by Amy Sumida
“I told you!” Cerberus laughed harder as I continued to pour my lyrical rage over the mercenaries. “She's worth every penny.”
The chorus came, giving me what I needed to manifest fire. I angled my hand flat, bringing it down like a blade with every sharp word. Each slice brought a line of flames surging up around the faltering army, causing many of them to shriek in terror and stumble back into their companions. The hand motions were more for me than the magic, like a conductor directing his symphony. This symphony didn't need me to conduct it. All the magic required was for me to picture the result I desired, and sing. That was it. So I let my arms fall limply to my sides as I screamed the cataclysmic conclusion to the chorus, and my fiery prison penned the blooders in. The ring closed, and the magic surged through me, responding to the triumph I felt.
“Oh my god, I think I'm in love,” I heard one of the blooders behind me groan.
“Of course you are,” Cerberus called back to him. “For fuck's sake, I'm rock hard right now.”
The blooder who had watched my approach more carefully than the others rushed forward. He snaked through the terrified mass, but he wasn't trying to calm them; he was simply trying to reach me. I was obviously his biggest threat, and he was obviously a take-action sort of guy. It had to be Lincoln, coming to kill me before I could slaughter his entire army. It was a smart move, probably the best option available to him. Cut the head off and all that.
Too bad it was useless.
The song turned truly tragic, as if sensing my need. I looked right at Lincoln, directing the destruction at him alone. The merc leader flared up like a torch, blooders pulling back from him in horror. But the bonfire didn't last long. It burned so hot, so intensely, that it turned Lincoln into cinders within seconds. He exploded into sooty snowflakes, swirling down over his army. Blooders cringed away from the remains, hardened soldiers turning into bawling babies.
The song surged on, and I spread my arms out in welcome to it. It was a confession now. A baring of what I had been born. A show of the hand that life had dealt me, and what I had done with it. What I had become. A creature of nightmares. A sorceress of songs. The villain no one could escape. The lyrics couldn't be more perfect for me. It was a declaration of pride in my own monstrosity, and a deep, secret fear of it. I let them see me.
And that's when the real screaming started.
It went on for another two songs, during which I killed every mercenary there in various lyrical ways. The blooders behind me were cheering, some of them singing along with me, and some even mimicked the motions I made. I had blooder backup dancers. Maybe we could take this act to Vegas. A song, a dance, and some magic. We were perfect for Sin City.
By the time I ended the third song, I was trembling, on the verge of passing out. But it was okay; the threat had been eliminated. My fire-oriented playlist had kept the heat up, ensuring that no one escaped, and those within the ring were dead or dying. I let the flames die down as well, until the only illumination originated from the building behind me and the scattered lampposts. The soft glow gently lit a field of corpses, slowly turning into the ash of the undead. One good thing about killing blooders; there was very little clean up involved.
The next song started to play. My shoulders fell in exhaustion. I turned to Cerberus and held my arms out to him like a little girl. Even with me standing on the hood of the car, he was still nearly as tall as I was, and he easily picked up my five-foot-four frame. Cer set me down on the road, but held onto me long enough to make sure I could stand on my own. He gave me a concerned look, blocking my shaking body from the cheering crowd. We never let others see our weaknesses. I nodded that I was all right.
Cerberus gave me a kiss on the cheek, and backed away. “Thanks for coming, El.”
“No problem, honey.” I smirked, then looked at the blond.
“I'm Banning Dalca.” The blooder held his hand out to me.
“Nice to meet you.” I went to shake his hand, but he did that suave, old-school vamp thing and kissed my hand in a way that was so much more sensual than a human could make it.
“Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Tanager.” Banning smiled slowly at me, his eyes lingering over my face.
“Just make sure my payment goes through by tonight,” I said abruptly as I pulled away.
Banning's eyes widened, and he looked as if he was going to say something more. But I was too tired to deal with him. I needed to get out of there before I passed out.
“I gotta run.” I looked back at Cerberus. “I'll wait for you at the place, babe.” I spoke vaguely on purpose. The last thing I needed was for an entire gura to know where I was crashing for the night.
“Of course,” Cer said with a smirk, as if we were an item.
I smiled back; it was our routine when some client flirted with me. Cer acted like I was his, and the guy usually backed off. This guy didn't buy it, nor did he back off. As I slid into the front seat, and turned down the music, Banning Dalca followed me. He leaned in, his eyes fading to mint under the car's interior light, and gave me a very unsettling look.
“Please don't leave, Ms. Tanager,” he whispered. “I'd dearly like to speak with you.”
This seemed way past some mere flirtation. It was weird, and it sent chills racing down my spine. The guy was hot, but I didn't sleep with clients, and I especially didn't sleep with blooders. Blooders were bad news.
