by Lela Grayce
“I need a bucket of water, wet blankets, ice, and rock salt if you have it. Regular salt will do, too,” I barked the orders, tending back to insert man’s name here, not waiting to see if they would be carried out.
I started unbuttoning his dress shirt, needing to get to his skin. Brutus saw me struggling, waved me away, then grabbed the shirt material out of my hand and tore it from his body. Of course, shifters got all the strength, it wasn’t fair.
Wet blankets were spread over the man’s body. I dumped ice on top of the blankets then tossed rock salt over the ice. Shivers wracked his body, but I had no idea if it was from the cold or the poison.
“Alright, I have to burn the poison out of him.” I motioned others to back away. “You have to keep him cold because if he gets too hot… it’ll be bad. Once the color has left his hands and his lips, I need someone to toss the bucket of water on me.”
Brutus looked puzzled by my instructions, but he didn’t waste time asking questions.
I lifted the man’s head a bit to get at his wound, I needed fresh blood for this to work. Flesh and something squishy met my fingers and I tried not to think that it might be brain matter. My stomach couldn’t take it.
Once my hands were coated with bright red blood, I withdrew them and placed them in front of me, like I was holding a ball. I closed my eyes and reached for the heat within me. The hot place that I never touched because it was so easy to draw and ridiculously hard to get it back into its box I contained it. I called it gently and it surged forward ready to burn.
I directed the heat to my bloody hands. Heat surfaced and I gritted my teeth against how good it felt. I had to keep my head in the moment or I’d let it consume me. The red on my hands boiled and steamed, the smell strong enough to imprint itself on my memory. I pushed more heat into my palms, ignoring everything that went on around me. The blood dried, then with another draw of heat, began to flake and lift from my hands into an ashy substance.
I held the warmth waiting until my hands were clean then tried to call the heat back. It fought me furious that I would cage something so wild and devastating. It was part of me, something I kept hidden deep inside myself, so deep I could barely feel the flicker of flame.
Cold water was dumped over my head and with a gasp I opened my eyes. The heat instantly withdrew back into my body and I slammed the mental door shut. I drew in a deep breath as the chill seeped into my bones and began violently shivering. Wiping water from my eyes I looked around praying that I hadn’t lost control, hadn’t burned everything around me. Everything was right where it had been.
The man on the floor was covered in ash from the wet blankets that had ignited. I could see the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest. I slumped, glad that I could help and hadn’t harmed anyone. This time.
My body continued to relax. Brutus lunged and caught me before my head hit the floor. Warm blankets were wrapped around me as I snuggled into the safe heat and mumbled “take me home.”
Kreed
My body automatically sat up before I could get my eyes open. When they did, I saw the white walls of my prison, camouflaged as clean white and kingly gold. A spit in our people’s faces, or rather a reminder of our place in this world.
Shaking my head, I banished the bitterness and hatred that was never far from
my mind and instead met the kind eyes of Brutus, my friend whom I hated more often than not.
“What happened?” I rasped, before accepting the glass of water that Brutus handed to me.
“What's the last thing you remember?” he asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. I wasn’t fooled about his unaffected facade, I could smell his distaste, annoyance, and his worry, which was pointless.
I sipped the cool water buying time so I could rack my mind for the memories that I needed. Briggs, the Pendragon of this territory, formerly known as Chicago, had sent me on a mission to kill the self-appointed witch king in a neighboring territory. Briggs loved sending his personal Zavarian assassin to do his dirty work.
“Heard the witch king from Draco’s territory wound up dead,” Brutus prompted, and I felt my lips twitch. The bear could be incredibly useful and equally frustrating.
“Briggs struck a deal with Draco,” I replied, knowing that at least the specifics weren’t important for me to know. “I kill his problem and Briggs gets something out of it. Always does.”
It was coming back to me now, I remember leaving Brigg’s territory and his system of spies smuggled me into Draco’s territory. A simple task. Kill the witch leader and cripple the rising rebellion. My lip curled at the Pendragon’s name. The humans adopted the mythology name for dragons. Almost as much as it disgusted me that they called themselves Pendragons from another human story meaning ‘chief of dragons’. A joke one might think, except for the king of dragons naming himself Uther.
“And the witch king?” the bear asked as it brought to my mind the man with silvery hair and sightless violet eyes.
He had been old for his race and well-respected, but he’d spoken out against the Uther and his Pendragon’s. I knew I had to take his life. Knew I had to eliminate this threat for my plan to work, for our plan to work. When the light had left his eyes and his heart had beat it’s last was when I took the only thing a dead man could offer me.
“What’s with all the questions?” I didn’t have nearly the patience I needed to deal with any inquiries.
“You stumbled in here poisoned and nearly died. I’d like to know what the fuck, Kreed?” Brutus’ anger exploded, which surprised me more than the fact that I nearly died.
“Poisoned?” I repeated dumbly. “With what?”
Now that he mentioned it, I remembered that the witch king had smelled funny, like rotting meat.
“Whomever you drank from last night was poisoned with Burnout, Kreed.” The shifter ran his hand through his brown hair which was his tell of being worried.
