O-Men: Liege's Legion - Merc

by Elaine Levine

“You’ll have to let me know how it compares to fresh coffee-plantation brews.”

  Coffee. Jungles. Valle de Lágrimas.

  Merc.

  “Ash—I wanted to apologize.”

  “For what?”

  “I feel that you’re in distress, and I haven’t made it easy for you to talk about Colombia. Merc. Any of it. Summer and I are worried about you.”

  “It’s not your fault, Kiera. I don’t know what to say. Really, there’s nothing to talk about. I’ve just taken on a double load at work, so my mind is a little preoccupied.”

  “Maybe you should tell Sam about what happened.”

  “About Colombia?” Ash shook her head. “I can’t. I went rogue. Valle de Lágrimas wasn’t on his itinerary for my trip. We talked about it before I left, and I told him I wouldn’t go there.”

  “Since when have you ever stuck with someone else’s plan for you?”

  Ash didn’t answer, but couldn’t ignore Kiera’s long, searching look. She sighed. Damn Kiera, anyway. “I can’t get Merc out of my mind.”

  Her friend nodded. “I still think you were given some psychoactive chemicals, leaving you more in touch with your true desires. Maybe your preoccupation with him is you talking to you about what you actually want. Especially since Summer found Sam.”

  Ash stared into Kiera’s beautiful brown eyes. “Maybe. That makes about as much sense as anything.”

  “Anyway, that’s it. I just wanted you to know Summer and I are here for you. Talk to her, to me, but reach out if you need us.”

  Ash woke early a few days later. Her attempts to lose herself in the stacks of extra work at the office hadn’t had the desired effect. She wasn’t so worn out she’d have a deep, dreamless sleep. It just worsened her stress and made the nightmares stronger.

  Last night’s dreams of Merc in trouble in Valle de Lágrimas were the worst she’d yet had. Things were escalating. She’d gotten up at three a.m. and stayed up so that she wouldn’t risk falling back asleep and seeing him in more pain.

  At seven-thirty a.m., she called Summer. “Sum—I need you to do something for me.”

  “Anything. What’s up, Ash? You don’t usually call before work.”

  Ash fought tears. Her only relationship with Merc had ended the day it started. He didn’t want to talk to her on a good day—he certainly wasn’t going to want to chat with a hysterical her.

  “Can you take your phone over to Merc? I don’t have his number. I need to talk to him.”

  The pause made Ash worried Summer was going to say no.

  “He’s not here.”

  “Where is he?” Again that pause. “Summer—I need to know. I need to talk to him.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve been having nightmares about him. Something’s not right.”

  “I’ll talk to Sam. Better yet, you come out and talk to Sam.”

  “Merc’s in Valle de Lágrimas again, isn’t he?”

  “Honestly, Ash, I don’t know for sure. I will ask.”

  “Never mind.” Ash hung up. She did a quick change into a slouchy sweater and jeans, brushed her teeth, threw her unbrushed hair in a clip, and left for the office.

  How long was she going to do this? How long was she going to keep pretending everything was normal when it wasn’t?

  At work, she managed to get to her office before anyone stopped to talk to her. She shut the door and slumped into her seat, staring blankly at the computer and stacks of paper. She had hours of work to do before noon, but none of it seemed to be of any importance, not with Merc in trouble.

  She braced her arms on the desk and cradled her head. He was a fucking saint. If he couldn’t deal with whatever it was he had going on, what the hell did she think she was going to be able to do?

  Maybe she should go to Sam, tell him about the dreams she’d been having. He could probably figure out a way to help Merc.

  Then again, who would ever take action when the intel she had came from dreams? Damn, she was sounding crazier and crazier.

  She was still fighting with herself when her boss knocked on her door and popped his head in. One look at her and he stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind him.

  “Um—Ash? You okay?”

  Ash sniffled and shook her head. “I’ve gotten some bad news about a friend.”

  “That’s awful. Why are you still here? Go see her.”

  Her. Her boss assumed her friend was female. Naturally. Ash never talked about her dates with her work friends. “I can’t. I just took on the extra accounts—“

  “You have leave. This is what it’s for. Use it. Get out of here.”

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

  “Use your leave, then check in to let me know your status. Don’t worry about work. It will all be here when you get back.”

  Ash drew a shaky breath, then nodded. “Okay.”

  Her boss nodded at her, giving her a firm look. “Okay.”

  When he left, she did the minimal steps she had to in order to leave the accounts open for him to take over. Then she grabbed her purse, shut off her lights, and left.

  She wondered if she’d ever be back.

  The earliest flight Ash could catch to Medellín was a redeye that left late that night. With the boom in tourism that the village miracles had spawned, there were dozens of short-term rentals listed on several vacation sites. Unfortunately, all of them were booked. The closest place she could stay was Medellín, which wasn’t good enough. She’d rent a Jeep and sleep in it if she had to.

  Every once in a while, a twinge of sanity slipped through her manic need to get back to Valle de Lágrimas. Her mind spun through all she was leaving—her home, job, car, friends, life…all for what? A man she surely could not help. And if he needed help, then Sam and his friends should be the ones doing it—they were far more capable than she, and they should know what he was up against.

