’t fathom why Emily would insist on a storage place so far away from civilization, especially when there were several good ones within fifteen minutes of her home.
“Fries,” she said, and Lily, acting as her copilot, held up the small red fry cup like an offering to the gods. Beth grabbed a few, stuffing them in her mouth carefully to avoid smearing her lipstick. They had grabbed a bite to eat at the edge of town on Lily’s insistence. Beth had almost told her no, but the gnawing feeling in her gut had kept her mouth shut.
“Are you sure you don’t want any ketchup? Fry sauce? Anything?” Lily held up an open container.
“Rookie move. You don’t want to drip sauce on your blouse. It makes you look unprofessional, and then people stare at your breasts all day, which can be distracting to everyone involved.”
“I think I would rather pack an extra shirt than go without fry sauce.” Lily stuck a pair of fries in the tub and pulled out a large glob of the pink stuff, sticking her tongue out to catch it before it fell.
“You sound like you damn near worship the stuff,” Beth said, grabbing a few more fries.