“I don’t think we’ve done that one,” I mused, making a note to procure some to give to Brutus.
“You were healed,” he finally revealed, and it made my blood run colder than it already was.
“What?” Leaping to my feet then throwing the empty glass against the wall. It shattered and rained on the floor. “I told you never to let him do that.”
“I didn’t. Your father is currently unconscious fighting an illness, he was nowhere near you when you waltzed in here, poisoned, and ready to die.”
A flash of strawberry, blond hair and eyes the color of grass in sunlight. I tried to recall more about her, because it was obviously female, but I couldn’t and that bothered me.
“Who healed me?” I asked grabbing the first shirt I could find that didn’t smell of the new laundry detergent and any tracking devices.
“A woman,” Brutus said. His short response was starting to wear on my nerves.
I clenched my fist and jaw repeating to myself that I shouldn’t hit my friend. In this world we didn’t hit each other when we’re annoyed. They ‘talk’ it out. I remember the roaring fights I would get into with the other princes. Fighting and rivalry were healthy for a friendship. Beat each other senseless and the source of the fight was forgotten.
“Who is she?” I asked through clenched teeth.
When Brutus and I became friends, in the beginning before the pact, I made him swear that he would never allow my father to heal me. I didn’t want my coward of a father and king anywhere near my blood.
“I don’t know who she is, not really. Your father went out a few days ago for his free time. He called me and I picked him up outside the Pendragon's estate with her in his arms, unconscious. I figured out where she lived and returned her home and nearly had my face rearranged by her Chia pet.”
“A Chia as a pet?” I asked, steering clear of everything else he said.
My father hadn’t healed anyone in years and never some random woman he met on the street. And what was he doing at the Pendragon’s estate? Probably doing whatever the
Pendragon wanted. She was probably one of Brigg’s playthings. He had many roaming his estate. They feed him their energy, but don’t know it. Dragons have a way of hypnotizing their victims to the point that they don’t know what’s happening and continue to stay there until the human has wasted away to nothing, and then gets disposed of.
“Not a pet I would choose, but he’s extremely loyal and protective of her.” Brutus shrugged like keeping Chia as pets was no big deal.
“You spoke to it, didn’t you.” The guilty grin on his face gave away the answer.
“It’s a new skill, one that many of my kind have forgotten, let alone explore,” the big bear huffed both with disgust and some other emotion I didn’t care to name.
“Did you find out why my father had her in the first place?” I wondered if it had something to do with this mysterious illness that my father was healing from.
“He healed her, your father, I mean.”
I stared at the big brute asking him with my eyes to please be joking. “But my father hasn’t healed anyone since…”
“Since Bazy,” Brutus finished. I saw the truth written on his face. “Yesterday he called me and insisted I bring her to him. He needed another drink of her blood.”
I felt my eyes widen at the fact he needed another drink. My father was a strong Zavarian, arguably the most powerful one still alive and he needed more blood. I’d never seen my father ask for another drink in all my life. Once was always enough.
Who was this girl who could convince an old Zavarian and a Varitan to heal again?
“Whoever she is I need to meet her,” I announced, taking a clean sweatshirt and tugging it on. I had to tap down the urgency and dare I say it, protectiveness.
Brutus shook his head at me, and my hand trembled with the effort it took not to seize him by the throat and throw him through the wall. My patience was thin and near to breaking as it was.
“We should leave her alone, she’s tired, and busy being healed and recovering from healing you,” he protested.
When we became friends, I made sure that he knew everything about our people. I believed it would be needed for the future. “There’s now a bond,” I hissed tapping my head then patted my chest. “She’s female and she healed me.”
The bulb of understanding lit the bear’s brown eyes. He knew what it meant when a female healed a male. He also knew that it would be a very bad idea to get between a male Zavarian and the woman who healed him. The male would likely kill anyone who got in his way.
Buzz, buzz, buzz. I slapped at the fly that was flying around my face but only hit air. I tried again and managed to slap my own cheek. With a curse, I sat up and peeled my eyes open. Zazu was snuggled against my thigh purring, but that couldn’t have been the buzzing I heard. I paused trying to pinpoint the sound. Only silence greeted me. Zazu lifted his head groggily and peered at me with an annoyed expression that only felines could pull off.
Shrugging, I scooted down under the blankets, yawned, and closed my eyes again.
Buzz, buzz, buzz. With reflexes like a cat, I slapped my hand on my nightstand as my fingers found the vibrating phone. I opened one eyelid to look at the bright screen and click on the most recent text message.
D.C.-Are you up for working tonight?
The rest of the messages were question marks. I usually answered right away but had slept right through. I rubbed my eyes and tried to think if I had anything going on tonight. I snorted into the silent room because I was so lame that I didn’t have plans since my besties were out of town.
Me-Sure. What’s up?
D.C.-Got a meeting tonight. Guy claims to be the new boss of The Unseen. Has a proposition for us. I can’t go into this blind.
No, he couldn’t, not without Syd here. I was the only one who would know for sure if he was what he claimed to be.
