The Afflicted Zodiac Complete Series

by M J Marstens

  It’ll never fit me, but remind me of the gentle giant from my dreams.

  I shake myself out of my reverie and make a mental note to look up my transits later. My Neptune must be making some aspects for me to be this fanciful in my daydreams.

  I run a brush through my not-pale hair.

  Funny how in my dreams, all I wanted was to be me again and now that I’m awake. . . I kind of miss being pink.

  I’ll slit your fucking throat if you ever tell anyone that, got it, Trust Tree Sister?

  I mean, love ya!

  I sit on the banister and try to slide down it and end up falling off and rolling down the stairs to the main floor.

  “Jorge, she’s tried to ride the banister down again,” I hear my mother’s voice call out.

  I stand up in a daze and wonder how fucking hard I hit my head on the way down because I see my father sitting at the dining room table, drinking his coffee, reading the newspaper.

  “I know, Ann, I heard her,” my dad comments, finally looking up at me. “Don’t you think you should wear something a little more professional for your first day, wild thing?”

  Tears fill my eyes at my dad’s familiar pet name.

  He gave it to me when I was four and made him read Where the Wild Things Are every night for a year.

  Oh, and because I am a wild thing.

  “I hate to agree with your dad, Zahra, but ripped jean shorts may not be the thing to wear,” my mom adds, coming into view from the kitchen.

  All I can do is stare at them.

  I pinch myself hard.

  “Ouch! Fuck!” I shout in pain.

  I’m definitely not asleep.

  “Jesus, Zahra, watch your fucking mouth at the breakfast table,” my dad teases.

  My mom starts laughing.

  My dad joins in.

  And I break down and sob like a baby.

  Immediately, my dad shoves away from the table and rushes over to me, but my mom beats him.

  “What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself when you fell? Jorge, call an ambulance!”

  “What? No, I’m fine. What?” I ask again in confusion.

  My mom is running a hand over my head, checking for injuries and my dad is trying to bat her hands away.

  “Give her some space, Ann. She’s just addled her brain. How the damn thing keeps working as much as she does this is beyond me,” my dad comments absently.

  “Gee, thanks, Dad,” I say dryly, finally getting ahold of myself.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” My mom asks me. “Are you having second thoughts about staying here? Your father and I will understand if you don’t.”

  “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about; I’m just so fucking glad you’re not dead,” I say carelessly and throw my arms around my mother’s neck in a hug.

  “Zahra Rosa Delsol, are you on drugs?” My mother demands.

  “It would make sense,” my dad adds.

  I pull back from my mom to glare at my dad and then remember he’s alive and I decide to hug him instead.

  “Dad’s right; I addled my brain. Remind me of everything, please?’

  My mom peers at me with pity and I laugh, so familiar is her look.

  Speaking very slowly, she says, “You have your first day of work today. At the library.”

  “I’m addled, mom, not stupid,” I tell her snarkily.

  “Could’ve fooled me,” my dad jokes.

  Now you all know where I get it from.

  CHAPTER 28

  ZAHRA

  “Start from the beginning,” I command my mother, who shoots a worried look askance to my father.

  When she doesn’t say anything, my dad takes it upon himself to help, “Well, twenty-seven years ago, my sperm fertilized one of your mom’s eggs. I’ve always had strong swimmers-”

  “MOM!” I roar.

  Unfortunately, she’s laughing too hard to get my dad to stop his tale. I should probably be thankful he didn’t describe how his sperm fertilized mom’s egg.

  “Zahra, we’re not quite sure what you’re asking?”

  “I have a job at the library?”

  “Yes,” my mother says again slowly. “Mrs. Gerty is moving to Arizona to take up another job and you’re taking her place. Although, with your degree, I don’t know why you don’t apply at some bigger libraries, like in New York or Chicago.”

  I shudder at her mention of Chicago.

  “No, here is good. And promise me you and dad will never drive to Chicago.”

  My folks give me a blank look.

  It’s a familiar one, too.