“Maybe another time.” I tried to reach past him for the door handle, but he didn't budge.
“Please,” he said again.
“Get away from the car, Mr. Dalca,” I said in a dangerous tone.
“Ban,” Cerberus growled. “What the fuck, man?”
“Five minutes of your time.” Banning tried once more.
“No,” I snapped. “Now are you going to back away or do I have to make you?”
“All right, Ms. Tanager,” he sighed, but produced a business card, and stuffed it into my hand. “Please call me after you've rested. I promise you, I have the most honorable of intentions.”
“Uh-huh.” I slid the card into my bra. “Thanks; I got it.”
Banning sighed again, then eased away, shutting the door for me. I gunned the engine and yanked the car about, but I couldn't help looking back at Banning as I drove off. He stared after me like I was breaking his little, undead heart. But the strangeness didn't stop there.
Just as I hit the border of golf course turning into forest, I saw a movement in the shadows. A flash of skin. I was instantly alert, despite my exhaustion, and angled the car enough to shine the headlights into the area. There he was, a gods-damned fairy. One of the fucking Shining Ones was standing in the trees of Lawrence, Kansas, watching me like some otherworldly peeping tom. Instead of hiding when my lights hit him, he held up a hand in greeting.
I nearly drove off the road.
I didn't though. I veered back onto the asphalt and kept going. If a fairy waves at you from the forest, you don't stop for him. Heading over for a little chat is a great way to get yourself abducted. The Fey were generally considered to be the perverts of the paranormal world. They'd fuck anything, anywhere, anytime. A fairy's interest wasn't flattering; it simply meant you had a heartbeat and were within reach.
Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. The lesser fey–pixies, leprechauns, trolls, goblins, those sorts–would mount you in a heartbeat if you let them. Most would try even if you didn't let them. However, the elite sidhe, those who were known as the Shining Ones, were a bit more discriminating in their choices of bed partner. That didn't make them any less terrifying. In fact, the Shining Ones had all sorts of seductive spells on their side. They might not technically be rapists, but with that kind of magic, the technicalities blurred. And once they got you, they tended to keep you until you were completely used up. I've heard stories of all manner of debaucheries going on in Tír na nÓg. So it didn't really matter, lesser or greater, fairies were freaks.
It was that whole hedonism thing. No one did it
better than the Shining Ones. They lived every moment of their immortality to the fullest, believing that they shouldn't do anything they didn't want to, and conversely, they should do everything, and everyone, that they did want to do. They ate the best food, drank the finest wine, and wore the most luxurious clothes. They loved to mix it up too. They didn't care who created an item; if it was the best, they wanted it. Several of them lived this side of the Veil for that very reason, the luxury.
The Veil is what we call the border between worlds. Planes of Existence. Realms. Again, take your pick. These places were laid on top of each other, separated by an invisible sheet of magic. If you were sensitive enough, you could feel the magic, and in some places the Veil was thick enough that even people who weren't so sensitive could feel it. But to cross it, you had to either be magically powerful or know someone powerful enough to take you through. Which meant that the fairy dude standing in the forest, waving at me like it was just another casual night in Kansas, was powerful. And very pale.
I have good eyesight, okay? I caught a lot in that glimpse of flashing headlights. Though I didn't really need my advanced perception. The guy was really white. His hair was white. His skin was white. I couldn't see the color of his eyes, besides them being pale, so maybe they were white too. His delicate features and slim figure nearly hid the fact that he was a guy, but that he was definitely masculine.
Not that his looks mattered. What mattered was what he was doing in those woods. Had he been watching me? Listening to me sing? Or had he been there for Banning? Maybe he'd been the blooders's backup, something more subtle to go in afterward on the off chance that the army of blooders didn't succeed. I almost turned around, but I knew I was too exhausted to be of any help. So I kept driving, and left the Shining One to Cerberus. If the dog-god couldn't handle one fairy, he might as well give up protecting people for good.
About the Author
Amy Sumida is the Internationally Acclaimed author of the Award-Winning Godhunter Series, the fantasy paranormal Twilight Court Series, the Beyond the Godhunter Series, the music-oriented paranormal Spellsinger Series, and several short stories. Her books have been translated into several languages, have made it to the top seller's list on Amazon numerous times, and the first book in her Spellsinger Series won a publishing contract with Kindle Press.
She was born and raised in Hawaii and brings her unique island perspective to all of her books. She doesn't believe in using pen names, saving the fiction for her stories. She's known for her kick-ass heroines who always have a witty comeback ready, and her strong, supporting male characters who manage to be sensitive and alpha all at once.
All she's ever wanted to do since she was a little girl, was to write novels. To be able to do so for a living is a blessing which she wakes up thankful for every day. Beyond her books, she enjoys collecting toys, to keep herself young, and cats, to keep herself loved.
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