  As soon as that flash of lucidity speared her mind, it was gone.

  Right or wrong, foolish though it may be, she was driven to see this through. She’d connected with Merc on an emotional level. Maybe what he was going through wasn’t a professional issue that his friends could help with, but a personal one, something she could support him through.

  If he let her.

  Did his friends know the truth of what had happened to him in that death trench? She wasn’t an expert in emotional or psychological issues. What if she got there and found she couldn’t help him after all?

  It didn’t matter. She was doing this. She would do the best she could.

  A text from Summer popped up on Ash’s phone as she was about to board the last flight that would take her from Miami to Medellín.

  Where are you? I’ve been calling, Summer wrote.

  Sorry. Had my phone off. Ash didn’t tell her more than that.

  Can we meet for lunch? Kiera’s got a couple hours free.

  No can do. I’m about to board a flight to Medellín.

  What? Why?

  Because it’s something I have to do.

  But why? Because I told you Merc was back in Colombia?

  It’s just something I feel compelled to do.

  Compelled? Ash—stop. Come back home. You have to resist that compulsion.

  I can’t. I can’t explain it. I have to do this.

  You have no idea what you’re up against. Please, believe me. Please come back.

  I have to go. Love you. Tell Kiera I love her too.

  Ash turned her phone off. Summer wanted her to ignore her every instinct and just turn around and go home.

  It would be easier to stop breathing.

  When she disembarked from the plane, she followed her fellow passengers to customs, then exited the airport. It was morning again—the longest forty-eight-hour day she’d had since her last trip.

  A man came toward her, tall, wavy black hair. She knew him—he was guy she’d met at the fort. Lautaro. Sam’s friend.

  Ash shook her head and turned away
from him before he could greet her. “You’re not talking me out of this.”

  Lautaro fell in step with her. “Of course not. One can never fight compulsions.”

  Ash stopped and gaped at him. “Summer told you.”

  He gave her a little smile. “Actually, it came from Sam.”

  “I’m going to Valle de Lágrimas.”

  “Yes, you are. And I’m going to drive you out there.”

  Ash narrowed her eyes as she studied his face.

  He laughed as if her glare tickled. “All is well. Merc is fine. And you will be safe.”

  For the first time since her last round of nightmares, Ash pulled an easy breath. If Merc was fine, why had she felt compelled to rush out to him?

  “That is an interesting question—one we would all like the answer to.”

  Wait—had she said that out loud? She sighed again and looked away. She was exhausted, stressed, and confused, for sure. She needed to get her head straight.

  Lautaro took her arm and guided her over to the parking lot where he’d left his Land Rover. He opened the passenger-side door.

  Ash hesitated before getting in. “Wait. I wasn’t able to reserve a room. I called everywhere. There were none available. I think I need to—“

  “It is taken care of. I secured the room you used last time you were here.”

  “Oh.”

  “May I see your phone?” He held his hand out. When she gave it to him, he entered his contact info. “When you’re ready to go home, call me. I’ll come get you.”

  “Thank you.” Ash got in his car and looked out the window. Why were they helping her?

  “Sam loves Summer. Summer loves you.” Lautaro looked over at her. “We take care of our own.”

  What did that mean? There seemed nothing suggestive in his tone. Wait. He’d once again answered a question she hadn’t yet spoken.

  He grinned and turned his attention to the road.

  “I know this sounds like a bad question to ask at this point, but is Merc in Valle de Lágrimas?”

  “That is his base of operations.”

  Geez. What did that mean? Ash didn’t ask. She didn’t really want to know.

  “Why are you here, Ashlyn?”

  Ash folded herself in her seat, knees up, arms crossed over her shins. She leaned a little sideways as she looked at Sam’s friend. He seemed one of those guys you could just tell anything to. “For some reason I can’t explain, I’ve been panicked about Merc. I know he has no interest in me. I’m not a stalker. I just wanted to…set eyes on him again. And I want to try to understand what happened here. It’s haunted me ever since my first visit. Nothing’s been the same.”

  “As far as Merc goes, he’s fine.”

  “He wasn’t fine—before.”

  Lautaro looked at her, as if assessing what she knew. “He has had a hard time of things.”

  Ash watched the world go past the car. “Miracles aren’t real.”

  “Are you declaring that or asking?”

  “Both. What I thought happened here didn’t. It couldn’t have. It was a setup.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Aren’t you? There has to be a logical explanation.”

  “There are a great many mysteries in the world that seem to have no scientific foundation.”

  “But they all do.”

  “If you could know the science behind all of life’s mysteries, thereby taking the awe and magic out of them, would you?”

  “Yes. They’re still awesome and magical; it’s just comforting to know they’re logical as well. It’s why I travel. I want to learn and understand. It’s why I couldn’t just leave this behind me—I have to know how it was done.”

  “And what if the answer you’re seeking is terrible?”

  “It is terrible. Three men were forced to sit in chairs until they died. Or three cadavers were somehow affixed to the chairs. Dozens of people lay down in a dirt trench to wait for their death—in the middle of a jungle, with all its terrifying predators. And there’s more. What about that time that Merc was surrounded by the guys he was fighting? The townspeople said he had a force field around him, that he danced and laughed as they unloaded guns on him.”