  “So Mrs. Gerty is moving to. . . Arizona, you say?”

  “Mm-hm. Zahra. . . you remember about us, right?”

  “What kind of question is that? Of course, I remember you and dad! Hell, I thought you’d died!”

  “She keeps mentioning us dying, Ann, maybe we shouldn’t move? Maybe she’s having anxiety,” my dad whispers to my mom, like I’m deaf.

  “Jorge, that’s ridiculous. Not only has she been gone the last six years for college, but Zahra is the most independent person in the universe.”

  “You’re moving?” I squeak. “Where?”

  “Your father and I retired, remember? We finished our last semester together and our old bones can’t handle these winters anymore. We’re moving to Tucson.”

  “What month is it?” I wonder out loud.

  “It’s almost June,” my mom responds, shooting my dad a pointed ‘she’s more than addled in the brain’ look.

  “TUCSON?!” I suddenly shout, my mom’s words finally sinking in.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Zahra! Yes, Tucson. We told you to join us, but noooooooo, you wanted to stay here. We’re so proud that you’ve graduated and you’re going to live here, but don’t do it if you’re not truly happy,” my mom advises. “Now go change. I’m making you waffles for breakfast.”

  “Twatwaffles?” I ask like the little smartass that I am.

  “I already ate those,” my dad says drolly.

  “Ew, gross. Are you saying mom’s the waffle and you were the syrup?”

  “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” my dad warns and his words hit me like a ton of bricks.

  Kane once told me the same thing.

  “You best get a move on, Zahra. It’s rude to be late on your first day,” my mom reminds.

  “Ann, it’s rude to be late, period.”

  Turning away, I walk back upstairs and change in a daze.

  When I come back down, mom has a stack of waffles with whip cream and butter melting on top. She appraises my teal dress with a critical eye and nods in approval.

  “Better,” is all she says.

  I sit down and eat in a stupor. Before leaving, I reach out and touch both my mom and dad to make sure I’m not making this all up in my head. Their warm flesh tells me how real they truly are. I give them another hug before stumbling outside. How the fuck I even make it to the library is beyond me.

  I stumble through the familiar atrium doors and standing there is freaking Edgar, no horse dick in sight.

  “You did it!” He cheers, rushing to hug me in enthusiasm. “I had some serious doubts there in the end. . . after you, ah, took all of Moon’s powers. You kind of went off the deep end and started yelling about ‘infinite cosmic powers’ and then you just disappeared.”

  “It was real?” I ask incredulously. “I really did make you into a horse’s dick?”

  “Don’t remind me of that, ever,” he orders dryly. “And yes, it was real.”

  “Does that mean. . . they’re alive?”

  I don’t qualify they; Edgar knows who I’m talking about.

  “Of course, Vesta, I mean Mrs. Gerty, is going to be their new secretary. Zahra, what happened?”

  I tell Edgar about my conversation with the Universe, then waking up here, and my parents being alive. He nods his head sagely when I finish.

  “Don’t you see? When you willingly chose to give
up your life for everyone else, even Moon, the Universe gave back to you.”

  “Huh, guess I get to have my cake and eat it, too.”

  “Well, sort of. We’re stuck in human form and are completely powerless again,” Edgar rejoins.

  Ugh, must suck for him to wait twenty-seven years to be a horse again, only to have that taken away. I, on the other hand, barely tasted my powers and it still just feels like a dream.

  “What are you doing here, Edgar?”

  “I’m just here to be. . . a friend. If you need help reacclimating or whatever, I’m here for you. Also, I have the keys from Vesta to give to you for the library.”

  “Don’t ever tell her, but I’m going to miss that old bat,” I tell him conspiratorially.

  He chuckles.

  “I doubt you miss her for long,” he says cryptically. “I’ll swing by later and check in on you.”

  Then he walks out into the atrium without a backward glance.

  Weird.