There were several Shifter Mutts gangs around the city. Most grouped together as any pack animal would. Like goes with like and all that.
The four gangs that were worth noticing. The Unseen were smugglers and able to procure anything from drugs to weapons. They excelled at it, given their name. Gold Skulls, a biker gang that mostly did work for hire, made up of mainly brownies and pixies with their small size they were excellent spies. The Hopeless were shifters that had been rejected by the dragons; they sought to regain their honor by working the streets and handling the unsavory side of nightlife. And lastly the Faceless who weren’t like the others. We didn’t engage in illegal activity; we helped Mutts and gave them work and a purpose.
A large percentage of Mutts came from shifters since they were horndogs. The dragons wouldn’t take them and most of society turned their noses up at them. When a shifter got with a human, the resulting child was usually a weird combination of the two. Human features with weird shifter side effects like growing fur on the full moon nights, sprouting a tail, or growling when upset. Not terrible, but Mutts needed guidance and a place to belong. The other Mutts that were from the other races like witches and Fae were hard to come by since they weren’t as free with their procreation. These races tended to mate within the race but held a small amount of tolerance for their Mutts.
Thinking about the unfairness always made my blood boil. These supernatural creatures invaded our world, then shunned the offspring of their joining. It was messed up to the infinity degree.
I worked for the Faceless because I agreed with their mission and it coincided with my own morals. No Mutt deserved to be out on the streets, so I did what I could to help and got paid handsomely for it.
My phone buzzed again and there was another question mark from D.C.
Me-What time?
D.C.-They’re meeting at Crimson Damnation at 11pm. I’ll brief you more in person.
Me-See you then.
Crimson Damnation was a club that was owned and ran by The Faceless. It was popular with the nightlife so they were able to employ many Mutts. It was usually fully staffed but a position would be found or created if need be.
I sighed not really in the mood for clubbing, but I needed this and I’d do whatever necessary to help D.C.
Stretching, I debated going back to sleep or getting some coffee and starting the day. Before I could make up my mind a knock sounded on the door.
I scowled remembering what had happened the last time I had someone knocking on my door. Rolling out of bed, I pulled on a pair of boxers that Gavin had left behind. Instead of returning them I kept them because they were damn comfy.
Zazu jumped off the bed and bounded into the living room, probably racing toward the door. I found a hair tie and pulled my hair into a messy-just-rolled-out-of-bed something on my head. I was tired and in desperate need of coffee and I didn’t give two Zazu poops what they thought of how I looked. This was my home, and I could do what I wanted.
With that pep talk giving me the spunk I needed, I strolled into the living room then toward the front door. I found Zazu crouched there. As I drew closer, I registered that Zazu was growling. He turned his head to me, one eye staying locked on the entrance while the other blazed at me. Whoever was on the other side, Zazu was not thrilled they were here.
An impatient knock sounded and Zazu let out a hissing growl that made the hairs on my arm stand on end. I approached the panel in the hallway to reassure myself that the security system was engaged. It was. I clicked to pull up the camera for the front entryway and saw a hulking figure filling the camera's view. It looked like Brutus, but he had been here before and Zazu hadn’t growled then. My pet tolerated his presence almost like he did me, but something was different now and I didn’t like it.
Thinking fast, I tried to move the camera and after fiddling with it for a second, it moved but I still couldn’t make out who was here. I wracked my brain on what I should do when my gaze wondered to the small wall beside the door.
The living room extended about three feet into the hallway which made the front entrance sunken into the penthouse like a hotel room. The small space of wall was un
adorned, which annoyed Lyndee and I to no end, but right now, I was thankful we had this option installed. Syd would never let me forget it if I applauded the genius idea.
There was a small panel on the seam of the wall that slid up revealing three buttons, one on top of the other. The top one when pressed would turn the small wall into a two-way mirror letting me view out onto the steps/foyer but whoever was at the door wouldn’t see me. The middle button turned the wall into a window so we could see each other. It wasn’t difficult to hide from a security camera, but it was very different if you could see from another angle. Pesky shifters and their superior sensing.
The bottom button was not to be used unless absolutely necessary. Syd made sure that Lyndee and I understood never to push the button unless we were in dire straits. Working for a mafia gang was dangerous so every precaution was taken to keep the penthouse safe.
I pushed the first knob and saw that it was indeed Brutus knocking on my door. Why was he here again? And why was Zazu hissing at him? Ruvaen said that he wouldn’t need more blood from me. Did he forget something last time he was here? Or was he here to beg for more of my passable cooking skills?
Pressing the middle switch, I watched as the big brute noticed the wall change to glass so he could see me standing there in all my just-woke-up-glory.
“Have you graduated to the next level of stalking?” I asked crossing my arms over my chest and giving him my best ‘I ain’t stupid’ face.
“Whoa,” he murmured, reaching out and touching the wall which, surprisingly, felt like a wall. Who knew?
“You're basically touching my boob, dude.” His hand pressed on the wall right where my left boob would be if I was plastered against it. “State your business, or I’ll sick Zazu on you.”