  Lautaro grinned. “Is that what they told you?”

  “Yes. It is. And it isn’t possible. I’ve come back because I need to know.”

  “Hmm. What is that English saying? ‘Be careful what you wish for’?”

  Ash huffed a sigh. “I have a week to figure this out.”

  “Then I hope you get the answers you need—but only to the threshold of your tolerance for them.”

  More cryptic commentary. Was everyone she knew in on the charade here?

  17

  The skies that had been dark when she left the airport now rumbled with thunder. The downpour started as soon as they stopped outside the same room she’d rented with her vlogger friends.

  Lautaro gave her the key. “You have my contact info. Call me when you want to head out.”

  “Do I have it for the week?”

  “You have it as long as you want it.”

  “What do I owe you?”

  “Take it up with Sam when you get back.”

  Ash shook her head. Strange how easy some things could be. “Well, thanks for the ride. Sorry to take you out of your way.”

  “Not a problem. Let me know if you need anything.” He looked out of his window over to the little flat. Seemed something caught his eye. He grinned. She couldn’t tell what it was, but his humor lit him up.

  She hopped out of his car and ran to the door, key at the ready in the torrential downpour. The door wasn’t locked and must not have been closed all the way, for as soon as she touched it, it opened.

  Ash set her things down on the floor next to the old double bed. The little room had only two windows—one next to the front door and one in the kitchenette. At the moment, the room was dark as the storm raged.

  Ash used the bathroom, then lingered at the sink as she washed her hands. The water was as warm as the room, but the sound of it running was soothing. She checked herself over with a critical eye. The madness in her mind showed on her face. There were lines that she didn’t remember being there bracketing her lips. A darkness colored half-circles beneath her eyes. Her eyes were filled with the hypervigilance of a refugee. She closed them and focused her attention on the sound and feel of the tepid water running over her fingers before it spilled down the drain.

  She’d made it back to the village. She’d get to the bottom of this. She had a week to figure out what had happened here. She could do that, and then put the village—and Merc—behind her. And when she got home, she’d settle back into her old routine, really buckle down and focus, live the boring, mundane life that would fuel her next adventure.

  She opened her eyes again, this time not looking at herself but at the old mirror itself. The metallic backing had chipped off in several places, leaving patchy blotches in the reflection. The mahogany frame with its heavily carved tropical flowers was broken in places, splitting in others. As she examined the mirror, she caught a movement behind her.

  Very little light from the front window reached the back corner of her guest flat on a sunny day; none at all reached it now. The bathroom light was on, but it just made the room behind her even darker. She stepped to the right, giving herself a wider area of the mirror to look into.

  There was a movement. She hadn’t imagined it. She froze, then realized she was unable to turn, even if she’d wanted to—she was stuck in place. All she could do was watch the murky light coalesce into a tall figure. A man slowly emerged from shadows that now seemed three-dimensional. He looked pale in contrast to the dark cocooning him. She couldn’t see much of him with any clarity, just his throat and chin. But then his eyes began that unholy glow she’d seen once before.

  Merc.

  How had he gotten in to her apartment? She’d locked the door.

  “You,” she said as he came inexorably cl
oser. Still unable to move, she could only watch him approach. He braced his elbows on either side of the narrow doorjamb and caught the upper jamb in his hands.

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  He closed his eyes, covering that golden glow, as he drew a deep breath. When he looked again, his eyes were normal. “Why are you here?” he asked.

  Ash clamped her jaw shut. She couldn’t tell him the truth. She didn’t even know what the truth was.

  As he waited, their eyes locked together in the mirror. That golden glow returned. How did he do that? Some weird costume product? At first, she’d thought it might have been a reflection on his contacts, but she’d never seen contacts behave that way. Did he even have contacts?

  It creeped her out. She didn’t know what he was going to do next. The power was his, but the tingles were hers.

  His nostrils flared, as if he was breathing her in.

  Was he dangerous?

  “Yes.” His voice was quiet and rough.

  Ash took several breaths to calm herself when she realized she was breathing too fast. She still couldn’t turn around. It was like dream paralysis—she was awake and aware, but unable to move.

  “Yes to what?” she asked.

  “To all of it.”

  She closed her eyes, fearing what would come next. The hairs on her neck and all down her arms lifted, as if he’d moved closer, standing so near her that her body reacted to his energy. She felt him bend close to her shoulder, zinging her skin with that electrical thrill as he dragged his face along the line of her shoulder to her neck.

  She realized suddenly that she could move once again. She spun around, but he was gone. Had he ever been there?

  Had she conjured him in yet another fantasy?

  She stepped out of the bathroom and into the main portion of her room. There he was, bent over, looking in her fridge. He must have heard her, for he straightened, looking shocked. “Hey. How’d you get in my room?”

  Ash frowned. “What are you talking about? I rented this for the week.” She looked back at the bathroom, then at him. Maybe none of that had happened. Of course it hadn’t happened. Who had glowing eyes, anyway? This was some game he was playing to take the room from her. She folded her arms. “I was here first.”