  I sit down at the desk where Mrs. Gerty used to hide all my books and think of how everything has come full circle. I learn it’s a Saturday and Memorial Day Weekend, so the library is dead. I catalog some new books Mrs. Gerty bought and file some things away and then just sit and ponder.

  Really fucking ponder.

  Finally, I pull up good, ol’ Google.

  Aside from you, my Trust Tree Sisters, Google is the only thing that has never failed me (which is freaking amazing considering all the strange crap I lookup).

  But my search today is very specific:

  Metaphysical specialist.

  A job posting pops up from Miraval Resorts in Tucson, Arizona as the position has never been filled.

  I take a moment before filling everything out and hitting the send button.

  Not twenty minutes later I get an email from a Mrs. Gerty expressing her interest in my application and if I have any references handy. Grinning, I write back that my old librarian might be able to provide one for her.

  Her reply: doubtful, highly doubtful.

  I write another email expressing my interest in moving southwest with my folks and looking for a career that will challenge my knowledge and interest in the metaphysical field. She says that it seems like a good waste of a library sciences degree, but she would be happy to schedule me an interview with her bosses for this coming Thursday at 10:00 am.

  A couple of hours later, Edgar comes back just as I’m closing shop for the day. I tell him my decision, and he grins.

  “Doesn’t surprise me. It was only a matter of when. Luckily, I planned for this and petitioned to take over the library until another candidate can be found.”

  I surprise him by hugging him tightly to me.

  “Thank you, Edgar,” I whisper.

  “Love you, Venus,” he whispers back. “Now and forever.”

  “No,” I smile up at him. “You’ll find your happily ever when you least expect it, and she’ll be way crazier than me.”

  He shudders.

  “Don’t put that kind of evil on me!” He jokes. “I guess this is good-bye, then.”

  “For now,” I concede, before giving him one last hug.

  Then I walk away to my future.

  CHAPTER 29

  ZAHRA

  The drive out to Tucson from Minnesota was long, but I had my Harry Potters on tape, and my parents really appreciated me taking some fragile items out to their condo that they didn’t trust with the shipping people.

  That’s right, they trusted me not to break anything.

  Are you all laughing your asses off, too?

  I decided to take up the resort’s offer to stay with them during my interviewing process. My parents haven’t moved out here yet and their condo is a mess of boxes preparing for their arrival next week. I luxuriate in the king-sized bed and order some room service: the biggest fruit platter they make, sans the grapes.

  Zahra Delsol does not eat grapes.

  Still.

  One day, though, maybe.

  So, today’s the big day.

  I carefully dress in the same teal, Boho dress and mala bead necklace that I wore the first time I interviewed for this position. I wear my hair down, but take great pains to fluff it to make it look extra sexy. I end up just looking like I’d been electrocuted and brush it smoothly back down.

  It’ll have to do.

  The driver is waiting for me to take me downtown and I chit-chat about the absence of the Snowbirds with him. He pulls up in front of the glass buildings and the déjà-vu of this entire scene catches up to me. I pull up short in front of the building’s main entrance and look at my reflection in the mirrored glass, wondering:

  How often do you get second chances in life?

  Not that fucking often.

  “Thank you, Universe!” I shout out, startling a guy walking by.

  Grinning like a loon, I walk into the building and wave off the receptionist.

  I know exactly where I’m going.

  And that’s up.

  Because you gotta go up to come down.

  (That was a terrible blow job pun, but laugh anyway. Thanks, Trust Tree Sisters. You know I ramble and say stupider shit when I’m nervous.)

  Once I reach the top floor, the familiar settings of the half-moon desk, the sparse sitting area, and the heavy wooden doors from Hell greet me. Except there’s no Mary. I still can’t believe sweet Mary was Moon all along. . . her comments about being a part of the office (not The Office) finally make sense. Is it ironic that Vesta would take her place?

  “Deep thoughts, Venus?” Mrs. Gerty queries, standing up from under the desk.

  I hadn’t even seen her.

  “What were you doing under the desk? Is a certain Element there and you were watering his knob with your mouth?”

  “Zahra Rosa Delsol!” she shouts and I giggle.

  It’s too easy.

  “I was just thinking of Mary being Moon,” I tell her.

  She sighs.

  “I know. The Majors are still reeling over that. They’ve been waiting for you, too.”

  “I’m sorry she stabbed you. . . I’m glad you’re ok. I was afraid that since Lina hadn’t ingested your essence, you wouldn’t be remade.”

  “That is curious. I’m not quite sure what happened. I was hoping you could tell me, but it will have to wait. I’m needed by the incompetent morons on the twelfth floor who dare to call themselves managers.”

  I laugh at her outrage.

  I love Vesta, but I freaking adore her in Mrs. Gerty form.

  She marches off to the stairs and leaves.

  I rush over to the desk and look under it to see if a human Elemental is hiding, but no one’s there.

  Guess Mrs. Gerty wasn’t getting up to get down.

  I turn towards the doors that lead to the presidential suite and walk to them, but then stop.

  I do a three-sixty turn and go into the bathroom instead.

  Smiling at my reflection, I reach down and toy with my clit.

  I think about my guys waiting for me on the other side of the door and push two fingers inside of me, already dripping wet with anticipation. It takes no time at all to work myself into a frenzied orgasm and I gasp out loud as I come. Not satisfied, I pull out my resume and wipe my spectacular scent all over it. Finally, I bypass washing my hands and simply lick my fingers clean.

  Fucking perfect.

  I wink at my reflection.

  Now I’m ready.

  CHAPTER 30

  ZAHRA

  I pull open the heavy right door and slip inside. Immediately, my eyes clash with sixteen others. For a moment, time freezes, and we simply stare at one another. Of course, this is much easier for them because they have one focal point: me.

  I’m such a lucky lady.

  I, on the other hand, bounce between the familiar gray eyes of the twins, the emerald green of Arawn’s, and the varied brown shades of Mio’s, Khal’s, Kane’s, and Nyam’s eyes. Their gazes give nothing away and it ta
kes all my discipline not to run across the room and throw myself in Kane’s arms.

  And Nyam’s.

  And everyone else’s.

  Khal clears his throat and breaks the spell.

  “You’re late, Ms. Delsol,” he says condescendingly.

  “And you’re still a dick, Mr. Al-Zahil,” I reply breezily.

  I expect his anger, but get his laughter instead and it spurs me into action.

  I walk until I’m next to Kane and the lime green divan Caed is sprawled on. Before I go any further, I reach out a hand to touch Kane’s shoulder. Resting it there, I give him a small squeeze. He surprises me by turning his head and placing a tender kiss against the back of my hand.

  I almost break down like a baby for the second time this day.

  Somehow, I maintain my composure and produce my specially perfumed resume and hand it to Khal with a flourish. I expect some reaction but get nothing, and I pout with disappointment.

  “Why are you sulking?” he demands.

  “I’m not sulking,” I say derisively, even though I’m doing just that.

  “I’m waiting, Ms. Delsol.”

  A flutter of excitement flickers inside my stomach at his tone.

  “I used a special perfume. I thought you might like it. Smell the paper,” I instruct.

  Khal hesitates before he takes a sniff. At first, he doesn’t react, but he keeps sniffing it over and over until finally, a gleam enters his eyes. Standing abruptly, tipping his chair over, he briskly walks around his desk to pull my right hand under his nose. He takes a deep inhale.

  “You fucking tease,” he purrs and I grin.

  “How come it took you so long to figure it out?” I ask.

  “Go let the others smell your fingers,” Khal orders, not answering me.

  “No,” I say in embarrassment, even though I wiped my feminine cum all over myself and a piece of paper.

  “We’re waiting,” the twins chime in unison, mimicking Khal.

  Huffing, I walk over to them, but instead of sniffing my fingers, Uran pulls me into his lap and Illu starts licking my digits sensuously.

  “Is this how you guys conduct all your interviews?” I inquire, trying to tamp down my erotic response to these incredibly sexy men.